The Legends of Eroris II: Interregnum |IC|

[Everhall]

The Legends of Eroris II Interregnum Lore Thread OOC Thread Archive Co-OPs- Albertae, The Tophat Empire Edenyur Craceran The Sun Tower Yherion, Eldrion The Kingdom of Yherion The doors to the throne room of the Sun Tower burst open in the flames of Edenyur's magic revealing the elegant throne room decorated with paintings of long lost Kings. Edenyur was flanked by twenty of his Crownsguard, elite soldiers sword to defend his family. They encountered the few dozen enemy soldiers trying to defend their false King, but Edenyur and his guard dealt with them quickly. They, however, weren't the real target, it was the elf currently sitting in the throne that belonged to Edenyur. "King Uymel, we meet again!" Edenyur began as he and his guard approached the elderly King, "I've come to reclaim my rightful seat old man, you are in no position to stop me." The old King merely laughed at Edenyur's claim, "You are no Craceran, Edenyur. You are just like the rest of those pretentious annoyances claiming to be something they're not. The Cracerans are dead! How could you possible be one?" One of the Crownsguard stepped forward to defend their King, "King Edenyur is the chosen of Kuruth to end this Interregnum! Have you not heard the prophecy? He who bears the blood of the ancient Kings of Eldrion shall be unite the lands of Eroris! Not shut your trap before I shut it for you!" "Calm Torrhen. I'll handle this," Edenyur said as he unsheathed his sword, "I challenge you Uymel for your crown. Whoever lives becomes King." "I would have though you would have your little dog, Aracio, leading this incursion. I thought you didn't have the balls to fight... Fine, very well. I shall accept your challenge." The King got from his throne and drew his sword. He knew he was going to lose but he would give it his all. Edenyur and Uymel circled each other for just a moment before Edenyur went into a frenzied attack against his much older opponent. He managed to knock Uymel to the ground and with one single blow decapitated him. Edenyur wished that the conflict between himself and Uymel would not turn to this outcome, but he knew he had to sacrifice to get what he wanted. He grabbed Uymel's severed head and walked out of the Palace to greet his army that had just taken back his city. He raised the head up high to mighty cheer from his forces. They had finally done it. The House of Craceran was restored.

[Dernland]

The Angamartan Vale

Dawn streamed through the thin forest canopy, highlighting the gnarled roots and monolithic boulders that smothered the ground. The vast trunks of ancient trees rose into the air, their rough, wizened bark telling the tale of years to any with the ears to listen. Dense hedges concealed sudden cliffs and pitfalls. The poisonous thorns of the Môreng vines could stop even a Mayaar's heart in hours, and such plants littered the wood, clinging to brush and tree alike. This land was dangerous to all who did not know it well, but I knew it better than most.
I crept through the shadows, effortlessly sliding around shafts of morning light. My grey cloak flowed behind me as if on a gentle breeze, though the air was thick and still. A long silver arrow lay knocked upon my bow, eager to fly towards a hitherto unknown target. I had been tracking a beast since early that night with the help of my fellow rangers. I knew not what kind of creature it was, only that it was large, fast, and capable of slaughtering an entire caravan of armed guards single-handedly. I knew it was close, judging by the stillness of the air and the distinct lack of woodland noises.

It was then that I suddenly came upon a dell and stopped just short of the edge to peer over. There was a great stag in the center whose silky brown fur was ripped and torn, stained with dark red blood. Standing victoriously over the magnificent animal was a massive beast, larger than a horse, and wreathed in shadow. I bounded to my feet in one fluid motion, drawing my bow back in an instant. The shadow turned its head at the sound, piercing my soul with eyes of fire. I loosed my arrow, sending the silver shaft darting towards the creature, who merely growled in annoyance at the glimmering thorn in its side.

I set aside my bow and drew my spear and shield, leaping over the lip of the dell to face the creature of shadow. Other grey cloaked figures materialized out of the shadows, bearing shields and spears of their own. We quickly formed a rough circle around the creature, which I could see much more clearly now. I had mistook it, at first, for a dire-wolf (or some distant cousin), but this was no wolf that I had ever seen. The beast was as large as a bear and easily as vicious. Its skin was black and leathery, stretched over masses of thick muscle. The creature bared fangs like steel daggers, and dug barbed claws into the bloody dirt at its feet. The beast seemed to draw in all the light around it, crushing it into deep shadow. The a cloud seemed to fall upon the dell, blocking out the bright morning sun and plunging the wood into blackness. The only source of light seemed to be the furnaces that burned in the skull of our quarry.

I reached out with my mind, forming an image of what I wanted and forcing that illusion upon the world. The circle of shields burst into flame, each one blazing with a brilliant blue inferno. There was no heat, no smoke, only an illusion of fire.

"Ayiar!" I shouted as I lunged forward with my spear. The beast responded in kind, lashing out with a devastating paw. My spear missed its mark, as I had to twist and catch the blow upon my shield. As I lunged, so did another of my comrades. His spear, however, struck true and buried the steel head into the creature's shadowed flank. It laughed a deep, guttural chortle and lashed its spiked tail. The Ranger fell backwards, his robe torn but otherwise unharmed. The Rangers and I, wreathed in flame, continued our assault. The beast showed no signs of weakening, despite the blood that gushed from dozens of wounds in is side and chest. It roared and lashed out with the force of a blacksmiths hammer, intent upon driving the beleaguered hunters back, inch by inch. Then, after many minutes of hard fighting, a spear managed to pierce the hound's rear-left hamstring, forcing the mighty beast to its knees. More Rangers drove their blades into the creature, causing it to crumple defeatedly at our feet. I strode to the head of the fiend, casting aside my spear and drawing my sword Úrluin from my side. The once proud and defiant beast now cowered and whimpered, trying in vain to appeal to my mercy. I had none to spare. I set the point of my sword at the base of the creature's skull and drove it down, silencing the pitiful brute in one final stroke.

I pulled my blade away, observing the carcass as I did so. Thick, black blood oozed from the cadaver's wounds and dripped from the Ranger's weapons. "Is everyone alright?" I asked to the dozen or so Rangers that had gathered around the corpse. Most nodded, massaging bruised arms and shoulders, but one elf stepped forward. Melwan, a veteran ranger. His spear arm was soaked in scarlet blood, the robe tattered and destroyed. The Ranger's skin was pale and his lips were blue as if he had spend many hours out in the cold. He said nothing, whether out of pride or some other, more sinister effect. He began to tremble and sway, letting his shield fall to the trampled earth. I rushed to his side, just in time to catch the collapsing elf and lower him onto the ground. I tore away the cloth to reveal a large gash in his upper arm. The wound reeked, and seemed to have been infected for many days, and I would have chided the fellow had this injury not occurred only moments before.

