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Fantasy Union of the Six (Alternate) IC

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shadowz1995

Amoeba of Wisdom
Roleplay Type(s)
Welcome to the fantastical world of Linhael (Lin-Hi-eel). A world permeated with the forces of magic. Whose history stretches back many, many millennia ago. Whose past is as bloody and twisted as it is long.


The reason for this is because of the primordial powers that shaped Linhael into what it is today. They are known as "The Divine Fonts". Springs of power that make up the source of magic in all of Linhael.


The Font of Flame


The Spring of Water


The Eye of Lightning


The Precipice of Light


The Grove of Earth


Even before written history, these Fonts are what kept the world in a peaceful state of balance despite the chaotic, infantile beings that existed within their grace. Among these "children however, were some who were particularly attuned to the powers of the world. One in each respective region where the points of power were the strongest. These beings became able to directly absorb the power The Divine Fonts and in turn, use that power to usher in a new age of civilization.


These beings were known as "The Primals" and they wielded power that could shake the foundation of Linhael to it's very core. For the divine power blanketed the world and kept it in balance but its power was never focused and used. The Primals were able to use the full, uninhibited might of the divine elements to fulfill their every whim. Each Primal built kingdoms centered around their sources of power and as their civilizations grew, so did their desire to expand, eventually encroaching on each others territory.


The inevitable occurred and as expected, destructive wars broke out that threatened to tear the world apart. This cycle continued every few generations. The descendants of the primals would eventually forget the lessons their ancestors left behind and they would wage calamitous wars that plunged the world into chaos.


The casualties were always in the millions and the very terrain would always be left shifted and scarred in ways that no person could foresee. Yet, there was never any clear victor once the dust settled. It seemed that even despite the fact that impressionable mortals, who were slaves to their whims and desires, wielded the power of The Divine Fonts, the world was still somehow kept in a state of balance. Some speculated that the royalty of the respective kingdoms, the descendants of The Primals, were essentially extensions of the will of the world itself. Though they themselves may not be aware of that fact.


Even though many millenia passed with this vicious cycle of catastrophic warfare and peaceful tranquillity, the world did not break as many feared it one day would.


At least, until the balance was disrupted.


Silently, in the shadows of the primal kingdoms, a force had been secretly amassing power. Centuries worth of planning, strategizing, and strength gathering came to a front. This secret "sixth" kingdom tossed the world into a state of complete chaos and ruin, plunging the other kingdoms into a calamitous war that has lasted over 100 years. Centuries of continuous warfare has claimed the lives of millions and has caused a deep seated hatred to take route within the hearts of the people. A hatred so deep that some are beginning to believe that destroying the enemy is the ultimate goal. No matter what the cost.


Even if life ceases to exist in Linhael because of it.
 
Empress A.Patricia Une
Oceanius Empire, Markovia
"To wit, we have finished all rebellion suppression operations and restored order within the recently liberated Lebenstraum region in the former Earth Kingdom. The aid your Blackscales have given us has once again proven them to be an admirable force, Your Grace." The young General proudly finished his report with a respectful bow. Patricia's gaze was locked on the large map laid out on the table. A few carved wooden chess pieces were placed among it to represent troop deployment and areas plagued by bandits, invaders, rebels, or maybe all 3. Gods know that she has been to such regions during more turbulent times. She slowly rose from her seat and reached out to delicately pick up a black rook piece.

"That is wonderful news indeed, General Rein." Patricia rolled the rook piece around in her hand before carefully placing it back onto the map. "There is much work to be done before true peace and order can be restored within our new borders. A brand new dawn is rising on the Empire and I shall require your loyalty and dedication in ensuring that it will be a bright one."

"Of course, Your Grace!" A rather excitable, mousy looking Navy Captain piped up before quickly settling back into her seat. "I mean... You can ensure that the Imperial Navy will do all it can to support Your Grace in leading the Empire to a bright future."

"Of course, Captain Merle. And I thank you for representing my husband in his absence. How goes the Naval Campaign?" Patricia asked the Captain, suppressing the urge to smile upon witnessing the young selkie's energy.

"All is calm, Your Grace. The Admiral sends his love and an apology for his delay. He said he had to extend his patrol by a week. It seems a particularly hardy bunch of pirates saw fit to attack our shipping lanes." Captain Merle reported. The Empress could only sigh in mild annoyance at her husband's overzealous, and somewhat admirable, dedication in hunting pirates. And the fact that he told the Captain to specifically say that he was sending his love in a War Council.

"I think we can stop here for today. General Rein, I expect the Southern Regions to be quieter for the rest of the month. And for my Grun Company to be relieved of duty, I will be needing them soon. Sir Reigan, I will approve your requests for more recruits and equipment but I expect them to be trained to be equal to your best Aerial Knights. Captain Merle, send a Messenger Raven to Admiral Talver. Tell him that I will be praying for his success and that his children miss him. As for the rest of you, I'll be going through your reports this evening. This Council is ajourned. Ave Oceanius."

"Ave Oceanius!" With one final salute, the Council meeting ended and most of the room's occupants collected their belongings, politely bowed towards Patricia and made their leave. The Empress paid them little of her attention as her mind was elsewhere. Has it really been a month since her father's passing? The Empire was hers now. Hers to command. Hers to protect. And hers to change. As she mulled over her thoughts, the sound of the door being pushed open followed by rapid footfalls pulled her back to reality. Just in time to see a young girl throw herself at her.

"Mother! Oh it was so boring waiting for you!" The girl, Princess Atra Jacelyn Une, giggled as she gave Patricia a hug. With a soft smile, Patricia gently ruffled her daughter's snow white hair.

"Well you certainly don't sound too bored." Patricia hummed, looking up in time to see her loyal Royal Bodyguard and closest friend, Overseer Sigdriffa, standing by the open door with a seemingly blank expression.

"I'm sorry if my little Princess is being a tad troublesome, Overseer." Patricia chuckled, knowing full well that Driffy is feeling a little annoyed with the Princess's antics.

Kokurai Gaisgeach Kokurai Gaisgeach
 
Deshiwitat L. Rubdich
Outskirts of Elysium

The resonance of steel crashing against steel filled the air over the roaring of the crowd. Ogres, minotaurs, demons... all manner of monsters were gathered around the display of combat. The smell of blood and sweat was thick. The heat coming off of the combatants was stifling and yet, only one of the two seemed to be struggling. A large, strong cyclops by the name of Vesineer had been forced to his knees. The cyclops's body was littered with dozens of shallow cuts that wept crimson rivers freely and openly. Whoever had done it had obviously been taking their time in dismantling the one-eyed warlord. Standing at a staggering 10 feet tall, his opponent had been almost half his size and yet, he was seeing eye to eye with him now in a very literal sense. His energy had been sapped in its entirety and not due to any magic. No, he was being toyed with. Made an example of.

He should have listened. Vesineer had pride to match his size and herculean strength but he knew something was off when he laid eyes on the man before him. An instinctive, primal desire to flee filled his body the moment they had locked eyes for the first time and it was only now that he realized why. Vesineer was hunched over on his knees and while they were the same height at the moment, it seemed like the demonic opponent was infinitely larger than he had initially perceived him. The shame of defeat and chill of fear both set into the Cyclops's muscles and bones, rendering him unable to stand anymore. His body was taxed and his spirit broken. He could only stare at the man that had now taken everything from him.

"I gave you an option, Vesineer. Now, you must deal with the consequences."

The voice was not particularly gruff or malevolent like most monsters. It was a deep, almost velvet-like voice, laced with confidence and power. Not one typically associated with the Warlord of an army of monsters.

"Wait!" The Cyclops begged. "I- I can still make amends! Please! Me and my men will follow you. Just as you asked! We won't ever betray you and will serve you loyally. I swear it on the honor of the Broken Legion! Please!"

This caused the grey-skinned demon before him to narrow his eyes in what seemed like seething contempt.
"Yes. Your men will follow me and serve me loyally. Only because you and your generals will no longer be alive to tell them otherwise."

"No please! I swear it on everything! I won-"

"Be thankful you don't have children or a lover, Vesineer. They would be perishing along with you."

"Lord Ru- No! KING Rubdich! I beg of you! I beg of you! Spare my life! Please! I didn't know of your power!"

