Fantasy ✣ Defense of Acheron ✣

[Archie]

All the world is divided between the men and the elves.. Human Kingdoms to the South plot and fight among eachother, and originally, the refugees form these wars were accepted in the Great Forest to the North, dominated by the Elves.


Everything changed, however, with a change in Elven leadership. Motivated by undying prescription to the words of the God of Nature, Halyuk, the Elves under their new Chieftan have made war upon the human settlements, guilty of deforestation and the disruption of wildlife. Thousands have been killed, and their parts have been recycled, fed to predators, Elves, and dogs, as to "not waste Halyuk's gifts".


Riding huge elks and summoning the powers of animals, the Elves, longtime masters of the forest, defeated militia after militia, closing in on the largest and proudest Human settlement: Acheron.


Human towns were forbidden anything but weak fences around them for defense, but now, the citizens have constructed a makeshift stone wall. They dig in, burning the forest around them, and prepare for the assault.


Neither side can find an understanding. The humans say they've followed the Elven laws and can't go back to their warring kingdoms without risking death. The Elves meanwhile think Humans are a blight to nature and a plague that will eventually claim all the world's beautiful wildlife, and are following the prescription of their religion.


In this RP, there are two sides, the humans and the Elves. The humans must find a way to have enough food and water to wait out a siege and somehow defend against a massive army approaching. The elves must figure out a way to get inside the walls now that the humans burnt the forest and destroyed the Elves' major advantage. Both sides will definitely end up having people of vastly different opinions as to whether they should fight or make peace. The stage is set, who's side are you on?

Check the overview for more info, thanks! We're are started but are still accepting profiles.


Siege stats, updated every in-game week

• Week 1
• Week 2

• Acheron
  
  
  Population: 5,000 (1,800 able bodied males, 1,800 able bodied females. The rest are too old, too sick, or too young to fight). About 200 can use magic.
  
  
  Town Guard: 100 trained professionals, including light cavalry, foot soldiers, and archers. 5 are trained battle mages.
  
  
  Militia: 200, train every week, mostly archers and footsoldiers, and 20 light horsemen. 14 can use magic, but don't have the best training.
  
  
  Other armed: 700. Around 80 are armed Elven archer militia, including 35 mages. The raving bands of armed refugees causes a serious crime problem.
  
  
  Supply situation: Strained, there are too many refugee mouths to feed. In terms of weapons, the place is well stocked and the blacksmith has been working around the clock.
  
  
  Morale: Low among refugees, moderate among townspeople. The crime problem and fights between refugees and townspeople are coming to a head.
  
  
  Elven War Band
  
  
  Size: 500 warriors, including 70 battle mages
  
  
  Reinforcements arriving in 2 weeks
  
  
  Supply situation: Excellent and well stocked
  
  
  Morale: Very high
• TBD

 

[Archie]

Reserved

 

[Archie]

@Tenebris


@JustCallMeAimee


@SilentSir


@Warb


@AshenLily


@MsPolite


@SSgt Goodrich


@Ullr


@Anaxial


We are officially OPEN, post away and great characters all! Let's have a great one


Everyone else; this RP is still open and accepting. It's an epic battle that will be great to be a part of, so there's no limit in how many character we'll take. Go for it!


--

 

[Archie]

The Blacksmith

​

”If you don’t want to be attacked whiteout a way to defend yourself, buy one now!” Aiden shouted in the market square, waving around his gigantic swords, with a table in front of him stacked with axes and daggers that he'd made over a long week of hard production.


”Crime's coming in with more refugees! Defend yourself and your family, and if you are a refugee, claim what's yours! Everyone needs a weapon, no matter what you have, or who you are. If it's good for you, it's good for humanity!” he called out, before handing out some more weapons to a crowd that had gathered, just as the Temple bells struck at noon. His philosophy was to always let a customer feel the blade before wielding it, to swing it around provided nobody got hurt… and if they did, people would believe the blade could cut deep. If anyone stole, that was a loss he was willing to accept, but he had more than his fair share of experience dealing with thieves and pummeling them into the ground… occasionally getting pummeled as well. He realized he might have tried too hard speaking without his accent and figured he would be more credible to the townspeople if he put up the local dialect


”Bring yer gold so the rest of it ain't taken! Defend yerself! Protect yer women!” he shouted. But all of this was a distraction for him and his young apprentice manning the stand. The real threat came when a man approached Aiden, put his hand on the table, and stared. He quickly grabbed one of the daggers, and stuck it up to Aiden' throat.


