The Curse of Flesh [Fantasy|IC|Always Open]

[Krugmar]

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3rd March, 1000 DM
Lord Hademar von Akhendorf
Nemehiah’s Citadel

Shouting echoed in the streets below, as the common filth rioted, looted and burnt all they could. It had not taken long for the news that their protector, their tyrant, had vanished. His power radiated as he poured it into the Nexus, allowing any half decent mage within a hundred miles to sense him. Yet now one could feel only an absence.

"My lord, Lady Avelah requests your presence in the Nexus chamber." spoke one of the many servants who littered the citadel. It was a vast place, but luckily it had movable compartments which rapidly took one to their destination. He had resided here for a millenium, yet the fascination never ceased.

"Ah, Hademar." said a familiar voice, that of the fair Avelah. Standing beside her was Naamah, though she was busy inspecting a burnt corpse which Hademar could not recognise.

"Is that-"

"It is not Nemehiah, no. I asked poor Aramak here to attempt to connect with the Nexus as Nemehiah used to do. It drained him quickly, and he could not pull himself out." replied Naamah.

Hademar looked at the font of power and shuddered. A small walkway of unknown material was suspended above a swirling whirlpool of vicious magical energies. An orb was position on a circular platform at the end of the walkway, along with many other contraptions that Hademar did not recognise. Nemehiah had spent most of his life attempting to figure it out, and had only managed to partly work with the orb and sustain the barrier, yet was forced to use himself as the conduit. Every day he would drain a portion of his power into the orb, and every week he would feed upon the unfortunate souls brought by the Censors.

The unpleasant thoughts were cut short as the chamber shuddered, and the light in the orb slowly faded. The barrier had fallen for the first time in a thousand years.

"Naamah, send out the Censors to every corner of Dravarn. We must find Nemehiah at any cost." said Avelah.

Hademar shook his head, "Our lord will only be found when he wants to be. We must follow his example and unite the peoples of Dravarn, for the Seven will surely return."

He had not even noticed that Naamah had left the corpse, and joined them. "He spoke to me, several weeks ago, of dark dreams and visions. He only told me of one of them, that his surviving brethren had spoken to him, taunted him, and promised destruction no matter what barrier stood between them. He has not vanished without a cause, I know it."

Hademar wished he had her confidence. He had been alive long enough to know that only death was a certainty, and with the Seven returning it was now a certainty for all.

1st September, 1000 DM
Lilita no Virmo
Fort Dawn

The ancient fortress was imposing, situated upon a large hilltop overlooking much of the Drusterwald. Engineers and masons had brought it back to life within a short time, though there was much work yet to be finished. She had seen a small army of tents camped around the hill, throughout the forest, and assumed that it had grown even larger since she arrived one week ago. Refugees, heroes, villains, many had flocked to join the Alliance after the news of the blood god's disappearance had become common.

She had only a few retainers with her now, for few had fled with her when her family's position was usurped. Such was their custom,
but Valdis had made a mistake in leaving her alive. With the help of the Alliance she would slay him and his cohort, and retake her home and title. Then, in return, she would give them the full support of her clan.

For now, she would await the presence of the Alliance commanders.

1st September, 1000 DM
Censor Fifty-One
Fortress of Light

He had gained many strange looks as he entered the fortress, and had been escorted by legionnaires the entire time, though whether for their protection or his, he did not know. It had only been several months since the legion had allied themselves with the Sorrowful and Redeemers, and many of their human members seemed uneasy with the alliance, though understanding of its practicality at this time. Perhaps they even had pity for those Redeemers, as vampires hating themselves and their condition?

Such thoughts were irrelevant. Fifty-One had come only to convey news, of the Ravager's movements, to aid the Legion. Like the Alliance, it had gained considerable support after the collapse of the barrier, and was on the verge of becoming one of Dravarn's powers once again. The declining fortress was on the rise, as workers repaired old and abandoned halls now filled. Yet one thing still stood in their way, Hauki the Defiler and his army of Ravagers.

Hopefully the High Seeker would listen to him, otherwise it would be a trip wasted, and, if it went very badly, his last trip.

[Greater Dmanian]

1st September, 1000 DM
Cassius Morerant
Fortress of Light

Running his finger along a seam in the stone of the Fortress walls Cassius strolled along a recently repaired section of the once crumbling walls. He had been shocked at how bad things had gotten since his last visit some centuries ago, a traitor had cut the hamstrings of a once formidable force. He had seen similar situation repeat in his long life, though he prayed to the Gods this would be one of the rare cases that justice would be delivered to the Godless coward who turned on the Legion. Had he been some centuries earlier he may have killed the inhabitants of the once crumbling ruin on a similar charge, they after all had been the men who betrayed him and his family, though they had long perished and it was now up to the Gods to deliver justice.

