Legends of Eroris: Arrival |IC|

[Alinora]

Herrath Sanctuary | Coasts south of Herrath | The Reach

---

"He wants you to assassinate... the Emperor?"

Anjor's shock, and indeed that of the entire council, was expected, and the only response Mercer could offer was a nod. He stood before the others, but had asked them to sit to take the news, and it obviously was not taken well. Sure, the Black Hand had carried out risky contracts in the past, but nothing to this scale had been attempted for centuries. Most if not all of the council members seemed extremely reluctant, but they all understood that this was also the will of Lunara. The contract must be completed. Mercer cleared his throat and proceeded to explain the details. "Before the Emperor can be eliminated, there are three other targets we must take care of, and our contact is very specific in the time and manner that they are dealt with."

"Well, who are these other targets?" asked Delwyn.

"Alves Varian, Lord Alaro Sealight, and High Councillor Lhoris." he answered. "All three assassinations will be taking place in the city of Yherion."

"I suppose it's better than the Imperial capital" Althidon commented.

Wulmar then jumped in. "Sentinel, you said that the contact would like these targets dealt with a certain way. What would that be?"

Mercer sighed and cleared his throat. "Alves Varian is the sister of Lord Sealight, and according to our contact, they frequently make public appearances together. We are going to kill them while they address a crowd." Gorruk, the Orc, laughed historically.

"Those are always the best!"

Mercer didn't laugh, but did find Gorruk's sense of humor amusing. "High Councillor Lhoris will visit the city to mourn the deaths of these two individuals, and it is during this time that we will remove of him as well. The only catch is, it must look like an accident. We cannot use poisons of any sort-- it's too much of a risk. We'll just have to be more creative." The council was quiet, and Mercer nodded. "Gorruk, take your team to Yherion and gather all information you can. I will finalize preparations here and we'll join you." Gorruk nodded, and Mercer looked to Delwyn. "Delwyn, take your team to Isnhrion and make contact with the chapter there. Gather any and all information you can on Imperial security over the city-- especially in and around the Emperor's palace. Pull all strings and call all favors you can." Mercer tossed Delwyn and Gorruk a few of the rings he was given. "Here, for expenses." Mercer left the room to gather his things.

[Kolmya]

Other than the occasional bird’s cry, or the omnipresent whistling of the wind in between the rugged peaks, there was no sound. No chatting of travellers. No skittering of squirrels or hares. Only grey rocks, rocks, and more rocks. For countless miles behind Lothar, the mountain range between the Vale and Norravagg resided. Only now did he finally see a color other than gray, which was the green of conifer trees. When he had first seen the green on the horizon, Lothar almost leapt out of glee, which could have proven deadly owing to his location. However the joy was short lived, because after moving up a little further off the trail, he could see that the mountains stretched for a while longer. But the goods news was that he had returned to where trees grew, which meant he was getting closer.

There was nobody up here with him, and he was enjoying the silence. Lothar sat alone, taking a moment to rest upon a rock and take in his situation. His food supplies were dwindling fast, for the journey had taken longer than he had initially anticipated. Lothar had taken a few detours to take in the scenery, forgetting that he only had the 2 weeks worth of provisions that he had bought. Now though, he figured he should get a move on, since the things he was pondering had already happened and wouldn’t change. Lothar rose to his feet, muscles and bones aching from the lack of rest he had received over the course of his trip. Walking along the path, he looked forward to arriving in the Vale
(WIP, will finish in the morning)

[The Intergalactic Russian Empire]

Jarl Alaric Nordskov

Alaric sat aboard the ship, quietly reading a book. He too had changed into mercenary armor for Valdr's cunning plan. Unlike Valdr, Alaric did not trim his hair, feeling that a helmet should help cover his face. He then putt away the book and got up to find Valdr and Anora "I have a bit of a question for you two. If we win this war, what do you plan to do next? Valdr, you will be king, so what shall you do with your power as king? And Anora, you probably won't be allowed back to the Ashen Empire for siding with rebels, so where will you go?"

Thorvald Nordskov, Heir to the Jarldom of Nor
Army of Nor

The snowy plains of northern Norravagg seemed to stretch out forever before Thorvald. The young commander rode at the end of his small army of three thousand, ready and eager for battle. His force was primarily formed of spearmen and men-at-arms, with some bowmen, and supported by a contingent of heavy cavalry which he was riding with. Their banners displayed the symbol of Nor, a white wolf upon a blue background. He has sent a small contingent of troops to scout ahead in order to look out for possible ambushes. Soon they were to meet up with the Ravencloak forces at the pass and continue through to Tarnak.

[Albertae]

Dawnstar

The witch was trapped. So she did the normal thing.

"Silly girl!"

Forming a fireball in her hand, she threw it to Phaerl. But it was a bluff as she burned the wooden floor underneath them. Teomdil on the other hand had recovered. And it was Teomdil no longer.

"ABUS!!!!!!"

Lifting his hand, he sent a gust of wind knocking his trainee on to the floor. He then did the same to the remaining sailors before approaching Aracia.

Abus fell to the ground knocked senseless from his mentors spell.

Aracia had no idea what to do. Was she suppose to hurt him, what!? She took a sense of initiative and decided to continue throwing fireballs at the witch.

Phaerl the Sword
The Dawnstar
The Great Sea

---

Phaerl jumped back as the flames ignited the wood of the floors of the ship, the blaze quickly spreading. The Mayaar tried to find a way to attack the witch but the rapidly rising flames threatened to burn her alive if she got any closer.

"Damnit you're going to burn the whole ship down! Abus get Temodil away from her, and Aracia, take that force-field down, you're only going to burn us faster!"

Phaerl gritted her teeth at the unfairness of it all. That this woman was able to murder this man without consequence... Phaerl wanted to kill her.

Syn said as he started to step away from the fire. "Zap,Zap Zap. Oh how much I love Lighting" He said with a smile as he threw his Dagger at her. Syn then immediately started to Shoot lighting.

"Told ya Zap" He said with a Smile. "Once the Force fields are down the Pirates will be boarding" Syn said to the group. "Before you lot ask me how I know... Just go with it okay cause I ain't crazy I saw em coming to the dawnstar."

Abus got up and Arcia took down the forcefield quickly.

He got up and cast Optical Twin on himself to appear as one of sailors. Dodging in and out casting and taking the spell off which confused Teomdil. Once within ten feet he charged Teomdil knocking him through the deck. Abus laid out across the floor dazed from the charge and fall.

Aracia continued to throw fireballs at the witch and landed one close to her right arm.

[Alinora]

Sunfox Inn | Ravenfield | The Reach

---

"Do you really think we can pull this off?"

Mercer didn't really know how the answer Anjor's question, and looked down into his bottle of mead while gently stirring it in a circle. The two had left the Sanctuary three days after the others, and after a day of constant travel by horseback, decided to stop in the town of Ravenfield; east of Herrath. The Sunfox Inn was a comfortable place filled with both peasants and nobles alike who sang, drank, and enjoyed themselves without a care in the world. Surely it was all in an attempt to drown out the fact that any day now, the Empire would come marching through. Mercer put the bottle to his mouth and took a swig, but did not react to the bitter-sweet honey flavor. He set the bottle down on the table, located within the main hall, and turned to Anjor to answer his question. "I don't think we really have a choice." He began to walk across the room and towards the door of his rented room, but turned just before he entered to call back to his Nord friend.

"You should get some sleep as well. Our next stop isn't until Atlas." With that, he closed the door, and would proceed to try and get as much sleep as he could before the journey would continue.

[Zanera]

Kharden Axeheaver, Hulmir, and Ginli
Onyx, Valyaria
Kingdom of Valyaria

---

The dwarves stood before the gate, before it would totally consume their view. The dark towers aside the gates stood tall, though were dwarfed by the immense ash-spewing volcano rising above the city. The city, built into the side of the volcano, was still minuscule in scale to the grander volcano, even when one stood at the gate to Onyx. The massive thing rose and rose and rose, the sides slanting up until it reached an opening, where forth from it came molten lava, deadly rocks, and black ash that blocked out the sun. From some points in the side, lava eked out, two such flows creating the two mighty rivers of lava that flowed through the city of Onyx, and which flowed out of it from under the walls. The lava did not light up the air, instead, it merely gave it a reddish, Dreadish glow amongst the drifting and diving ash. Soon, however, the dwarves were ushered in by the force of the ongoers, going in and out of the city at a constant rate.

