Unite or Fall: Kirimaar at War (IC)

[Ceystile]

The continent of Kirimaar has had a long, turbulent and near-constant history of war and conquest. Rival kingdoms and empires constantly pit their might against one another and warred over dominance, resources and sometimes even failed marriages. It was either conquer or be conquered in those days, so everybody was trying to hold on to their independence and the independence of their lands as well as being forever branded in the annals of history as a great powerful domain, that people would worship their might. Of course, all war and conquest is just as bloody and taxing as it is glorious and the people grew tired of fighting as any people would after so long. They yearned for peace, but how could anybody put so many years of war and bitter history behind them, if it was possible at all?
Fortunately, life would soon make that decision for them. Zorl Karlkovi, the ruthless son of one of the stronger tribal chiefs to the west rose to power after his father's death...a young man with brash dreams of glory like most were. However, he had the planning, the drive and slowly the numbers to make that dream a reality. He cut a bloody swath through Kirimaar, gaining followers and land as he went along and it seemed like he'd conquer the whole continent. Some whispered he'd made a deal with a dark power for his success, nobody knows how he was seemingly unstoppable but he was. Cunning, he built better siege weapons and learned how to use the divide among the realms to his advantage.

He arrived on the kingdoms' doorsteps, and most of them were tired and jaded from war and were trying their best to enjoy the shaky peace. Barely any of the neighbors trusted each other, but if they fell then there'd be no chance for them. The kingdoms' leaders decided to join forces, combining the strongest forces of their militaries...which was easier said than done but they managed to do it. They were defeated alone, but when allied together they became strong enough to push back and eventually defeat Zorl the Conqueror. What helped save them the most however was an elite team of the best warriors and thinkers assembled by the leaders' summit from all across the continent, a team known as The Elite. In a twenty year bloody and ruthless war, Zorl and his army were brought to heel by The Elite and those that they helped lead to victory. Those of the enemy army who surrendered were spared and banished back to their own own lands if they agreed to help repair the damage they caused. Those who didn't were tried, convicted and executed along with their leader.
Thus the first summit was born, and disbanded after deciding that they were better off allies than enemies. The continent finally enjoyed forty long years of true peace and tranquility, and children grew up not knowing the horrors of war. Trade flourished and it seemed that all was falling into place as it should. Unfortunately, this period of peace and prosperity is under a new threat...a new leader rose to become the tribal Queen of Zomaida, Zorl's old kingdom. This young woman was the daughter of Zorl, raised in obscurity and now prepared to rise up to continue the "good works" of her father by uniting all under one crown, by force if necessary. In her mind, this would ensure lasting peace but the other leaders know better. They know that nothing good could come of such a thing, and worrying reports to the south suggest that this will be Zorl all over again, but worse. Old alliances are being reforged, current alliances are being strengthened and tested, and now Kiriimar has to decide how they will deal with this new threat. It seems like another summit will have to be called and a new team of Elite assembled.

You will play as an eventual member of the Second Elite, either a kingdom leader, a military member, somebody with a special skill or just a civilian that's tired of war or fiercely patriotic. Each one of you will be swept up in the whirlwind that is the new threat of Zorl's daughter whether you wish it or not, and you have to decide whether you can work together with old enemies or tentative friends to defend this hard-won peace. Or do you wish to help this new rising warlord ignite this war once again either for hatred, glory or some other such thing. But just remember...united we stand, or divided we fall.

[Ceystile]

Kingdom of Zimaria, Leaders' Summit

Queen Valeria paced the throne room for what must've been the hundredth time that day, the blue and gold tapestries of Zimaria proudly hung from the palace walls as if concealing the nervousness that their monarch was feeling. Straightening her crown on her braided red hair, she took a deep breath and once again looked at the large map of Kirimaar that hung just opposite the right side of the throne.
"Majesty? You summoned me?" Looking up, Valeria smiled in relief when she saw the face of her friend Captain Zora...the other woman was all decked out in her full naval uniform and looking ready as ever although she could see a hint of the nervousness that churned inside herself.

"Zora, it's just Valeria when we're alone. Anyway, yes...I did call you here on a very urgent matter. As you know, we are to host the first Summit that this land has had in forty years and the kingdoms don't exactly have a history of working together very well. I've faced giants, I've rode out with my men to greet enemies and this one thing has me more nervous than all of that."
"Well, I don't know how much help I can be seeing as I'm a soldier and not a diplomat, but..."
"You're loyal, you're competent and you're an excellent leader. All qualities are why I've called you by my side today. We were able to unite under a common enemy, but who knows if that'll happen again?"
"I don't see why not? I mean we've been at relative peace for a pretty long time. You'll be fine. The kingdom's flourished under your reign, we're as strong as the seas that give us our power."
"There's the boldness that's led our armadas to victory time after time." Valeria laughed, threading their brown fingers together. "You're right, but I must make sure everything goes perfect. We can't look weak before the other kingdoms..."
"And we won't. We've survived so much, we can survive this."