He exhaled as he felt his blood warm at the recollection of his family; his land, his birthright now unremarkable forest. The bones of his family and servants fertiliser, lost to time like any other mortal creation. He couldn't feel it but he knew red had flooded into his ice blue eyes as rage crept into him. Cassius felt a tightness within him, another push at his besieged soul by the taint; clenching his fist he muttered a prayer feverishly before the feeling once again receded to the peripheral of his mind.
Cassius felt eyes fall upon him prompting him to glance to the side, surveying the courtyard , a group of training men had stopped to stare at him. They knew what he was, he had made sure to make it clear upon arrival, it was better for them to get the distrust out of their system rather than risk revealing it when he required their support. Not that he liked putting himself in the open, a target on his back for any misguided fool to try take a shot at. His eyes trailed down catching his reflection in a puddle nearby, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinised the face that looked back at him. His skin had been growing taut and paler by the year. He scowled as he convinced himself that he accepted the limited time he had left to maintain some semblance of a normal appearance and could enjoy far longer with his sanity intact.

He knew deep down why he had come here, one final great act of devotion to the Gods he would either die and Gods willing be saved from the wretched afterlife that awaited a tainted creature such as him or recede from the world of mortals until either his affliction could be reversed or until his soul gives into the evil that saturates his body.

[Liecthenbourg]

1st September, 1000 DM
Tarja Immolese
Fort Dawn

She stared into the wilderness from atop the battlements.

Nature was wondrous. Beautiful. The forest stretched on for miles and within she could hear the singing and talking of the creatures. It was bliss. A causal distraction from the drums and beats of war. Yet it was an inspiration, for the forests too were at risks from these Seven and their malice. It shook Tarja, the proclaimed "Librarian of the Woods", to her core. And here yet she was, declared a General of the "Alliance for the Dawn." She felt a great deal of inspiration of that. But guilt, as well. They had named her their General for what; her magic? For these people, many, were hopeful. Many had left their lives to fight for a greater good. And they placed their trust in her - and even a simple task as speaking to many she found difficult.

Despite her best efforts, Tarja was unable to rally support for the cause amidst the holds of the Wildkind. Prince Amlos tir Volenmyr was not willing to part with soldiers and men, preferring the sanctuary of his kingdom of Ilvan Thar over the war to save the world. She could understand. The Wildkind were a paranoid people. An ostracised people. A bullied people. But she could not comprehend. She pleaded with the Prince, and threw herself to his feet to fight the darkness.

And he did naught. The noble Prince whom the Widlkind admired sat on his Ivy Throne with his arms crossed and cast her hopes down with three decisive "nays."

With that she had left, her possessions at hand as she marched off to fight a war to defend the world.

She turned from the world before her, her staff at hand, her vestments in the breeze, and she descended down the stairs towards the halls within the fort. The troops needed inspiration, or missions, and she intended to give them her best. No matter how much her internal person screamed at her for talking to those who were different, but she knew better than Wildkind instinct. It was still a chore, but trained it could be. With that thought buried within her she gulped down her pride, stiffened her composure and stepped into the halls many had found themselves lingering in.

[Warg the Immortal]

1st September, 1000 DM
Milos Inecatul Batran
Fort Dawn

Milos peered from one of the windows of Fort Dawn, over the miles and trees that composed the Drusterwald. He'd been loath to travel through it, knowing that somewhere within Mircea lurked, awaiting more victims. But his sister had been adamant, their clan had been among those to join the first organization of the Alliance for the Dawn, and would not dishonour themselves by refusing to answer the call once again.

He took one last look to the northeast, where his family's seat of Hymoor, as well as the Kingdom he had served for most of his life, lay. Sighing, he turned from the window, and made his way down one of the many corridors of the ancient fortress. This had been his first time returning to it since the Bloodstrife, back when most of his family had still been alive, and the Batran's were still thought of as powerful.

As he walked the candlelit halls of Fort Dawn his thoughts drifted to the Alliance and how it could possible hope to end the chaos if Nemehiah failed to return or be found. He clasped his hand around the amulet, engraved with his clan's sigil, wondering whether he and his sister would survive the impending strife, or if this conflict would succeed in snuffing out the sparse remnants of the Batrans.

As he made his way into one of the castle's many rooms which broke the spiderweb of corridors he could see he was not alone. A noblewoman of Clan Virmo stood within. He'd seen her arrive about one week prior, but had seen little of her since. She was certainly young, by vampire standards anyway. Much younger than himself or his sister, though from what he'd heard she was the current matriarch of the ancient clan. Clearing his throat he made introduction.