Soon, they were passing under the massive, basalt gate, with it's heavy iron alloy portcullis and its guards. The gate was impressive, a large and sturdy gate, with signs of battle etched upon its iron rungs and giant basalt bricks. The two towers accompanying the gate along the wall showed off a staple in Valyar architecture; roofs made to keep off ash build-up. The thick width of the wall made itself larger around the gate, the gatehouse thicker than the rest of the wall, probably strategic wall-building, with the wall around one of the only openings in the wall thicker to make sure the structure was still strong against catapults and the like. The massive basalt bricks composing the wall looked sturdy, but all across the wall were battlescars, most purely aesthetic, some obviously structural repair, and a few were still undergoing repair. It did not make the wall any less remarkable, instead, it made the dark, looming wall of immense volcanic rock all the more imposing for its scars, with a few visibly very new portions of the wall. It surrounded the greater part of the city, and the devilish glow of the lava threw itself upon portions of the wall, making it seem as if these walls were built by the demons of the Dreadlands themselves. However, the architecture was subtly Valyar, and like many other peoples, showed off their style of architecture whenever possible. It had also seemed like, on the outside of the walls, they were digging a moat of some kind. Whether a sustained water moat would be viable in a hot landscape such as this, none of the dwarves had any idea.

Once passing through the massive gate, the dwarves, the baroness, and Raz'dozi came into the great capital of Valyaria, the city of Onyx. The first thing to attract their attention definitely was a large chapel, a very large chapel, at the end of the long street. It was made of dull stones, not necessarily basalt, but some other unidentifiable rock. It was probably highly familiar to the Valyar of the city, with many, many other buildings being wrought of the same or similar materials. The most striking part of the church was the tall, thick tower that stood right above the staired entrance. The doors were made of corrugated iron, and seemed heavy. At the moment, they stood ajar and people, Valyar, were passing freely into and out of the chapel. Above the door, in the wall just before the tower exceeded the roof, was a great circular stained glass window, with cast iron holding together the pieces, or some other type of iron. In it was a dark picture of the volcano, with unique usage of the stained glass. It was belching ash, as always, however, above all the ash was some kind of red-orange bird. At the distance they were at, it was hard to see, and the flakes of ash falling down here and there overall didn't help their view. However, it seemed like they were making their way closer to it as they walked forward. They took their eyes off the chapel for a moment for a moment and gazed at the building visible before them on either side of the street.

Most were shops with home apartments built over them. The bricks were dark like that of the church, and hollowed stone torches lit much of the street and shops. The roofs were highly angled, and its shingles looked somewhat of layers of shale. Of course, there was little ash on the roofs, and at the lower edge of the roofs, the shale shingles just stopped, creating large drifts of ash, which the dwarves saw getting swept up into great piles. Ginli asked Raz'dozi what they did to it. He said that they put the ash into the torches, when they got dim, and then with a special tool only a Valyar could handle, they'd put some lava into the ash. There was no other way to ignite the ash as easily as that, because ash only burned when it was really, really hot. Of course, they had to use hollowed stone for the process, because wood would definitely not survive more than one process, plus wood was kind of rare here. Some of the streets, Raz'dozi said, were always lit by torches for foreign travelers and merchants that can actually make it to Onyx.

Just then, there was a deep rumbling sound, and then a small explosion from the top of the volcano. The dwarves could see a large plume of ash exit the volcano with a high velocity, and the as was soon sent drifting high in the air. Raz'dozi said there was nothing to fear. It was rare that large, hot rocks from the volcano came and hit the city. Heavier ash was more likely to survive the softer updrafts and come down. When a down draft formed over the city, the ash fell like rain. When the downdraft was more forceful, only the youthful could come out in the ashfall. When the downdraft turned into an updraft again, there was much cleaning to do, and most of the ash would just get dumped into one of the lava rivers that ran through the city, though some tried to harvest it for whatever minerals they could possibly find in it. The rest was reserved for torch lighting.

One smell that was caught in wisps in the air was the smell of rotten eggs. It wafted by sometimes, and other times it seemed they had walked right into a large cloud of it. Apparently, it was sulfur that came from various holes in the volcano, and sulfur was a common gas, and there was even a pond of sulfur somewhere in the city. A lot of wizards went there to collect some sulfur for their alchemy experiments, and that pond of sulfur was some of the best sulfur in Eroris. There were many other smells, and sometimes there was a sudden wave of heat the dwarves felt they would have to actively withstand for several seconds. All of this they had learned from Raz'dozi and felt for themselves before they had even reached the marketplace and the chapel at the end of the long main street. When they had reached the marketplace the dwarves came to a stop and looked at the scene in the stained glass window. It was a fiery orange bird, its wings of fire and giving off some sort of halo effect above the very volcano they stood on now, the volcano looking as if it was made of shards of obsidian. Raz'dozi told them it was the phoenix, and how sometimes it would emerge from this volcano. It was rare though, and when Kharden asked what was the usual occasion for its arrival, Raz'dozi did not know, but it was generally when the volcano began to act up. If it depended on any kind of event, Raz'dozi wasn't much of a historian in that way, and the baroness was silent about it. She seemed to be off buying Valyar food, and the dwarves noticed she had visited a foreign food stall she came back and they were given a sack of various fruits and vegetables. They expressed their gratitude and each extracted an apple to chomp on on their way through the city to wherever they were going. However, with the sulfur lingering about in the air, the apples were soon inedible. The baroness sighed and said to wait until they had gotten back to her home to try eating them.

The dwarves found themselves jumping at an older child running suddenly from an alley with some weird animal in their arms. Raz'dozi told them it was just a pet animal, and that if some Valyar children could cuddle them, then some strong hefty dwarven warriors could deal with them. Probably. It seemed surprise attacks were highly effective. They could only see it for a split second, however, it was a large worm reptilian or something along those lines. They asked Raz'dozi for further information, but he said they were common enough that they'd see one again.

The dwarves, walking along the streets, unable to see much besides dull, consistent architecture, soon found themselves at a bridge across one of the two rivers of lava running through the city. They were able to see a little of the skyline of the city from their point of view. That meant they did not see much of the skyline, even if they were taller, they still would not see much. They could see a few taller and larger buildings in the distance, however, and a few tall spires of natural, craggy rock. The thicker of these spires was built upon with guardhouses and look-out towers, with large, open fires lit on the very top of them. The towers were built with basalt and had many archer windows in random places in the tower. Just below the large bowl of fire was an open observation floor, and there were a couple guards posted there.

Other than that, the river of molten metal they were standing before was a sight to see in and of itself. It was going faster than one never thought one would see lava going, but its rate was still slower than any river of waters'. There was steps leading down to the side of the river, where to the astonishment of the dwarves, was a dock area of stone, similar to the riverside in the outer part of the city of Mol Darihm in Mirfuhn, except that the stones here, instead of being light grey, were utterly black and scorched. By the dock, more by metal chains, was boats of stone, which were small, flat at the bottom, and which was actually floating in the lava. The baroness explained that these boats were made with either granite or, more expensively, quartz on the bottom, strictly for heat-resistance. Sealed in between the quartz/granite layer and another layer of stone was a layer of pumice, which helped keep the boat lightweight. It was porous, but because it was so porous, the lava would easily sink into those pores and cause the boat to be pushed along with the current, with the boat-Onyaar being unable to fight the current of lava with his or her strength effectively. It would also be beneficial to make sure the occupants weren't just in some giant pan. On the top layer of the boat was another, thin layer of stone, magically resistant to heat to an extent. The sides of the boat were thinner than the bottom part of the hull, making sure there wasn't unnecessary weight. The Onyaar could take the heat of the lava as long as it wasn't conducted effectively through the boat, and weren't touching the actual lava for for more than several seconds.

The dwarves could only look down at the baroness and Raz'dozi as they made their way down the steps. The baroness said all they had to do was cross the bridge and head uphill up the street. The house of the baroness was layered with a facade of reddish granite, and that it could be reached either by the street or via the lava river. As the baroness wanted to sit down, she decided she'd pay the hefty sum to take the boat and just let the dwarves walk for a little more. As a matter of fact, as they watched the boat sweep away from its dock, then began their walk across the bridge, they could spot her large house down the river, before there was a bend. They walked, above the lava and able to withstand the heat enough to walk across the center of the bridge. They couldn't go to the edge of the bridge and look down, lest they suffer burns. The heat would be too unbearable at the edge for them to even think about making their way to it. Luckily, this bridge was one of the wider ones, and they could withstand it as long as they walked in the center portion of the bridge. They walked up the black cobblestone streets and found the large house.