“Ye think ye can take all our gold, after what we've BEEN THROUGH!?” he shouted. Aiden froze, standing there, not raising his hands. He couldn't move – he was caught totally off guard, and the blade was close enough that one step from that man would kill him.


”Anyone who kills this man gets much more of where this came from, free. If you think these blades are enough for all of us, yer wrong. These ones run out I make more, and more, and more. And they'll be for you” he said, staring at people in the crowd one by one by one, and then back at the man.


But nobody did anything. Some of the refugees must have agreed, and this blonde male in front of him was muscular, intimidating, and clearly a fighter. Aiden hated being dependent on others, but now, he just needed a hero.


---

The Hunter

​

”Heads heads and more heads” Ilyndrathyl mused as he and his band of five elves retreated back to the camp bearing human heads on stakes. For three days, the entire Elven war band would not have elks to ride, so the scouting party was tired, frustrated, and thirsting for blood. Ever since the s devastated the grazing pastures of the Western fields, the Elven supply situation had grown increasingly troubled, but Ilyndrathyl was an old warrior – he knew form a hundred years of combat what the food requirements of a city the size of Acherons' was, especially given the tidal wave of refugees that the town should have turned away. If the Elves had it bad since they lacked their cavalry for half a week, the humans had it worse.


He trudged through the camp, other elves averting their gaze from the bloodthirsty hunter. On his left hand was a leash which wrapped around the neck of a human woman they had taken from raiding a town.


”Our leader, where is our leader!?” Ilyndrathyl shouted, tugging at the woman's neck as she stared at the elf and his party with no tears, but instead, eyes of hatred.


”This pig poisoned her village's well. What is the punishment for defiling the gifts of nature!?”


None of the elves responded. Instead, they busied themselves with things to do, not raising their gaze.


He turned to the captive.


”I think we should eat you” he whispered. But she was not afraid. That made Ilyn afraid. But no, he would suppress that instinct. Any good warrior would.

 

[Anaxial]

Letholdus had taken refuge against an old stone building, resting his aching knees as he sipped water from an animal skin and watched over the ever growing crowds with a watchful gaze, his eyes as sharp as a Elf's arrow, his spear tucked into his elbow and raising high above him while his sword lack sheathed at the base of his spine. Popping the cork back into the water skin, Letholdus sighed with relief as he leaned against the building and took just a moment to himself, observing the merchants, the people, some may have seen the influx of Refugees as a bad thing, but Letholdus had been all over the world and enjoyed nothing more than meeting new people.


Even if these new people brought crime with them, in his eyes; the good ones were worth it. A short smile curled under his grey-white mustache as he saw the local Blacksmith spouting off about his goods, swords and spears, shields and daggers. The boy was skilled and seemed to have plenty of customers, though thieves were always about and so he kept his eyes on the lad, he would feel terrible if something happened to the boy under his watch. Sooner than he could finish his thought however, it seemed that trouble had found it's way to the young blacksmith. Letholdus rose from his shady spot and calmly dusted himself off before he nonchalantly walked up behind the man holding the poor boy hostage and tilted his spear forward, the pole gripped tightly in both his hands.


"C'mon then lad, you're not helpin' ya case by holdin' the boy hostage. Let 'im go, 'fore this gets ugly." Letholdus' old voice spoke out as the tip of the spear found itself digging into the man's back, just below his right shoulder blade. It'd only take a quick shift of the old guard's weight and the refugee would be skewered, lucky for him that Letholdus was giving him this chance to back down at all.

 

[SSgt Goodrich]

The mercenary was silent on the edge of the square of Acheron, gazing over the sea of refugees and townspeople alike. He began to recognize faces in the crowd, slight hints of similarity that he was not usually keen of seeing. Being able to recognize people in a city meant that he was there to long, but considering the circumstances of the siege, it could not be helped.


More importantly then recognizing people was recognizing clients and often times, he took mental notes of the powerful figures and one such figure was the blacksmith--known all around the city. He was going to pay him a visit.


With a stiff arm, the mercenary carried his halberd and took down the steps from the statue base toward the blacksmith selling weapons. His gaze not wavering as he approached.


@Archie

 

[SilentSir]

"Move you sorry, flat-eared excuses for warriors! Form ranks!" Valerian barked his orders at his officers, who in turn shouted at their warriors. Valerian had been overseeing troop movements for days, and the siege showed no signs of breaking. It was all he could do to keep his swordsmen in line. He idly fiddled with his own sword, a beautiful piece of work. it had been handed down through his family since the Ancient Times, and it had served them well. The 4'6" blade was tempered steel and silver, with an obsidian core running through the middle of the blade, giving it a black hue. The hilt was made of fine red silk and leather, bound together to form a strong grip. He loved it.


