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Forum Main>>Roleplay>> Iguanas Are Even Cooler!
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Muer

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Posted on Wed May 22, 2013 21:44:06
The Elf seemed to lighten slightly as Leaf told his tale; "I see...Why are you so greatly separated from your family, if I may ask?

Trees Aura has been a place of peace since our arrival, of course that was after the initial...Problems." Fru're furrowed his brow ever so slightly as he spoke the last word, though it was only a momentary gesture.

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NeoLeaf
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Posted on Wed May 22, 2013 22:08:14


"War..." Leaf's eyebrows narrowed and his gaze was shifted away from the elf to the earth.

"Wherever the army moved, I had to move."

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Posted on Wed May 22, 2013 22:14:16
Leaf's reply visibly put Fru're on edge, his hand seemed to move towards his sword for an instant but then stopped and remained by his side; "I see...Defending your homeland is an honor greater than the joy of family life, I can understand this.

You no longer have any ties with the remaining Sardonian military, do you my friend?"

There was a strange taint to Fru're's voice, something intrinsic in it that made him seem more trustworthy, like he wouldn't be mad or annoyed no matter the answer. Leaf would feel a tingling compulsion to tell Fru're the whole truth, of course his greater instinct of survival could still over power this feeling if he was not totally seduced by it.

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NeoLeaf
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Posted on Wed May 22, 2013 22:33:16
This took a little thought. Leaf had been in a state of stasis for months, his entire force has been decimated and he was beaten to near death. No one had ever made an attempt to awaken Leaf from his stasis, not even when the country was in peril meaning that everyone believes him to have died in the battle. Leaf was left on his own, left alone in the desert like a rock under an ocean of sand. He is feral from the army.

"No. I have no ties with anyone." He rose his arm to scratch the back of his head.
"If I did they'd probably be dead or part of the casualties." He lowered his arm again after scratching a certain spot on the back of his head.


Last Edited: Wed May 22, 2013 22:33:50
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Posted on Wed May 22, 2013 22:36:56
Fru're dipped his head in a bow again; "Well I see no reason to mistrust you friend, I wish you good fortune within the village, and a safe journey home when your business here is concluded."

Fru're turned and began walking back towards the village at a brisk pace. It seems Leaf had passed his little test, of course that didn't mean the Elves wouldn't be watching him very closely...

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NeoLeaf
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Posted on Wed May 22, 2013 22:52:38

Leaf wouldn't mind really. I mean he is probably the most unusual human by appearance. Muscular physique of a melee warrior, a dark green scar on his chest, emerald swirls on his left arm and standing well over six feet. Wearing nothing but horse leather pants, a belt with pockets and leaving everything else exposed or bare.

Even if they keep him under constant surveillance they can't prove him of being a 'spy' or a 'Resistance soldier'. He has one priority. That priority is to go check on his family, his town and then do the thinking from there. Leaf tread into town and began to open his mind towards what he has to do.

He went to the markets, bought himself some fruits, vegetables and smoked deer meat pieces. After he had filled his belly, he looked around town for a stable to ride buy a horse.

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volcanic_xr
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Posted on Wed May 22, 2013 23:51:55
Vol was relieved that the man hadnt demanded an explanation for what had just happened. Frankly, Vol didnt think he even had one. He wasnt sure if it was this country, the time he had supposedly lost, or just himself maturing, but since being dropped in the field just days ago he had begun to find that he was capable of feats hed never imagined.

Bringing his mind back to the present he released the mans hand and set out into town. It would probably be best to find his convoy to learn about its nature and his duties. As Vol approached the courtyard outside of the keep that he had been taken to there was much more bustle than there had been on his first time through. There were pages tying down supplies onto supplies and packhorses and mules and even some men seemed heavily laden with packs. Clerks checked and scribbled on parchment as they inspected each completed cart. To the side of the courtyard there were a group of men, all facing a single man that was speaking, presumably their commander.

As Vol drew near the men he commander announced Vol without even turning to see him coming. The messenger must have run his hear out to get here before Vol and tell this man of his addition to the ranks. However it seemed the man was already determined to make Vol feel singled out. The mans voice cut into Vols thoughts, and this boys, is the man who will be taking point. Some fancy pants purple man that claims he worked for the late king or some nonsense! Well hell prove his worth one way or another; even a liar can take the arrow that gives away an ambush. The men all laughed, some of them more forced than others; there was clearly an uneasiness to the men here so they must be nervous about something along their journey or maybe what theyd find at the end of it.

Vol doubted he could get much more information so he asked around before finding the man in charge of the convoy. If Vol was to take point then hed have to know the route the convoy was taking. It also wouldnt hurt to listen for gossip of what the men though could be along the trail. After about half an hour Vol was standing at the head of the convoy, waiting for the preparations to be completed.


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Posted on Sat May 25, 2013 01:32:59
*It was said by many that treasures of wisdom had been scattered throughout reality by wise men, women, and genderless abominations against all that was good thousands of years ago.