"Pardon me milady, I did not realize this room was occupied. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Milos, of Clan Batran."

[Elerian]

Eygon of Harwick, High Seeker
The Fortress of Light

A cold breeze drifted in from the Mountains, bringing with it the faint whiff of something burning. To many the smell would be associated to the cook fires in the hills around the Fortress, but Eygon knew better. Eygon had been inspecting the new recruits training in the yard below, still amazed at the great number of recruits the Legion had received since the failing of the barrier. No one in living memory could recall the Fortress being so crowded, so crowded that many had to sleep in the hills surrounding the Fortress. Eygon’s gaze shifted to a nearby banner that flapped lazily in the breeze, a blazing eye was stitched carefully into the fabric of the banner. The Blazing Eye had been the sigil of the Legion for millennia, making the Legion just as old, if not older. It was hard to fathom how the Legion had survived for even a hundred years with so many vampires, mad Kings, and gods know what lurking in the shadows. Eygon had even tried to negotiate with Nehemiah earlier on, when he thought that maybe, just maybe the Vampires could be reasoned with. It had been a terrible idea, one brought on by his naiveté, but he had been smart enough to keep it secret. His attempt to negotiate ended almost as soon as it began. The delegation had been slaughtered almost as soon as it arrived in Otharaunt, and in the time that’d transpired Eygon had done all in his power to be a thorn in Nehemiah’s side. That was until six months ago. For a long, long time all the Legion had had to deal with was Nehemiah and all the dark creatures that he and his brethren had spawned. Yet now, the barriers had fallen and hordes of gods know what we’re pouring into central Dravarn. For the Legion, Hauki the Defiler was already encroaching on their territory. Even now several of his Legions fought vainly to hold the mountain passes leading to the valley the Fortress of Light was situated within. It was only a matter of time before they were pushed back, and then the only thing standing between the Legion and its demise was the ancestral home of the Legion itself. A troublesome notion that he had struggled with for many days and nights, but in the end there was little that he could do. For now at least, he would have to be patient, something he’d long grown accustomed to.

Waiting was almost as fruitful as praying for the return of the Gods. And yet, many within the Legion of Light had long thought that if the widespread worship of the Gods returned, then so too would they return and aid their faithful. Smiting the Vampires from the face of world and returning Dravarn to the peaceful tranquility that it had once enjoyed, Eygon personally thought it to be hogwash, but deep down he wished it would be so.

As Eygon was caught up in his pondering he didn’t hear as one of his men came up from behind him. At the last moment Eygon wheeled around and looked the man up and down with his hand on his blade. He breathed a sigh of relief as the soldier spoke.

“High Seeker, the new Legion is assembled and awaits you.”

Eygon nodded his thanks to the soldier and walked past him towards the door. He had already been dressed for the occasion; he wore all the pieces of the famed snow white High Seeker armor. As Eygon walked down the stairs, accompanied by his personal guard, his thoughts wandered to the Vampires strapped to the top of the Fortress of Light. It was not named so simply because of its occupants or even the white walls that lined the keep. The Fortress of Light was known for the massive mirrors that lined its ramparts and high towers. As far as Eygon knew the mirrors had always been on the Fortress of Light, yet the Legion used them for more than just defense against Vampires, their most important function was as a spectacle for the locals and any visitors that may come to the Fortress of Light. On occasion the mirrors were used to burn Vampires alive in a fiery display of the Legion’s magnum opus; to extinguish the Vampire threat in Dravarn. They stripped captured Vampires of their clothes and tied them up in front of the largest mirror, that just so happened to be located on the highest, and most visible tower.

The new Legion of two thousand mostly green soldiers had been split into ten companies of two hundred men. While in times past the companies were typically tasked with finding vampires to burn alive, this practice was deemed in poor taste considering the Legion’s recent alliances. Many of the senior officers had protested, they believed the exercise would show their new allies what would happen should they betray the Legion. Even still, Eygon was forced to suspend that portion of the initiation for the foreseeable future. Eygon much enjoyed the graduation of each Legion without all the screaming, but he’d also been forced to cut out much of the traditional ceremony in light of the barrier’s demise.

Eygon walked through the courtyard past a number of saluting recruits until he passed through the first of many gates. He’d been informed that a Censor from Otharaunt had recently arrived, before he would meet with the Censor, however, they would be made to watch the christening of the new Legion. That way, the Censor would report back that the Legion was stronger than ever, and not to be trifled with. The new Legion was arrayed in the fields just outside of the Fortress, they were to set out just as soon as the ceremony was done. Several minutes later Eygon stood atop a raised dais as two thousand men and women looked up at him in their glimmering armor. Two mages stood to either side of Eygon ready to use their magic to amplify his voice so that all may hear. Eygon cleared his throat and began.