Valerian snapped out of his thoughts, and paced back and forth in front of his battalion. "You understand why we are here. These foul humans have desecrated our lands for long enough. I require three volunteers." Valerian scanned his ranks, seeing if any brave souls were up to the task. He was met with silence. Valerian spat on the ground. "You disgust me! Valus, Norva, Meliva, form up on my flank, now!" The three warriors hurried to the front, and Valerian could see their eyes were wide with fear. "You three have been chosen to join me on a special mission. We are going hunting!" The look in the eyes of the warriors changed from fear to bloodlust. Valerian turned back to his battalion. "You all must keep your vigilance! You never know when a flat-ear could kill you. Man your posts and stay alert! Move out!" Valerians officers led his battalion to the siege line, while he began to formulate his plan, with his chosen warriors.

 

[Warb]

In the center of the village, a block south from the town square, in the barracks rested a room. This room was no simple living room or bedroom, this was a room for war. A room for the first moves in any war, planning. In the center of a room a big square table rested and upon it was laid out an extensive map of the surrounding area of the village of Acheron. Resting atop the map were several smaller papers, rectangular sheets covered in scribbled script. Script forming reports on crime in Acheron, of what might be elven heads peeking over hills, and a report on where the elven camp might be. That last sheet was not resting on the table, instead it was in the hand of a rather short man.


This man was none other then Captain Kurt Kleinnermann, leader of the town guard and right now he was upset. Setting down the report, he put a hand up and started rubbing his forehead, sighing and muttering under his breath, "Might be..." Putting his hand down on the table and leaning over it he surveyed the map, the markers he used to signify all the maybes. Like maybe the elven camp was over to the west and maybe they had seen some elves on the southern hills. But these were all big maybes.





Kurt need to know not to maybe know. For a few moments he stayed like that, leaning over the map as he bore two holes into it with his eyes. Abruptly he pushed off and turned towards the door. On his way he picked up a huge sword leaning against the wall, resting the sword on his shoulder. As he trudged out with purpose 5 foot soldiers from the town guard fell in with him, one asking, "Where are we goin' Captain?" Looking at the guard out of the corner of his eye, Kurt says, "Ta give out some orders." The guard picked up on the intentional vagueness of the statement and didn't continue the conversation.


The path to Kurt's destination lead past the town square and right into view of the current trouble. Mildly frowning, he strode up to the standoff at hand. In a commanding voice he barked out, "Letholdus! Report, what's goin' on here?"

 

[JustCallMeAimee]

In the center of the village, a block south from the town square, in the barracks rested a room. This room was no simple living room or bedroom, this was a room for war. A room for the first moves in any war, planning. In the center of a room a big square table rested and upon it was laid out an extensive map of the surrounding area of the village of Acheron. Resting atop the map were several smaller papers, rectangular sheets covered in scribbled script. Script forming reports on crime in Acheron, of what might be elven heads peeking over hills, and a report on where the elven camp might be. That last sheet was not resting on the table, instead it was in the hand of a rather short man.
This man was none other then Captain Kurt Kleinnermann, leader of the town guard and right now he was upset. Setting down the report, he put a hand up and started rubbing his forehead, sighing and muttering under his breath, "Might be..." Putting his hand down on the table and leaning over it he surveyed the map, the markers he used to signify all the maybes. Like maybe the elven camp was over to the west and maybe they had seen some elves on the southern hills. But these were all big maybes.





Kurt need to know not to maybe know. For a few moments he stayed like that, leaning over the map as he bore two holes into it with his eyes. Abruptly he pushed off and turned towards the door. On his way he picked up a huge sword leaning against the wall, resting the sword on his shoulder. As he trudged out with purpose 5 foot soldiers from the town guard fell in with him, one asking, "Where are we goin' Captain?" Looking at the guard out of the corner of his eye, Kurt says, "Ta give out some orders." The guard picked up on the intentional vagueness of the statement and didn't continue the conversation.


The path to Kurt's destination lead past the town square and right into view of the current trouble. Mildly frowning, he strode up to the standoff at hand. In a commanding voice he barked out, "Letholdus! Report, what's goin' on here?"