Strange, one of which we find in his own reality running a transmutation experiment, turning one metal into another by shaving off or adding the minute particles which he knew to make up all things, knew that this was nonsense.

He knew that the "ancients" were a pack of bearded hermits who discovered rudimentary magics, and were far better at showing it off than actually using it. If they were so great, how did they allow themselves to die? Pure nostalgia, all of it. This was what he had tried to teach to his many subjects more than anything, well besides how to kill those which threatened strange. Worshiping the past led to nothing good, only to stagnation and eventual annihilation by those who had not stagnated.

He knew that Tourivil knew this on some level too, he had at least got that much through the boy's skull. *

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Posted on Sun May 26, 2013 23:45:37
Devan squinted as he entered the courtyard of Fort Surthgard again. He had spoken to the Captain shortly after the newcomer had finished doing so, and had been ordered to join the convoy leaving the Fort to report to Lord Emmon Troy on his route to Unu'keth. He had wanted to protest, as he rather stay with his friends whom he had so shortly been reunited since his crisis, but the Captain's orders were final and arguing would do nothing for him.

So, freshly armed and armored by the local armorer stationed at the fort, Devan approached the group of men he knew to make up the convoy.

Most of the men were saddling horses and checking their supply packs, whilst a few that had already done so were checking the trio of wains they were bringing along with them in order to resupply Lord Troy's troops with food and other essentials. All in all it looked like they were just about ready to be off.

Devan had not been given a horse to ride, he didn't personally own one nor did his rank grant him one, so he really didn't have much to do until they left.

Seeing the strange creature standing off a little from the rest of the group Devan quieted his discomfort about the strange being and approached it with a smile; "We meet again. It seems we'll be travelling companions for the time being.

I'm Devan by the way, sorry about the spears last time but you can never be too careful, you know?"

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Posted on Mon May 27, 2013 00:43:21
Er're was walking towards the ex-throne room of the royal palace, where is Mi'fa(My-father) and his brother held their court. It was fitting somehow that they had taken up residence in the old station of leadership and made it their own, it was far from the comfort of their forest home but the Royal Palace did have its charm in a way.

Er're had spent the last several months acting as personal liaison to the Mi'fas(plural, duh), whilst operating as the leader of a rather active execution squad whenever the need arose. The Sardonians had spirit he would give them that much, but not a single one had posed a serious threat to him or his squad mates as of yet during one of their 'find and destroy' missions.

His duties had him running back and forth from the Mi'fas almost constantly, usually relaying high-level information that could not be risked over long-range mental communication. Thus far no Sardonian had tried to seriously tap into their lines of communication but with a Ryla out there, and that man he is partnered with, the Elves were taking no chances at all.

Er're had to wonder why Faolin hadn't stepped in as of yet, they had had only minimal reports of his presence within the country which was certainly odd since Er're had thought he was quite loyal to Sardo and he was the only person left alive that stood a fighting chance against his kinsmen.

When Faolin did finally show himself he would certainly die, but the lest the Ryla could do was die with honour and cease hiding in the shadows like some coward, it really was below his station.

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volcanic_xr
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Posted on Mon May 27, 2013 03:53:44
Vol replied, slightly altering and U'dari saying to fit these Sardonians. "The spear that pierces your back is most often the one not pointed at your throat." Vol respected the man for his honesty, and his bravery. From what Vol could tell so far the man seemed to be completely normal, no magic or immense strength to rely on, yet he had been willing to ride out and challenge, who supposedly could have been an extremely deadly enemy. Yet this man was willing to stand against them to protect his home, Vol could respect that.

"No blood was shed so no apologies are needed. Though...perhaps you can show me what you can do with that spear while we wait?"

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Posted on Mon May 27, 2013 11:21:23
Devan looked uncertainly towards the spear which he still carried and then back to Vol; "I don't think we have the time for that, we'll be leaving pretty soon, but maybe when we stop for the night we can have a quick spar with each other? I'm sure the rest of the guys are as eager as I am to see what you can do, and if I'm honest I need the practise anyway."

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Posted on Mon May 27, 2013 19:57:07
Vol nodded. Now that he looked around, away from he conversation, he could tell that the convoy would be moving very soon. Vol stood up from his relaxed position. To be completely honest he wasn't sure how eventful he wanted this travel to be. On one hand he wanted to test himself, on the other he did not want to endanger these men. Either way Vol was eager to be on his way so he shifted his weapons and began to move toward the convoy, unsure of whether Devan was stationed near him or elsewhere.

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Posted on Mon May 27, 2013 21:30:59
Vol's caravan left within the hour, led by Lieutenant Harken whom had been the man Vol had seen shouting at the rest of the convoy.

The going was as fast as it could be, but the fact that not all of the soldiers were mounted, and also that they were bringing supplies along with them, meant that the train was never going to be breaking records. That being said the Lieutenant was a slave-driver and kept the men moving at a pace that did not allow for idle chatter amongst the ranks.

By nightfall the convoy had travelled quite a few miles, and the men were altogether glad for the chance to rest.