Melwan mumbled behind moans of pain. "Sokva! Sokva! Kyrenen entras lonen vi, èl'enian nomentas moïl." Sokva! Sokva! Carry me to thy courts, to live in glory unending. I reached out and grasped the wounded arm, barely provoking a wince from the dying man. Channeling every ounce of magika I could, I set to work trying to mend his broken body. I tried to draw out the poison, but it dug deeper. I tried to destroy the poison with a magical antidote, but it only grew stronger. I tried blocking the poison's path, but it tore out new ways. Melwan sighed, his chest rising lower and lower with each breath. Frantically, I began to tear at the toxin, desperate to save my friend and comrade. Nevertheless, he heaved one final rasping breath, and moved no more. I recoiled in shock and anger, kicking the fallen beast in my misguided rage. It did not stir, but my foot did not thank me for my reckless catharsis.

Ignoring the pain, I turned to the others. "Lets get this thing back to the Keep, Master Inglis has his work to do." With that we turned back to the shadowed carcass and lifted it with magic, two men following behind carrying poor Melwan between them.

[Holy Lykos]

Red Rock Mesa


Mordaband Zur Krennor

The Orcs of the Mesa were rather unique. The open, yet not infertile or empty lands, lead to a more nomadic and pastoral group than the devastated Wastes of Orsinium could create. As such the Orcs of the Mesa were slightly more peaceful. But only in the sense they preferred to hunt game over going to war. Contact with the other peoples of the Mesa, the Andurans and Reachmen, had also cooled them off. The mesa had a generally mixed sort of culture due to proximity to three major provinces. While mostly poor for farming, game was plentiful enough and the mountain passes had some fertility. It was this environment that birthed a revolution that put Mordaband into power.

But he still preferred the old way of life he had, by far. So here he was with his tribe again, hunting boars in the Red Mountains. While most of his old tribe's proper warriors went off to join the Cragtooth Rangers, and had moved to set up camp below Red Rock itself, plenty still were happy to go off into the mountains with their chieftain. They hadn't any luck yet, but-

A rather obvious mimicked animal call rung out, alerting the spread hunting party that a boar had been found. About damn time, bless the divines.

Mordaband turned his horse, whispering him to edge forward through the brush. While most hunted boars by tricking them into a pit, the Mesa Orcs preferred to go after them on horseback with the same long spears. It was more glorious, and much more dangerous. Tarluin listened, and slowly went up to a gallop, weaving through the sparse trees. A war cry went out, most likely startling the boar as they started to chase him down with spear and lance.

-------------

A few hours later, and the hunting party had managed to ride down about 3 boars. More than enough for them. Mordaband himself had speared the first through the back of the head as it ran from the cacophonous noise of hollering orcs and menfolk and galloping horses. Good thing they'd brought a few carts to bring them back to the capitol. It'd take a few hours for the cart to get back, less for the hunting party. The cart was pulled by oxen, and the riders could go much faster than it.

The Arch-Prince grunted as he tossed the last onto the bed of the cart, glancing over to a rider approaching the hunting camp. A messenger from the council, most likely.

"Arch-Prince, the council has been looking for you! They need your vote to decide on a few issues for how to set up the government. Minister Bargulf has finally reached the city from his trip down the Grove, No luck in getting any allies or new vassal areas."

"Unfortunate. I'll head back to the city. We'll have a small feast, it is the anniversary of the republic is it not?"

"That it is," The messenger replied, tugging the reins of his horses to turn it back around.

"Good, I'll come back with you. Men! Be back at the Red Fort before nightfall!" The hunting party shouted a reply, before turning back to continue their hunting. Meanwhile, Mordaband and the messenger went to a gallop, the Mesa horses easily managing in the craggy, uneven grounds between the more forested mountains and the capitol city of the Mesa.

[Theyra]

The Reach
Stormdenn
Aiwin Veranius Arrianus

It was long day for Aiwin, he had gotten some work to pay the bills for the tavern that he was staying at for the time being. He was sitting in the back of the tavern in a place so he would not stand out. Though that was hard since he was that only Valyar in the tavern and the locals were wondering why he was here. So far no one had approached him and that sat well with him. Aiwin was not really one for talk after being betrayed by his half-brother and exiled from his home. Aiwin took a sip of his drink and looked at a map that he had bought with his new coin. It was lay out on the table and he looked at it with a focused look. He did not really know where to go next but he has heard of some things coming out of Red Rock. Good things and he thought about perhaps going there next but, he looked at the other locations on the map. He just needed a good place to think about what to do next and what that place is a mystery to him for the time being.

The Reach
Near Summerset
Anwyn Silvermane

Anwyn was nearing the city of Summerset and she was thinking about her new companion. He was a odd one to her and seem kinda strange. Though it was better that her companion was a fellow Lupan and not a Nord. The two had met while traveling pass the wall and he seem eager to leave. She figured that it would be best if the two traveled together and while heading south away from the Nords. He agreed and the two had been traveling together since. That was four days ago and she does not know much about him surprisingly. She knows his name, his dislike of Nords and how he likes music and not much else. Perhaps once they reach the city, he will talk more about himself or not. She walked a few steps forward and saw the city in the distance. When she saw the city, she turned to him and said to Prauv. "I see the city and we are almost there".

[Holy Lykos]

The Reach
Prauv Wildborn


"Oh that's wonderful! I could use a proper bed, definitely." Prauv responded, checking over his weapons for a moment. "Though I wonder if they allow weapons inside the city walls. I'd rather they not confiscate my stuff." The Lupans tail swished behind him, glad to be leaving the north behind. He'd neglected to tell his travelling partner a few things, mostly his less than legal undertakings. It was no way to start a friendship off by airing your dirty laundry!

The other lupan did, however, know about his 'state'. It was hard hiding such a thing from someone who shares your race. Easier among humans and elves, and easier still with the outfit he wore. Nothing was form fitting, in the slightest. Aside from it leaving plenty of extra space for weapons and loot, it was just more comfortable for someone with fur to not be smothered by their own clothes. Other races didn't seem to understand that, at times.

"Ever been south before, Anwyn? I have, way back when I was just a pup. Though Sumerset was the furthest we went, and it was only to visit a few relatives who lived down here at the time. I think they moved further south, though. Past the Grove." He tapped his chin briefly before grinning and leading the way to the city gates. "First: lets get some lunch, I'm starving."

[The National Dominion of Hungary]

County of Nymeria, Barony of Wodesfield

---

They had ridden on the forest roads for three days, even before the civil war had ravaged the County it's roads had been of patchy repair and poor maintenance. While some parts were indeed still paved with smooth stones others were no more than dirt tracks, barely passable with a cart of any size. Every so often the party passed by the ruins of a fortified tollhouse that was once supposed to collect money for the upkeep of the roads, but have long since crumbled. The trade routes had been severed by the frequent wars that raged across the Reach as it's great Lords fought for the Throne in Lenora. Those were far from the only ruins in the County of Nymeria. Many more were added in the two most recent years during the bloody war of succession. They passed the ruins of a burned down village, a handful of souls were hard at work rebuilding a few of the homes and buildings, no doubt refugees who had returned when they heard the war was over. The was indeed over, but the troubles haunting the County of Nymeria were not, oh no indeed.