"I'm aware. Not many in this world are aware of it. But don't worry. That will all change soon. And your men will help accomplish just that."

Vesineer opened his mouth to protest once more but the sound never left his chest. Instead, it was replaced a repulsive, squelching that signified the end of the monster's life. A claw-tipped hand had been shoved through the entirety of his skull, blood and brain matter decorating the owner's hand. With an equally disgusting squelch, Lord Rubdich wrenched his hand free from the now-hollowed-out skull of Vesineer and turned to the crowd of soldiers that observed them. Deshwitat spoke softly but with enough authority that it sounded deafening. "Bring them to me."

------

In mere moments, five more monsters were dragged to the arch-demon's feet. Their hands and feet were bound in chains and it looks like they had been roughed up by their recent captors before being presented to the terrifying azure gaze of the Demon King, Deshwitat L. Rubdich.

"I gave your Warlord a chance to not only join me but also to defend himself in one-on-one combat should he refuse. It's unfortunate that things turned out this way gentlemen. All of you could have continued to live and prosper under my command but the pride of Vesineer has cost you your lives." The generals.... former generals were trembling in sheer terror. A gesture that was mimicked by most of the now silent crowd. Lord Rubdich had suppressed his true power to fight Vesineer on a more even playing field, resulting to a entirely physical duel. Deshwitat was at a disadvantage this way but it only served to prove his prowess. Now, however, he no longer kept his presence in check and the sheer magnitude of his strength was both awe-inspiring and horrifying. The generals were too shaken to even offer a word of protest. That was good. Deshwitat found begging to be somewhat distasteful. "For what it's worth. I am sorry my brothers. But this is the way it must be."

In the literal blink of an eye, darkness swallowed the trembling generals in their entirety. Not a single peep of shock was allowed to escape from their lips before the void of Deshwitat's power claimed them in its shadowy maw.

Seconds past and the shadows dissipated. A pool of blood where they once laid was all that remained of them, their flesh, blood, and bones having been shredded to such an extent that only liquid remained.


Shining, cobalt irises now examined the fearful crowd with an unreadable, stone-like expression. "All of you obey me now. Betray my trust or..." With a nod to one of his generals, a small group of roughly 30 monsters of varying species were brought bound and gagged before the shadowy arch-demon, eyes wide with terror. "Fail and don't meet my expectations.... Well...." With a small wave of his wrist the shadows under the prisoners sprung to life in the form of horrible spikes that impaled the restrained men and women from multiple directions, soaking some of the members of the crowd with a blood spray. ".....I am a patient and forgiving demon. But do not fail me repeatedly. I have no use for dead weight in my army. You will serve proudly as my soldiers.. or as the fodder for my power. I hope that is understood."

His question was met with silence. No even nodded their acknowledgment.

"Good. Rally at the western side of camp once dusk ends. We will be performing a supply raid on the Light Walkers under the cover of nightfall. You are all dismissed."

-----

Everyone had dispersed and Deshwitat sat in his private tent, alone. A heavy sigh left the demon's pale lips as the day's events played in his mind. The memories of the recently executed played in his mind on loop. The reason for his sigh wasn't guilt or that the memories caused him pain. They weren't powerful enough to do that. It was that he was becoming accustomed to the torment. To the raging whispers in his mind whenever he bolstered his strength. The very idea that one could even get used to something like that frightened him.

But he had no choice. Large groups of monsters like this listened to only one thing. Power. The kingdoms would only stop hunting them and recognize them as an independent and sovereign nation once he demonstrated the power to do so. The power to rip their territories away from them and claim them as his own. The power to make them doubt whether a conflict with him and his people was worth the risk. Power. Power. Power. That was all it boiled down to. So, for now, it was all that mattered. Power... and his family. Nothing else. Not yet. If Desh was successful in his campaign, he looked forward to the new challenges it would bring because ultimately, it would be challenges to establish peace and lay down roots for his people. The final goal of the Broken Legion. To become whole.
 
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Sigridrifa Karà "Driffy" Wælcyrie
Oceanius Empire, Markovia

Sigridrifa stood and watched as the little snow white of a girl named Jacelyn joyfully embraces her mother, She knew that the meeting was long and that Patricia kept Jacelyn waiting. During the waiting, she kept Jacelyn's boredom at bay by answering every question thrown at her by the little girl that calls her Aunt usually questions revolving around her son. Despite of this, her emotionless facade was cracked by the innocent and sweet little girl as she's feeling a little annoyed by the antics of this cute and adorable little ball of energy that is Princess Jacelyn.

"It is alright, My Lady Patricia." Sigridrifa gave a small yet meaningful smile before returning to her expressionless facade.

"Lady Jacelyn has been inquiring me about the whereabouts of my son as well as asking about his day and how is he doing. I tried my best in answering the barrage of questions to the best of my knowe-"

Suddenly, the halls ringed the sounds of a very familiar voice of a man. Sigridrifa turned to look around and was greeted with a loving kiss and embrace from a man, a man that she learned to love, Captain Gerhard Flynn Bertholdt, the Aerial Knight's daredevil of an ace and her loving husband. Her emotionless facade was shattered the moment their lips made contact and an embrace was made, her cheeks were red, her usual dull eyes now wide open. It happened within seconds before it was followed by a voice of a young boy.

"Mother, we're back. flying with the Hippogryphs was exciting!" The Little boy said with joy.

"A-Ah... Flynn, Charles... I'm with the Empress P-Patricia r-right now..." Sigridrifa sheepishly said as she motions towards the Empress and her Princess.

The Aerial Knight looked behind Sigridrifa and bowed at the glorious sight of the Empress of Oceanius and her blessed daughter whilst holding the Overseer's hand.

"Pardon me for my and my son's actions, my Empress. I can't describe how much I love my Beloved Valkyrie that I forgot my manners infront of the most outstanding and glorious Empress of Oceanius." Flynn said as the Overseer looked away, her face flushed with red from the sweet words said by the knight.


Wandering Grim Hollow Wandering Grim Hollow
 
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Kieran Jarvinen
Southern Region of Oceanius

Swords clashing in the distance accompanied the sound of fire crackling. Some of his men slept, others were up to keep guard. Some continued their training but Kieran and a select few had found themselves huddled around a campfire. Snowfall had provided them with a white sheet of perspiration covering the land that had surrounded them but not enough to make marching equivalent to grueling task. Ash, blood and winter greens made for an interesting conglomerate of smells but it had been nothing out of the ordinary for many of the elf's men. Adorned in fur jackets to cover their armor, there had been no weather or scenario in which the Grun company was unable to handle out tasks provided by the Empress.

A tattooed right hand reached forward amidst the silence of the five, belonging to the body that had commanded these soldiers. Kieran’s digits wrapped around a rather small stick that had been positioned above their makeshift fire. At the opposite end of his hand was a fish, which had been cooked slightly longer than most enjoyed it. The light provided by the flames was the only illumination the crew had gotten with the exception of the cave’s opening. Finding nooks and crannies in mountain sides to protect themselves from whipping winds was a habit far too common for this group.


“How long have we been out here, pretending to be peacekeepers?” A gruff voice asked from the other side of the flames. Given that Grun company had around a hundred and fifty men, only thirty had been hovering around the southern part of Oceanius to make sure there had been no uprisings.

“It has been twenty-nine days. We’ve fought in four battles.” The vice-overseer responded as he guided the side of the fish to his lips and took a bite from its flesh. Of course, like anyone who knew how to survive off of the wilderness, he was sure to completely gut it before taking cooking preparations. This did not stop Kieran from spitting out a small bone that his teeth had captured, but this was nothing out of the ordinary.

“How long have you been fighting?” Another, much younger-sounding voice had replied off-topic. He was sitting next to the larger, rather impatient gentleman who had since taken a bite out of his own fish. “That is actually a very good question.” Kieran continued eating as the group sat in silence for another minute or two. Then the leader placed the half-eaten salmon carcass on top of one of the wooden logs surrounding the fire.

“It has to be around forty-five years, maybe fifty, at this point.”

The young man who had initially asked looked up from his meal, blinking a few times before clearing his throat. “I’m sorry. I must have misheard you. Did you say forty-five years?” Kieran did not bother to return the man’s stare.

“I fought in the Wallochian Coup. How do you assume I became a vice-overseer otherwise?” He asked as he looked up to the newest member of Grun company that belonged to the thirty men that had been campaigning in the south.