Nona was light on her feet as she walked across the roof tops hands in pockets, her solemn expression was obscured by a black and silver mask. Silently she watched the scuffling below with her good eye, the other had long since turned milky white. Brawling was never her thing, but neither was murder. She looked at the three men, two of which stood stalk still with blades diting their skin, and then at the Captain and grinned softly; tilting her head she stood walking standing on the edge of the roof and with strong legs she propelled her self off. The decent was enough to make any human fearful as the wind was strong and promised that tge floor would be hard to land on. Spinning mid air she turned her body and crouched, landing perfectly near Kurt, she bowed her head.

 

[Archie]

@Anaxial


@Warb


@SSgt Goodrich

The Blacksmith

​

Aiden noticed most of the crowd back off before an armed man threatened the man threatening him. The enemy of his enemy was his friend, and as the thief looked at the man threatening him and turned, bringing his weapon still to bare against blacksmith's throat, Aiden took a step back. Another fellow, fearless, approached, while the guard captain barked orders. Aiden looked around him and saw the crowd in suspension.


'Thank ye sir' he said to the man who he had met before but didn't remember the name of, his new savior, a term he applied reluctantly.


'How 'bout we do this. Robber man, yer family gets arms, and the guard for their services gets a load free. But the rest of ye who want some, get em, only if ye join the militia!" he shouted to the crowd, with some silence, some head shaking, and some nodding in approval. The thief in front of him lowered his weapon.


"I want a greatsword" he said.


"Yer already holdin' that knife. It's that, or nothin'" Aiden remarked.


WIth that, the man had no choice but to trudge away before an arrest with his new knife.


"Anyone else!? Free weapons if ye join the militia!" he called out. The other merchants went back to selling their goods, and the commotion int he market resumed. He turned to his young apprentice.


"Symeon, give out only the knives. That way the militia has to buy swords. More people in it means more demand" he whispered to the boy. Aiden turned to face the guard captain and his guard.


"If ye want to arrest that man, I've got no problem with that. But we need every man we get for this fight. Thanks to both of you, yer great men" Aiden complimented.


"Say, I wanted to talk to ye about the gratin', both o'ye" he added, facing both men, even though he didn't remember the name of his savior.


"We got this gratin' that's prevcetin' the elves from sailin' into our town through the river. But we can't get our own boats out... what do ye think of gettin' some refugees to work, changin' it into somethin' we can draw up on demand out of the river. Like a sally port. We could take boats after and start raidin' at night" he proposed. The man who approached him earlier looked formidable, but Aiden didn't know him either. He looked at the man, nodding at him as if inviting him to come over and discuss with the three relatively powerful men in front of him. Well no, the guard captain was more than relatively powerful. The key to this defense would be to rally everyone to work as one unit. They were off to a bad start with a robbery just a week after the refugees came in. Aiden was surprised merchants still cared about coin at this point in time. He would need to talk to Symeon later - to accept only food.

 

[Anaxial]

As the refugee skittered off, Letholdus turned to his Captain and gave him a short nod. Letholdus tucked his spear into his armpit and leaned on the weapon slightly.


"Nothin' now, Cap'n. just a bit of rabble rousing th' locals." He said with a smile, his mustache curling pleasantly up to his nose as he did so. However, it was ultimately up to the Captain on whether or not the refugee was to be arrested. Letholdus turned back to the Blacksmith and examined his weapons on display.


"These are some fine weapons, the Milita'd be lucky t' get 'em." he said examining a sword. He listened to the boy's proposal and nodded in silent silent agreement. "Seems like a solid plan t'me. Tho' that's up to th' Cap'n here. Whaddya say Cap'n?"

 

[SSgt Goodrich]

The mercenary was silent as the refugee fled, but in the last few moments of his retreat, the mercenary stuck out the end of his halberd and caught the front of the refugee's foot, causing him to trip. The refugee struck the ground hard, busting his nose on the gravel of the town square and a small chuckle left the mercenary's throat as he scrambled up, nose in hand, and continued his retreat.


He held his weapon close to his chest again and approached the group of men, picking out the guard captain, and giving a slight nod to the man at power.


"Good afternoon, gentleman, it'd be a shame if I was interrupting something, but I must speak with the blacksmith fellow."


With this said, he gazed again at the Aiden, his eyes the same as when he first approached the square. They were fierce, and seemed to pierce like the halberd he wields; a pressured gradient that seemed to only increase its power with the longer he stared.


"You have offered to arm any individual who joins the militia with standard sword and shield--a fair bargain--but I ask you this: In exchange for my service to the militia... Would you hammer out the kinks in my armor and arms? I have seen many battles--"


He gave a quick glance at the guard captain as he states, "Experience has a value of its own," before he returns his unrelenting gaze to the blacksmith.