The lava river behind it cast a red glowing edge around the entire thing. The granite facade itself was reddish as-is, but it also seemed that the granite itself was working as one to cast its very own glow. Other such houses on the street relied heavily on the dark colors of sturdy volcanic rock and suffered an abjectly menacing glow. This house gave off a sense of severe warmth. It's architecture was different from the other Valyar architecture of the city, as in it didn't look like the house in and of itself wanted to utterly destroy you. The house of the baroness felt relatively warm and inviting, but the effect wore off soon enough. When the effect had finally worn off, as much as such effect can wear off in such an irrevocably new and different landscape, the dwarves entered.

Upon entering a servant came up to them and told them that dinner was being readied, and the the Khurdar would need to clean themselves up before then. There would be some of their type of food, though some Valyar food was still edible to the dwarves, and the servant suggested that at dinnertime they may try a couple bites of such food. A few servants then came up to the dwarves and after some explaining the dwarves finally told the servants that acquisition if their weapons would not take place until there was some more trust. The servant they had spoken to first had the other servants sent off, and the servant, who's name was Draz'na'Lon, led them to where they could clean themselves up. A servant would try to secure some acceptable articles of clothing for them, apparently, as the clothes they had on was obviously dirty, but apparently unacceptable even if cleaned. The dwarves asked if their armor could get cleaned and buffed here, and indeed they did have such faculties here. They continued onward into the cleansing room, and while they were cleansing themselves, they saw a servant sneak in and lay out some clothes for them.

Putting on the dark-colored garments, they made their way to the dining hall. There they saw the baroness sitting at the head of a long table full of food. There they must have been the guests of intrigue, for there was a few other Onyaar of high status seated at the table, beginning their meal and chatting on about random things in their own language. When the dwarves sat down, and after they had finished their heavy eating and were mostly just on to trying the aforesaid edible Valyar food, the aristocratic Onyaar decided to strike up a conversation with the three dwarves. When the topic changed to the reason why the dwarves came to Onyx, the conversation went to, as known in polite society, as a impolite conversation about war with the Akounate and politics in Valyaria, relating to the selection of the new king. They were very hush-hush in general conversation amongst Valyarian nobility apparently. The dwarves were ready to talk strategy and their general goals for the group and for Mirfuhn as a whole but the Baroness was giving them many signals to cut themselves off, and the general conversation died down noticeably, with the Onyaar foreseeing how the conversation would go, and thus seeking an opening for new conversation.While the Onyaar of the banquet went to speaking in their own tongues, the Khurdar went on to try the new vegetables, to their relative distaste.

[Alinora]

Atlas | Imperial Reach

---

Mercer was home, and he hated it. As he walked through the streets of Atlas, the city that betrayed the rest of the Reach during the last war, he had only bad memories. His parents were murdered here, Ms. Diana died here, it was on these streets that he was forced to reduce himself to a petty thief, and it was this city that sentenced him to years of enslavement in the mines. It was here that he returned and became a professional criminal - stealing, threatening, and murdering. It was here they he pulled off his biggest ever heist, and where all of his closest friends were slaughtered as a result. When he left Atlas as a 20 year old man to create a new life in the Vale, he never expected he'd be back fighting a war in the Imperial Legion. He only wished the city had been destroyed - he hated everything about it. Though, he bit back the pain and anger as he and Anjor walked past a column of Legion soldiers who commonly paraded through as a sign of strength. The Imperial banner hung from most buildings, and the weight of their rule could be felt just from the atmosphere... he could smell the fear on many citizens. The two men made a right into a narrow street, and Mercer turned to Anjor. "Let's be quick. I don't want to be here any longer than we need to."

Anjor nodded. "Whose this contact you were talking about? Can we trust him?"

"Yes, we can." Mercer answered. "He's an old friend of mine - once a member of the Guild before the Count hunted us to near-extinction. He's one of the few members who weren't either slaughtered or left the city. Most likely been in hiding the past ten years, so finding him won't be so easy."

"And what do you plan to do once we've found him?" Anjor asked.

"Talk to him - convince him to come with us to Yherion."

Anjor's tone became concerned. "Are you sure that's a good idea? This is a very high-risk contract, we can't have untrained people running about."

"He's a great thief - was one of our best. I trust him."

"He can be the best thief, but that doesn't make him one of us."

"The two go hand-in-hand" argued Mercer. "Where do you think I got the skill to do what I do? From thieves - this thief, in particular." Mercer slid out of the way of an old lady pushing a cart of meat and continued to walk foreword. By this point, they had entered the slums of Atlas, where most of the petty criminals were located. These streets were where Mercer first started picking pockets and a a lot of times even mugging people with a dagger. It was the slimiest, most disgusting part of the city - save the sewers that ran underneath. "Watch your pockets and don't let anybody get less than three feet from you." he warned Anjor. "Don't stop to help anybody, either. Stop to help an old lady and next thing you know you have no gold and your pants are at your ankles." Mercer knew that Anjor was no coward, and he was skilled in many areas, but he was a Nord and did not grow up the same way. Anjor used to tell stories about how people never stole, and if they wanted things, they'd fight for it. Mercer didn't understand Nords in that regard, and while it may seem hypocritical from someone in his line of work, not every problem can be solved by bashing in someone's skull. A few more minutes passed of the two walking through the slums before Anjor looked over to Mercer again.

"Where exactly are we going?"

"The Green Barrel - a bar that the Guild owned but never really did anything with." Mercer answered. "When the city began to crack down on us after the heist, most of the Guild-controlled businesses were shut down and their owners jailed. When I left, this was one of the last remaining ones, so I figure it'd be the best place to start."

"You never have told me about this 'big heist', Mercer. What was it?"

Mercer shook his head and spoke in a more hushed tone. "Maybe some other time, but not out here. It's been over a decade, but there's probably still a price on my head and I'm sure the Count would be happy to lock up someone who was involved." Mercer pointed up at a green sign that said "Green Barrel", and quickly opened the door. The two men proceeded into the small bar that was packed with the lowest level of scum in the city. Half of them didn't even have shoes on their feet, and most were paying with money they probably stole right before walking in. Most, if not all, were Reachman, for the people in this area didn't take kindly to other races - especially not Elves. Many eyes were locked onto Mercer and his Nordic companion, and many whispered derogatory comments under their breath. The two ignored it, however, and approached the bartender - a Reachman with a horribly burnt face - and leaned against the counter. "I'll take a mead" he said.

"Same for me." Anjor added, but the bartender chuckled and went about grabbing a mead. He slid it across the counter to Mercer, but seemed to completely ignore Anjor. "Where's my drink?" he said in a frustrated tone.

"We don't serve your kind here" the bartender snickered. "Just be grateful you're even allowed in here. If your companion here wasn't a Reachman, you'll probably be a bloody corpse in an ally by now." Anjor went to grab the bartender, but Mercer held his hand out to stop him.

"Why don't you wait outside, Anjor." he said, trying to calm the situation.

Anjor, obviously angry, lowered his fist and nodded, but his eyes were keenly focused on the bartender. As he walked towards the door, he turned back and slid his finger across his neck, then exited the bar. Mercer took a seat at the stool and crossed his arms on the counter, then looked up at the bartender. "I'm looking for information." he said outright, knowing that a bartender in these areas would both know lots of things and be able to keep his mouth shut about them. It was an unspoken rule in the slums that no matter what, you don't snitch, but often times people could be... persuaded to share information with others.The bartender, who was cleaning cups with a rag, did not look up to meet Mercer's eyes.

"You're in luck, because I have plenty. What do you want to know, Mercer?"

Mercer raised an eyebrow. "How do you know who I am?" he asked.

The bartender chuckled. "Most of the people around here know who you are, friend. The man who robbed the Count and got away with it, don't you remember? People around here respect you, believe it or not. Mainly for giving the Count the finger, but also for not getting killed like most of your friends in the Guild." Mercer looked back to see many of the bar's customers looking at him and whispering amongst themselves, but quickly returned to facing the bartender.

"That's actually what I'm here to ask about" he said. "I'm trying to locate an old friend of mine from the Guild. I know he's here in Atlas, I just don't know where."

"And his name?" the bartender asked.

"Bjorn Anorus."

The bartender let out a short chuckle, placing the dried cup on a rack and starting to dry another. "Yeah, I may know something about him. Though, my memory seems to be a little foggy right now..." Mercer bit his lip in annoyance. He reached into his pack and pulled out a pouch of coins and set in on the table. The bartender smiled and grabbed the pouch of the counter. "Now that I think of it, I do know something about your friend. I don't know where he is, but I know somebody that does." The bartender leaned across the counter and whispered into Mercer's ear. "Festus Antonio" he said, then pulled away and continued to dry glasses. "He lives above the Lowland Inn down at the docks. He'll be able to point you in the direction of your friend." Mercer nodded and got off the stool, leaving his unopened mead at the counter, and left the bar. Anjor caught up as he quickly walked down the street.