The soldier chuckled slightly, lifting a hand to rub the back of his head.
“I guess I dunno. What are vice-overseers?” This was an unfortunate question to ask. The response provided by the other men sitting around that circle was a choir of groans and moans, as if to signify the boy’s lack of knowledge was something that was trying to their own mental psyche.

“To put it short, I was one of the few survivors that saw Oceanius’ victory. At that time I was one of the newest soldiers in Grun. I was not allowed to fight alongside many others because of my race. I am not originally from Oceanius, therefore I am not qualified to a lot of the same pleasantries as the natural-born. It is because of Your Highness that I am able to continue fighting. Without her recognizing my strength I would not be your immediate commanding officer.”

“Wait, you’re not… Like the rest of us?” The boy asked with a mouthful of fish.

“No.” Kieran’s hands lifted to the sides of his hood to let it down. This did not only provide a clearer view of the platinum head-of-hair adorning the leader, but rather pointy ears as well. “I’m Elven by birth.” For a moment, there was silence. The others sitting around the campfire had been well-aware of this fact but it was not something that was often spoken about.

“I guess it explains why you look like you’re twenty. Just how old are you?”

“I was born around the same time your great grandfather was, I suppose.” Kieran chuckled just as a cloaked man rode into the cave on horseback. In response to this, the group of men all rose quickly from their seats with their swords drawn as the newcomer climbed off of his horse. Only their leader remained sitting, knowing full-well who it was that had graced them with his appearance.

“Ave Oceanius, Cassius.” The elf continued smiling as he rose to his feet. “At ease.” He warned his men as he made his way around them and extended an arm to be greeted by the man’s hand grasping his forearm.

“Ave Oceanius, brother. Ran into a few of your own out there that let me know of your location. I am under obligation to let you know that you have been relieved of your duty here in the south.” From behind the hood of Cassius was a smile of his own. He and Kieran had been fighting together in Grun company for well over ten years at this point. Both men had recognized the talents and strengths belonging to the other, as well as their weaknesses.

“Aye.” Kieran responded, looking back at his men with a nod.

“Time to go home.”
 
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Otrygg walked down the halls of the Oshus castle, the faint noise of the Forges being just heard above the soft click of his and his party's boots on the tiled floor. "Troops report of a small Oceanius military party on our northern border. Not more than thirty men and not properly equipped for mountaineering. Most likely nothing more than a patrol that forgot where Oceanius ends and Oshus begins."

"I don't care what they could be, you make sure they don't go any further than what they've gotten. And what of the fortifications? How is that coming along?"

"The first set of trenches have been dug and work on potential positions for our artillery has begun. Everything is progressing as scheduled, my King."

"Good, good."

At that time they had reached the throne room, where Queen Caralyss was already sitting upon her throne, though the throne was more a hammock to accommodate for her greatly different physiology. She had been whispering to a small male Hysh when the dwarf king entered, and shoo'd him off as the king approached. "What was all that about then?" Otrygg asked as he ascended the steps to his throne.

"Securing negotiations with Oceanius and confirming the location of the Broken Legion." Was the nonchalant answer.

If he had been drinking something, Otrygg most certainly would have spat it out at the news. "Negotiations for what, and why?" he growled from behind his beard, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Information from Oceanius that you may like. In exchange for how to make rudimentary repeating fire arms, they might just be willing to relinquish one of their guarded secrets. And we will be speaking with the leader of the Broken Legion. He is in Elysium, and who knows when we will be getting this opportunity again."

"No, I'm not talking to either of them. I'm not agreeing to that trade, and I'd rather see the Broken Legion scattered across no man's land, with another barrage sent for good measure."

"The message has already been sent, Otrygg, Oceanius will receive the request for trade and will be attending a demonstration of the firearms. And you will be accompanying me to the Broken Legion's encampment. Unless you'd rather see a woman off into a den of monsters all by herself." All this was said with a cold confidence, knowing full well how Otrygg would take it.

Growling in response, he scoffed into his beard, but didn't argue any further. And once the daily ritual of talking with Clan Leaders and Nest Mothers was done, an airship dubbed Mother would ascend into the sky and head south into Elysium, and towards the Broken Legion.
 
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Many "normal" folk, fear monsters. Demons, trolls, ogres, and many more "creatures born of sin" fit into the category of "monster". They all wear the same labels: undesirable, unwanted, untrustworthy, evil, disgusting, the titles go on. To "normal" people, "monsters" are the "others." What those people don't know, is that the "others" live very similar lives to those that live comfortably in a kingdom they call home. The Broken Legion is built on a vision that these "undesirables" might finally establish their own place in the world, but it will not be given, it will have to be taken. Taken from those who refuse to see these broken creatures as more than just "monsters" used as antagonistic characters in the stories mothers tell to threaten their children to sleep. This perspective toward monsters has been passed from parent to child for centuries, as a result the truth was lost and replaced by myths and rumors. Now these "monsters" are beginning to rise from the very dirt they were shoved into by the boot of "normal" society. What they dont know, is that by doing so they have sewn a seed that will bear the fruit of revenge. The everlasting fight for a chance at a fair life is being carried on by the King of the Broken Legion, Deshwitat Rubdich. He is the face of this movement, this overdue liberation from the shackles of judgement and oppression, and many look up to him. Including his own daughter, who fights for their shared cause in bringing justice to the damned and forsaken. She too carries the same burden as her father, maybe not as heavily, but if they don't reach equality within the King's lengthy lifetime, she will (potentially) inherit the responsibility.

Once again Noblesse finds herself at another one of her father's demonstrations. A large crowd had opened into a circle, surrounding him and a fairly large cyclops in the middle. Crashing swords is a familiar sound when your father is....well...who he is. Noblesse stood watch in the front, her posture straight and tall, hands crossed at her lightly armored chest, her face looking unamused except for one slightly cocked eyebrow. She didn't move an inch nor a muscle while the rest of the crowd behind her cheered and rallied with thundering voices over the symphony of clamoring steel. The scene was quickly growing grim, the sun began its descent and in contrast the warm glow of surrounding torches and a camp fire in the distance started their ascension, stretching the shadows of the bystanders and the two lone dancers in the middle. Heterochromic eyes bounced back and forth from the cyclops to the King, not for entertainment but more for assessment. Watching her father fight was always a lesson, and after the towering cyclops had finally fallen to his knees Noblesse scoffed and cracked a sly smirk at the end result of his numerous mistakes. Noblesse knew her father well enough to see that he had put minimal (if any) effort into this duel...if it could fairly be called that. This fight was a power play, and it was about to be known. The crowd fell silent, and for a brief moment all that could be heard was the crackle of flame and a sleepy wind as the sun fell further. The cyclops' cry for mercy broke the silence, his voice quivered and shook as he begged for his life. Even Noblesse looked down on the defeated beast from where she stood, she was shorter than almost everyone that gathered for the speculation, and yet she raised her head in judgement and her eyes moved to look at her father. After a few exchange of words, the King thrusted his hand forward and ended his opponent's life.

Just like the cyclops, the sun had finally closed its one eye behind a mountain's edge, its shadow shrouded the encampment. It was almost poetic. Noblesse took a deep breath and exhaled as five of the now-dead cyclops' generals were brought to the center of the circle. With another intimidating speech, the band of five disappeared quickly in her father's hungry shadows. As painful was it was to watch, Noblesse had to keep her composure, just like her father. She released another held in breath, quietly and slowly, refusing to release her gaze. If she didn't watch, why should the others? She was probably King Rubdich's greatest example, and she knew it. So, in order to help uphold her father's respect among his followers, she too must take part in speculating the actions being unfolded in front of her. Thirty more followers of the deceased were brought forward. The King's daughter grew anxious, she closed her eyes and tilted her head from left to right, cracking the bones in her neck. One of her father's armored guards beside her slightly turned his head to look at Noblesse's sudden movements from the corner of his eye. Her less than emotionless expression, the constant sighs, cracking her neck? He couldn't help but wonder, "Is she bored?" It was quite the opposite, she was growing fidgety, restless. Her father spoke up again, and Noblesse straightened her stance. In mere seconds the thirty lives presented before them vanished. Hushed murmurs and low whisperings scattered in the wind above the audience behind her. The young demoness looked up to her father, he seemed.....bothered. Maybe not to the untrained eye, but as his daughter, who's spent so much time around him, there were several signals of distress. Finally, the little mistress of shadow broke down that plain-faced wall, and her brows furrowed with concern. A rare sight indeed. Desh announced final instructions to prepare for a raid, and dismissed his gathered crowd of followers. Was he dismissing them or himself?