"--and I would much rather see my own arms and armor repaired than to be armed standard issue. I am not standard issue."


@Archie


@Anaxial


@Warb

 

[AshenLily]

Lindliel Cyleste Rayne


By now, Lindliel was certainly a criminal among her own kind. Defying orders given by her ruler, in the name of the God she served would likely cost her life. If she were to be captured, of course.


The water from the river felt cool as she knelt, and cupped a handful of it, marveling at its clarity, before splashing it over her face. Standing, she replaced her dark teal cloak over her shoulders, and fastened the elegant golden ties securely, taking one last cautious look around the clearing.


Lindliel was no stranger to the ways of the Elves. She knew she would be pursued, and knew what her pursuers would look for when tracking her. She'd abstained from creating a fire the previous night, and taken great care not to disturb the foliage surrounding the clearing. No meal had been made, no food eaten, and nothing unpacked from her horse, save a thin cloth to shelter her from the cool night air. Her horse in question, a pure white mare, had been left untied, free to roam through the night; Lindliel now let out a sharp, musical whistle that rang through the forest. While the sound would likely be mistaken by any prying ears for that of one of the many other bird calls that were currently sounding throughout the forest, Cynil would recognize it. It was only a few minutes before the horse entered the clearing, silent as a ghost.


Lindliel effortlessly mounted the mare as she had countless times before, and with only a slight twitch of her foot, ushered the beast onward, toward the city of Acheron. As she rode, she couldn't help but wonder how she would be received. An Elf, especially a Priestess of Halyuk, showing up to the last human stronghold of what would likely be a battle that would set the tone for the rest of the conflict between the Humans and Elves, claiming to have left the Elven forces because of differing view points over Halyuk's teachings.


Dubious at best. Lindliel herself had a hard time believing such a story.


Cresting the hill that marked the end of the regularly patrolled Elven lands, her breath caught, and she pulled Cynil to a stop. "So, the rumors are true." A short distance off, Lindliel could see the city of Acheron, which she found to be notably unimpressive. The land from the hill she was now atop, to the gates of Acheron was barren, completely razed in an effort by the humans to protect what little land they had left. It's not too late to turn back. If I do now, maybe I can convince the others... No. Lindliel knew the choice she had made when she'd left her home, and it was too late to turn back, now. Terrifying though the sight before her was, she'd made her decision. A quick check of her cloak confirmed her ears were fully covered, hopefully to avoid any questions from the patrols that would likely be stationed at the city's entrance, and Lindliel began the long ride over the open plain, toward the gates of Acheron.


(@Anyone in the city, I suppose. Leaving the post a bit open-ended for the possibility of interaction. )
​

 

[Warb]

In response to an elf with a concealed face dropping down in front of the only commander within the city, the guards took the only logical response. Pushing Kurt behind them, they formed a wall of bodies in between the Captain and the (presumed) assassin. With their heater shields forming a solid wall, they readied their swords as they prepared to advance. Their formation was slightly broken up by the Captain shoving past them, saying, "Good disciplin' lads, ya all been obviously keeping up on ya training, always good ta see ya ain't been slacking. However that won't be necessary, this 'uns one a ours." Stopping in front of her, he frowned and continued, "Tho' her sense fer the dramatic hardly makes that obvious."


Clicking his mouth, he says, "Nevertheless I wanted ta talk ta ya, so afta I sort out this business we'll head back ta the barracks." Turning back to the standoff, he realized that it had dissolved while he dealt with Nona. Briefly glancing around in search of the refugee, his frown deepened as he realized the man had run off. Turning back to the blacksmith he nodded his head, saying, "Good idea, but we'll be using the ships to make food runs. We need food more then we need the elves dead. Tell anyone you can find to help that you'll be paid 10 gold crowns per day's worked. I want it done as soon as possible. "


Turning to Letholdus, Kurt addresses him, "Good job stopping another crime, but we can't keep this up. Too many crimes are going on and it could bring Acheron to chaos before we even meet the confederacy face to face." Sighing, Kurt's shoulders briefly sagged as the problems of his village weighed on him more heavily than the zweihander resting on his shoulder. Straightening his shoulders out, he addressed the experienced guardsmen, saying, "I want ya ta git 10 of the militia and patrol th' village with them. I also want ya ta tell 10 militia ta be stationed around the village at the areas that see the most traffic, such as the town square and church. Make sure they're cycled out periodically so they still git their daily training in." His expression grim, Kurt brought out some parchment, a feather pen, and an ink pot. Writing on the paper for a moment, Kurt brought out some wax and spread it out at the bottom of the document. Bringing out a seal of a zweihander in a circle, Kurt pressed it into the bottom of the parchment. Rolling up the paper and wrapping it with a brown ribbon, Kurt hands it to Letholdus and says, "There's th' orders, give them ta the militia. Now if that'll be all, I have business with Nona." Turning to walk back to the barracks, Kurt says as he leaves, "Bring any criminals ta me. I'll sort them out."