"Where to, Sentinel?" he asked.

"Festus Antonio" Mercer answered.

[Everhall]

The Stone Road
The Reach
The Ashen Empire

---

A Reachmen clad in the finest of Imperial armor rode next to the count on a Black Charger. In his hands laid his closed helment of alloy. The man had short black hair and looked like he was in his mid forties. This Reachman, the General Garth Durrendon, breathed a sigh of relief as they came over a elevation of rode to reveal the green and gold plains of the Reach including the small hill that the city of Atlas laid upon,

"I believe we have finally crossed into the Reach Count Ear- or rather King Earwulf."

Garth inspected Earwulf's face of angst he was clearly still thinking about that Varian girl,

"Are you still thinking about that Varian girl eh? Forget about that pompous bitch and live life! There are plenty of beauties out in the Reach for you have as your queen Earwulf. If you can't, just take all that anger out on that bastard Cedric Gardener."

---

Phaerl the Sword
The Dawnstar
The Great Sea

---

"Aracia, you know very well that won't work. Stop!" Phaerl turned to the scantily clad witch and with a growl said,

"What have you done to Temodil bitch? You know that even if you kil, all of us you will still go down with this ship that you so brilliantly set on fire."

---

Anora Varian
The Lightning Sea

---

Anora sighed, she hadn't made a plan in this whole Norravägg venture,

"I'll probrably stay up in the North after the war. After all it repelled the Akounate the last time, who says when the war starts up again that they can't do it again? May start a family up there, grow old and master magic..."

[Kingdom of Irhk]

Sven Lindholm

And so, the Bear continued to ride, no rest until he reached his destination. Every person that he passed through stared at him like he was some ghost from the Nordic legends, especially when they noticed his wolf.

And finally, the armored warrior reached the armies of the Rebellion. He jumped out of his horse, his wolf in front of him, as he approached one of the soldiers.

"I want to see your commander. And my name doesn't matter, before you ask."

[Kuhlfros]

Jarl Alaric Nordskov

Alaric sat aboard the ship, quietly reading a book. He too had changed into mercenary armor for Valdr's cunning plan. Unlike Valdr, Alaric did not trim his hair, feeling that a helmet should help cover his face. He then putt away the book and got up to find Valdr and Anora "I have a bit of a question for you two. If we win this war, what do you plan to do next? Valdr, you will be king, so what shall you do with your power as king? And Anora, you probably won't be allowed back to the Ashen Empire for siding with rebels, so where will you go?"

Thorvald Nordskov, Heir to the Jarldom of Nor
Army of Nor

The snowy plains of northern Norravagg seemed to stretch out forever before Thorvald. The young commander rode at the end of his small army of three thousand, ready and eager for battle. His force was primarily formed of spearmen and men-at-arms, with some bowmen, and supported by a contingent of heavy cavalry which he was riding with. Their banners displayed the symbol of Nor, a white wolf upon a blue background. He has sent a small contingent of troops to scout ahead in order to look out for possible ambushes. Soon they were to meet up with the Ravencloak forces at the pass and continue through to Tarnak.

Jarl Valdr "Raven-Eyes" Hrafn
Valdr nodded sagely and responded
"Much is to be done once Noravagg is free, this war will deprive us of manpower and wealth, both of which is important to a realm, there will be little time to celebrate as the Ashen legions remain to our south and we must hold against them but also find new wealth to restrengthen the realm."

He drew his knife and began carving a one in the wood. "For everything to work out, I need the Reach, they would support our freedom and have a wealth of food they may be willing to share. To begin with, taking Tarnak will be the only access between the Reach and us, they would have to sail their goods around, but how long will that last with the Empire planning to invade them...we will give them that information."

He drew a second line, making a two "After that, Wolfhelm and Orrin's Wall must be taken before advancing on Aleried. After the war is over, we gave the Reach food and will start to offer volunteer forces and mercenary bands to the Reach to combat the Legions while at home we ensure our walls and forts are secure."

He sighed, "What I wish to do is resettle the many keeps and abandoned towns in Noravagg, repopulate and bring about greater prosperity to the home of Mankind. However there is one thing that may prove quite important to increase our production and wealth and population and strength in general...something we have severely lacked for ages, a thing hardly ever seen in the North...."

He turned to Anora and smiled, "Mages...Lady Anora, you wish to master magic...but once you do, do you have any desire to spread your knowledge and mastery? Might I remind you that regardless of yes or no you will be welcome and live very comfortably in my court."

Kenna the Wanderer
Old Stones, Noravagg

Kenna and his acolytes had traveled far, our of the Kingswood and over the Nor river, Kenna and his thirty wanderers arrived in a settlement sworn to the home of a rebellious Jarl. To the people of Old Stones it was no doubt a sight to see 30 travelers riding upon an assortment of beasts led by a cloaked person on the largest elk they had ever seen.

The person arrived in the center of town and croaked and rattled in a hollow voice that seemed to drift with the wind so all in the settlement heard. "Nords, my name is Kenna, and with me are my students, I am a teacher and I have arrived here to bring my knowledge to you, some of my students are destined to live here among you and learn their art, some of you are destined to travel with me. I bring the old Magic of Runes back to Noravagg, allow me to show you so you know I am no charltan."

Kenna drew a rune in the air and before him a great oak tree burst from the ground and reached a height taller than many buildings in the town, then the tree's bark turned white and it's leaves red. Three of his acolytes stepped forward and raised runes in the air and clasped the hand around them, their hands glowed and their knees buckled and they fell to their knees as before them a reflecting pool of water appeared from no where in front of the tree.

"Let me teach you, make your home greater and safer and return Noravagg to days of greater strength."

[Pillowlandia]

Eahfrid Egric Ealdhere
Stoneground Barony
Ashen Empire

---

The trip had taken much longer than he had actually anticipated. From waiting for Ribald to heal, to actually finding affordable yet quality equipment for the forces he intended to raise. Now though, with material being delivered discreetly, and newly hired blacksmiths from the capital he was ready to begin what would pretty clearly be treason. At least he was committing treason against a tyrant. That had to count for something?

In any case he now rode down the road towards his small possession in this world, Stoneground. Along with him was Ribald and several of the hired smiths. Yet even as he began to dismount inside the city Hothere was already rushing him before enveloping him in an aggressive hug. "Greetings friend, how does the matters of the land go in my absence?"

"We're still grieving at the loss of your parents Eahfrid. But anger is bubbling below it all, anyone can feel it. Did you succeed in finding the assassin?"

At that Eahfrid bit his lip, "No, other things become more pressing..." He paused, looking down at his boots for a moment, as he fought to maintain his composure. "In any case I've secured the materials and people we will need to support a militia. Now it's time to find some willing men to fight against the Tyranny of the count." As he mentioned the count, his face hardened, and his neutral mask of a face returned.

[Cuprum]

Hōjō clan

By the Statute of Ugurid, the Realm of the Dwarves was incorporated into the Akounate and was given an administrative system like the Akounteen, with provinnces ruled by Daimyos. The Akounate's law was introduced in criminal cases, though the Dwarves were allowed to maintain their own customary laws in some cases of property disputes. The lords of the realm embarked on a full-scale project of Akounteen settlement of The Crag and other regions, to rebuild the ten castles the Akounteen burned during the invasion. Their new residents were Akounteen migrants, with the local Dwarves banned from living inside them, and many were protected by extensive walls.

An extensive project of castle-building was also initiated, under the direction of Master Hokusai, a prestigious architect whom Hojo had met in the Devil Pass on his return from the War. These included the castles of Beaumaris, Caernarfon, Conwy and Harlech, intended to act both as fortresses and royal palaces for the Viceroy. His programme of castle building in the Dwarves soil heralded the introduction of the widespread use of arrowslits in castle walls across the continent, drawing on Southern influences. The castles made a clear, imperial statement about the Akounate's intentions to rule the Dwarves permanently, and drew on imagery associated with the Empire and the Empress in an attempt to build legitimacy for his new regime.

As they arrive and assemble in the morning they don’t just greet each other with a glib “hello”. Everyone seems to greet each other with a firm handshake or a peck on the cheek. And they depart in the same manner at the end of the day. And they routinely share beers or bottles of wine on site after changing out of their dusty work clothes before going home. But then again, this project wouldn’t work unless the workforce had a close bond of mutual respect, because they are totally reliant upon each other to get anything done.