At the head of the column rode a young man on a spirited brown courser. His shirt and trousers were made of the finest black silk, the black iron cuirass had never seem battle and most likely never would, his mother had insisted he wear some sort of armor on the trip, to keep the image of the knightly warrior-count he had crafted for himself during the war very much alive. He carried a fine steel longsword sheathed at his belt and his cloak was trimmed with soft black bear fur. The cost of his attire would likely have been able to feed a family of displaced Nymerian refugees for a month. The attire was supposed to make his Lordship, Count Hienrik Carstairs feel regal, lordly and like someone supposed to wear the golden coronet that rested on his head. If that was so, then it had failed. Count Hienrik Carstairs felt like a fool, like a man uprooted from his life and given another. And in a strange way, he felt powerless.

The Barony of Wodesfield was one of several regions that had been added to the domains of the Count after their Houses were extinguished during the civil war, some of them, those that could be consolidated to a larger Nymerian crownland Hienrik intended to keep, some of them at least, the others would be given out to those who had supported him during the conflict, proven to be loyal and able. Perhaps some would have to be used as balm and wounds of recent enemies needing to be reintegrated into the County. Wodesfield however, was a place that Hienrik intended to keep within his crownlands, it was a small barony both in size and population but he was quite sure it would come in very handy in the future he had planned out for the County. The forest receded and they rode out onto more open ground, in the distance was the small town of Wodeston, seat of the former Baron. As they rode past the wooden homes the people bowed in greeting to the Count, Wodesfield had come out in support of his claim during the civil war, fighting from start to finish under his banner.

There was no castle in the town, only a small manor which was now mostly empty and felt rather derelict after standing unused for several months. Beyond the farms and forest groves surrounding the town were tall, rocky hills. Someone without any learning in geography or experience with anything larger might even have called them mountains, it was in these hills that most of the barony's wealth was in form of veins, copper, tin, iron and even silver. This wealth had not been extracted by anything close to a full-scale mining operation, but that is why Hienrik was here, to take in the lay of the land, to look through the ledgers and documents of the old Baron. The sooner they could get some real carving into those hillsides, the more the wealth and prestige of Nymeria would rise. Count Hienrik dismounted from his horse as the party came to a halt in the manor's courtyard, the count stepped over to a small stone fountain in the middle, now filled with leaves and other refuse.

"Arland!" The Count called out, a man clad in steel plate armor covered in the blue surcoat of House Carstairs contrasting with a long mane of black hair. "Yes Lordship, how may I be of service?" Arland was his brother, sort of. He was the son of Lord-Consort Eadgar Glass, mother's husband who died many years ago, even before Hienrik was born.

"Have the manor put in order, let Jesper have at it for a second. And send a few messengers to the knights of Wodesfield, I want to meet them tomorrow, alongside the former steward of the late lord Baron." The Count commanded and turned his gaze to the small manor. "Yes my Lord, it shall be done." He could hear his half-brother saying before barking a few commands to the men and women of the retinue. There would be a lot of work to be done tomorrow before returning home.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

Vieronia Emberreaver
Onyx

In the not-so-far distance, the mountain rumbled. Mount Onyx spat, a river of molten rock trickling down its slopes as ever, as the skies above were once more filled with ashes. Running a hand through her soft, white hair, Vieronia groaned, pushing some of the furs off of herself and crawling up into her bed, awake. Usually, Mount Onyx's ever-present eruptions didn't wake her up, but this time they did, it seemed. Looking around, she let out a content sigh. She had slept well. That was good. She appreciated her sleep quite a lot. Stretching her arms, Vieronia let out a yawn, before climbing out of her bed, brushing a lock of hair out of the way as she pulled on a set of simple, plain white robes. Humming some sort of song to herself, one she'd heard in a tavern a while back, she scratched behind one of her ears before reaching out for a bottle of perfume. Spraying herself with more than enough of the stuff, the Vvalyaar looked into the mirror, and gave a satisfied nod to herself.

Continuing to hum a song to herself, Vieronia walked past a small shrine of the Phoenix God, neatly tucked away in a corner, as she made her way to breakfast, eventually arriving in a room with a large, stone table at its center, with breakfast already there, waiting for her - not something she was going to be complaining about any time soon. Starting on her breakfast, she stared outside one of the windows, watching Onyx's streets, even here filled with people as ever. It was what one could expect of the capital, of course. More than enough people around to keep her with work to do for more than a lifetime, at least, so that was good. Looking at her immediate surroundings, the woman realized that more work really wasn't necessary in any way, judging by her rather luxurious surroundings - including her very own servants to make her breakfast for her. Emberreaver looked down at her plate, blinking her eyes in realization. I should get someone to make sure my food isn't poisoned. Something to look into soon enough, definitely.

As she sat there, munching on her breakfast, contemplating life, poisoned food, and various other things, Vieronia suddenly found herself in the company of one of her servants, an older, but tidy and neat man. He carefully lay down several letters on the table, so careful as if he wished to not make a sound, dare he disturb his mistress and ire her. The self-titled problem solver looked up at the man. She gave him a nod, a smile plying her lips. "Thank you." The servant rapidly wandering off, the Vvalyaar picked up the letters that had apparently been sent in her direction. Starting to read through them, still working on her breakfast, she let out a sigh, and took a sip from her glass of water. Invitations to a party or two held in the area by her fellow rich people - how dull. A beggar's note. That one could go into the fire straight away. If this person had enough money to buy paper, a quill, ink, and could actually write, he or she wasn't a beggar and should instead just use the skills they obviously possessed, like writing, to better their own position. She pondered that for a moment. Perhaps they were, by trying to cheat some wealthy people out of their money. Most clever. Perhaps she should send this mysterious beggar some money after all, out of appreciation of their clever ploy.

Letting out a sigh, she put the stack of letters away, leaving only last one letter for her to read. Grabbing a knife, she cut the wax seal on it open, and started to read, perhaps a little bored. Hopefully this one last letter would be more promising, perhaps offering a proper job..?

[Albertae]

The School of Kuruth, Elkurion
Abus Exicum and Aracia Baxter

Today was a quiet day, perhaps too quiet, but nonetheless it was a momentous day for two lovers and a whole group of other graduates. That's right, today was graduation day. Abus had finished his apprenticeship in the manipulation and illusion arts of magic. Aracia had finished her apprenticeship in the destruction arts of magic. They were both overjoyed, but very mature about their achievements. Soon enough, letters would be sent home to their parents and family back home telling of their success. They were now both journeymen and they had been planning this for months. They had no mentor to train and practice under for five years, but they could still become masters of their respective arts of magic within seven years time without a mentor. They decided to go to the Arch-Mage's office and thank him for six years of learning-filled schooling.

As they walked there they would hold hands and talk on the way there. Abus would start off with, "You know Ara, I'm proud of both of us. What we have accomplished is a great feat. I hope we can find a bright future together, full of adventure and fun, and then maybe settle down somewhere in the future and just relax and enjoy our lives for all we did in it." He would look to her and smile lovingly as he walked forward, guided by Aracia.