[Taganian Unfied States]

Stanford, Imperial Provence, Bangouthian Remnant
The great golden outer complex doors swung open. A detachment of the Blue Guard marched out in full ceremonial uniform. A young man exited the gate on horseback followed by two-standard bearers. He looked out in the Grand Atrium, which was the central plaza that stood outside the Royal Palace. Adjacent to the Palace was the Senatorial Council building where soldiers in black stood in silent vigilence. The Blue Guard cleared a path for the man. This was the Bangouthian Remnants capital city. The heart of the once glittering empire. Not since the time of the Warlord Zori had Stanford its self been threatened with violence. Jordan Primos father had made sure to keep the city safe. Now the once great wall that seperated the tip of the pennisula from the rest, three more walls and larger defense trenches had been built. Each garrisoned by more than the last. The outer-most walls were a beautiful marble-plated system with a great mural all across its wide facade showing the history of the Remnant. Two stone statues standing 50 feet tall on the gate house tower were painted as Bangouthian soldier standing watch. In one hand, there spears leaned forward as if on guard. There shields strapped to there back. From there spears flowed the royal sigil of the Doves and the Bangouthian flag. There war helms stone plumes seen from the balcony of the Palace.

[Senatorial Chamber]
The black chamber doors opened to where twenty men sat around an old table at the top part of the atrium. In the center was a map of there territory. Pieces like from a chessboard were scattered across it. Showing the garrisons of the Bangouthian forces. One in a black robe rose and bowed, "Welcome your Highness, we have several issues for your ttendence." The young KIng held up his hand, "Later," He made his way to his throne at the top of the platform. The various Lords in blue and others in white, the white-clad men were the human nobles who had formed a faction in his council. The black were the Senators who had chosen to step above this squabbling in the council. And the final ones, the blues, were the elves who felt they were higher than all. In grey, were members of the royal family. He slowly sat into his throne and nodded to his left to the man who held a spear. He slammed the smooth end onto the floor three times and called the council to assembly. Jordan smiled,"My Lords, cousins, and subjects and advisors. I welcome you all for matters of great importance." The Red Guard and Blue Guard commander stood beside the King. Each ready to slay any man or woman in this room for daring to challenge there young King. "I have come to ask the council to approve the removal of garrisons inside the pennisula to new deployments along the Evenian Wall and the outer territory." Human territory. The whites stood up immediatly booing the idea. Moving elvish troops into the outlying territory was risky. Humans were cautious of the Elvish lords. Worse, Elvish soldiers. Asrul was the only Elvish duchy beyond the wall. His sister had combined human regiments and elvish guard units effectivly. But it had taken time. Two-years of hard infighting in the ranks.

Grand Ballroom-Palace of Memory, Bangouthian Remnant
Music of the violins and flutes filled the balconies as the lovely ballroom dresses swirled and the men in fine blue uniforms of the Royal officers swooned in the delight of the giggles and delight of the night. One dress, dark blue with golden dust sparkles across its lace. Wherever she went, soldiers in red uniforms and others in blue were often by her side.

"Your Grace, a lovely night you have held," A soldier in a blue uniform bowed deep the golden lady. She smiled and inclined her head, "Captain Zamarian, I hope the Evenian Guard is not all here. Our borders are very precious to me." The officer smiled, "Your orders were clear General. Only the top five in merit were allowed to attend from each garrison." The Duchess smiled, "My men are the finest along the wall. Let no doubt ever go to any other command." Zamarian nodded and offered his arm to the Duchess as they swept out from the giggling girls of the palace to balcony that overlooked the land beyond there border. In the distance, the lights of a border town glowed, nestled in the woods of the Wilmurt Forest. "I worry war is coming," The Duchess began, "Reports are making there way south of a sturring against our former great foe." Zamarian only sighed as he released his Genrals arm, "Perhaps we should agents north." The Duchess shook her head, "They go north and never return. Time to lead the legion." Zamarian stood at attention, "Shall I give the order?" Duchess Andrea Primo stood straight as she could. Her hands tight on the balcony. The Great Gate of Memory, a long draw-bridge that forded a great river and connecting a bridge to the lands of Bangouthia chains were lose and rusting from age. "No, assemble the outer-garrisons. Prepare the evacuations of the border towns. Bring the humans into the fortresses and prepare the gates to seal." Zamaria nodded then saluted, "General."

[Tomia]

Felwen Galad
It was a fairly long and tedious ride for the Fendori delegation to the Kingdom of Zimaria. The delegation included King Quentin, his house guard, his royal mages known as the Magi Circle, and the King's personal elite forces known as the Night Riders. The Riders weren't exactly traveling with the delegation however, they were spread out across the road, some miles ahead and others miles behind. This was perhaps not entirely necessary, but considering where they were going and the purpose of the trip, the commander of the Riders refused to leave their safety up to chance. Speaking of the commander, Felwen Galad's horse trotted along towards the front of the caravan where the King was riding a majestic black mount. Quentin was a handsome enough young man, his pale skin contrasted with his short raven black hair. A silver crown sat on his head, Felwen noticed it looked far more natural there than it had a few years ago.

"The road is clear for the ten miles or so. After that it won't be too long until our destination is in reach." Felwen said to his King who nodded. "I'll be glad to be done with this journey that is for certain." Quentin said with a bit of a smile. The young king was often light hearted and up beat when he could be, but Felwen could also see some anxiousness behind his smile. This meeting they were attending was one of grave importance. The whole continent was once again being threatened by a warlord, and this meeting would be crucial in stopping them.

After about an hour more of riding, they arrived outside of the capital city of Zimaria. Felwen could tell based on the gusting wind and the smell in the air that they were close to the sea, a feeling he wasn't exactly familiar with. As they approached the gates, a member of Quentin's guard announced his arrival to the guards on the other side, and Felwen knew this was just the beginning of a very long trip.