Noblesse released her arms and dropped them to her sides, she turned around and watched the soldiers disperse and talk amongst themselves while they returned to their previous positions to work at a faster pace now that nightfall was practically here. Noblesse looked up at the sky - on one side, incoming darkness, on the other, the last bits of smoldering, golden rays pouring from behind the mountain side. There isn't much time now. Even the black silhouette of birds rushed back to their homes, trying to beat the pitch black that was inevitably coming for them. Muddied boots finally moved from their spot and made way through the dirt and toward the King's lavish tent. Using one arm, Noblesse pushed past the loose flaps of the entrance, and poked her head in,"Father?" With out waiting for an invitation, Noblesse stepped in, "I hope Im not bothering you," she started, her voice light, airy, and a tad bit raspy from the dry air. Suddenly being behind closed doors meant she could let her previous public appearance melt away and revert back to her bubbly, playful self when in the presence of just her father. She sheepishly put her hands behind her back, playing with the ends of her long white hair that draped past the small of her back and made its way to dangle above her hips. Her eyes swept across the room and spotted a pitcher with three unused chalices on a small table not too far from her. She gasped and quickly hurried over to pour herself and her father a cup of... what ever it was that he kept filled in the pitcher. "I-I just...wanted to say that...I think you made and effective impression today." The sound of the liquid pouring filled the room after she paused, "Not that you needed reassurance, or anything, I mean, you must know that you're great and all. O-or maybe you did, either way I felt like it had to be said." She looked over her shoulder, to her father behind her,"Of course, it didn't have to be, I think your speeches speak for themselves, really," she turned back around to fill the second cup and laughed nervously, "Goodness, there I go rambling again, forgive me." Noblesse spun on her heels and forced a smile. She stuck out a hand with one of the filled chalices for him to take and once he took it there was a deafening silence that fell between them. Noblesse's smile dissipated and was replaced with a somber sigh,"Look..." she paused to find the words, "I know what troubles you, but sometimes certain measures need to be taken when there is no other option." Noblesse and her father were demons, another "monster" with terrible labels, but neither of them were monstrous at all. They had hearts, they had worries, and neither enjoy making decisions like the ones Desh did, but there is truth to what Noblesse said, sometimes those actions are necessary, especially when keeping a whole army in line. "Power is the only language some people speak, and there's no shame in admitting that. Think about it, would your opposers show any more mercy? Those that sit high and mighty in their kingdoms? They would do the same, if not worse..." Noblesse raised her own cup to her lips and took a swig, instantly almost spitting it back out,"Hells on Linhael!" She forced it down and wiped the dribble from almost gaging, off her chin,"What is this foul--" she shook her head with her eyes shut tight,"How long has this drink been sitting there?" Noblesse looked back at the pitcher glinting proudly on its table to mock her,"Definitely an acquired taste that I have clearly not yet acquired, I don't think I ever will, not with that one, bleh," with haste she put the cup down on another empty table and pointed at her father's cup with raised eyebrows,"Be careful with that."



shadowz1995 shadowz1995
 
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Sophia De'Lexington

Chaos. This was Chaos. Something Sophia loved when it came to being involved. It was eye candy, it was ear pleasing. Most people thought she was aboslutely crazy whenever they'd see her go full out whenever it came to it and others would worry that one day she'd snap and kill them. But being under Desh's wing, there was nothing to be worried about because she was quite tame under specific circumstances. Such as this one, watching as the King took care of a careless Cyclops who begged to be spared. He has yet to realize he has made a truely regrettable mistake. One that Desh would not forgive. It was obvious what was to come of the creature and soon enough it was confirmed, his body no longer full of life. Sophia stood not that far from Noblesse, watching the situation continue to unfold before them. Five more monsters were brought before them and killed off without hesitation. She did catch Noblesse's reactions to the scene but made no effort to ask of her what was the matter. After all, she was in front of many people and she was obviously trying to set an example. She is just like her father... I'm not surprised, but I am genuinely amused because she's trying so hard. In her eyes, many people wouldnt try to hide, they'd show everything on their faces. But Noblesse... She was a gem, she was strong, and definitely one to lead the kingdom whenever it had come to it. Desh also loved her, which also made Sophia glad that he would show such love for her, despite what others may think of him.

Eventually everything came to an end and Desh announced the plan and left the area to his own tent. This allowed Sophia to move to her own tent as well, seating herself down to rest for a moment. Her attire was different and happened to be some light armor to protect her while doing dangerous missions such as these. As the redhead sat there, she was debating on taking off her armor just so she could rest a little better. After a few moments, she got up from her seat and went to work on this light armor before suddenly having a blade to the back of her neck. "You know, I do not appreciate a blade being held to my neck." she pointed out before the blade moved to the front of her neck, causing the demon to sigh "Your resistance is quite infuriating." at this point, she wanted to see what this...Person had in store because this resistance was more than easy to take advantage of. With sudden strength, the person grabbed her roughly and continued to hold the knife to her neck while covering her mouth. With a roll of her eyes, she breathed fire onto his hand, causing him to yell and suddenly pull away, dropping the knife "Next time, observe your opponent." with that said, her claws popped out and were on fire, a smirk forming on her face before she attacked, scratching up this pathetic piece of trash and causing him to scream within her tent, no doubtly gaining some attention from outside. Though the laughs of Sophia were following these screams so everyone knew who was causing someone to scream and yell.

The man ran out of the tent, bloodied and covered in wounds. Though he didnt get far as a flame whip launched out and grabbed him by the feet, dragging him back in while he clawed at the ground, trying not to be dragged to no avail. Screaming for help and begging before disappearing behind the loose flaps of Sophias tent, the poor man obviously being tortured before she emerged from the tent, dragging him out behind her. He was weak, beaten, and badly bleeding. Close to death for sure and would die any moment now. "Why dont we see our king, hm?" she asked, tilting her head a little as she looked over her shoulder at him before looking back ahead, leaving a blood trail with his body right up to Desh's tent where she spoke "My King, I brought you a present." she said before walking through the loose flaps of his tent "I found this little one trying to assassinate me. I'm quite flattered that many men come after me. Buuuut, It's very obnoxious having to destroy every one due to their... Attempts to kill me. Not that I mind, I get a toy for a little while before I get bored." she gestured to the bleeding and near-death man that was still attatched to her whip. Her eyes then shifted to Noblesse who was also in the tent with him "Oh, Princess, I apologize." she bowed her head "I did not mean to intrude if you were talking with your father."

(I'm too fucking tired here's a post that I farted out of my brain)
 
Vanth Eventide

The longer than the girl seemed to stay here, the worse things seemed to get, the more she regretted even making the journey in the first place. Vanth had heard rumors, whispers about the King of demons, but she had never expected anything like this. His display of power had been unlike anything the young girl had ever seen and the demon inside her was even screaming to run.

“why have you endangered us by coming here?” Vanth had to be inclined to agree with it, she has made a drastic mistake coming into the vicinity of power such as this. Her goal had been to find a way to help control the parasite that resided inside her, but this, this was far beyond her. Getting involved in something like this had not been her intention.

Even from her hiding spot, far from any prying eyes and even farther from the Demon King, she could feel the power radiating off him and she was struggling to remain conscious with the being inside her screaming in her ears. “Leave!” It was chanting over and over and it felt as though it was bashing against the inside of her skull. The young girl felt it too though, the urge to duck and run from the incredible power in front of them. Had she honestly thought she could handle something like this? That someone like that would even consider helping someone as lowly as her? To him, the girl was nothing and she knew it. “We need to get out of here.” She whispered under her breath, both to herself and to the demon panicking inside her. “We need to leave now.”