Cutting stone blunts the masons’ tools so relentlessly that, unless they are sharpened by the blacksmiths every three days, all work at the castle will come to a standstill to hard the metal. If a door needs making the carpenters prepare it, but they need the blacksmiths to forge nails, brackets and hinges. But all their work will be in vain if the masons have not measured out the hinge slots and the doorway itself accurately. If anything goes awry with the stonework, the door won’t fit. The stonemasons depend on the carpenters to provide all their scaffolding, the treadmills that hoist stones to the tops of walls, even the buckets they need mix their mortar. And templates for the complex geometry involved in cutting stone accurately are all made of wood.

The carpenters, in turn, rely on the wood-cutters who go out into the abundant forests surrounding the castle to chop down trees when timber is required. And everybody relies upon the unsung rope-makers who produce the many miles of rope needed weekly to bind and hoist loads – whether they be stone, wood or metal. Ropes were also twisted into thick braids and used to protect stones while they were being dressed.

The rope maker supplies the site with hemp and flax ropes, of varying lengths and thicknesses. To make a rope, yarns are fixed to the hooks on a jack, and, at the other end of the ropewalk, to a wooden traveller. The rope maker then cranks the jack’s handle: he thus produces four strands, one per hook. As the yarns twist into strands, they pull the traveller towards the jack.

Finally, the rope maker splices the rope. The workforce here also make their own paint, mortar, pots. Having recently built a water-mill they are now milling their own flour so that they have something to cook in the newly-completed kitchen of the castle’s Grand Hall. Talk about keeping it real… They work with the ethos that the surest way of re-discovering lost techniques and methods to by discovering first hand what works and what does not. Academics flock to the castle to see their theories tried out and put into practice.

Above all, building a castle requires the skill and co-operation of a workforce functioning together as a community.

[Relikai]

Shimazaki Haruna

The warrior maiden ignored the state in which the newcomer arrived, turning to give him an irritated glare at being late rather than being half naked. Haruna hasn't had much problem seeing males walking around, her limit often at them being in their underwear which would have her turning the other way, refusing to look until they were dressed.

"A simple mission. Head north and negotiate with the orcs. We aren't going there for a fight, but if they want one, they'll get one." She said curtly, arms folded as she brushed her hair to the side. "I have no other questions milord. If you need us to get moving immediately, I am ready, although I wonder about the 'companion' who you assigned to me..."

[Shadowwell]

(Image)
Hōjō clan

By the Statute of Ugurid, the Realm of the Dwarves was incorporated into the Akounate and was given an administrative system like the Akounteen, with provinnces ruled by Daimyos. The Akounate's law was introduced in criminal cases, though the Dwarves were allowed to maintain their own customary laws in some cases of property disputes. The lords of the realm embarked on a full-scale project of Akounteen settlement of The Crag and other regions, to rebuild the ten castles the Akounteen burned during the invasion. Their new residents were Akounteen migrants, with the local Dwarves banned from living inside them, and many were protected by extensive walls.

An extensive project of castle-building was also initiated, under the direction of Master Hokusai, a prestigious architect whom Hojo had met in the Devil Pass on his return from the War. These included the castles of Beaumaris, Caernarfon, Conwy and Harlech, intended to act both as fortresses and royal palaces for the Viceroy. His programme of castle building in the Dwarves soil heralded the introduction of the widespread use of arrowslits in castle walls across the continent, drawing on Southern influences. The castles made a clear, imperial statement about the Akounate's intentions to rule the Dwarves permanently, and drew on imagery associated with the Empire and the Empress in an attempt to build legitimacy for his new regime.

As they arrive and assemble in the morning they don’t just greet each other with a glib “hello”. Everyone seems to greet each other with a firm handshake or a peck on the cheek. And they depart in the same manner at the end of the day. And they routinely share beers or bottles of wine on site after changing out of their dusty work clothes before going home. But then again, this project wouldn’t work unless the workforce had a close bond of mutual respect, because they are totally reliant upon each other to get anything done.

Cutting stone blunts the masons’ tools so relentlessly that, unless they are sharpened by the blacksmiths every three days, all work at the castle will come to a standstill to hard the metal. If a door needs making the carpenters prepare it, but they need the blacksmiths to forge nails, brackets and hinges. But all their work will be in vain if the masons have not measured out the hinge slots and the doorway itself accurately. If anything goes awry with the stonework, the door won’t fit. The stonemasons depend on the carpenters to provide all their scaffolding, the treadmills that hoist stones to the tops of walls, even the buckets they need mix their mortar. And templates for the complex geometry involved in cutting stone accurately are all made of wood.

The carpenters, in turn, rely on the wood-cutters who go out into the abundant forests surrounding the castle to chop down trees when timber is required. And everybody relies upon the unsung rope-makers who produce the many miles of rope needed weekly to bind and hoist loads – whether they be stone, wood or metal. Ropes were also twisted into thick braids and used to protect stones while they were being dressed.

The rope maker supplies the site with hemp and flax ropes, of varying lengths and thicknesses. To make a rope, yarns are fixed to the hooks on a jack, and, at the other end of the ropewalk, to a wooden traveller. The rope maker then cranks the jack’s handle: he thus produces four strands, one per hook. As the yarns twist into strands, they pull the traveller towards the jack.

Finally, the rope maker splices the rope. The workforce here also make their own paint, mortar, pots. Having recently built a water-mill they are now milling their own flour so that they have something to cook in the newly-completed kitchen of the castle’s Grand Hall. Talk about keeping it real… They work with the ethos that the surest way of re-discovering lost techniques and methods to by discovering first hand what works and what does not. Academics flock to the castle to see their theories tried out and put into practice.

Above all, building a castle requires the skill and co-operation of a workforce functioning together as a community.

The Crag was never colonized again for a good reason as the Hojo would find to their peril. On a newly made scaffold, one of the stone workers cut at the stone and a strange thing happened. The rock crumbled away, not like eroded stone, but more like soil that was compacted and compresses for an untold amount of time. The area beneath and behind, the crumbled stone revealed a dark tunnel like corridor. If one payed close attention, they would hear noises, Scuttling, like that of insects, but these noises were too loud to belong to any mere bug.
"Screee"

A loud cry was heard, that seemed to come from within the stone and soil itself. All along the quarry, areas of seemingly hard stone began to crumble, and the screeching became louder. Soon out of the tunnel came insect like beings. However they were nor mere insects, they were Nah'ni, and this Was their HIve. The first Nahni to come out were the Soldiers, and there were many. After they came out the stone started shaking, and a harsh screech was heard, Forcing its way out of the Stone, came an Overseer, they were old massive beings, that are second in power only to the Queen of each Hive. The First Hive had thousands of them, here their was only one, perhaps the Hojo could survive. Soon after the Overseer emerged, the Nahni started scuttling and flying towards the Hojo.

[Cuprum]

(Image)
Hōjō clan

By the Statute of Ugurid, the Realm of the Dwarves was incorporated into the Akounate and was given an administrative system like the Akounteen, with provinnces ruled by Daimyos. The Akounate's law was introduced in criminal cases, though the Dwarves were allowed to maintain their own customary laws in some cases of property disputes. The lords of the realm embarked on a full-scale project of Akounteen settlement of The Crag and other regions, to rebuild the ten castles the Akounteen burned during the invasion. Their new residents were Akounteen migrants, with the local Dwarves banned from living inside them, and many were protected by extensive walls.

An extensive project of castle-building was also initiated, under the direction of Master Hokusai, a prestigious architect whom Hojo had met in the Devil Pass on his return from the War. These included the castles of Beaumaris, Caernarfon, Conwy and Harlech, intended to act both as fortresses and royal palaces for the Viceroy. His programme of castle building in the Dwarves soil heralded the introduction of the widespread use of arrowslits in castle walls across the continent, drawing on Southern influences. The castles made a clear, imperial statement about the Akounate's intentions to rule the Dwarves permanently, and drew on imagery associated with the Empire and the Empress in an attempt to build legitimacy for his new regime.

As they arrive and assemble in the morning they don’t just greet each other with a glib “hello”. Everyone seems to greet each other with a firm handshake or a peck on the cheek. And they depart in the same manner at the end of the day. And they routinely share beers or bottles of wine on site after changing out of their dusty work clothes before going home. But then again, this project wouldn’t work unless the workforce had a close bond of mutual respect, because they are totally reliant upon each other to get anything done.

Cutting stone blunts the masons’ tools so relentlessly that, unless they are sharpened by the blacksmiths every three days, all work at the castle will come to a standstill to hard the metal. If a door needs making the carpenters prepare it, but they need the blacksmiths to forge nails, brackets and hinges. But all their work will be in vain if the masons have not measured out the hinge slots and the doorway itself accurately. If anything goes awry with the stonework, the door won’t fit. The stonemasons depend on the carpenters to provide all their scaffolding, the treadmills that hoist stones to the tops of walls, even the buckets they need mix their mortar. And templates for the complex geometry involved in cutting stone accurately are all made of wood.