 

[SSgt Goodrich]

Hearing his easy militia work plan fade into nothing was upsetting, no doubt, but the introduction of an almost equal paying job was always sweet to Stephen's ears. He smiled underneath his helmet, which remained frozen and emotionless, before he turned to Letholdus. He spoke clearly, but keen ears could hear hints of relaxation.


"You are pretty handy with that spear, stranger, but I question your stance. Holding a spear at such an angle, up and into the shoulder, has no value if the opponent knows you did not have a brace. If the criminal was armed, a quick twist, and maybe a small flesh wound, he could have had your life."


His words, though critical of his style, was humble and soft with no hints of hostility. Goodrich has trained farther North, so he was curious of the Southern style of weapon handling. And to see an old man, just like him, still fighting--he wondered if he was a bit of a legend at these parts.


"The name is Goodrich, if you care to know."


@Anaxial


@Archie


@Warb

 

[MsPolite]

{Co-post between @Ullr and Mspolite}


A young fair elf was riding an elk at top speed throughthe forest, laughing as she felt the wind caress her cheeks. She looks behind her to see her friend and personal guard tailing her. "Ha! Catch me if you can Cufeng!." She teased. Riding faster and faster she saw a branch far ahead, then she got a brilliant idea. The young elf woman lifted herself from her elk putting her feat on the saddle but still holding the reigns. And as she quickly approached the branch she eyed earlier, she jumped arms in the air, Swinging ferociously, then letting go tumbling through the air grabbing anothersturdy branch, and aging swing up landing on her feat on top of the branch. "Carrie to me!" She shouted. Ahawk quickly appeared from the sky perching it's self on the woman's shoulder.


Cufeng whispered to his elk "Faster" as he followed Faelwen, The young princess was as careless as ever riding at full speed through the dense forest. As Faelwen teased Cufeng he couldn't help but crack a small smile then he kicked his elk's back legs ordering it to go in full speed as well, but Cufeng's smile quickly disappeared as the princess stood on top of her saddle Cufeng knew exactly what the princess had in mind and he didn't like it one bit. As Faelwen flipped through branches Cufeng felt like he is going to get a heart attack, only relaxing once the princess finally stopped and stood firmly on one of the branches and called to her hawk Carrie. "I hate it when you do that!" Cufeng said with an angry tone, "A princess shouldn't do that kind of reckless things, how am I to explain to your father that you broke your leg by jumping on branches while riding? Not to mention how I will feel" Cufeng said as he pulled his reigns ordering his elk to stop


beneath the branch Faelwen was standing on.


Fallen grinned a wide smile as she whistles for her great elk to come back. She jumped and tailed into a backflip landing on her saddle. She gave Cufeng a wink. "But I didn't break my leg did I?" She reared her great elk around to come closers to Cufeng. "Oh my dear Cufeng. How long have you know and protected me?" She said grabbing his chin and shaking it like a mother does to a naughty child. "Don't be such a worry wart! And have some fun for once!" She ended with a gentle tap on his nose. "Now let's see if you can even keep up with me!" She threw her arm up silently telling her hawk Carrie to fly ahead. Then smacking her elks rump playfully exclaiming "get boy!" Laughing all the while. The elk left into a sprint leaving Cufeng and his elk in the dust for now.


As Faelwen finished teasing Cufeng and ran off ordering her hawk to fly ahead, he was angry but not in a bad way, he even cracked a smile again. Cufeng kicked his elk's rear legs and whispered to him "Lets show her who we are boy", and the elk galloped ahead. It took Cufeng and his elk about half a minute to finally catch up to Faelwen's elk "You do know its my job to worry right? Especially since you don't seem to ever do that." Cufeng said as he reached Faelwen with a smile on his face, for as much as he tried to stay in character as her guard he was having too much fun to be able to hide it, Cufeng took his job seriously but its hard to take your job seriously when you are with Faelwen.