Once a small campsite, consisting of four large tents and a campfire to keep the chill out, was erected and the men were fed a simple dinner of stew, made from questionable meat, and stale bread Devan made his way through the camp and located Vol.

He carried with him his spear, which he had used more like a walking stick than anything throughout the course of the day, and a small buckle-shield. Sighing loudly Devan tried his best to smile but found his weariness got the better of his efforts; "I promised you a sparring match didn't I? If you're still up for it I guess I am as well."

It was clear that Devan was dog-tired, but also that he would keep his promise nonetheless. Even before Vol gave an answer some of the other men began looking towards them, it was clear Devan had at least managed to inform them of the match he had agreed to, and it seemed they were curious to see what this stranger had to offer their side...

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Posted on Tue May 28, 2013 05:12:44
Vol looked up at the man from his place near a small fire, the dancing flames casting eerie shadows across his unnaturally colored hair and face. "You seem tired friend, are you sure you are capable?"
However, even as Vol said this, he stood up and unsheathed his sword while removing his scythe from his back.

Vol immediately felt energy begin flowing into the blade of the scythe and knew he would have to control it if he wanted to spare this man's life. Vol concentrated and soon found it incredibly easy to regulate the energy by focusing upon it. He also noticed that his sword now seemed to be reacting in a similar fashion to the scythe, however it appeared a silver-blue color when the energy flowed through it.

From what Vol could see this man seemed like a perfectly normal man so Vol hoped he could hold back his new abilities. After all Vol could barely remember the last time he'd had a normal sparring match, this could be fun.

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Muer

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Posted on Tue May 28, 2013 11:06:08
"Well, chances are I'm not going to be a hundred percent when we fight these darned Elves, so I'd best get used to being tired." Devan said with a sluggish shrug, he then took a few steps back and bent into a fighting stance with his spear and shield raised.

He noticed, with due caution, that the man's weapons were glowing a strange color now. He must be using magic to make them better somehow, so he was a mage of at least some skill which put him out of Devan's league already. This fight would be swift, Devan realized, and he would not be the one walking away victorious.

Seeing his only chance of victory to be in the form of a surprise attack Devan stepped forward, using the momentum of his step to thrust forward with his spear towards the man's shoulder. The man wasn't wearing any particularly thick armor and it was only after he launched his attack that Devan realized a direct hit would mean a serious injury for his sparring partner...

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Posted on Tue May 28, 2013 12:29:58
Brunnex gave a short bark of a laugh. "Lightweight? I could drink Dionysus under the table thank you very much. Are you even allowed wine, Mister Prophet? Shouldn't you be repenting or something." Brunnex joked heartily.


***


Shane hadn't even thought of running Fenrir's name through Draconian. He could never have guessed. Well perhaps next time he addressed his friend he would have realised. He wondered where Lazarus learned Draconian. Of course he was a God so maybe that meant he knew everything? One would think, wouldn't they?

Shane didn't mean anything. It was just kind of a name. Maybe his father had wanted him to be normal. Had Brunnex changed his destiny this much when snatching him from his dying mother's grasp.

He couldn't help but open his palm for the slightest second when thinking of Brunnex. It was odd but the strange mark was the only thing he had left of Brunnex. A reminder of the day he had killed his Uncle. He'd been trying to ignore that day for so long. Sure he felt sadness. Sure it had nearly broken him but Tourival had offered to pick up the pieces and in his greatest hour of sadness Tourival had stitched him back together. The weak pieces discarded and the strong pieces sewn more closely together. Was that right? Was it, as Eidosa said, just a means? Tourival had taught him that near everything was a means to a goal. Was being a true blood mage using blood magic as a means to a goal? Is that what Blood Magic really was? Is that what he was? A man who would sacrifice even his own mind in the pursuit of strength?

Shane was silent the whole trip back to Una'Keth. He had a lot to muse about. Eidosa did not wake the entire journey no matter how bumpy the ride got. It seemed the little dragon did not share his unease at flying. Shane found himself wondering about the dragons little stubs. He wondered if he would ever fly. He wondered if it was compensating for something else. He had sworn he had seen his own Occulis Genkai reflected in the dragon's eye. Maybe the dragon would have an Ocullis Genkai too. That would be a major power-up for a dragon.

Of course Shane was already worried about the blinding side effects it was said that came with the eye. He had no idea if his eyes would heal like more advanced Occulis Genkai. In fact he really had no idea about anything in this field. For the first in a long time he was utterly clueless. In Blood Magic he'd always had some level of foresight. He could see where lessons were going but with dragons he knew so very little. He would have to interrogate Faolin at some point.

When it came time to land Shane didn't quite know what to do. After all he had a dragonling in his arms so he couldn't exactly combat roll. As if knowing his dilemma Eidosa woke from his slumber and leapt out of his arms. Shane's eyes widened in panic and he leapt after him. His panic was unfounded however when the dragon landed softly upon the earth. When Shane was finally composed he had a soft smile. Maybe Eridosa was a leaper rather than a flyer....