“Initiates, we have gathered here today to celebrate your victory over the forces of the dark, and to usher you on your way to the first of many adventures. This will be the last time you will see the Fortress of Light, our beloved home, for some time. This is because today, as you know, you leave us to travel east to relieve the Legion at Radiant Peak.” There were a number of murmurs that erupted from the soldiers. They all knew what that entailed, and it was certainly nothing good. Even still, Eygon continued, “do not fret, if you perform as admirably as you did in these past few weeks then you will return to us unharmed, and should the Gods will it, a short time. It has come to my attention that all of you performed admirably.” Eygon continued, “For your-“ Eygon’s speech was suddenly cut short when one of his personal guards awkwardly mounted the stage and spoke a few words into his ears.

“The mountain Legions are in full retreat, the passes have been lost.”

Eygon cut most of his portion of the ritual, trying not to let the shock show on his face. They quickly departed back to the Fortress. Few who stood in that field could tell that anything was wrong, most probably thought some urgent, but not catastrophic, matter needed his attention. With the mountain passes taken the Legion would have to move swiftly, otherwise the end times may be upon them all.

This meant that the Legion garrisoning Radiant Peak would have to wait a bit longer, the green recruits would join Eygon and march on Hauki. Eygon knew their chances of success were slim, but there was little choice in the matter. Eygon was through waiting, now was his time to join the fray and take the day for the Gods, or die trying. But first he would need to meet with this Censor. Eygon would go into the meeting skeptical, and he would probably leave the meeting skeptical.

He sent one of his guard to bring the Censor to him in his study. Eygon eagerly awaited the creature.

[Auropa]

1st September, 1000 DM
Milos Inecatul Batran
Fort Dawn

‘This was the legendary fort Dawn?!’ Gwendolyn thought as she left her carriage. ‘Some dusty castle on a mountain side?’ True, it looked defensible but what’s the point of having a legendary anything if it didn’t have the flare to match. With a small sigh of disappointment, she handed her driver some coin and made her way towards the castle. Whether it was as grand as she wanted or not, even she couldn’t deny the need for solid castle walls, especially now. Already signs of the coming danger were starting to crop on the road here, and with it, fear, aggression and violence were becoming increasingly common sights across the land. If anything could stop it, or at the very least give people the hope they needed, it would probably be the legends of old and the alliance for dawn was one of the oldest.

Still, as she looked around on her way to the fort she couldn’t help but feel unease. Sure, there was a lot of metal here, soldiers, each with their strengths and experiences close to hand. But there were others too. Refugees seeking shelter, broken families either desperate for safety or vengeance and of course, those who saw a profit in the madness. If any army ever invaded this place most of these people would be slaughtered within the first day. ‘Then again, that’s why I’m here’ she decided trying to push her doubts away ‘These people need hope, someone that can protect them and give them a future. And what could be better than one of the greatest light mages of our time?’ focusing her mind she pressed on determined to finally meet with the legendary alliance.