Faelwen was surprised to see how fast he caught up. But that would not denter her determination. "Please Cufeng, you worry like a wet nurse. And I don't need a baby sitter!" She shouted of be heard above the wind rushing past. Again she lifted herself. "Since it's your job to protect me catch me!" She yelled throwing herself towards Cufeng. This was little more than a trust exercise that they've a little more than hundred times.


Cufeng curse under his breath when Faelwen lifted her self from her saddle again, then shifted to hold the reigns with one hand and the other he spread in order to catch Faelwen as she threw herself at him while bracing his body to take the hit of catching her. Faelwen didn't miss, she jumped straight towards Cufeng's and catching her was easy enough all he had to do is brace his body to stop her momentum and then secure her by hugging her with his free hand so she wont fall, after she done it so many times Cufeng became quite good at catching her mid ride. Cufeng lifted his body so he no longer sat on the saddle but stood on stirrups and moved his body back, in order to let Faelwen sit on the saddle then he let go of her and put both hands on the reigns again "Do you have to do that every time?" Cufeng said trying to sound mad but failing at it, then the thought that came to his mind every time Faelwen did that exact thing so many times before came back again "If her father was here to see this I would be as good as dead" Cufeng thought to himself then smiling as he thanked Halyuk (god) that her father wasn't here.


"Of course I do!" Faelwen replied "it's our little tradition. And either way, I'm sure my father would give you a medal and a promotion for saving me." Faelwen leaned back Into her protectors arms safe and secure. She whistled for her elk to come back to her. As her Great elk neared Faelwen slid off Cufeng's mount and lifted herself on hers. Carrie, Faelwen's hawk also flew back and perched itself on an antler of the elk... Faelwen regained her composure as she knew they were nearing the siege camp. It has been 5 days since Faelwen and her loyal guard departed for the front, and they would be arriving today. She would assume command and show her father and all politicians who doubted her that she would be worthy of the title Chieftain.


Cufeng was surprise as Faelwen mentioned her father "She can read minds now to?" he asked himself, then not wanting Faelwen to see his surprise He laughed and said "I think he would rather have my head on a spike than give me a medal for it, besides if I get a promotion then who is going to be here to catch you?" Cufeng said as Faelwen slid off to her own mount.


They were close to the camp now, and Faelwen knew that as well. Cufeng could see it on her face, she was aching to prove herself on the battlefield. While he had no doubt she could do it he did have doubts about what ever or not the other elves would.

 

[Archie]

@Anaxial


@Warb


@SSgt Goodrich


Aiden listened intently when the other men were speaking and steered clear of the tops of any compensation for anyone doing him a major favor. He watched as Kleinnermann gave orders, and figured that by using the militia for patrols, the captain was saving the experienced blood for more important missions. The man introduced himself as Goodrich, and made an offer.


"Of course" Aiden replied, nodding.


"Join up, you look like a man wit' experience in killin'. I'll fix yer things and give ya somethin' new. I owe it to the town" Aiden said. His attention turned to the two guardsmen after a momentary pause.


"Say... any o the three o you used to buildin' or whippin' peole to a job?" he asked. Ideas were flashing through his head of a way that they may yet survive their upcoming cataclysm.


"That gratin' coverin' the river. We could sail boats out o' it if we could draw the metal bars up. Right now, they block the elves from gettin' in, but if we could change it all up, I could lead that effort and in 3 days with two hundred we could build gates on both sides of the river, sail boats up em', and raid the elves from behind" he proposed. It was a random idea. And a random moment of conversation. But with Aiden, when he felt like he was onto something, he never stopped.

 

[Archon]

Turin squinted under the shining gaze of the sun, as he adjusted his position into one of more comfort; whilst most elven soldiers were busy doing things of use, the one-man army was busy relaxing upon a makeshift hammock, crafted from the skin of a white horse. He hadn't felt like training recently, he'd always been alone, and enjoyed the solitude like no other. Yet how could he enjoy solitude in a war camp of this scale? No forest remained; which left him with no options to train, if he couldn't train - he would relax. It certainly had its perks, being a hired mercenary with a reputation. Anyone beside the person who hired him couldn't give him orders... Ironically, Tunir still had no idea who had hired him.


Of course, even relaxing was difficult; especially since one particularly annoying elf couldn't stop screaming at his soldiers, Turin had never held a position of command; but Aglandir had, Aglandir was worshiped as a God by his own soldiers, yet this elf treated them like animals. With an almost bored sigh, he stretched up and climbed off the hammock onto his own two feet - eyes examining the surroundings - the majority of the elves were running around, doing something of productivity; or getting yelled at by higher classes. Then - in the distance - were two others riding elk nearing the camp. He'd heard of those two, the princess and her 'bodyguard', it was rumor among the soldiers the two were more lovers than nobility and guard. Though Tunir hardly ever associated himself with the common soldier, let alone their gossip.