Vanth slipped back out of the shadows as she began to flee from the scene she had unknowingly walked into. Her head was pounding, and it wouldn’t be long before the thing inside her tried to take over, for now it would be better to back off and watch from afar. “You will not have control.” The demon would not have the satisfaction of taking over. “I will not yield to you.” Vanth repeated the words again and again as she tried desperately to fight the raging thing inside her. If it did manage to take over it would be the end for them both. It wasn’t safe here and they would certainly be killed the creature started lashing out now. “You shall see us both perish because of your foolishness girl! I shall not allow your stupidity to be the end of us both!” It was coming completely unhinged now and Vanth knew she had moments before it was unleashed. “I’m trying to save us both!” The girl was running now, away from the display of power, away from the danger, towards the edge of the camp. “I will not yield.”

When Vanth did finally find some semblance of safety, she dropped to her knees, breathing heavily. The demon had quieted a bit, resorting to an angry hissing than the brain scrambling screaming that it was doing in the camp. “You are lucky. It seems we shall live another day. No thanks to your senseless decisions.” Vanth groaned still barely controlling her breathing. “Fuck you.” She groaned and got to her knees as she began to survey her new surroundings. It seemed she was towards the outskirts of the camp, near a cluster of tents far from the Demon king and his power. That was until they all began walking back in the same direction Vanth had retreated to. Her eyes went wide as she realized she had landed just outside the king’s group of tents. She was really starting to question just how stupid she actually was as the demon began to stir again. “Be quiet. If you don’t, we’ll both die here today.” Vanth growled under her breath as she tried to remain hidden.

“I hope he kills you for your foolish actions. I hope he rips your skin from the bone, and you suffer pain worse than I ever did.” Vanth struggled not reply, biting down on her lip hard as she slowly retreated from the power pulsing through the camp. If she could get to the other side of the tents maybe she could get away. It had been a mistake coming here that much was obvious, but if she could just get there maybe she could get out of here and away from danger. What Vanth didn’t realize was that she was walking right into another threat.

Vanth made her way slowly passed the King's tent, but as she did, she heard sounds coming from another tent. From inside the girl could hear more screaming. Were they torturing people inside their tents now too? She needed to get out of here before she met the same fate. "You're a fool if you think we'll be able to escape now." The sounds coming from the tent were almost worse than the display she had witnessed moments before and they sent intense chills down her spine. This camp was a death trap. From behind her, Vanth heard yelling and she whipped her head towards the sound. A woman was approaching with what seemed to be the source of the noise being dragged behind her. “That will be you girl.” Vanth held a breath as the woman paid her no mind and walked straight past her, towards the tent of the king. What kind of place was this? Where was she going to go from here?


 
The demon king watched his young daughter quietly with a neutral expression. She paced the tent back and forth, seemingly searching for a way to console him. The emotion did not touch his facial features but he was both amused by her attempt and proud of it.

It had only been a few years since the princess had witnessed her first execution. Not by Desh's choice, of course. If it were up to him, he would spare her the sight. Hells, even the thought of making hard decisions like deciding the fate of rebels or incompetent subordinates within their army would never touch a hair on her young head. The weight of this war was on his shoulders.

Or... at least it should be.

As the princess grew past her teenage years, her power grew with her. Exponentially. As it was now, her control over shadows was on par with his own or even surpassed his. What she lacked was the raw power that Deshwitat wielded and even then. Noblesse was many times stronger than he was at her age. She was also much wiser and more composed than he was back then. Consumed by rage and vengeance as he was. Whether that be due to his teachings as a parent or because of the circumstances she was forced to grow up under was unclear. What was apparent was the Noblesse was an undeniable asset to The Broken Legion.

A small grin broke her old man's stone expression as she offered him a drink. "Thank you, sweetheart." he said with a tender voice. It was comical how the very words he had used to explain his actions to a younger Noblesse were now being regurgitated back to him. Whenever it was after this war that the goddess decided it was Desh's time, he could depart from this world without hesitation, knowing their people were in good hands.

"You've grown up very much, my child. It's come to the point where you are giving me words of encouragement."

And then she took a sip.

Hearty laughter filled the tent as the young lady recoiled from the ale. His blue eyes glimmered with mischief and humor now, "Though you still have a ways to go before you succeed me, it seems!" he declared with a open and warm smile. He brought the goblet to his lips and downed its contents in one fell swoop.

The princess's original goal had been achieved and his spirits were lifted from the burden of leadership, if only for a moment. A moment so fleeting that it was only several seconds before the screams of agony and torment touched his pointed ears.

It seems there had been another one. Sophia, Deshwitat's attendant and mistress, had a rather infamous knack for torture. A fact he acutely aware of when she wanted to "have fun" with him. Any other man would have died or succumb to madness long ago.

Reaching out with his shadows, the King of Monsters was able to quickly get a grasp of the situation. A would be assassin had just tried their luck with the wrong maiden. She wasn't his attendant just for her ability to support him in his endeavors. Her skill in combat, interrogation, and information gathering was also something to be wary of.

"I don't consider it arrogance when I say I believe I am the only man that can successfully come after you, Lady De' Lexington." he said with a playful grin to the crimson clad demoness.

He then turned his ire to the assassin, the expression on his face quickly being replaced with a cold mask.

"If you had tried to assassinate me, you would have simply been executed quickly. But since you tried to attack the ones I love and hold dear. You can join the others in eternal anguish."

Again, the condemned was not given a chance to reply as the shadows beneath his body shot up and swallowed him whole. Leaving nothing behind but a scarlet stain in the soil where he once laid, battered and broken by the very person he tried to kill.

"Thank you for bringing that to my attention, Sophia." he said with a polite nod and wink to the red lady.

He was about to return to his tent when a small, pale, shivering figure caught his attention. A child stood a stone's throw away from the scene and immediately, Deshwitat pumped the breaks on his overwhelming presence. Naturally, those closest to him had long since become acclimated to it but even fully grown monsters could find themselves on their knees cowering before him. A child could very well die if he didn't exercise restraint.

"What are you doing out here, little one?" The king asked in a very soft tone as he approached the small child. He knelt down to speak eye to eye but maintained personal space. She was obviously terrified. "Are you one of the orphaned children? You should be with the other fledglings. Not watching me execute assassins that tried to kill my family. "

Lord Rubdich then turned to his daughter and opened his mouth to speak her, "Noblesse, take this young one to the other children. Make sure she gets fed, bathed, and clothed. The last thing we need is kids running around witnessing the horrors of war more than they have to"

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"ENEMY ARTILLERY AIRSHIP ABOVE!!!"

It was as if his heart shrank, dried up, and imploded all at once. The alarm that the one of the scouts had relayed was one to be feared. Oshus was the only colony with such technology at their disposal and while they were small, their firepower was great. It wouldn't be a complicated matter to take them out of the picture for Deshwitat but ever since they declared there cessation from the Kingdom of Light and announced themselves independent, King Rubdich put them on the back burner in terms of priority.

Clearly, a mistake.

"SCATTER!" The king bellowed. "Get the flyers in the air and ready to take the fight to them!" Deshwitat then turned to his family members, "Sophia! Rally the army and get the anti-air mages ready to bring that hunk of metal out of the sky! Noblesse, get the children and non-combatants somewhere safe and gather a portion of the forces to defend them! Go!"

With his final order barked, the demon's black, leathery wings unfurled and a shockwave of energy strong enough to send some tents flying away burst forth from Lord Rubdich's body as he prepared for battle. All around the camp, monsters that were capable of flight were taking to the sky, armed to the teeth and following the deathly black figure that they called their leader. The warlord gave the order and the small air force took off at full speed towards the approaching airship.

It was only when they got close enough to see the crew that they noticed a white flag being waved over the bow of the ship. Deshwitat had only known that as a sign of surrender but they were clearly armed and ready for a fight. Was this a trick? He wouldn't put it past these disgusting light walkers to do something like this to force them to lower their guard for a moment before open firing on their ground forces.

Yet, as they drew closer they showed no signs of bloodlust. Fear and hatred, yes. But it seemed they were restraining themselves for some reason. At least, from what a demon's sensitivity to negative emotions could tell. The king of monsters called a full halt to his air forces and there was a tense moment where every barrel on the gunship was pointed their way. At the snap of a finger, they would all be decimated and it would be because Deshwitat made the wrong call.

............


Luckily, this proved not to be the case. The white flag had apparently not long meant surrender but also something called Parlay. The desire to negotiate. A temporary ceasefire to see if an agreement of some sort could be reached. At least, that is how it was described by two royals that now stood before him.