She would look forward so at least one of them would be able to guide them on the path, while she would talk to him, "Oh Abus, your so charming you know that? It's hard to not look your way, but if I didn't we would both bump into something along our path and get knocked on our behinds, as neither of us would be looking forward." She would sigh, but in a good way and then say, "I want a good life to, full of adventure, and with you all the way. I just hope that we can find something to start with."

Finally they would reach the Arch-Mage's office and they would knock before entering. Inside they would find General Aracio, King Edenyur's right hand man. They greet him, "Greetings General Aracio, how are you faring?"

[Asterdan]

Thieves Guild
The Reach

"Are we all in accordance with this plan?" asked Olfrid Light-Hand, looking to those who surrounded the table with him.

They were of all races and nations, and they were all honor-bound to Olfrid and the Guild. These were the best of the best of the Reach's thieves, able to pull almost any heist so long as they worked together. This one, however, was going to be one of the most difficult heists of their career, as well as one of the most rewarding. They were going after the same artifact that the previous Guild Master of the Reach had been caught attempting to steal. Guards would be doubled, but Olfrid had already used his connections to take care of that. He had arranged both their entrance into the city and their escape. This was going to be the heist of the century.

Their target was an ancient artifact located in the city of Lenora. This artifact was the Forsworn Crown, was an ancient helm which adorned the heads of many of the ancient High Kings of the Reach. Not all wore it, but it had significant cultural value and was priceless to many. Of course, Olfrid had discovered that it did have a price, and was ready to sell it off. If he was going to be honest, however, he would've been more than happy to take up this heist without the promise of gold, simply for the glory alone! This was a heist that had been attempted several times throughout the history of the Thieves Guild of the Reach, and none of these attempts had been successful.

Of course, none of these previous would-be thieves had made the connections within the Reach that Olfrid had. This was part of the reason they had named him Guild Master of the Reach. He was the first of their organization to forge connections with virtually all of the powerful families within the Reach, which allowed greater access and influence on the province. No one officially had any ties to the Thieves Guild, and the group was considered an illegal group of scoundrels and thugs. Most people knew different, however. Olfrid had turned the Reach Thieves Guild of old into a sort of 'Robin Hood' group, using their wealth and influence to help people.

Olfrid had seen in his homeland that helping those in need would make it harder for guards to find them, as the people would be less likely to talk and rat them out. This same philosophy extended to the powerful families of the Reach, and it had helped the Guild to grow more powerful than ever before.

"In two days, when the moon is new, we strike. The Forsworn Crown will be ours!" he said smiling, laughing as he was met with cheers and pats on the back.

[Theyra]

The Reach
Prauv Wildborn


"Oh that's wonderful! I could use a proper bed, definitely." Prauv responded, checking over his weapons for a moment. "Though I wonder if they allow weapons inside the city walls. I'd rather they not confiscate my stuff." The Lupans tail swished behind him, glad to be leaving the north behind. He'd neglected to tell his travelling partner a few things, mostly his less than legal undertakings. It was no way to start a friendship off by airing your dirty laundry!

The other lupan did, however, know about his 'state'. It was hard hiding such a thing from someone who shares your race. Easier among humans and elves, and easier still with the outfit he wore. Nothing was form fitting, in the slightest. Aside from it leaving plenty of extra space for weapons and loot, it was just more comfortable for someone with fur to not be smothered by their own clothes. Other races didn't seem to understand that, at times.

"Ever been south before, Anwyn? I have, way back when I was just a pup. Though Sumerset was the furthest we went, and it was only to visit a few relatives who lived down here at the time. I think they moved further south, though. Past the Grove." He tapped his chin briefly before grinning and leading the way to the city gates. "First: lets get some lunch, I'm starving."

"No I have not been south of the wall really, this is the farthest south I have been". "My tribe and I stayed somewhat near to the city of Highmarch and I hunted in the woods there". "I guess I was right to have ask you to come with me south since I know nothing of the south". "Hopefully they will allow us to keep our weapons and armor". She said while following him to the city gates. "So do you have any idea of where to go south after here? "I have heard of a few places from traders before I left, like a place called Red Rock". "But that place is far away I think and I guess we can plan on where to go once we get something to eat".

Anwyn continued to follow Prauv to the city and they were getting closer. She had questions about Prauv but she would wait till she knows he better. It was about to why he chose to be like this. And maybe to why he was so eager to leave the north in the first place. But all of her questions would wait and they would eat for now. Maybe even find a place to live without Nords and where she can live in peace.

[Holy Lykos]

The Reach
Prauv Wildborn

"I don't know much either, but being the kid of an Elder you tend to pick up a bit of information about the world." Prauv responded, yawning a bit as the city gates slowly grew as they approached the walls. The architecture was definitively different from what they'd seen in the north, the warmer climate meant houses not built just to withstand the cold for one. The reddish Lupan was almost marveling as the pair finally reached the main gates, where a pair of guards were checking things people were bringing into the city. Contraband mostly. Prauv swallowed nervously and tossed... something off into the bushes.

"This city is massive! They must have good food here!" He suddenly shouted, only making a slight scene. A few Reachmen glowered over to the fur-covered pair, but Prauv ignored them. " C'mon, lets get in line, We should be fine unless they decide to pull us aside. Guards look rather tired and lazy." He whispered the last bit, suddenly taking a look of innocent naivety as the last wagon before them was allowed passed. The rather bored looking city guardsman glanced over the two Lupans before clearing his throat.

"Lets make this quick... Reason for visiting Sumerset?" Soldier #1 asked, while the other one idly scratched his armor clad chest.

"Traveling south to see the Reach!" The soldier seemed to be satisfied with Prauv's answer, before looking over to Anwyn. "And you, wolf?"

[Theyra]

The Reach
Prauv Wildborn

"I don't know much either, but being the kid of an Elder you tend to pick up a bit of information about the world." Prauv responded, yawning a bit as the city gates slowly grew as they approached the walls. The architecture was definitively different from what they'd seen in the north, the warmer climate meant houses not built just to withstand the cold for one. The reddish Lupan was almost marveling as the pair finally reached the main gates, where a pair of guards were checking things people were bringing into the city. Contraband mostly. Prauv swallowed nervously and tossed... something off into the bushes.

"This city is massive! They must have good food here!" He suddenly shouted, only making a slight scene. A few Reachmen glowered over to the fur-covered pair, but Prauv ignored them. " C'mon, lets get in line, We should be fine unless they decide to pull us aside. Guards look rather tired and lazy." He whispered the last bit, suddenly taking a look of innocent naivety as the last wagon before them was allowed passed. The rather bored looking city guardsman glanced over the two Lupans before clearing his throat.

"Lets make this quick... Reason for visiting Sumerset?" Soldier #1 asked, while the other one idly scratched his armor clad chest.

"Traveling south to see the Reach!" The soldier seemed to be satisfied with Prauv's answer, before looking over to Anwyn. "And you, wolf?"