The carpenters, in turn, rely on the wood-cutters who go out into the abundant forests surrounding the castle to chop down trees when timber is required. And everybody relies upon the unsung rope-makers who produce the many miles of rope needed weekly to bind and hoist loads – whether they be stone, wood or metal. Ropes were also twisted into thick braids and used to protect stones while they were being dressed.

The rope maker supplies the site with hemp and flax ropes, of varying lengths and thicknesses. To make a rope, yarns are fixed to the hooks on a jack, and, at the other end of the ropewalk, to a wooden traveller. The rope maker then cranks the jack’s handle: he thus produces four strands, one per hook. As the yarns twist into strands, they pull the traveller towards the jack.

Finally, the rope maker splices the rope. The workforce here also make their own paint, mortar, pots. Having recently built a water-mill they are now milling their own flour so that they have something to cook in the newly-completed kitchen of the castle’s Grand Hall. Talk about keeping it real… They work with the ethos that the surest way of re-discovering lost techniques and methods to by discovering first hand what works and what does not. Academics flock to the castle to see their theories tried out and put into practice.

Above all, building a castle requires the skill and co-operation of a workforce functioning together as a community.

The Crag was never colonized again for a good reason as the Hojo would find to their peril. On a newly made scaffold, one of the stone workers cut at the stone and a strange thing happened. The rock crumbled away, not like eroded stone, but more like soil that was compacted and compresses for an untold amount of time. The area beneath and behind, the crumbled stone revealed a dark tunnel like corridor. If one payed close attention, they would hear noises, Scuttling, like that of insects, but these noises were too loud to belong to any mere bug.
"Screee"

A loud cry was heard, that seemed to come from within the stone and soil itself. All along the quarry, areas of seemingly hard stone began to crumble, and the screeching became louder. Soon out of the tunnel came insect like beings. However they were nor mere insects, they were Nah'ni, and this Was their HIve. The first Nahni to come out were the Soldiers, and there were many. After they came out the stone started shaking, and a harsh screech was heard, Forcing its way out of the Stone, came an Overseer, they were old massive beings, that are second in power only to the Queen of each Hive. The First Hive had thousands of them, here their was only one, perhaps the Hojo could survive. Soon after the Overseer emerged, the Nahni started scuttling and flying towards the Hojo.

The head of the castle come to his senses and give a speech after the cry: ''I cannot have a man who is afraid of everything, I don't have the time to soothe insecurities and fears, I cannot have a man who is standing on a stone by a creek, watching for the fish to swim by and every time he sees a fish he says "Oh look, this fish scares me, I wonder what this fish means, this fish might mean- this, or this fish might mean- that" for God's sake, they are just fish, and they don't mean anything! Such a sad thing, so many fine, strong men standing on top of little stones, pointing at fish all the time! Such a waste! Such a waste of time! I can only have a man who will leap into the water, not minding the damn fish and whatever other little things that scare him. I need to have someone who is braver than me; if I am a soldier, he has to be the general, if I am a general he has to be the flying dragon. Gentlemen we are better than that, thirty years ago we were a group of melancholics soldiers missing our homeland. Now this land is ours, spread our wings and show the world why we are the lords of the skies and the strongest race. すべては帝国を雹! 万歳！''

This may be my only chance to see bugs before those creatures are turn into fertilizer for the Empress's Sakuras, the ashes of those bugs are an excellent fertilizer containing nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium and other nutrients. It also adds organic matter to the soil which may improve soil structure, aeration, soil moisture-holding capacity, and water infiltration, perfext for agriculture and gardening. May the gods keeps this bugs in the hills and the women in our beds. Oh, mighty fire of my ancestors crush my enemies. After that the veterans of the colony transform into mighty Dragons showing the greatness of their race before discharging a volley of fire balls against the bugs while the Rajs prepared their repeating crossbows and spears.

[Everhall]

-Snip-

Anora Varian

---

"You want me to teach magic? I may be good, but I'm not a teacher." A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, "What you suggest is crazy you know, rebuilding Norravägg... My brother has been in those ruins before and... there is something terrible imbued in their stones."

Anora wondered if he knew, he was a Nord so he should know, about one of the greatest travesties in Nordic history,

"Jarl Valdr, I would like to ask you a question. Do you know about the Wars of the Stormcrown?"

[Alinora]

Atlas | Imperial Reach

---

Atlas was one of the biggest ports in Eroris, which meant that it's docks were some of the busiest. As a child, Mercer was never able to see much of them, but much of his work with the Guild centered around the city's ports. Often times they would steal from the many ships that entered the city, or rob newcomers, but their largest job at the docks was when they snuck onto the personal ship of a High Councilor, cleared his safe, and set it on fire. It was quite amusing, as he recalled. Though, there was no time to relive the past right now - Mercer had more important things to concern himself with. He had to find Bjorn. Mercer first met Bjorn when he was 14 and sent to the mines to work, and he taught Mercer everything there was to know about being a thief. The two were thick as thieves - no pun intended - and it was Bjorn's guidance that practically saved his life. It was Bjorn who welcomed Mercer into the Guild, which would allow him to join with the main group in Atlas when he was released at age 17. A year later, Bjorn and a few other members of the Guild escaped from the mines, and the two friends found themselves working together as free men. They became rich through the Guild, and were prominent in the big heist on Atlas' Treasury, but when the Guild was hunted to near-extinction, they split paths. Mercer left the city for the Vale, but Bjorn stayed, and for years he figured his friend was killed off like most Guild members, but his name has been tossed around recently, and Mercer figured he'd make an attempt to reach out. The bartender at the Green Barrel said that he knew a man who would have Bjorn's location: Festus Antonio. Apparently, he lived above the Lowland Inn at the docks, so that was where Mercer would go.

The sign eventually came into view, and Mercer picked up his speed as he approached. As he stepped inside, he immediately noticed that this place was far nicer than the Green Barrel. Sure, most of the men were sailors and shipworkers with little nobility, but the atmosphere was much different and friendlier. Mercer moved through the crowds and to the bartender, a Nord woman. "What can I get you?" she asked kindly.

"We're not here for dri-"

"I'll have a mead, sweetheart" Anjor interrupted, suddenly flirty with the bartender.

"I need to see Festus Antonio" Mercer said, trying to her pull attention away from Anjor.

"You want to talk to that guy?" she asked, then pointed to the other side of the room. "Stairs are over there-- good luck with that creep."

"Stay here." Mercer ordered Anjor.

"Gladly." he chuckled. Mercer made his way to the other side of the room and began to climb the stairs, which were old and loud. Though when he reached the top, it became elegant. There was a nice welcome area with paintings and a bench, then a locked door which likely led into an apartment. Mercer walked up, looking at the paintings on the wall, and knocked. There was nothing behind it. After a few moments, he knocked again, this time louder, and heard footsteps approach the door. A small rectangle in the door opened, and two eyes were on the other side looking at him.

"Who is it?" he asked coldly. Mercer looked around him and peeked down the stairs to make sure that nobody was around, then whispered.

"Mercer Titus."

The man's eyes widened. "Mercer?" Quickly, he slammed the peekhole shut and the door swung open, revealing a man in expensive clothes with a long beard, and a horribly burnt face. Though, through all of it, Mercer could recognize him. It was Bjorn. When Bjorn got a better look, he cackled and spread his arms. "Mercer, my boy!" With a smile, Mercer came in and gave a manly hug to his old friend, patting him on the back.

"It's good to see you, old man" he said with a laugh.

Bjorn pulled away, and motioned for him. "C'mon, lad." He closed the door behind Mercer and then led him into a kitchen area, pulling out a seat for him and then taking one of his own. "Would you like anything to eat or drink?" he asked.

Mercer shook his head. "No, I'm alright, thanks." There was a pause for a moment before Bjorn continued speaking.

"I have to admit, old friend, I never thought I'd see you again... I'm just so shocked - thought you were dead."

"Dead?" Mercer asked, surprised.

"Guild members were dropping like flies and in the midst of it, you just vanished." he said. "Figured they got you as well. Where did you go? What have you done the past ten years?"

"Well when I left Atlas, I went to the Vale" Mercer answered. "Though the Empire figured it out and threw me into the Legion, so I ended up in the war with the Reach."

"You were in the war, eh lad?" he asked. Mercer nodded, and Bjorn continued to speak. "Gods, I'm so glad you made it out alive boy. There aren't many who can say the same."