The airship had gently touched down in a clearing nearby and the forces of The Broken Legion stood at the ready a few dozen feet away from the leaders. Only several guards accompanied both parties. Noblesse and Sophia being Deshwitat's chosen company. Being that he trusted no others like he trusted his his lover and daughter.

"You have your meeting, bright ones. What in hell's name do you want to discuss with a Warlord of The Broken Legion? Speak quickly! My men are restless as I am!" he spat through clenched teeth. The king's anger and distrust clear as day to anyone listening. Yet, he was obviously willing to at least hear out whatever these people had to say for themselves.

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Otrygg had to all but guarantee an execution of any that dared fired, but they all knew how they would die if they had fired a shot. But that did not stop the reflexive action of pointing their weapons at the swarm of demons that rushed to meet them. The lone dwarf on the prow of the ship, the only one not armed, waved his flag even faster at the sight of the encroaching cloud. And during the tense aerial standoff, Otrygg had his hand firmly wrapped around the Dawnhammer, while Caralyss was ready to quickly sling a spell or two. But luckily the Broken Legion Warlord was willing to speak with them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The small entourage that accompanied the King and Queen of Oshus consisted of equal parts dwarf riflemen, with axe heads secured onto their rifle barrels, and spear wielding Hysh, whose bodies were draped in finely woven silk (most likely from themselves). And advancing with the two was a scarred dwarf, who looked more important than the standard dwarf rifleman, and an equally scarred Hysh, who carried herself like someone who had fought her whole life and held her spear with a comfortable familiarity.

"I'd have your head hanging above my gates and your body left out as food for the carrion eaters." Otrygg growled at the Warlord that stood before them. "And to see your rabble blown asunder and bodily ripped apart, creature."

It took considerable will power on behalf of Caralyss to not throttle her dwarven companion. "Apologies, Master Deshwitat Rubdich, for my compatriot. He does not think of much outside of war and battle." Otrygg spared a glance and a glare for Caralyss, but remained silent. "Apologies for meeting with you on such short notice, your Broken Legion is hard to track, and I did not know when I would next get this opportunity. But I wish to discuss with you a possible agreement that we may both hopefully find agreeable. Oshus sits in a strategic location between the kingdoms of Elysium and Oceanius, with us being the only safe land route through the mountains. We wish to come to an agreement upon which you and the Broken Legion will assist in protecting our city of Oshus."

"Aye, and that'll cost an arm, a leg, our souls and our city. I did not get out of one boot just to willingly put myself under another." Otrygg finally spoke up. "I know your kind, you are the kind that will not agree to a damnable thing until we have given you everythin'. And you're gonna sit there, dabblin' in yer power, threatenin' us without sayin' a thing. I know how you creatures think, and this is a damnable waste of my time."
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Duke Ermengard Falco.
Duchy of Falcland, Avalonia.


It was midday with the sun high in the air, the sky mostly cloudless and the heat scorched anyone still out in the open. Here there was an unfinished stone castle, with walls and towers reaching up in the air but not having quite reached its full height. Surrounding it was a nearby woodland, a quarry filled with many stones and a village to house the workers. The site was clear save for five individuals standing in the center of it all speaking to each other and pointing at one distant thing, at the tower perhaps, or the walls, or maybe even the village beyond.

The man with the great beard nodded thoughtfully, stroked his beard and had an inquisitive look about him. He was well-dressed, wearing clothes fit for the highest nobleman and he was armed with a longsword. Beside him were what appeared to be two heavily armed guards, decked with full armor and greatswords, enduring the great torment the scorching sun cast on them. Accompanying them was a rather huge muscular man and a monk carrying a huge tome with him.

"We're working double time as requested sir," said the man, "These castles will be up and running within a month. This is the best that can be done. We've even hired people to work well within the night and we've stationed the new mercenaries to guard them in case someone tries to sabotage our efforts."

"Good good, master builder." said Duke Ermengard, the one with the great beard, "You know I wouldn't ask this of you if it wasn't an emergency. I'm sorry for all the trouble lately, we just can't allow the Duchy to suffer another devastating defeat like before. It'll be the end of Falcland." Ermengard closed his eyes and pinched his nose, "We can't just depend on Elysium to defend us all the time either. We have to take care of things at home. Its only right that we do this."

"Of course, sir," said the master builder, "All of Falcland knows this."

Words that rang true. Everywhere, every town, village, and household far and wide in Falcland took the initiative of reconstruction. Damaged roads and fortifications were re-built, fresh recruits were being trained in the communities, the universities and monasteries were re-opened within a month, trade came back as merchants began travelling around the Duchy, new castles like this one were being built, among many other improvements. It seemed like spirits were high despite the devastating war. People were happy that life came back to normal. It was a miracle that this happened. A miracle that Ermengard couldn't bet on to happen again.

For in spite of Ermengard's best efforts the Duchy was horribly divided into three factions, possibly splintering into several more: Duke Ermengard's faction, the Avalonians, desired to be good loyal vassals to Elysium even should they sacrifice their old traditions and religion; Lord Mayor Aran Haul's faction, the Laheleins, desired independence not only from Elysium but also from Falcland and had what looked to be an unofficial alliance with Oshus even going as far as to purchase their weapons; Lord Mayor Gerulf Dietrich, the Auchaindrains, had even more sinister designs as they wished to take over the Duchy for themselves, they even consorted relations with other kingdoms, most notably with the Akhadian Empire who they lent mercenaries to and where they even got firearms from.

There was even a message from one of Ermengard's spies that the Auchaindrains had bought an artillery piece aptly named "The Grand Cannon" a huge beast. Ermengard privately wondered what it was and if it was possible if such a thing could exist. Perhaps it was just one of those big guns Oshus had. Whatever it was, it certainly was no match for the awesome light magics Elysium had.

Ermengard snapped out of his thoughts and turned to speak to the master builder.

"What of the other eight castles in Avalonia? How's the progress?"

"Same everywhere, sir. Construction will be finished in a month. Working as hard as we can. We have everything we need here so nothing to be worried about."

"That's a relief."

A relief it was. From what Ermengard observed hours earlier, the workers were swift and competent, the masons cracked open the sandstones like it was nothing, the carters drove like crazy, the carpenters and woodturners handled timber as if it was a part of their own body. Ermengard thought these were no ordinary workers, so he called them miracle workers. He suspected the work to be finished even quicker than just a month, but they didn't want to rush things too much, so a little time was given.

The Ducal Army took a real beating five years ago. Their entire army was just wiped out in the final battle with Ermengard nearly dying right then and there. The entire population was also hit hard when they resisted against the occupying forces, with many perishing by fire and sword. Brave men and women who stood up for their country dead. A huge sacrifice that will never be forgotten on his watch. Five years was enough to recover, the Ducal Army was swelling with fresh raw recruits, not as experienced as their predecessors but they were eager to prove themselves worthy in battle. Even his own son, Adamar Falco, joined their ranks and he expresses hopes that he'll be able to serve Falcland and Elysium well. Time will tell if they are all up to the task.

Ermengard nodded to himself.

"By the way, I didn't catch your name. So, master builder, got one?" Ermengard smiled meekly.

"Yes, sir, its Thomas. Thomas the Builder."

"Thomas, Thomas, yes. . ." Ermengard turned to his two guards who were being roasted alive by this point, "I'll remember that name! Okay, we've stayed here long enough, let's get back to Llandogo."

"If it is your will, my Duke!" The guards shouted with force.

Ermengard noticed smoke rise from their armor. A visible look of concern overcame him.

"Excuse me, sir, there's a well nearby," said Thomas, pointing at the direction of the well, "If you'd like, I'll fetch you and your men some water to cool your men down. Please, if I may."

"Yes! Thanks, that will do."

"You're welcome." Thomas took off running.

Ermengard jogged after him and his guards followed. Soon, Thomas scooped up buckets of water, gave the two guards cups and when they removed their helmets they drank to what amounted to a gallon of water. So great was their thirst and so cruel the heat they even splashed a bit of water on their faces and after dousing their heads a few more times with water they sat down to relax.

"Thanks for saving our asses there, buddy." said one of the guards.

"We owe you one." said the other, "Say, if we ever bump into each other, I'll give you a drink! An expensive one."