Anywn looked irritated by being called wolf and said, "I am traveling south to see the Reach as well". Anywn thought about saying something about but, did not want to risk being not allowed in the city. Though at the back of her mind, she was curious to what Prauv tossed off into the brushes before reaching the gate". "More so to the reason why he did that". "Maybe some thing that about his past... but that would be for another time. If she would get the chance to at this rate.

[Holy Lykos]

The Reach
Prauv Wildborn
"Any Contraband goods?"

"Nope!" Prauv said cheerfully. The Lupan had done a bit of research for what might be controband in the south, mostly by a few contacts in the Reachman Thieves Guild. Not that Anwyn needed to know that. Not yet anyway. Maybe when she knew more about him and he could trust her to not turn him in. Or just don't! That was always a good option.

"Same with her." Prauv finished before the guard could ask her again. "Not really carrying anything except money and food, and that's just bread and a bit of drink." He nodded enthusiastically, still playing the part of a young and rather naive traveler. Easy to do when most tended to look down on and think the lupans were rather dumb.

The soldier stared at them both for a bit, long enough to get Prauv a bit nervous that he'd said too much. But soon the guard merely grunted and waved them past and into the city. Prauv jumped forward, almost prancing his way past the gate. "Such a weird wolf..." The second guard mumbled as they ushered Anwyn to follow the Red Lupan.

[The Land of Golden Blobfish]

Terillos Oripheil
West of Wolfhelm

Finally, he was wondering when he would get out. A harsh storm had set in for the last few days and Terillos, who was out in the middle of nowhere, had to venture right through it. Despite the tattered rags he wore as clothes, the cold didn’t get to him nearly as much as the snow did. Sure, his Nord body was built for the north but it didn’t do him much comfort with the weather. Especially when it melted on him, leaving his terrible attire in even worse, soaked condition. Terillos was positive he would freeze to death if he didn’t find shelter soon. And it wasn’t like his magic could do anything for him, especially how little he knew. To be honest, it was practically a newfound power as he left it pretty much unused for just under the last dozen years. Being taught at a young age that magic was bad, that it made you the lowest of the low, Terillos refrained from ever practicing it. Practicing the only two spells he knew, that is. An incredibly beginner spell known as “Air Strike” that he first used (and figured out naturally) and another known as “Confuse” which he found in a dusty, old book he now kept as his journal. The first was simple enough, sending a small torpedo like gust of air at an enemy. It couldn’t kill them, or anything other than knock them off their feet, but Terillos was fine with that. He didn’t want to kill anybody. And the other apparently did as it was called, confusing a target momentarily. He didn’t have a chance to try it out. Either way, neither helped him in the situation the boy was stuck in now. He hugged his clothes tighter around him and continued down the dirt path.

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

Tambor the Builder
Ghan-Buri Pass
Northern Red Rock Republic

Slowly, the steep paths and deep gorges of the Orsonium mountain range began making way for the rolling foothills of Red Rock. A way that just hours before had consisted of narrow paths and rugged stone had made way for the dry grass and the very workable little roads, that made it almost feel like a stroll of relaxation. For a moment, Tambor halted, holding Remus tightly by his reigns. From the hill, he could easily oversee the vast lands of the new Republic, an institution that was but a year old that very day. Looking at the mostly-empty steppe land, it was hard to imagine humanoids having any semblance of control over any land. The land was ancient, older than the beastmen and the Dwarves. And yet, kings and princes claimed dominion. For a moment, the oddness of sucha construct struck Tambor. A thought he was rudely awoken from by his traveling companion.

“Well, four days of travel, and we have just about cleared the mountains” Vastar said, looking over his shoulder to the jagged peaks.

“I must say, I thought we’d never get out of there alive. It’s a miracle, really” the merchant said, letting himself fall in the dry grass that covered the foothills. He took a strand of grass from the ground, and put it between his lips. Tambor had met Vastar the Merchant on the secret mountain pass that led southwards from the Dwarven city of Hagrid. It was a complex network of tunnels, paths, trails and gorges, not easily navigated if one didn’t know the terrain. Tambor had only learned about it from the local Dwarves, who respected Tambor as a scientist. Vastar had tried to find a shortcut through the mountains, probably to find some profitable rout to exploit, but he had gotten lost. By the grace of Tambor, he had been saved a cold, windy death among the mountain peaks.

“Aye, four days” Tambor said, patting Remus on the back.

“That means you owe me” Tambor said, smiling. At the second day of travel, Vastar had challenged Tambor to a bet. Vastar said it would take them eight days to leave the paths. Tambor claimed four days of travel time. Vastar had taken the bet, and it appeared he had lost spectacularly. Begrudgingly, he threw a little bag of silver coins to the magistructor, who tucked it away in his traveling bag.

“How did you know, anyway?” the merchant inquired, looking up at the pale blue skies above. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, it seemed.

“Because…” Tambor said, slowly starting to walk again. Vastar jumped up and followed suit, not wanting to separate himself too much from his saviour.

“… You were taking a leak against a 7000 year old Dwarven waymarker” Tambor said, a slight hit of annoyance in his voice. “Anyway, our paths separate here. The road to Ancalem leads south from here; Red Rock is due west.”

The two men shook hands, saluted each other, and went on their merry ways. For a moment, Tambor looked after Vastar, who whistled a happy tune as he fastened his pack. Tambor smiled, mounted Remus, and began trudging towards the city of Red Rock. He too sang a tune, but one in the ancient language of the Dwarves; a song aimed at the God of Stone.

https://youtu.be/2BPILaMT50k

Riding through the desolate Redlands of Nearer Orcinium, Tambor was gripped by the barren beauty of the landscape. It was abandoned, save for a few tents and yurts of nomadic Orc tribes, all of whom greeted him with a heartily wave. These Orcs were not like their warlike kin in Farther Orcinium, Tambor knew. These beings lived peacefully of the hunt, and, while fiercely defensive of their values, rights and properties, they did little in the way of raiding. If anything, the last year under the rule of the Arch-Prince was solely to be qualified as peaceful. While, of course, commotion over the transition stirred beneath the surface, the people generally accepted that the Republic was preferable to the Despot.

Grabbing one of his many notebooks and a pencil, Tambor began to write as Remus trudged across the narrow dirt paths of the Redlands. It was more of a book of memoires, this. Nothing concerning it was of any scientific value, but Tambor hoped that it’s writing could be used by others as a method of reference, or perhaps as a book of traveling once he went home.

Day 4, afternoon, Nearer Orcinium
The cold, grey mountains of snow and moss have made way to the dirt and heat of the Redlands, Nearer Orcinium. While my past writings may have cursed the name of the winds that blew such cold air through the many gorges of the Hagrid Mountains, I know have a fond remembrance of the quieter days. After traveling in the shade for the better part of a week, the sudden burden of sunlight befalls me as increasingly heavily. I do not look forward to the noon of tomorrow, and hope to have found a watering well by then. The sun of Nearer Orcinium is said to be comparable to that of Pandora, and if that were truly so, I am wondering if I shouldn’t make the dangerous journey back to Hagrid. Alas, I have provisions neither for myself nor for my mule, and thus my journey should continue.