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volcanic_xr
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Posted on Tue May 28, 2013 17:21:48
Instinct took over. Suddenly the glowing runes spread across his body, yellow this time, but somehow Vol knew he was safe so he stood his ground. The spear met Vol's shoulder and glanced away, the man's momentum carrying him slightly toward Vol. The runes changed to blue and Vol's hand flew to the haft of the spear, pulling the man to him if he did not release the spear immediately.

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Muer

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Posted on Tue May 28, 2013 23:25:08
As the desert sped below them Fenrir could not help but looked down towards Myrazia, whom he held like a babe in his arms, whom in turned looked back into his eyes. Neither spoke and yet a thousand thoughts were conveyed, a lifetime of Fenrir's shared and discussed and re-evaluated, Myrazia's curiosity about the world around her and perhaps most of all a dream shared for the future.

Fenrir barely noticed that they had landed at all when Shane suddenly dismounted, causing him to reconnect with the physical world around him and break eye contact with Myrazia, whom kicked out of his grasp and leaped into the air as Eidosa had done before her, she too landed with a near silent thud on the soft sand. Fenrir swung his leg over and slid down Erda's back to land in front of the two dragonlings, only now did he see that there was already a considerable size difference between the two. Eidosa was larger, though not by much, and also far bulkier than his sister was and it didn't take a genius to guess that this gap would only increase as they grew in size.

Faolin thudded to earth behind Fenrir, patting Erda with a smile; "Its been awhile since any Sardonian has seen a Dragonling, but I wonder if the people of Unu'keth ever have...Their reactions should be interesting."

Erda snorted and then leaped back into the air, turning around he became a dot high in the air within half a minute and it was clear he was not planning to return in the very near future.

"Let's get back then, we've got a war to win." Fenrir said suddenly, strutting passed Faolin with Myrazia padding beside him.

As he approached the gates they slowly opened before him and he carried on into the city, followed by Faolin, and a little behind came Shane and Eidosa.

Fenrir led the group into the city until they reached a crowded square area, at which point he realized he didn't really know where he was going so he stopped and allowed his comrades to catch up fully.

"Shane, why don't you take point? I don't know this city after all, and you'll probably know where Tourivil is right?"

--

Devan barely had time to register the runes bursting to life on the man's skin before his spear bounced off of it's target.

His opponent was far faster than he was and before he knew what was happening he had been pulled off balance and was stumbling towards his glowing opponent...

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Posted on Tue May 28, 2013 23:42:46
Do you really think that strange would allow his faithful to spend all day repenting? Not goddamn likely. *Tourivil said with a snort. * Though, I don't recall strange drinking very much, if ever. The pleasures of life meant little to him in his later years. Enough of that though, the important thing is that as the prophet, who can tell me what I can or cannot do? If I wish to drink, then I will.

*As the conversation progressed, Tourivil had steered brunnex and Himself into the ground floor of his tower, where the tomb of Jan dominated the room. He knew that the first place any one would seek him out would be in his own house, and the ground floor was the best place to catch them as quickly as possible. *

The burden of the elves which I have put on our shoulders still troubles me greatly, barney. Tell me, do you know, or have an idea, of their numbers?

*The little beast then piped up, which was unexpected, and somewhat startling. *

"Their numbers are meaningless to those of skill. "

*Tourivil gave a snort. *

That is easy for you to say, you are an eldritch abomination whose veins are filled with dark power, I am but a man.

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Posted on Wed May 29, 2013 00:29:26
And I but a... Brunnex paused. He had been about to say 'a man' but that didn't quite seem to describe him any more. He was much closer to the little beast than to simple, mortal men. His body had been crafted by Strange's twisted magics and his soul... He didn't even know how Desi had done that. Whatever I am.

Well anyway I don't know how many of them there are and I can't even say whether they'll send reinforcements. They squish like people though so take comfort in that. Brunnex replied with a fist on palm squishing motion.

***


'Put me on your shoulders. I shall not be small enough to perch there for too long and I have always dreamt of riding my Rider. Irony. One cannot enjoy it when one is stuck in an egg with no-one to speak with and nothing to do.'

Shane chuckled at Eidosa's strange request. He bent down picking up the dragon and setting it upon his shoulder. The dragon was a bit too large regardless of it's youth. However with some amount of adjustment Eidosa ended up relatively comfortable.

'Is that good?'
'Perfect.'

Shane followed Faolin and Fen into the city. The people of Una'keth went about their business by and large ignoring the dragons. They were a people who worshipped a blood mage. They saw odd things all the time and quite frankly the beasts looked altogether too similar to the Prophet's protector to arouse their wonderment. They did cast suspicious glances from time to time. They were wary of outsiders. Shane himself was only considered an insider due to his apprenticeship with the Prophet.

When Fenrir differed direction to him Shane smiled and took point. They are most likely at the Tower of the Prophet. Shane told them and headed off in the direction. In no time at all they had arrived at the Tower and Shane was stepping through the door...