Though her determination and noble drive quickly vanished at the gates to the fort as she was refused entry.
“Ma’am I’m sorry, but the fort is still only accessible to select members of the alliance. If you’re with the mages there’s a section being set up down to the south.” The guard blocking Gwendolyn was a relatively short but well-built soldier, with the marks of a dozen campaigns written across his face. In truth he appeared as almost the polar opposite to the energetic, young mage standing in front of him.
“And I’ll tell you again, I am Gwendolyn Rouge of Fenmoor. Light mage, enchanter and a person with very little patience for idiotic guards telling me to camp outside! I mean honestly, is it really that hard for you to just get up and ask someone who’s actually important exactly why you shouldn’t keep me waiting out here?”
So far the argument had been raging for nearly 20 minutes with the guard refusing to allow her entry and her refusing to back down. Neither showed any sign of compromise until eventually the guard seemed to have enough.
“Look" He began with "I understand you might feel as though this is your destiny. I’ve talked to about a hundred other people today looking for anything from adventure to vengeance. And I get it, you’re young, some stuff seems bad and this is a good chance for you to make your mark. But guess what? This is important an people's lives are at stake. We can’t have a bunch of kids, however rich or smart you think you are, running amok in the war rooms. So get a tent, sign up to a unit and bother someone else.”
It was at this moment Gwendolyn felt the urge to perform an ever so slightly over-the-top show of power in order to make the guard completely understand the situation he had gotten himself into. Though maybe as a result of this, one of the captains over-hearing the situation moved in to intervene at the last second.
“Is there a problem here?”
“You could say that.” Gwendolyn said still staring daggers at the guard in front of her. “My name is Gwendolyn Rouge and since its apparently so important, I was told to head here in order to represent my master who is no longer able to uphold his duties within the Alliance.” Then reaching into her bag she produced a single sheet of paper which she practically threw it into to the captain’s hands. “You’re guard here, won’t let me in since he’s obsessed with the idea that my letter is a forgery and I’m some child seeking attention.”
For a few moments the captain was silent as he read the letter. After which he gave a glance to Gwendolyn then the guard then finally back to the letter all before giving a small exhausted sigh.
“Apologies for the misunderstanding m’lady, I’ll escort you to your chambers.”
Upon hearing the captain’s response Gwendolyn wasted no time in gloating over her victory “HA! You see! That, is how you treat your superiors… Ahem. Now then, I think I’ve spent enough time outside the gates, I’ll be happy to be shown around.”
Not wanting to risk letting the guard make a response the captain immediately replied and took her towards the keep. For a while the two stayed quiet, it wasn’t until they arrived at the main door to the fort itself did the captain finally speak up. “With all due respect m’lady, the guard back there was just doing his job. All these changes and recruits make the danger we’re in all the more clear. I’m sure he meant no disrespect.” For a little while Gwendolyn was quiet as she considered the man’s words and their meaning before giving the man a warm but out of place smile. “You seem to be a good man captain” She finally said “And while your man is an idiot, I’m not planning on doing anything about it. We’re all here for the same cause and infighting won't help any of us. Just make sure that the next time I’m going to be stuck outside, I at least have drink or something.”
With a small sigh of relief, the captain began to relax as they passed through the doors “That may be a bit difficult. Though you have my thanks for forgiving him. The man’s wound up but a good soldier. I guess he thought it was a bit strange since we already have a light mage here acting as a general.”
“Huh, another light mage then, and a general too? Should prove to be entertaining.”
“Probably more than that, some of the boys keep calling her the Legend of the Woods, I‘m not sure about the details but apparently she’s quite famous from where she’s from. Though she’s old, some sort of Alfar, good decade or so past a century apparently.”
“Captain, to an Alfar being a century old would make her practically an infant. This alliance must be desperate if someone so young like that’s acting as a general. Though then again that’s why I’m here. Save the world and all that.”
Deciding against mentioning the sorceress’s own youth or the general irony, the guard stayed silent as he lead Gwendolen through the fort and towards her chambers. “Anyways, here we are. If you’d like to m’lady, you can set up your belongings here and rest. The journey here nowadays is usually far from pleasant. Several others have also arrived within the castle but someone will send for you should any major gathering be called.” Then with a short nod of farewell, the guard left Gwendolyn to her devices. Truthfully, she was still more than a little scared, if Nemeiah really had disappeared then saying the whole world was in danger really wasn’t an understatement. Though fear had never stopped her before no matter the outcome she’d do what she always does and make sure to put up one hell of a fight. ‘Though later of course.’ She thought as her previous determination left her and the exhaustion from weeks of travel finally caught. In one precise movement void of all grace she threw her belongings to the side before going face first into her bed, falling asleep seconds after the moment of contact.

[Krugmar]

1st September, 1000 DM
Lilita no Virmo
Fort Dawn

From her room she could spy an alfar standing atop the battlements, gazing out to the woods surrounding the fort. She had proud bearings, and did not seem concerned with the hustle and bustle going on.

"Andris."

"Yes my lady?" answered the young vampire, of only two centuries and dressed in what may as well have been sackcloth.

"Relay a message to that alfar, tell her I await her in the Great Hall." she replied, her gaze still on the alfar.

"It will be done."

1st September, 1000 DM
Censor Fifty-One
Fortress of Light

It seemed that the call had come, for his guards of dubious nature were now leading him through a maze of corridors. Not once did they look at him, nor could he feel any fear, truly the rumours about the Legion were true. They would be most useful, in their part to come, even if they did hate him and his master.

The doors opened, and he entered alone. Inside was sat the man he assumed was the High Seeker, unless they were playing games with him. Unlikely. They did not seem the type to play such games.

"I will skip with the pleasantries, High Seeker Eygon, for I know none exist between our kinds." he said bluntly, walking within a reasonable distance of the man. He disliked raising his voice to be heard, but he did not want to get too close as to set off the guards outside. A foolish thing, for he would already be grappling Eygon by the time they could burst through the door. Who would win such a bout, was a question that need not be answered.

"My arrival should not come as a surprise, I hope. Dravarn stands on the brink of Armageddon, and the Legion is one of the only forces which can help prevent it. Strangely..." he said, chuckling, "Nemehiah may be its only hope, though such words will be poisonous to you. And I may be of some help to your Legion myself."