The land here feels strange, as both comforting and hostile. Growing up in the sands of Pandora, there is an idea of homeliness here. There is little growth of trees here, with some more hardy specimens growing along the way, and watering holes for animals come up every now and again. The rush of the River Grove has left us, and only the howling winds can be heard tearing across the land. However, the red colour of the sands and the dirt seem to make a mockery of Pandora, as if it were made as some form of satire or humour. It temps me to remember home, yet, does not come close to actually giving me Pandoran comforts. Being so close to Sentinel, in relative terms, pulls my gaze southwards sometimes, wondering why I should not take the many southwards roads that lead off from my own path. However, my job is not yet done, and I have tasks yet to complete. My road leads west, to Red Rock.

Red Rock Mesa
Two days later

After two days of travel, Tambor finally arrived at the outskirts of Red Rock. He had seen the signs of the city for miles already, consisting of Ox carts, mounted riders and townsfolk traveling to the far reaches. The first buildings began to appear, too. Simple clay huts, unlike the travel tents that Tambor had seen along the way, now stood spread across the horizon, the homes and shelters for the herders of flock that inhabited these lands. The more Tambor approached the city, the more buildings he began to see. The road became broader, sturdier, and he came across more and more traffic in both directions. Orc hunters, merchants, and travellers like himself, together with the odd company of soldiers. However, with the increase in building density came the increase in destruction. Still, after a year, many of the buildings that had suffered from the way had not been repaired. Outward guard towers still lay in ruins, their guards looking on from destroyed howdars. While the smell of burning and blood was out of the air, still the burnt ruins of many a home stood as a monument to the destructive civil war.

When Tambor reached the city itself, there was only more of such derelict views. The walls of the city, erected from red stone, stood abandoned and damaged. Some of the gaps in the wall, made by assaulting enemy soldiers, were now used as full-on gates, and were guarded like one would guard a gate. The true gate, through which Tambor entered, still had one functioning door, while the other had her hinges ripped clean off. A battering ram, Tambor thought, as he passed them. The soldiers, both Orcs, looked at him vaguely, but didn’t even care to stop him. He was no threat, that was obvious from his age and manners. What could this old man even mean inside their grand city?

Soon, Tambor found a resting place for the night. A tavern inn, just outside the inner city limits. It was cheap, most of all, but it fitted him. It was one of the few buildings that had only light scorch marks, with little outward desctruction. His bed concisted of a straw mat on the floor, as most of the beds had been taken to serve in the city’s defence, and the carpenters of the city were doing all they could to provide in the needs of the various inhabitants. Apparently, this inn didn’t have too much of a priority. Seated on the straw mat, it being his only furniture, Tambor read the letter he had prepared back in Hagrid, destined to go to the city council.

My dear sirs, ladies,

Allow me to introduce me as your humble servant. I, Tambor, am a man learned in the science of engineering and magical defence, as taught by the old Dwarven master Trens Stonewall. I am the last in a long line of magical engineers, who have helped build some of the great forts and castles of Eroris. Seeing that your city has suffered heavily because of your civil war, which saw the removal of your most despotic monarch, I have come to offer my services to you and your Arch-Prince. Helping in the restoration of your city would help greatly in my current research, and as such, I will require little payment for my services. I only ask to be given shelter, food, and a little money to use towards my research. I have already begun drawing up plans regarding the future reconstruction of Red Rock, and will be honoured to bring these to fruition. Please send your response to ‘the Hunted Boar Inn’, at the crossing of Orcroad and the Mountainway.

Your humble servant, always,
Tambor,
Magistructor in the Order of Trens

Having read the letter, and agreeing again with her contents, Tambor gave it to the innkeeper to be sent to the palace. Back in his room, Tambor took his pencil again, and a map of the city, and began drawing. Throughout the night, a candle could be seen flickering at his window, the shadow of a man at work cast upon one of the walls. A future, both for one man, and for the city.

[Everhall]

General Aracio
The Hall of the Wise Man
Elkurion, Eldrion

"...that's why we need your aid-" Aracio turned to face the students before him he glanced at the arch-mage and then looked back at the students, "Most don't recognize who I look like, not in these times. How do you know who I am?"

"These are some of my greatest students," the archmage said standing up and walked from behind his desks of magical items and gadgets, "Their names are Abus and Aracia, they've been enrolled in the school for a few years now."

[Albertae]

General Aracio
The Hall of the Wise Man
Elkurion, Eldrion

"...that's why we need your aid-" Aracio turned to face the students before him he glanced at the arch-mage and then looked back at the students, "Most don't recognize who I look like, not in these times. How do you know who I am?"

"These are some of my greatest students," the archmage said standing up and walked from behind his desks of magical items and gadgets, "Their names are Abus and Aracia, they've been enrolled in the school for a few years now."

Aracia would say to the archmage, "You are much too kind archmage. We actually came by to thank you for mentoring us for six years now at this school."

Abus would also say, "And we also came by to see if you had any connections who may have a need for our services. It seems though we have a perfect employer standing right in front of us," he would turn to look at General Aracia and continue, [i]"..if he were willing to have us of course."

Aracia would slap Abus on the arm and apologize to General Aracio, "General Aracio, he meant no disrespect to you or even to be pushy whatsoever. Oh, and to answer your question, we know your name, because of the story spreading around the city of the former King Uymel and the famous first words he said before King Edenyur Craceran killed him in a duel."

[Theyra]

The Reach
Prauv Wildborn
"Any Contraband goods?"

"Nope!" Prauv said cheerfully. The Lupan had done a bit of research for what might be controband in the south, mostly by a few contacts in the Reachman Thieves Guild. Not that Anwyn needed to know that. Not yet anyway. Maybe when she knew more about him and he could trust her to not turn him in. Or just don't! That was always a good option.

"Same with her." Prauv finished before the guard could ask her again. "Not really carrying anything except money and food, and that's just bread and a bit of drink." He nodded enthusiastically, still playing the part of a young and rather naive traveler. Easy to do when most tended to look down on and think the lupans were rather dumb.

The soldier stared at them both for a bit, long enough to get Prauv a bit nervous that he'd said too much. But soon the guard merely grunted and waved them past and into the city. Prauv jumped forward, almost prancing his way past the gate. "Such a weird wolf..." The second guard mumbled as they ushered Anwyn to follow the Red Lupan.

Anwyn followed Prauv into the city and took note of his strange behavior. How he seem with the guards was odd and maybe his contact with humans......., she tried to figure him out. Though she was irritated by being called wolf, the Nords back home liked to call her that among other things. It brought back bad memories of her time back home in the north. Anwyn tried to put those feelings behind her but it was hard. She and Prauv walked into the city and Anwyn started to look around the city. "This city does look different then the cities in the north". "Where do you think we can get something to eat?