"Well then!" exclaimed Thomas the Builder, "I'll have to take you up on that offer."

"Heh, I like to make things even," said the guard, "I pay my debts. I'm clean."

"Got a name?"

"They call me the ugly drunk Gervas!"

"Why's that?" Thomas raised an eyebrow, Gervas looked quite average to him.

"That's 'cause when I hit on all the girls while I'm drunk I get a slap on the face all the time." Gervas laughed.

Ermengard shook his head disapprovingly, "Yes, everyone knows."

"He's such a scandal and a flirt," said his fellow guard, "And a braggart too! Says he's the best swordsman in all of Falcland."

"That's no lie." Gervas squinted at his friend.

"You're good," the fellow replied, "But I'm better. And everyone knows that."

"Tsk, not this again."

"What's your name, friend?" asked Thomas.

"Gero Swifthand!"

"Right, tell him your real name," said Gervas in a real menacing tone, "Or I'll do it for you."

". . . Its . . ."

"Don't tell him, Gero," said Ermengard, "This is an order from your Duke."

Gero sighed with relief.

"Gero and Gervas," said Thomas to himself, "I'll remember you folks."

Gervas coughed once then twice, "Ahem, this may be rude but I have to ask a question."

"Go on," said Thomas, throwing his hands right up into the sky itself, "Ask anything in the world!"

"If you've got beautiful daughters to spare. . ."

Gervas stopped when he saw Thomas grit his teeth, close his eyes, clench his hands and ball them to fists. A few seconds later, he looked sad, a little lost and desperate, like he was begging for his life. It took for a few moments for Thomas to calm down and respond to Gervas, "I have daughters, had them, died in the war. All of them, my family, everyone I knew from my youth is dead." Dreadful words.

"I. . . I'm the same, Thomas." said Gervas in reply, with a hint of regret and anger in his tone. He wanted to take those words back. No, he wanted his family and friends back no matter what. The memories, the peace he had before, but he knew whatever he had was taken from him in that damned war. Damn Oceanius. Damn the demons. Damn them all to fire and hell.

"Enough," Ermengard walked away, right in the direction of the horses, "Let's go."

The guards donned on their helmets, their personalities gone, gone was ugly drunk Gervas and Gero Swifthand and in their place came Duke Ermengard's personal bodyguards. Duty came first. Sacrifice given freely. Pain natural. No longer were they ordinary men with troubled pasts, they immediately transformed into the Duchy's most fearsome warriors at a moment's notice.

Thomas had no helmet, no mask to hide behind. He is and always had been Thomas the Builder. He was no warrior. He was a person like any other. But even he might have to fight someday, to be called to defend the Duchy against monsters and armies more terrible than he can imagine. And yet that was how things worked in Falcland, how it has always been.

By the time Thomas had finished wrestling with his emotions, Ermengard had already mounted up on his warhorse. His guards were about to do the same, they began by placing their left hand on the top of the horse, brought their left foot up on the stirrup and carried themselves up. When they were up on the stirrup they swung their other leg over the horse and they sat on the saddle. Slowly, they began to ride away.

"My Duke," said Thomas as Ermengard and guards rode past him, "Make them pay and give them hell!"

"Thomas, Thomas Builder," Ermengard had the fiercesome look of a man that wasn't going to change his mind, "I promise you and the people of Falcland more than that. I'll give those damned invaders more than hell! I'll give them a nightmare. And I'll give Falcland the victory it deserves."

When Ermengard rode out of the construction site, people heard him, all over. Just outside was a hundred and fifty knights and their squires and they cheered for the Duke Ermengard, they cheered for Falcland and they will almost certainly remember his promise. A promise that seemed like destiny. The whole world, it seemed, wanted to destroy Falcland. But no, someday, Falcland will show the world what it is made of. And just like Ermengard, they certainly were never going to change their minds. It seemed like they had already won the day. And after so many defeats in battle, they showed that they still had the burning desire to achieve total victory.

Ermengard and his court rode a full four hours without rest to Llandogo. There Ermengard rested for half an hour before coming to the great hall to listen to the petitioners coming with their own concerns. They were usually people that demanded ducal justice, or they wanted Ermengard to consider a project to finance, or maybe there was a problem concerning bandits on the highway, whatever it was Ermengard was there to listen. Sometimes, a messenger would come to deliver interesting news. . . or an uninvited guest would burst into the great hall with his own business in mind. . .
 
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Logan Fellrikk
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Logan took a long drag from his cigarette, finishing it, before tossing it over the ledge of the unfinished castle. The mercenary commander sighed out a large cloud of smoke, cursing the damned heat of the blazing sun overhead. The stone beneath him didn't help much either reflecting the heat back at him with near equal intensity. The castle would be impressive once completed but for now it was a skeleton, bare of the meat and skin that would designate it a true stronghold of Falcland. The man in charge of the fort’s construction, Thomas the Builder had been the right choice in Logan’s opinion, a solid and reliable architect who knew what he was doing.

Turning back from the ledge overlooking the hastily constructed town near the castle, Logan looked over at the Duke, discussing the construction and bureaucratic intricacies of the building’s construction with Thomas. The Duke had hired Logan several months ago and Logan already held a healthy respect for the commander. He was in charge of rebuilding a land near overrun with annihilation, and yet, Logan believed he could do it. The Duke was a strong man, a stronger human than most of his kind, and a stronger being than most he had ever met, and Logan had been on the battlefield with the darkness Primal Deshwitat L. Rubdich. If anybody could lead these ravaged lands to peace and prosperity, it was Duke Ermengard Falco.

He had come with Duke Ermengard to each of the 8 castles being constructed, assigning to each a unit of guards, each soldier chosen specifically for each environment. His mercenaries were some of the best, the best of the best in fact; a bold statement he could proclaim proudly and with little argument. They were experts in urban combat, castle defense, CQC, trench warfare, etc. etc. etc. They were good men second and good killers first, warriors trained by the finest instructors available and hardened by years of experience in the many battles and skirmishes that riddled the lands. Logan had trained many of the soldiers himself and was quite proud of the all around skill of his entire division; His men were strong soldiers and that was an undisputed fact.

“Nother cig mah commander? a’ve got about twelve left so I won't be hurt if ya decline.”

Next to Logan another man in armor puffed on his own cigarette, offering another to his commander. This man was Eric Von Ulysses, one of Logan’s small circle of friends and most trusted advisors, another War Elf and another veteran of another hundred battles. One of the last friends Logan had left; Oceanius and the Broken Legion had made sure of that. Logan and Eric had worked together for decades and there were few men Logan trusted more. The mercenary took the cigarette somberly and lit it with a couple puffs before he began to walk toward the makeshift stables propped up at the front of the construction site. They would be leaving soon, he could tell that much. Eric spoke up as they descended the stairs,

“Leaving soon eh? I'll grab the entourage haha, You owe me for that cig by the way, I ain't got too many left.”


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-Eric Von Ulysses-
The man’s tone was rough and a scar across his neck provided the reasoning for his hoarse voice. Another gift from Oceanius and the wars that had covered Falcland. Eric hated the water dwelling bastards with a passion, his wife and sons all taken from him by the power hungry empire. Many within Logan’s legion held good reason to hate the empire: Stolen families, land, lives and much more could be counted among the reasons for their spite. Logan himself wasn't much of a fan, having lost many friends and his parents to the warmongers; Logan saved his hate however for a different faction, The Broken Legion. The cursed monster horde had earned his ire first when they had destroyed The Red Skulls Division, and then when his lover Mirada had perished in the flames of their pillaging, they had earned his hate.

They might be mercenaries, but Logan and Eric and the many warriors of the Golden Butchers held a special loyalty to Duke Ermengard. He was a man of honor and strength and Logan respected him. That was enough for The Golden Butchers, their leader’s respect and admiration was all that was needed for a cause to get their full backing. More than this however, it was the humanity of the Duke that appealed. He was a man who had suffered and struggled his whole life, a worker and fighter from start to finish, thrust into the chaos of the world as but a simple man; and yet he had taken the reins of the chaos and now struggled to tame it. Any who struggled so heroically, so defiantly, in the name of justice, peace and prosperity, was a man worth following.