He walked around the room a bit, picking up mementos and items from shelves, drawers, and looked at various sheets, filled with plans, notes, and designs which he could not make sense of. "Whether you choose to accept my help is irrelevant to me, but very much to yourself. In two days hence, Hauki will march out with most of the Ravagers and pass through Redemption Keep, one of your ruins, on his way to sack the Duchy of Bradun. A perfect time to ambush him, regain your honour, and gain the support of the duke which has been waning these days, no?"

He pushed his luck, and stepped slowly towards the High Seeker, until they were only three arm lengths apart. In a hushed voice, he said "You will be relieved that Neculai has not taken the field, and you face only his vanguard for the moment. If you choose to accept my help, I will relay his movements as best I can."

He stepped back, "And so, High Seeker, will you make a deal with your enemy, or fight this war alone?"

1st September, 1000 DM
Censor Seventy-Five
Deadlands

The air was foul, and the darkness crept in from all directions. He had never been this blind before, this out of control. Chains chafing his arms and legs, restricting even the most basic of movements. It felt like a hard stone slab he was lying upon, but in the darkness he could not tell.

An eery green light began to fill the room, before being whisked away into chandeliers made of what seemed to be bones. He could not make out much of his location, but he was definitely in a small dungeon somewhere. Footsteps could be heard in the distance, and a dire wheezing that put him at edge. And power, a great deal of magical energy began seeping into the room, though it felt alien and uneasy.

A horrific creature pulled itself through the door, a gangling mess of bones and flesh which seemingly lacked a face. It moved on all fours, but possibly only because the room was too small for it to stand as a sentient would. Was it looking at him? He could not tell, which made his predicament all the worse.

"You are one of his slaves." it said, gnarled and twisted words slowly and agonisingly forming from the faceless chasm. "Do you not recognise old Neculai?"

"You are Neculai? I expected more than a mere beast." he replied defiantly.

"Misplaced courage stemming from blind faith in an accursed betrayer. I will fix that, I will fix many things. He has promised it so." Neculai said, prowling around the Censor as if examining him. "A new body for you, and eventually a new one for me, all in good time. But first I must delve inside you, get all your juicy secrets, and rebuild you. Then you will no longer be a slave, and you will be able to truly see and hear, yes... yes. But first, the pain."

His scream never reached the light of day.

1st September, 1000 DM
Unnamed Figure
Buuranekelos

The figure stood atop the mount, gazing down at the vast city below. Behind him stood a fortress of renown, though its name had been lost to time, a hall so vast it could fit the measly cities above in it three-fold. There was also another figure with him, a friend, ally, and mentor.

"You have returned." said his friend.

The figure nodded, though his gaze remained upon the city. "It begins, he has promised it so."

[Liecthenbourg]

1st September, 1000 DM
Tarja Immolese
Fort Dawn

She had been summoned. For what, she did not know. A young vampire, calling himself Andris. Depressed poorly, but homely. It was... odd.

Desperate times called for desparate measures, perhaps?

Tarja mentally scolded herself at that trail of thought and she clenched her teeth as the vampire informed her of the wishes of a certain Lilita no Virmo wishing to meet her in the Great Hall. She recalled the name, one of the early individuals here. Of the Clan Virmo, of course! She certainly had the aspects of her clan. She was certainly known within Fort Dawn, but she was not understood. Tarja had heard the tales of the lack of morality that the Virmo toyed with. It struck her deep within, a plucking at the fabric of her being.

She ground her teeth now and the vampire stared at her a little more intently.

"Of course, Andris - if I am permitted to call you as such - I shall make my way there now." She sighed, resting on her staff created from a hardy oak, before she slowly blinked and a voice inside of her screamed. She spluttered out something incomprehensible, composed herself and gave a decisive: "Thank you."

Tarja made her way throughout the stone corridors and arches in the fort, making quick snippets of commands and conversations to the engineers and foot scattered about. Some nodded back, some saluted and others even conversed back with their thanks or suggestions.

Yet despite all that she could hear the much more welcome company from outside, the dialogue of birds and of forest mammals. They didn't fight, however, nor were necessary in the grand scheme of things to defeat the Seven.

At least she assumed they didn't know. She hadn't directly asked any of them if they knew, either. Odd.

Two clad footmen in hauberks and full sallet helms opened the wooden doors into the great hall and Tarja strode in, her robes flowing with her movements as her staff clicked and clacked against the tiles upon the floor. She spied a figure, who she assumed was the one who had given her the message.

A bow, graceful and Alfarish.

"Lilita no Virmo, the pleasure is mine."

[Krugmar]

1st September, 1000 DM
Lilita no Virmo
Fort Dawn

She gazed at the alfar who strode towards her, eyes drinking in every movement. She was young, but exuded a confidence befitting an elder. Despite that there was much fear and doubt in her heart, as there was in all mortals. She was one of the two commanders of the Alliance, perhaps a symbol of how desperate they were to choose one so young.