[The Irish County of the Beare-Mor]

Azrael
Onyx, Valyaria

Azrael rode a sleek black stallion towards the city. He had acquired the stallion quite a few years back, when he began to travel Eroris. He found himself on the archipelago known as Valyaria. He leaned forward and patted the flank of the stallion and whispered to his ear, "Almost there, Shadowheart. Almost there.

He looked around at the bleak landscape, covered with ash, and the rumblinf of volcanoes seems to be a constant. Up ahead rose the giant volcano of Onyx, the city noticeable against the side of the volcano. Azrael took his cloak and held it tighter against himself, covering his face in shadow. He doesn't appreciate his identity always being known. He'd heard of a woman, a mercenary as some call her, by the name of Vieronia. He was a a tavern when he heard of her, and can't quite remember who is was who had told him, but it had piqued his interest. Enough to get him to travel to Onyx.

Azrael, and Shadowheart, approached the city. The hooves of the horse went from the dull thud of the ground to the soft clack on stones. He looked up, and around, the city as he crossed the entrance. The hubbub of the city was instantly heard, the many voices coalescing into one sound, difficult to pick out. He maneuvered the stallion to the side of the road, and dismounted. He walked around to the side of the horse, and opened one of the travel bags packed on top. He pulled out a map, not fully detailed or updated, but it should be enough to get around the city. He knew he was looking for a manor, and the map should help with that.

He took his wineskin, and took a draught before stowing the map back and mounting the stallion again. He walked forward, down the street, and looked for an inn. Moments later he spied an inn, and went towards it. He stowed the horse in one of the stables, and dismounted. He took out his coinpurse, and headed inside the inn. He went up to the innkeeper, and asked for a room for a few nights. He gave him the coin, and headed back outside.

Inhaling heavily, he headed towards the manor, eventually spying it from the street. He marched passed its gates and went to the door. He sighed, tightened his cloak, and knocked thrice upon the door.

[Holy Lykos]

The Reach
Sumerset
Prauv Wildborn

He turned around on his feet to look back at her, grinning, and suddenly back to his normal self. "An inn or tavern would be the best bet for that. The inner city, where all the richies would live, would also have plenty of places to get food." He nodded and turned around once more to look around for the places he mentioned. His ears flicked up and tail waved behind him for a moment, before both things died down.

"Come! Come!" He urged Anwyn to follow, padding forward onto the main street of the town. He seemed to have spotted someplace for them to go eat!

---

Red Rock Mesa
Red Rock
Mordaband zur Krennor

Red Rock was a city trying to recover, but it helped to have such hardy people populating it. Those used to the harshness of the Mesa and the Wastes past it, or the desert past the mountains to the south. The obviously damaged fortress was at the zenith of the city. The whole town was built on a hill flanking their tributary of the Grove, called the Rose River due to coloration. It wasn't massive, but it was sprawling. The outskirts stretched for miles, made up of those Orcs, Adurans, and Reachmen who preferred city life to nomadic pastorialism. Along the river was one of the few areas in the region proper farming could be conducted, though it was never excessively fruitful. The areas, even inside the city walls, near the river was taken up by farmland. It certainly helped them hold out in the case of a siege to have farms in the city walls. The arable strip went down the whole of the Rose until it met with the Grove and spilled into the large estate farms of the south Riverlands.

Tambor's arrival the previous day had gone unnoticed, until a letter turned up at the Red Keep. The Post Minister, of course, was the first to read it. He passed it around to the other ministers in a quick session of the council. It wasn't a very hard decision, to agree to hire the magistructor. They severely needed help fixing up the castle, and many of the smaller forts in the mountain passes had fallen into disrepair. Tambor likely would have noticed that as he was entering the region.

The Arch-Prince was asked to go collect him, to give a good first impression to the Anduran. Mordaband agreed heartily, ditching his armor and donning more civilian attire. Fine robes and trousers, but simplistic enough to not look out of place among the nobles of the city. The only thing that really set him apart would be the circlet set on his brow. The old crown of Red Rock had been destroyed symbolically at the close of the war. The mark of the Arch-Prince being a simple silver band with a ruby set in the front, something understated and small to designate his place as first among equals.

He set off on foot, striding over the drawbridge of the castle. A simple aqueduct system from the river as it ambled past the city pulled up water to the hill to make a moat around the castle itself, which rejoined the river on the castle's flank as two waterfalls on the cliff-side of the hill the castle was perched on. An old system that didn't work quite as well as it used to, the moat was only half as high as it should be! Yet another thing Tambor might have to repair and refresh.

But the slightly fire scorched red brick keep was mostly intact, with only the main gate broken and drawbridge stuck down. A few more superficial battle scars might need fixing too, lest they be exploited in the event of another siege.

The Orc hadn't noticed as many of these things as he should have until now, The news of Tambor's arrival making him contemplate what could be improved. He was by far no engineer, he just knew weaknesses that could be exploited.

------------

Only a half hour later Mordaband arrived at the inn Tambor was staying at. The Orc had taken so long because he had both been walking slow and getting distracted with conversing with the largely human, Anduran and Reachman, residents of the upper city. The city outskirts were more Orcish, but it was getting more mixed without the castes put in place by the old Despotate. It had been one of the first acts to abolish the rigid castes that put orcs on the bottom, but that was largely due to the fact the population of the Republic was over half Orcish, and with the voting systems they were planning on putting it place it was easier to make everyone count the same than balance it for castes.

Mordaband ducked through the door to the Inn, giving a wave to the group of Orcs that likely had been there all night celebrating the anniversary of the Republic.

"Innkeep, Can you go fetch Tambor the Builder? I believe he was staying here last night and he has business at the Red Keep." The Orcs gravelly and deep voice asked, as he sat himself down at the tavern bar to wait.

The Anduran nodded in response and headed up the stairs to knock on the new arrivals door, shouting in: "Hey, The prince is here to see you!"

[Togeria]

Ava

The Reach

---

She had been riding through the reach for the better part of almost six months traversing the landscape of the southern reach. It was nice change of scenery especially from the northern regions of Elderion. At least here she met folks that looked like her and it seemed that she was far away from the whispers of the Mayaar that her reputation didn't precede her. It's not like she stayed in cities long too however and her time in the south was short, only spending enough time to gather enough plants and goods to sell. Being in the southern provinces was a nice experience, trade, barter, and peace within the serene landscape.

If not for the constant reminder that this was the reach she would've thought it was the wondrous plains of Geia. Her time in the south however was only temporary as in her travels she heard word of republic not so far away from The Reach and on the outskirts of Orsinium. With that she made haste from the south and towards the north as her horse galloped and trotted entire days and weeks to the location. Unfortunately it seemed if not under the boot of bandits, the sword of her own kin, it would be nature itself that would put opposition and barrier on every little step of her journey.