"Yeah... we lost a lot of good friends."

"Well, why are you in Atlas? People know who you are, Mercer - it might've been a decade but nobody has forgotten that job or the people who got away with it. If you run into the wrong person, you're dead."

"I know" Mercer said. "I'm not staying - we're headed to Yherion, but I had to stop and see if you were still kicking."

"We?" asked Bjorn. Mercer's eyes fell to the ground, and he shifted his weight in his chair. He didn't know how to explain to Bjorn what had become of him in the last ten years, so he decided to come right out and say it.

"Bjorn, a lot has changed since the days with the Guild." he began. "I'm... I'm with the Black Hand now." Bjorn leaned back in his chair, likely trying to accept the reality that the boy he taught to be a thief had used to knowledge to become a heartless murderer.

"I... don't know what to say." he said. "Gotta do what you gotta do I guess, but... an assassin? It's one thing to kill people who cross you but it's a completely different thing to murder someone you don't even know for reasons you don't understand-"

"Bjorn please" Mercer interrupted. "We're headed to Yherion to complete the first part of a contract, and then we're going too Isnhrion. I came to find you today because, well, I'd like your help."

Bjorn chuckled, but stopped as he realized that Mercer was being serious. He sighed. "Lad, you're asking me to do something that I just can't do. I mean, I've killed my fair share of people, but the kinda things the Black Hand does its just... it's not my kinda work."

"So you'd rather stay here, huh?" Mercer asked, standing up. "You'd rather sit in this apartment with all your stolen money and cry that all of your friends are dead? You'd rather live knowing that any day the Count's goons could kick down that door and kill you? Look at yourself, Bjorn, this city is not your home - it's your burden." Bjorn grunted, then sighed deeply. He stroked his beard, thinking.

"Who are the targets?"

"Alves Varian, Lord Alaro Sealight, and High Councillor Lhoris" Mercer answered. "Then, we move on the final target - the real money maker."

"And that is?"

"The Emperor."

With a look of disbelief, Bjorn sighed. "Well, I suppose now that I know about this, I don't really have a choice." He shook his head then pulled on his nose, contemplating the decision. "Let me gather some of my belongings., then we'll go. If I'm going to die, I'll die with my brother - not in this forsaken apartment alone."

[Shadowwell]

The Crag was never colonized again for a good reason as the Hojo would find to their peril. On a newly made scaffold, one of the stone workers cut at the stone and a strange thing happened. The rock crumbled away, not like eroded stone, but more like soil that was compacted and compresses for an untold amount of time. The area beneath and behind, the crumbled stone revealed a dark tunnel like corridor. If one payed close attention, they would hear noises, Scuttling, like that of insects, but these noises were too loud to belong to any mere bug.
"Screee"

A loud cry was heard, that seemed to come from within the stone and soil itself. All along the quarry, areas of seemingly hard stone began to crumble, and the screeching became louder. Soon out of the tunnel came insect like beings. However they were nor mere insects, they were Nah'ni, and this Was their HIve. The first Nahni to come out were the Soldiers, and there were many. After they came out the stone started shaking, and a harsh screech was heard, Forcing its way out of the Stone, came an Overseer, they were old massive beings, that are second in power only to the Queen of each Hive. The First Hive had thousands of them, here their was only one, perhaps the Hojo could survive. Soon after the Overseer emerged, the Nahni started scuttling and flying towards the Hojo.

The head of the castle come to his senses and give a speech after the cry: ''I cannot have a man who is afraid of everything, I don't have the time to soothe insecurities and fears, I cannot have a man who is standing on a stone by a creek, watching for the fish to swim by and every time he sees a fish he says "Oh look, this fish scares me, I wonder what this fish means, this fish might mean- this, or this fish might mean- that" for God's sake, they are just fish, and they don't mean anything! Such a sad thing, so many fine, strong men standing on top of little stones, pointing at fish all the time! Such a waste! Such a waste of time! I can only have a man who will leap into the water, not minding the damn fish and whatever other little things that scare him. I need to have someone who is braver than me; if I am a soldier, he has to be the general, if I am a general he has to be the flying dragon. Gentlemen we are better than that, thirty years ago we were a group of melancholics soldiers missing our homeland. Now this land is ours, spread our wings and show the world why we are the lords of the skies and the strongest race. すべては帝国を雹! 万歳！''

This may be my only chance to see bugs before those creatures are turn into fertilizer for the Empress's Sakuras, the ashes of those bugs are an excellent fertilizer containing nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium and other nutrients. It also adds organic matter to the soil which may improve soil structure, aeration, soil moisture-holding capacity, and water infiltration, perfext for agriculture and gardening. May the gods keeps this bugs in the hills and the women in our beds. Oh, mighty fire of my ancestors crush my enemies. After that the veterans of the colony transform into mighty Dragons showing the greatness of their race before discharging a volley of fire balls against the bugs while the Rajs prepared their repeating crossbows and spears.

Some of the Soldiers were struck and killed by the fireballs, but many of them dodged, and flew up to engage the dragons in swarms. Some of the others on the ground, used their sharp forearm blades to cut the arrows out of the air. As hundred of the Soldiers engaged the Raj wielding spears, they lashed out with blinding speed, rending both spear, flesh, and armor. All around the Raj were falling and trying to retreat under the Horde of Nahni. A massive screeching Roar could be heard as a Dragon, whose wings had been cleaved through crashed into the ground. Soon enough it was covered by the Horde of Advancing Soldiers, out of the Hive came a new type of Nahni, they were a Variant of the Drones.

Their thick shells repelled spear, arrow, and magic, they rushed out like massive rhinos barreling into the troops of the Hojo. They used their long Forearms to bat away their allies adn stab their Enemies. They trampled the Raj under them, just as the Soldiers cleaved their armor and flesh. While the Dragons were massive and powerful, they were not true dragons. The Overseer still dwarfed them easily, it opened its mouth and a purple acid spewed out, coating the Flying Dragons and eating through their wings and scale. Not even true dragons, would be as rash as the Hojo, they knew the cost facing the Nahni would bring. Meanwhile smaller insects were all fleeing the area and the Hive, they could sense what was coming.

[Alinora]

East of Atlas | Imperial Reach

---

Leaving Atlas was hard for both Mercer and Bjorn, but it was probably for the best. It had caused them both nothing but pain, and had sucked them into a life of theft, murder, and deception. Sometimes Mercer wondered what life would be like if he had been dealt a different hand - if he'd been born somewhere else to someone else - but no matter he hated what had become of his life, he was always forced to accept it. Surely, it could've been worse - Mercer could be dead. The three men rode through the middle of the road together, passing by carriages coming to and from Atlas, and Mercer remembered when this road was filled as far as the eye can see with Imperial soldiers. It was a bloody war despite how short it was, and the fact that Mercer did his best to make it seem like it was nothing. Even for him, it was scarring. It's one thing to kill a man who crosses you and your family but it's a completely different thing to cut down tens of men you don't know for a cause you don't believe in. Sometimes he thinks about the men he killed, not just in the war, and wonders how many widows he made - how many husbands, fathers, and sons he stole. At times they visit him, and mock him - seeping into his very soul to punish him emotionally for what he's done. He tries to resist them but there comes a time where you just can't run anymore... when your feet give out from under you and you're left a broken husk of what you once were. It's a reality that Mercer tries to oppress, but the day will come where he will face judgement from a higher power, and he can only hope that he is able to redeem himself before then.

The three men continued to ride towards the Vale.

[Kolmya]

Trudging in silence over the rock-laden path, Lothar wished that he could be out of the mountains already, along with having a warm meal in his stomach, sitting by a fireplace. Up on the sides of the mountain, the wind blew relentlessly, and even his warm fur cloak couldn’t keep all of him warm. Lothar, or anyone (except for the carefulest person) for that matter couldn’t go through the narrow valleys below. Dangerous scree lined the bottoms and sides of the mountains and valleys other than the narrow trail higher up. However, Lothar had his hopes higher than he had the past couple days, for he had seen some green in the distance yesterday. The green was the tell tale sign that he was leaving the border region and entering The Vale proper. The path now descended in front of him, also taking an abrupt left and then switchbacked down to the base of the mountain, all the way down into the very closed in bowl shaped valley. About 500 meters to his left was the other mountain, so this was not a very big valley. This area had green grass growing sparsely around the many rocks in at the bottom of the valley.