"It certainly is." she replied nonchalantly. Her gaze then turned to the few rugged retainers who had accompanied her into the hall. "Leave us." she commanded, and they did. One might wonder if she had brought them in merely to make a display of power, no matter how small.

She stared into the eyes of the commander, looking deep inside. "I have no time for pleasantries, commander. As you likely know my family was betrayed by a young member of our clan, Valdis, who with his small faction has taken command of the clan and our lands. By Virmo custom it is his if he can defend it." she said, sighing that the cutthroat rules of her clan, designed to make weapons out of those chosen to receive the gift,
had instead worked against them.

"His mistake was not managing to have me, or my supporters, killed. And now I am here, to offer you Virmo support in this war in exchange for you retaking what is rightfully mine. My contacts in the keep tell me that Valdis plans to pledge allegiance to one of the Seven, in hopes that they will spare him." she lied.

She turned her gaze from the eyes of the commander, looking at the various people shuffling through the hall. "You will not have to waste many lives, I can reveal a passage which leads into the central keep, where Valdis and his traitors are holed up. Most of the clan will simply watch to see who wins, they are loyal only to the strong."

Her cold grey eyes returned to young Tarja, "so." she spoke, "will you aid us, or not?"

[Liecthenbourg]

1st September, 1000 DM
Tarja Immolese
Fort Dawn

Tarja noted the darting of those eyes.

Those faint orbs. Scanning. Learning. Deducing. Her paranoia struck at her heart with a dagger, but she remained composed as she drowned out her own thoughts.

Assassin! Assassin!

She subdued those thoughts. Tarja recoiled slightly, spying forth at the dismissing of the retainers. This woman had an agenda. A purpose. Her eyes, those devilish things, those things that lacked morality, those...

The eyes!

She swallowed and stared back. This Lilita went on about her reasons, her desires, her plots - the betrayal of Clan no Virmo from within. Slow nods with every statement from Lilita, a careful scanning of her person with her own eyes. She felt the unease with the declaration of aiming to align with the Seven, she felt the gritted words being spun on a wheel of falsity.

She lies straight to your face, spins false truths on her webs of honey-words. For shame, for shame!

Tarja contemplated for a few minutes after she had finished. Her hands tightened their grips around her staff and she stared blankly at the floor, her eyes barely shifting from their position. She was snapped back to attention when she had allowed her eyes to drift lazily up to Lilita again, who had begun to tap her foot in impatience.

"Few lives?" She asked again and Lilita nodded in agreement. Her magic, the internal flame, pulsated with her, working with her paranoia to throw up the flags of the deceiving nature of the woman opposite her. She cast them down with her own will and brought a smile to her face as best she could.

"It would be a great set-back to have the Seven have allies in this world, and taking your home would merely bolster the Alliance's own strength if you are as committed as you say." She turned, turning towards the door from whence she entered. "Consider this an agreement in supporting you; yet I have to ask: is this why you came to the Alliance for the Dawn, or do your intentions run true?"

[Elerian]

-snip-

Eygon of Harwick, High Seeker
The Fortress of Light

Eygon merely watched and listened to the Censor as he stalked about the room, talking and grabbing old priceless artifacts, items, and documents that had been in the Legion’s possession for generations. It irked Eygon that this being, who lacked even a name, would be so bold as to handle these items with the same care and curiosity of a thumb suckling babe. However, Eygon would have to put aside his frustrations, if not for himself then for Dravarn. Despite this creature’s uncouth nature, it held a great deal of intelligence that Eygon could make use of. Yet, much of what was said did little to surprise Eygon. Hauki had been sitting in the mountains for a great deal of time, and Eygon had been expecting him to move. Though, the idea that he would abandon the mountains in favor of an attack on Bradun had seemed unlikely to Eygon.

But the mention of Neculai was wholly unexpected. Eygon had believed early on in his career that Neculai was just a tale told to recruits to scare them. Once he ascended to High Seeker, Eygon learned the truth however. While the Censor’s information was meant to ease Eygon’s troubled mind, he wasn’t so sure that the fact Neculai hadn’t committed himself fully to the fray was such a good thing.

It was curious that someone such as the Censor could be so certain of all these things, in these times of uncertainty. The High Seeker knew that the vampire’s networks of spies were extensive, but he also knew there was probably more that the Censor knew but withheld, even if he were to say he would join the Censorate. There was always a choice to be made, but in this case the choice wasn’t there. Should he refuse the creature’s offer the Legion would be alone. Should he accept however, gods knew what his Legates would believe. His approval had already had a marked drop after he’d made a pact with the Vampires and Alfar that were loyal to the Legion’s cause.