Rains stopped her in her tracks and she would have to help pull her horse, Hannibal through the mud as they made their way to Red Rock. But even Ava in all of her anger and stubbornness had her limits. Days in the wilderness without many supplies and seemingly fighting a one way and one sided war with Geia herself had broken her, she spotted an inn on her path and took no qualms in heading in. Tying her horse to the post before taking her ruck sack. Tying her hair back into a loose ponytail she entered the inn before instinctively making a move towards the back near the Valyaar before taking a seat.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

Vieronia Emberreaver
Onyx

Garbage, that was what that last letter had been. Yet another party invitation, this one even less promising than the last one. It was borderline offensive at this point, it was! Letting out a somewhat frustrated huff, Vieronia stood up, her breakfast finished. She grabbed a bottle of wine, pouring some into her glass, pressing it against her lips and downing it in one go. Humpfing to herself, she placed the glass back down on the table and walked off to go get her bath – it'd be something good this day, at least.

Sighing contently, the Vvalyaar let her head hang back, enjoying the warmth of her bath. She could stay like this all day. Perhaps that would be exactly what she'd do to- “Ma'am,” Vieronia’s thoughts were rudely interrupted, a servant barging in, “there’s someone at the door for you. Nobody we recognize.” The mistress of the house sighed, climbing out of the bath, quickly drying herself and pulling her robes back on, muttering a few curses to herself as she did. “Naear?” She looked at the servant, motioning for her to come closer, “A stranger, you say? My belt, please. And the daggers.” The servant nodded, quickly picking up Vieronia’s belt, two daggers hanging from it as she pulled it around her waist. Nodding at her servant, the Vvalyaar started moving for the door.

Arriving at the door, she tilted her head at the figure outside, his passage inside blocked by another servant. She motioned for him to move aside, taking a few steps closer. She looked behind her for a moment, Naearcia faithfully brushing her hair for her, before returning her gaze to the mysterious arrival, eyeing him up and down. “And you might be..?”

[Everhall]

General Aracio
The School of Kuruth
Elkurion, Eldrion

The archmage scratched his balding head with nervousness as be looked back at Aracio and then to the student, "Yes that is suitable, but I though you may enjoy a less deadly employer. Aracio here, he has to carry out certain things. Certain things that you won't like."

"That is true you two. My line of work isn't exactly a walk in the park. Are you sure you have what it takes to be apart of my army? Are you sure you have loyalty to your General and his King? If you answer any of those questions with a no I can't have use for you. This is war here, all over Eroris. I need the best of the best to defend our homeland.

---

Emperor Aurandur
Unknown Location

The area was dark save for a single light that stood in the middle. Nothing could be seen out of the dark space, as if wool had been pulled over one's eyes. Next to the light stood and elf, he seemed middle aged for a Mayaar. Of course, nobody but he and the other presence the space knew what was occurring inside it. If they had know, perhaps the events about to transpire would not have occurred.

"Master," the hooded figure said, "I've done all that you have requested. The only thing that stands in-between you and the barrier is the Order of Sokva. Once they are destroyed by your armies your plan should be complete."

At first no voice responded, but soon a voice with the rumbling of a volcano began to ring in the elf's head,

Your hard work shall soon be awarded Aurandur. Soon the barrier Kuruth and his minions have placed shall be destroyed, and the forces and Dread shall run free..."

[Theyra]

The Reach
Sumerset
Prauv Wildborn

He turned around on his feet to look back at her, grinning, and suddenly back to his normal self. "An inn or tavern would be the best bet for that. The inner city, where all the richies would live, would also have plenty of places to get food." He nodded and turned around once more to look around for the places he mentioned. His ears flicked up and tail waved behind him for a moment, before both things died down.

"Come! Come!" He urged Anwyn to follow, padding forward onto the main street of the town. He seemed to have spotted someplace for them to go eat!

Prauv seemed to be better, Anwyn thought to herself. She had never heard of someone being called a richie before and the term made her wonder who Prauv really is. Though she would have to wait for that after they get something to eat. She walked with him though the street and would take in the sights. It was nice for a change to not being called out for being a Lupan. But, she would be on guard if that were to happen in this city since she knew little of the Reachmen. "I hope that this place that you found has good food since I am starting to get hungry".

Ava

The Reach

---

She had been riding through the reach for the better part of almost six months traversing the landscape of the southern reach. It was nice change of scenery especially from the northern regions of Elderion. At least here she met folks that looked like her and it seemed that she was far away from the whispers of the Mayaar that her reputation didn't precede her. It's not like she stayed in cities long too however and her time in the south was short, only spending enough time to gather enough plants and goods to sell. Being in the southern provinces was a nice experience, trade, barter, and peace within the serene landscape.

If not for the constant reminder that this was the reach she would've thought it was the wondrous plains of Geia. Her time in the south however was only temporary as in her travels she heard word of republic not so far away from The Reach and on the outskirts of Orsinium. With that she made haste from the south and towards the north as her horse galloped and trotted entire days and weeks to the location. Unfortunately it seemed if not under the boot of bandits, the sword of her own kin, it would be nature itself that would put opposition and barrier on every little step of her journey.

Rains stopped her in her tracks and she would have to help pull her horse, Hannibal through the mud as they made their way to Red Rock. But even Ava in all of her anger and stubbornness had her limits. Days in the wilderness without many supplies and seemingly fighting a one way and one sided war with Geia herself had broken her, she spotted an inn on her path and took no qualms in heading in. Tying her horse to the post before taking her ruck sack. Tying her hair back into a loose ponytail she entered the inn before instinctively making a move towards the back near the Valyaar before taking a seat.

Aiwin was looking at the map when the Ava decided to sit at the same table as him. He looked up at her with a curious look, "So what brings you to Stormdenn? " I am only asking since you decided sit with me". Aiwan noticed her rack sack with her, "So I am guessing that you are traveling? "If you are that would make the two of us and if you are hungry then I recommend the steak". He took another sip of his drink and took a deep breath. Ava eyed a spot on his map and Ava could tell that he was looking at Red Rock on his map.

[Holy Lykos]

The Reach
Sumerset
Prauv Wildborn

"Oh It should, it looked like a rather good place. A tavern though so watch out for drunkards." Prauv replied, tail swishing as he tugged her out of the crowd and into the tavern. "You much of a drinker, Anwyn?" He asked, slinging his lyre out of his bag and sitting himself down at a small table in the corner of the tavern pub. He strummed a few notes, humming softly, mostly checking the tuning on his instrument. He continued to plink away, tightening up a few strings to get the sound just right before nodding, satisfied.

"Go to the tavernkeep and see what he has to eat and drink, I'm going to earn a bit of our keep if I can. Southerners always pay more for northern music, in my experience. Its different so they're entertained even if its in our language and they can't understand it."

With that he hummed again, starting to play a tune from his own tribe, something that Anwyn would even find slightly unfamiliar. It was obviously Lupan music, even singing in their language, but it was still slightly different. The song seemed to be a lullaby and praise of Geia and Lucan, from what Anwyn could hear. A song to put little pups to sleep during the cold night. Not a very fast or joyous thing, but a good way to start his playing for the night!