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Posted on Wed May 29, 2013 00:48:36
You seem to be in quite your own group Barney, for now. Though, I consider you a man as any other. You at least look the part. *At this, the little beast gave Tourivil a stiff prod in the head with one of it's fat little claws, and Tourivil chuckled as Shane entered the tower. Any trace of laughter was gone from Tourivil's face in an immeasurably short period of time. *

I see that you have taken up Faolin's offer, shane. *Tourivil stated. *

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Posted on Wed May 29, 2013 01:39:30
Shane stopped dead in his tracks as if caught in some forbidden act. His Master did not sound pleased. He did not sound angry though his face was set forebodingly, or so it seemed to Shane. Shane remembered what Tourival had told him when he had left the city. Remember your training...

I did, Master. I chose my path and I hope it is one that you can accept. My choice is irrevocable. It is as much part of me now as the ways that you have shown me. Can you accept this? Shane asked fearing the worst. If Tourival would have nothing more to do with him than he would simply have to leave. Shane was, of course, over reacting. It was pretty unlikely Tourival would take such offence to his becoming a Dragon Rider.

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Posted on Wed May 29, 2013 02:36:06
*A small smile cracked Tourivil's ruined face, the scars, burns, and missing pieces contorted themselves around his remaining features, it always gave him an odd patchwork appearance. *

Shane, your flair for the dramatic amuses me. You are still young, and I can see the light of blood magic burning in your mind. Quite literally, actually. You must work on your mental defenses. Though, I am quite good. Anyways, *Tourivil dismissed his casual mind reading with a wave of his hand. * what I am saying is that even if you leave at once to train in some secret rider fortress in the distant mountains, the art will always be with you. And one day, I know for a fact, it would call to you to learn more of it. That is just how this magic works.

So, your choice does not concern me. You are already one of us, and we are hardly an exclusive order. No, my only concern is that when you do leave to go on your adventures, as I did, you will suffer the same fate that I did. That you will return home, only to find your master is no longer there. And you will have to claw your way up to a fraction of your master's arts, as opposed to building off all he knows as a student should. That is my great fear shane.

I do not mean to burden your mind, but it would be unfair to you if I did not. You have a unique position shane. As a demi-god, and now a rider, you could take Blood magic out of the dark cave it has been forced into by centuries of vilification. You can show the public all that is good in us, and bring us back into the light. It is an opportunity that few have ever had, and most have squandered. Please keep all that I have said in mind.

*As the echoes of Tourivil's little speech died out in the large stone room, he reached up a hand to the little beast, and patted the monster's head silently. *

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Posted on Sun Jun 02, 2013 17:42:11
(Guys, we're just gonna have to re-do everything we done I'm afraid.)

Even as he approached the throne room doors, as he had done a hundred times over the past months, Er're couldn't help but find it somewhat ironic that this place would be the place chosen by the Mi'fas as the base of operations. It was fitting of course, but compared to the luxuries of home even the Royal Palace was a hovel and Er're was sure the Mi'fas wanted nothing more than to end this invasion so they could return home.

Two elves stood at either side of the throne room door and as the four of them saw Er're approach they dipped their heads in unison and whispered respectful greetings, at the same time the throne room door opened seemingly by itself and began slowly revealing the room beyond.

For the most part the throne room was unchanged, though it still showed signs of the explosive entry Er're had made all those months ago when he took the palace, with the exception of any and all royal or Sardonian banners and sigils being replaced by plant life of some sort; ivy clung to the walls and ferns grew straight through the stone floor, there was barely a square foot of stone in sight that was not inhabited by some sort of plant.

At the end of the regal red carpet that still trailed towards a raised platform was not one but two thrones, each as extravagant as the other, and on top of these thrones sat a Mi'fa.

The two Mi'fas had the resemblance of twins for sure, but their overall demeanour was far from alike to say the least.

Xavra're, Er're's own Mi'fa and the leader of Clan Anko, looked like a pale golden God sitting atop his throne in a manner more dignified than any King ever could. His hair was pale silver, like liquid moonlight, and was tied into a flawless long ponytail that ran down his half the length of his back, a fringe had been left to frame his handsome features masterfully. His eyes shone like glittering pebbles made of grey slates; on the surface the eyes shone bright with understanding and compassion but almost unnoticeable within them was a world of judgement and scrutiny. If Er're did not know his Mi'fa as well as he did he might have thought he was an Angel fallen from grace, as it stood however he knew him to be an individual of the highest honour and pride, but also one of limited patience and finite kindness when pushed.

Jasara, the leader of Clan Inuka, on the other hand looked not only uncomfortable sitting on his throne beside his twin brother, but he looked uncomfortable in his own skin as well; he was as flawless as his sibling and yet his body, particularly his face, seemed to radiate malaise. His hair was jet black and cut short messily, leaving it long enough to barely grab a handful at best. His eyes were the same crystallized stone as his brother's but he made no attempt to cover up his complete contempt for the world around him; his eyes were locked in a constant furious narrowment that gave the impression he was never at peace with any situation. If Er're did not know Jasara he might have thought the man would rather kill you than share pleasantries bu....In fact, even though he knows him fairly well nothing else can be said for the Mi'fa's temperament; he is a raging inferno barely contained within a glass container, and with the slightest provocation he would gladly skin a man alive.