The mountain range continued on into The Vale of course, but Instead of the claustrophobic border region where the mountains were tall and huddled together, the mountains in The Vale grew less frequent aand shorter as you got closer to the coast, until finally they disappeared. Forests started to grow again as well, a welcome sight to Lothar. He couldn’t wait to get to the nearest town.
-------The Next Morning-------
Lothar woke up under a small group of firs at the base of a mountain, the last mountain for a while. He had a good day’s walk until he got a good distance from the mountains, and hopefully towards civilization. Still returning to lower elevations and following the spiralling and curving path through the fir and spruce groves, which grew closer together now, a sign of them becoming proper woods. Animals scurried through the brush around him. He sighed in relief at the sounds of the forest again, his home. In this moment, he was euphoric. He went on like this for a while, walking along the path with a new found joviality. Soon, his mind returned to reality, remembering he would have to find some food, fast. Along with this thought came an abrupt sharp pang of hunger. Finding food was much less of a problem now that he was in the forest however, as there were animals here, so he was in a much less desperate situation than before.

Another thought also occurred to Lothar. When he entered the forest, it was morning and he had pretty much just woken up, but now the sun was nowhere to be found in the sky. Only after climbing a spruce could he see that the sun was setting behind a hill. ‘Shit!’ he thought. ‘How did this happen?’ Lothar had a small suspicion that the forest might have something to do with it. He was surprised though when he saw a small collection of glowing lights in the distance, about a kilometer to the right of him. Watching them for a moment, he observed that they were not moving, and seemed to be in fixtures of some sort.

Lothar started off immediately in the direction of the mysterious lights, stopping occasionally to make sure he was heading in the right direction. It didn’t take long for him to arrive there, and there he found…

[Kuhlfros]

-Snip-

Anora Varian

---

"You want me to teach magic? I may be good, but I'm not a teacher." A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, "What you suggest is crazy you know, rebuilding Norravägg... My brother has been in those ruins before and... there is something terrible imbued in their stones."

Anora wondered if he knew, he was a Nord so he should know, about one of the greatest travesties in Nordic history,

"Jarl Valdr, I would like to ask you a question. Do you know about the Wars of the Stormcrown?"

Jarl Valdr "Raven-Eyes" Hrafn
Valdr smiled sadly and replied
"I am pleasantly surprised to learn that you know of them...there isn't a Nord to date that hasn't forgotten what led to Noravagg falling to Ashen Empire...after the last war our decline began...but there is hope."

He looked up at the sky and said distantly "The ruins of the Storms shall only bring despair until the successor of Orrin takes his old chair..." Every Nord knows the old prophecy told too, after the last war and the fall of Stormgard...but there is more a hidden piece to the prophecy hidden away after the Redbeards began to rule... "When a crowned Raven takes flight, and brings the end of the Ashen night, the blood of men must paint old stones, and the forgotten art shall return from a man of bones."

"There is a chance, that I could be the One spoke of in the prophecy and if I am the crowned Raven and Succesor of Orrin, I have to find Orrin's throne and perhaps then those settlements can be restored to their former glory."

[Everhall]

Anora Varian
The Lightning Sea

---

"Is isn't a throne Yaldr, it's a crown." Anora got from her seat and went into her room on the ship. A few seconds later she came out with a weathered leather book, she felt over the worn material and smiled at the hours she had put into this book, "I was able to grab a few things brefore I left the Ember, this is one of them."

She flipped though the pages of the book before she came upon a page striped with word, "I had been studying Nordic culture for information of a forgotten form of magic lost to history. While I was searching I came upon the prophecy. I read it through and... It can't be a throne Valdr, it's the Dragon Crown."

[Kuhlfros]

Anora Varian
The Lightning Sea

---

"Is isn't a throne Yaldr, it's a crown." Anora got from her seat and went into her room on the ship. A few seconds later she came out with a weathered leather book, she felt over the worn material and smiled at the hours she had put into this book, "I was able to grab a few things brefore I left the Ember, this is one of them."

She flipped though the pages of the book before she came upon a page striped with word, "I had been studying Nordic culture for information of a forgotten form of magic lost to history. While I was searching I came upon the prophecy. I read it through and... It can't be a throne Valdr, it's the Dragon Crown."

Jarl Valdr "Raven-Eyes" Hrafn
The Lightning Sea
Valdr pondered that for a few seconds and scratched his beard
"That makes some sense, I was never taught atleast, much knowledge of Orrin's Chair, but the Dragon Crown...oh yes I know of that...but why would the prophecy call it a chair? Is it supposed to mean his seat...as in his castle...do you have record of the Dragon Crown's last location?"

[Everhall]

Anora Varian
The Lightning Sea

---

"I can't find it. The resources of the Citadel of Kuruth may be vast, but only the ancient library of Åleried can give me the resources to find it. It was lost in the Wars of the Stormcrown. The only other people we could ask would be the current Stormcrowns of Wolfhelm, but I doubt they would help you."

[Cuprum]

The head of the castle come to his senses and give a speech after the cry: ''I cannot have a man who is afraid of everything, I don't have the time to soothe insecurities and fears, I cannot have a man who is standing on a stone by a creek, watching for the fish to swim by and every time he sees a fish he says "Oh look, this fish scares me, I wonder what this fish means, this fish might mean- this, or this fish might mean- that" for God's sake, they are just fish, and they don't mean anything! Such a sad thing, so many fine, strong men standing on top of little stones, pointing at fish all the time! Such a waste! Such a waste of time! I can only have a man who will leap into the water, not minding the damn fish and whatever other little things that scare him. I need to have someone who is braver than me; if I am a soldier, he has to be the general, if I am a general he has to be the flying dragon. Gentlemen we are better than that, thirty years ago we were a group of melancholics soldiers missing our homeland. Now this land is ours, spread our wings and show the world why we are the lords of the skies and the strongest race. すべては帝国を雹! 万歳！''

This may be my only chance to see bugs before those creatures are turn into fertilizer for the Empress's Sakuras, the ashes of those bugs are an excellent fertilizer containing nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium and other nutrients. It also adds organic matter to the soil which may improve soil structure, aeration, soil moisture-holding capacity, and water infiltration, perfext for agriculture and gardening. May the gods keeps this bugs in the hills and the women in our beds. Oh, mighty fire of my ancestors crush my enemies. After that the veterans of the colony transform into mighty Dragons showing the greatness of their race before discharging a volley of fire balls against the bugs while the Rajs prepared their repeating crossbows and spears.

Some of the Soldiers were struck and killed by the fireballs, but many of them dodged, and flew up to engage the dragons in swarms. Some of the others on the ground, used their sharp forearm blades to cut the arrows out of the air. As hundred of the Soldiers engaged the Raj wielding spears, they lashed out with blinding speed, rending both spear, flesh, and armor. All around the Raj were falling and trying to retreat under the Horde of Nahni. A massive screeching Roar could be heard as a Dragon, whose wings had been cleaved through crashed into the ground. Soon enough it was covered by the Horde of Advancing Soldiers, out of the Hive came a new type of Nahni, they were a Variant of the Drones.

Their thick shells repelled spear, arrow, and magic, they rushed out like massive rhinos barreling into the troops of the Hojo. They used their long Forearms to bat away their allies adn stab their Enemies. They trampled the Raj under them, just as the Soldiers cleaved their armor and flesh. While the Dragons were massive and powerful, they were not true dragons. The Overseer still dwarfed them easily, it opened its mouth and a purple acid spewed out, coating the Flying Dragons and eating through their wings and scale. Not even true dragons, would be as rash as the Hojo, they knew the cost facing the Nahni would bring. Meanwhile smaller insects were all fleeing the area and the Hive, they could sense what was coming.

Many non-native plants have been introduced into the new territories, initially as either ornamental plants or for erosion control, stock feed, or forestry. Whether an exotic will become an invasive species is seldom understood in the beginning, and many non-native ornamentals languish in the trade for years before suddenly naturalizing and becoming invasive.

Ancient Akounteen highly revered neem oil as a powerful, all-natural plant for warding off pests. In fact, neem juice is the most powerful natural pesticide on the planet, holding over 50 natural insecticides. This extremely bitter tree leaf can be made in aliquid form, or their seeds can be bought from a number of reputable guilds or gardeners.

In Eroris, the Akounteen use neem oil to eliminate any insectoid creature to protect their crops, many local species got extincted and skillful gardeners appeared. But the Rajs know that those beetles could be useful as a means of transport better than horses, they just have to tame the creatures but how... The answer was very simple Chrysanthemum. These flowers hold a powerful plant chemical component called pyrethrum. This substance invades the nervous system of insects rendering them immobile. To enhance its effectiveness is mixed with Neem, a powerful chemical weapon used to annihilate those invasive pest in the times of the invasio,.

Using natural methods from their homeland the Akounteen gardeners attacked fiercily.