Eygon would agree to it, for now.

“Aye, the Legion will aid you, but only so long as this threat looms over us all.”

Eygon would be sure to send a messenger to the Legion holding the passes to ascertain whether or not Hauki was in fact on the move. If he was, that Legion would make a cautious retreat back to the Fortress to group up with the green Legion and the High Seeker himself. Hauki needed to be stopped, and Eygon would personally ensure that he was.

[Krugmar]

1st September, 1000 DM
Lilita no Virmo
Fort Dawn

Lilita continued gazing at the women, stealing the truth from her very eyes. She was correct to believe that this one, while young,
was skilled. Her eyes had betrayed her, subtle movements which told Lilita that her lie had fallen flat. It did not matter, the Alliance needed more supporters regardless.

"Not being devoured by one of the Seven is certainly a plus, so you may consider our intentions true, even if we were forced to them out of desire for survival. That said, there are levels of survival that we are prepared to accept, though ones that we would not prefer." she said,
something Tarja would know not to be a lie.

"I will not be accompanying you personally, I'd simply be a target and draw unnecessary attention. I will send Andris with you, he is young but a skilled and savage fighter."

She turned to leave, before stopping next to Tarja. "Be wary, he may attempt to turn on you. Truth be told I don't trust him, and truth be told I am sending him with you to keep him from me, and test his loyalty. I trust you will remove him if he proves a liability." she whispered,
before striding out of the hall.

1st September, 1000 DM
Censor Fifty-One
Fortress of Light

"Then I fear you shall have to suffer my presence for some time, High Seeker." said the Censor, giving a bow that could easily be construed as a jovial mocking. He turned to leave, placing back one of the items he had picked up and hadn't replaced.

He stopped before he reached the door. "It took too long for me to get to you, and our time is valuable. In future I shall simply drop in, with either dark words, or joyful news." he said, leaving before the High Seeker could make his reply.

The Censorate was not gambling, or at least their Censors weren't. The Triumvirate enjoyed strutting around the tower, claiming power as Nemehiah's lieutenants, but his Censors listened only to his commands. The Legion and the Alliance were mere pawns in their quest to find their master. It was now their sole purpose, and Fifty-One would have to ensure that the Legion was on a leash, lest it bite the hand feeding it. That would truly be unfortunate, for all parties involved. For all Dravarn.

[Greater Dmanian]

1st September, 1000 DM
Cassius Morerant
Fortress of Light

Cassius narrowed his eyes as he watched Censor leave the keep. While he had never had much dealings with the Censorate or its followers he had heard nothing good of them, though the history of their master was far more disconcerting to the Faith of Cassius than any slight that would bother him. Even if they had somehow found themselves aligned with the seven he could not believe that anyone, at least of the faith could stomach such a proposition long after the threat was dealt with.

Darting his eyes back to his sword he continued to oil the ancient blade, its runes and steel worn from decades of use. He was proud that he had kept it in such fine condition since receiving it just over a century ago. Even his tunic had only been replaced when battle or the years literally ruined the threads beyond repair, the crest of his forgotten house the oldest possession he had. He traced his finger along the fading fabric picturing the thorn and rose adorned Portcullis guarded by two lions.

He sighed softly as he stared into his reflection in the blade, placing it gently against his travelling pack he reached for a dull Cuirass next to his recently oiled sword. The currently open pieces were heavy, although not a problem for the aged vampire it was designed for use by a mounted mortal rather than a foot soldier giving greater protection in exchange for greater encumbrance. He had managed to procure it from the quartermaster shortly before his arrival, the pitifully maintained and slightly rusted chest plate being shunned in favour of the newly smithed sets.

Reaching for his trusty cleaning kit he cracked his neck and began to work away at the rust and turn the sorry looking steel into something worthy of protecting a nobleman doing the work of the Gods.

[Liecthenbourg]

1st September, 1000 DM
Tarja Immolese
Fort Dawn

She smiled at the faint touches of honest seeping from her words. Tarja gave a short nod as the woman of Clan Virmo continued to speak. She then gave her warning, that of Andris' loyalty and intentions. The Alfar took the mental note of it and kept it to herself that she would try her best to discern his motivation; the inner machinations of his soul.

As Lilita turned to leave, Tarja gently grabbed her by the wrist in an unprecedented move of forwardness. "If he compromises the mission, or shows signs of allegiance to parties such as the Seven, it shall be done." she whispered back before loosening her grip. "I shall see to it."

Tarja turned, her back to the Clanswoman, and she quickly ordered a lieutenant to gather the forces of the Alliance within the Great Hall of Fort Dawn, for she had to select her team and soldiers for this task set forth to gather more support.