"Er're'Shu( 'Youngest brother') what news do you brings us? Have any more rebels thrown down their swords yet or do they still fight on?" Xavra're asked Er're as he continued to approach the thrones, even though both of them knew he already knew what the answer would be. It was Er're's job to communicate with the Elven commanders and relay their reports to the Mi'fas and it was their job to listen to him and give him orders to relay back, protocol would not be overlooked even if it would save time and effort, that simply wasn't their way.

Clearing his throat and shrugging slightly, both with the corners of his mouth as well as his shoulders, Er're replied with a sigh; "The Sardonians remain resistant for the time being, though what resistance they do pose is diminishing as it has been ever since our occupation began.

The Lord of Springvale is thought to have regathered some of his men and is reaving amongst the woodlands of his land, we have yet to get an exact lock on their base of operations but it should not take long. When we find him once more Lord Ostagar will not slip through our fingers again.

The keep of Summerstar appears to remain the Resistance's greatest stronghold, though they have still not bolstered it enough to truly pose a problem if you should chose to finally take action against it. Lord Troy commands his men well and they respect his leadership, I believe most will die with swords in their hands before they disobey their Lord and surrender to us.

Throll stands still, though is yet to make any real move for power, yet it still remains the largest threat to our cause, some of the Commanders are beginning to question why it survives still when we could crush it now, before it may become a problem later, a question I myself ponder the answer to if truth be told.

Of the one hundred and fifty men sent into the Dwarven mountains we are still in contact with just under forty, and they are having no luck breaching the Dwarven strongholds at all. The Dwarves do not posses magical capabilities but their cave passages are almost un-navigatable to us and are littered with traps and mechanism that our men rarely expect enough to evade. My brothers have reported that the stone itself seems to want them dead. From all that I've heard these Dwarves deserve a real commendation, their craftsmanship must be even greater than I had originally thought.

The Ryla Faolin and his masked counterpart remain as elusive as ever, not even our hunters can track their movements for any length of time. Every time we think we've found them and send an execution squad out to complete the job we walk right into a trap, or get on scene entirely too late. So long as the Ryla lives, some of the Commanders seem to think, we will never be able to fully subdue Sardo or it's peoples.

I agree with this assumption Mi'fas; above the knights and their Lords, above the might of the Dwarves and the magic of the Threllos and above even their love for their fallen monarch the Sardonians have an unyielding belief in the Ryla and his Dragon, that so long as they live there is hope that our campaign will be defeated and we driven out or put to the swords in the process."

Jasara glowered slightly as Er're finished, leaning his head to one side he eyed Er're as if he were nothing but an annoyance; "So what you're telling me is that nothing has changed to our favour since your last report? You waste our time Mis'o( 'Weak/young one' ), I'm beginning to wonder if a replacement is in order. Perhaps someone from mine own fold would yield better results than you have thus far."

Er're simply dipped his head in acknowledgement to the comment; "I apologize Mi'fa, there are no excuses to be made for the continued existence of rebellion within Sardo. I ask only that you give me more time to correct my mistakes, I assure you my future results shall be far more impressive if you are kind enough to permit me any."

In truth Er're had little power over the whole occupation, at best he was a messenger and a part-time executioner, so he really shouldn't be taking the blame for the slow progress of the war when really it fell upon the heads of the commanders he reported to. Er're knew this, Xavra're knew this and Jasara certainly knew this also. Of course, if the Mi'fa wished to place the entirety of the blame on Er're then he could do nothing but accept it willingly and without question.

Xavra're smiled faintly and looked towards his brother in a manner that showed he was used to his brother's mannerisms; "Jasara you speak too harshly towards our brother Er're, the fault is less his than it is our own. A replacement from your own clan would be unwise, Er're fits the bill perfectly and has proven himself a skilful and leal clansmen."

Turning to face Er're the Mi'fa's smile vanished and was replaced by a more serene look, as if he had half-slipped into a pleasant day dream; "Your report is informative Er're-Shu, we have indeed been quite lax with the Sardonians thus far and I admit it has been mostly my own doing. I would rather save as many of the Sardonians as possible, I do not want the unnecessary blood of innocents on mine or any other's hands.

Your query has been noted however. Perhaps it is time for the Threllosian threat to be dealt with, and I can think of no one better to lead the assault than yourself."

"Truly Mi'fa?" Er're asked as he bowed, smiling widely at the thought of being given such a position of command at his age. The other commanders were all Elves in their mid hundreds; seasoned men and women whom had seen more battlefields than he seen years in his lifetime. He on the other hand was a mere 78 years old, a pittance compared to the other commanders, and was as of yet untested in terms of true warfare.