With boredom sinking in, and a lack of other options coming to mind; the Blademaster decided to fetch his own elk, and see how close to the city he could get. After all, he was bored and had little else better to do, a lesser man would never dare do something so foolish, a lesser man would shake at the thought. Tunir was not a lesser man, he was the greatest elf alive... Or he would be, Aglandir's blood ran through his veins, the blood of greatness.


Without questioning his course of action; he took mount upon his pale white elk - its coat glistening like diamonds in the sun - before with a gentle kick, it took sprint towards the great city of Acheron. Tunir wondered if he would find anything interesting, or if anyone would follow. He hadn't ruled out assassination attempts on his life, he was hated among the nobility after all.


@Anyone whose outside Acheron and wants to follow, or anyone inside Acheron who wants to ride out.

 

[SSgt Goodrich]

Goodrich turned his head to the blacksmith before the other fighter spoke, thinking to quickly address the blacksmith Aiden.


"I will leave my arms and armor with you then, but I insist you oath to not return it to me in public. I shall return for it in 24 or 48 hours time."


He gave a small nod to the man, pleased at how respectful he was and how easily he offered to repair his gear. Goodrich noted it in his mind.


"As for your plan, I think it is grand, but would require more than 200. If the elves find us, the last thing we need is an open breach for them to charge through. I offer that we have 200 laborers and about 100 militia watch the crowd, another fifty militia thrown about the pastures to act as scouts and deterrents. I can lead the pasture militia if needed."


Pleased with this new modified plan, he actively set himself up for a job. That was worth more than the repairs.


@Archie


@Anaxial


@Warb

 

[Warb]

As Lindliel approached the gates she would see the hastily erected stone wall protecting Acheron from becoming another victim of genocide. Over the top peek soldiers, armed with new bows and young armor. These soldiers would warily glance at the new traveler, but would quickly return their eyes to scanning the hill. One refugee is hardly a threat to the entire village and they've seen the like of her many times over in the past weeks. When Lindliel reaches the closed wooden and metal gate a man would peak over the wall, his armor much older then the other soldier's. In a terse town he asks, "What's ya business 'ere?"


@AshenLily

 

[SilentSir]

(Co-op between Myself, @Ullr & @MsPolite )


Valerian mulled over his plan with his chosen few. He knew that moving to the rear lines of the city would be difficult, especially since there were traitor elves keeping watch on the walls. He felt the bile in his throat as he thought of his own kin going against their sacred values. It disgusted him. He pushed the thoughts from his mind, and turned back to the plan. Just then, he heard a great clamoring outside. Valerian abandoned his planning and went to the center of the camp. Two newcomers had arrived at the camp with an elk, a young elven woman, and what appeared to me her bodyguard. He smiled. "You there, leave the elk with the stable master. Form up with the rest of the battalion." However, before he could turn back, the voice of the woman on the elk stopped him. "I will be doing no such thing. I am in command here, as of right now. My name is Faelwen, and this is Cufeng." She gestured to the elf with her. Valerian turned back to the girl, and bellowed at her. "What right do you have to challenge my authority? I have been at this line for weeks, directing the men. We don't know you, you could be a spy for all we know. As of now, I am in command, and you will take orders from me. Is. That. Clear. Whelp?"


Faelwen dismounted the elk, Cufeng following her. She moved directly in front of he commander. "What is your name, commander?" Valerian stretched tall. "My name is Valerian Dragonwood, commander of this warband. If you don't wish to be thrown in the stockade, form up with the-" Valerian staggered back as Faelwen switftly punched him. He spat blood, and smiled. Faelwen was seething. "How DARE you threaten a princess! I'll have your ranks pulled!" Faelwen's eyes widened as Valerian drew his sword, approaching her. Valerian called out to the entire camp. "Listen here warriors. We have a challenger for my command! According to the laws of Ancient Times, this will be settled in a Trail by Combat! If the challenger wins, I shall relinquish my command!" His next line sent chills down Faelwen's spine. "However, if the challenger fails to defeat me, she will be sent to the front line, in preparation for our first assault!"


The battalion cleared a space for the two fighters, slowly encircling each other. Valerian adopted a low stance, and slashed at her legs. He wanted to test her for a moment, to see if she was worthy of being called a warrior.