In fact Er're was not only the youngest Inarus Elf within Sardo, he was the very youngest of all of his kind. The Inarus do not breed very often at all and it is usually many decades, or even a century or two, between childbirths. Of course, this is offset by the fact their population does not decrease due to old age or disease which means it remains sizeable even with a tiny birth rate. Being the youngest of his kind gave Er're a strange place of respect amongst his kinsmen, whom always keenly observed their youngest sibling and were quick to praise any feat he accomplished. Of course any fault he made was quickly ridiculed and blamed on his inexperience and ignorance of the world, two presumptions made by his clansmen about him he would never be rid off until a new Elf was born into the clan.

"What? WHAT?" Jasara asked twice, the second time he dug his nails into the wooden arm rest of his throne so hard that it creaked from the strain; "Xavra're, no. That is a step too far, even for a clansmen such as Er're such a role is undeserved...From the start of this invasion I have made it crystal clear that on the day we finally elect to take care of the Threllos I shall be the one leading the men, these Threllos are the only beings inside this miserable country that may give me at least a minor challenge and I will not let opponents of their calibre slip through my hands so easily."

"Calm my brother." Xavra're said evenly, though Er're thought he seen the tiniest flicker of something in his eyes that might have been anger, though he could never tell with his Mi'fa. In all his years serving Clan Anko he had never seen Xavra're lose his temper fully, though what tiny scraps of anger he had seen within his Mi'fa had been enough to make him harbour no wishes to see it's full extent.

"You too shall be on the battlefield on that day, as will I, but it is Er're whom is most suited to leading the men whilst we deal with the stronger members of the Threllosian forces. The Threllos are powerful mages and if left unchecked they may surprise us and take a good deal of our men down with them, that will not be the case however if both you and I focus our full efforts on quelling their fight before they can do any harm.

Er're has walked the land of Sardo more than any other clansmen, he knows their minds and their skills in a way no other Inarus does. With him leading our forces our victory shall be not only assured and swift, but with minimal casualties." Xavra're spoke in a strangely reassuring manner, like a hypnotist trying to put someone under.

Er're felt himself be more and more swayed towards this idea with every word the Mi'fa spoke. If he hadn't already been on board with it then he certainly would be now, the confidence the Mi'fa spoke with had an alluring effect to say the least.

"Cut the Spiritual Sway brother." Jasara spat, in a voice like a knife plunging into flesh; "The fact you tried to use your little trick on me proves you have little faith that I'll agree to this plan, as you should...

Alone you or I could easily defeat the Threllosian city without much trouble.

Together the Threllos would not stand one iota of a chance against us.

Alongside our brothers as well and any fun I might have had would be crushed alongside our enemy.

You speak of wanting to make sure our brothers remained as unharmed as possible? Very well, allow me to away right now and destroy the city before the hour is through. You know as well as I do that it would be no real feat on my part, and that not a single one of our brothers would be harmed in the process."

"I also know that not one Threllos would leave the city alive; soldier or civilian, elderly or infantile, resisting or surrendering, none of that would stop you from killing each and every one of the Threllos." Xavra're shook his head; "That is not our way...We will speak of the details of this later my brother, for now we have the problem of the Ryla and the masked swordsman to deal with."

"It is not your way, and yes we shall speak of this later..." Jasara said, glaring at the side of his brothers head. After a moment his features relaxed ever so slightly, back to their normal state of smouldering anger; "This masked swordsman intrigues me, his legend precedes him greatly. If the chance arises I think I shall challenge him to Ange-Kun and put that blade of his to the test."

Xavra're seemed to consider what his brother said for a moment before shaking his head ever so slightly; "Nahkaro Mizashi is reportedly a swordsman without peer, and a more shrewd tactician there has not been for many centuries apparently. I doubt he would be foolish enough to accept such a duel, nor be in a situation where you could issue such a challenge.

No, I think our friends Faolin and 'N' shall remain in the shadows for the time being until they have gathered what they believe to be substantial forces and power.

Then, and only then, will they rise from the shadows and attempt to strike at our heart before we know their full strength."


"I agree Mi'fa." Er're said with a nod; "I have had personal experience with the Ryla and I know he is no fool, he will not fight us directly until he is absolutely certain he can defeat us outright. His power is great, truly great, but he is inexperienced compared to the Rylas of old and his inexperience shall be his downfall when he comes up against those amongst my brothers that are old enough to remember the true power of the Rylas."

"You under estimate him greatly Er're-Shu, he may not be as wizened as some of the Rylas of old but he is still a Ryla. Defeating him shall be no easy task, I have heard his Ruthna'guta(A term used to describe the combined efforts of a Dragon and Rider) is something to behold, something I wish to do before this wars end." Xavra're reprimanded Er're sharply, though his voice remained level and reassuring whilst he done so.

"You are right Mi'fa. Faolin will not be an easily overcome adve-" Er're stopped mid-sentence as his senses were harassed, nay barraged, nay bombarded, by a magical presence so dark and so daunting that for a moment flashes of demonic visages blinded his vision.

When he snapped to a moment later he tuned his senses in, and located the source of the staggering power; it was either very close to, or inside the Threllosian city of Throll and whatever it was it was far more powerful than anything Er're had ever sensed before, except maybe King Izandi's son...

The thought hit him harder than even the presence itself did, the King's son! He was a Threllos, like no other Threllos yes and most certainly not the King's son but certainly a Threllos, and the presence was inside of Throll, could it truly be him? The man had always unsettled Er're, he might have had the brain of a fool but he had a truly terrifying level of magic, perhaps even stronger than the Mi'fas. If this was him, and he was deciding to join the war now then the Inarus had bigger problems to worry about than Rylas and masked men. Far bigger problems.

Just stopping himself from stuttering Er're cleared his throat and shook his head in disbelief; "Mi'fas...I..I think I know whom that presence belongs to. Our reports spoke of the King's son whom went missing some time ago, I think he has returned and if I am right then we can no longer afford any leniency with the Sardonian people..." Er're turned to face the Mi'fas as he finished speaking, wondering how they would react to his level of severity coupled with the overwhelming power itself.
Er're was shocked to see that both Mi'fas looked as if they had seen a ghost, he had never seen either of them so shocked before. He had never actually seen either of them show surprise before.

"You're wrong." Jasara said, rising up from his throne as he stared blankly in the direction of Throll, the presence seemed to disturb even him which was a bone-chilling idea.

it is so much worse than that..." Xavra're half-whispered, closing his eyes he sighed slightly; "Er're, that is not the King's son....That presence belongs to someone we had thought would not revisit the world of the living fully ever again. What brought him here I cannot say, but let us hope he chooses not to remain for too long...

It has been so long since I last saw the Si'fa( 'High-father' )..."

Er're's jaw dropped at the revelation that this presence was not the King's son, but rather the Si'fa; the father of all Elves...

(Every poster would be able to sense the Si'fa's power no matter their location, and even from a distance of many tens of miles it would still be dauntingly large, comparable to that of a Rank one Threllos.

Of course the presence is within Throll and your characters have no way of knowing it's origin for certain. Given it's position and its power level it wouldn't be too far-fetched for them to think it was a Rank One Threllos revealing themselves to the world.)


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Brunty
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Posted on Sun Jun 02, 2013 18:31:43
'He is right. We are Dragon and Rider. We are a Hero of the Peoples. Our actions will shape the Sardo that will rise out of the ashes of this war. The peoples will celebrate all that we are and vilify all that we are not.' Eidosa agreed with Tourivil solemnly. 'Do not let his weigh so heavily upon your mind. We were born for this.'

Shane nodded smiling at his Master. Thank- He opened his mouth to speak and was struck by a terrible visage. Something of immense power had struck. Shane was disorientated for more than a few moments...

***


Brunnex was the first to recover. His mind clearer due to the effects of the mask. Throll. Thing. Sudden. Brunnex mumbled under his breath as he collected his thoughts. A being of immense power has touched down in Throll. Brunnex declared to the group eventually. I can have a clone check it out..? Brunnex said turning to Tourival for his reply.

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NeoLeaf
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Posted on Mon Jun 03, 2013 15:36:46
Leaf had purchased a horse with what money he has on him. He spent the night in an inn to recover from his long walk.

He woke up the next morning. Buying bread from the bakery and drinking carrot juice. He exercised for a bit and finally got on his horse.

He rode his with en route to the nearest town. Maybe going to pass two or three towns before sleeping today.

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Posted on Mon Jun 03, 2013 15:54:00
Their match over, the small field they had been standing in had been torn apart, grass and chunks of dirt flung about by the power of Vol's sword. The lieutenant had ended the match immediately and ordered the men to bed even as they were pulling themselves to sleep. Vol had spent a few more minutes speaking to Devan, who told Vol about someone even faster than him.

So before Vol finally surrendered to his dreams he ran through everything that had happened over the last few days. "Faster than me....Fenrir Shalza, what are you truly capable of?"

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Muer

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Posted on Mon Jun 03, 2013 18:29:24
Vol was awakened by a ruffle at his tent flap, after which Devan's head popped through the opening; "Get up, we're having breakfast and then we're leaving."

Devan's head disappeared from the flap without a moments passing. When Vol exited the tent he would quickly see that half of the tent had already been dismantled and packed away, and the sun was only barely over the horizon. Some men would began taking Vol's tent down the moment he was out of it.

He would see a small circle of men off to his right, each of whom had a small bowl of what could only be described as a mockery of porridge which they were spooning down thankfully. Devan sat at the far end of the circle, looking towards Vol with a spare bowl of slop extended towards him patiently...

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Posted on Mon Jun 03, 2013 18:36:59
*Tourivil took a sip of his wine as he and Barney settled themselves in the basement. It was the first place they had gone together, breaking into the basement more out of curiosity than anything else, and where they had both in some way been affected by the remnants of Strange's life. Tourivil flicked open the grimiore, and spoke. *

What will you do when I am gone, Barney? I will not live forever, and I will not be regenerated as you have been, and will be. For a time, until the second prophet comes, Unu'Keth could be yours to command. How will you run it?

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