Logan and his force, 30 well equipped soldiers strong, rode behind the Duke and his court, providing extra security to the noble. The troupe rode for four hours straight, arriving at Llandogo just as the heat began to lighten. Logan dismissed his men and went to his quarters to prepare for the Great Hall. He polished his armor and blades, checked his journals and suppositories of division finances and the other books and items involved in the intricacies of running a mercenary force. Then placing his equipment save for his helmet upon his well built, chiseled and scarred body, the warrior paced towards the hall. Eric and Rune, the second guard chosen for Logan’s defense, immediately came to his side as he approached the hall.

Rune spoke first as they walked,

“So where will we be deployed first my commander? I apologize for the bluntness of my speech but the men are impatient to be finished with guard duty. We need to enter the front lines commander, the Duke knows we’re most effective there. We need to take the fight to that cursed legion.”

Rune was one of the younger members of the unit stationed in Llandogo, an experienced swordsman whose skill rivaled most in the whole kingdom. His fire and eagerness for battle were good qualities in Logan’s opinion, and the blades he carried only contributed to that opinion. His questions and youthful naivety had their bonuses as well as he allowed Logan a sounding board to bounce ideas off of.

“With respect Rune, but I'm a thinkin that being deployed here issa good thin. Tha Broken Legion and their Lord of darkness, death and being a dickwad could appear most anywhere. And it would be a bad thin indeed for us to leave for a day or two and haf em attack right after.”


Eric responded as they walked, scowling at Rune for the questions. Rune would never stop asking questions like those though, it was why Logan kept him around.


Entering the Grand Hall of the city castle, Logan walked swiftly towards the Duke before taking a seat at one of the chairs near to the throne. They would discuss the war efforts later, once the more minor concerns of the peasantry were dealt with. Logan wondered why the Duke didn't delegate the process to one of his ministers so that he could focus on the campaign to strengthen the kingdom, but he understood that the man’s mind worked differently from his. Ermengard placed a priority on his people and their well being Logan had scarcely seen in any human, let alone one with the power and authority the Duke held. It was admirable the way the man handled his power, but Logan was wise enough to know that there were priorities that truly needed dealing with. He had worked with nobility many times in his life, and in this world he knew there few topics more important than those related to the waging of war. The mercenary commander needed to know who he would be working with in the coming days, cooperation would need to be achieved with whoever it was and fast if things were to go smoothly.

Historical Storyteller Historical Storyteller
 
-Sebastien Roh-
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Sebastien paced the halls feverishly, anxious and waiting eagerly on the delivery he had made to order hours earlier. He had paced like this many times before, anticipating and waiting, impatient but understanding of the time. The delivery came from quite far away anyhow, but haste and speed were of the utmost importance. If the delivery was even a minute late there was a very good chance that the man would be very angry. Perhaps not however, Roh was a bipolar sort, shifting from an ice cold and analytical persona to a raging and stormy one in seconds.
The halls he paced were of an imperial laboratory, built to his specifications by benefactors most generous and most eager to see and acquire his inventions. The staff of the building consisted entirely of researchers and guards personally hired by him, Noctus Illumni Castium Fo. Known to many as The Merchant of Harvest, or the Corpse Watcher, the mad scientist was a powerful addition to Oceania’s intellectual ability; He focused primarily on military inventions, necromancy and biological mana manipulation. Mr. Roh was currently focused on crafting new weapons for the Oceanian Empire, as well as the study of multiple ancient necromancy related artifacts.

As he waited on his delivery he thought of the past month, a hectic time period for the researcher indeed. Seven assassination attempts, each taking the lives of those by Mr. Roh’s side. One of which had been far too close, ending the life of his favored assistant rather than his own. In a sense he missed the man, a studious and loyal soul, sickly and overrun with debilitation, his life taken by a knife aimed at Sebastien’s own heart; he had been a good man, a better one than Sebastien, a better one by far. He didn't feel sadness however, his assistant had been utterly devoted to the Oceanium court so in Roh’s mind, he was carrying out the will of his dead friend by continuing in his work. Despite the rising death toll, the perpetrators as of most late had not been discovered yet.

Why so many attempts had occurred as of recently escaped the arcane researcher. He was used to people wanting him dead, but seven attempts in a month? Someone truly wanted the scientist deceased, and they wanted it done fast. Perhaps it had to do with the man’s research? But even then Sebastien wasnt THAT close to a breakthrough, or perhaps, the attempts were signs of close proximity to a true conclusion. He would have to spend more time on the project if he was to know for sure. But past THAT project he didn't understand the many attempts on his life, other than perhaps his many past crimes. It had been months however, surely those he had wronged would have gotten over a few deaths already?

He was the only one in the hallway save for his single guard near the other end of the walkway. Sebastien truly appreciated solitude, as with his many enemies he often lost the chance to enjoy it. This particular bodyguard understood his like for solitude and Roh liked them especially for that understanding. The sun streamed in lightly and he almost smiled at it; His researchers would work better in better weather. Though in the same thought he almost scowled as better weather should have resulted in an early arrival for his order. As he went over the thoughts of efficiency a figure appeared at the gate outside of the laboratory. All his negative thoughts disappearing for a moment, Sebastien watched from the second floor hallway as the man’s credentials were gone over; the delivery man entered unmolested and came to the front door to hand his delivery to Sebastien’s new assistant. The assistant came upstairs in record time, adeptly ascending the stairs with a practiced fluidity, she already understood quite well Sebastien’s distaste for tardiness.

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-Aristole Jacobson-
Mr. Roh’s bodyguard was a man by the name of Aristole Jacobson , the son of a noble warrior saved by Iroh’s medical expertise during an assasination attempt on the Corpse Watcher. Aristole had been all but gifted to Sebastien afterwards. Sebastien, not one to turn down a present, accepted the boy with open but outstretched arms; the lad had then been gifted an education and source of employment. Sebastien had had the boy trained and educated by the very best provided in Oceania’s courts, then when the boy had finished his education, he became one of the Merchant of Harvest’s most used bodyguards. Somehow he made it to adulthood and now serves Sebastien with an almost eerie unwavering loyalty and silence. A master swordsman and assassin of sorts, Aristole has put his skills to use in defense of Sebastien’s life more times than either can count and now considers the scientist’s side to be home.

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-Faye Romonna-
The new assistant was a being that went by the name of Faye Romonna, a necromancer woman whose age and skills were near Sebastien’s. Her qualities included: punctuality, neatness, power, an appreciation for coffee and her lack of morals entirely. She had no problem dealing with Sebastien’s dirty work and her hands were nowhere near unstained with blood. She had worked with the Corpse Watcher before, twice, on the coasts searching out the perfect corpses for a long past experiment and once during the siege of Vladiskoll, a small hamlet that had come under assault from pirates. The two of them had worked together quite effectively, dismantling the pirate crews claiming dominion over the village. None of the privateers had escaped the duo that night, effectively demonstrating the capability of the two when working together. More than chemistry bonded (badum tish) the two however, as both regarded being on time as utterly important to an individual. They both appreciated punctuality in the workforce immensely.

Needless to say, Sebastien got his coffee on time.
Today none would suffer his wrath; The Corpse Watcher’s anger was well known throughout Oceania’s scientific community, as well as his brilliance. As Sebastien sipped his special concoction, brewed in an ancient and little known store at the seafront, he made his way downstairs to the main hall. All around in the large room, ancient artifacts of questionable origin were placed on mantles and in glass boxes. Most were drained of all power, their use expended long ago in battle or research long forgotten or normalized by use. Some however were not so powerless, evenly placed in secret to provide defense in case of emergency. Roh had made good use of many of the items within the spacious room.

Today he’d be getting an audience with the esteemed Luiza Morganthau, vampiric countess of the Hauserit Covina of Oceania as well as her son mihai, a newer vampire by far. Her assistance in his research would be much appreciated, if he could get it. Oceania demanded new and powerful weapons and Mr. Roh was always happy to provide. This time however, the boon he was attempting access to, was something special. An ancient Vampiric blade of ancient renown. Known as the Queenslayer, the sword had been lost millennia ago after a devastating war of epic proportions. Necromancers, vampires and most if not all the creatures of the night had been involved. The blade was Sebastien’s priority, if he could secure Luiza and Mihai’s loyalty to Oceania that would be yet another couple zeroes added to his funding.

Reaching his audience room, he placed the box containing his coffee and 3 pastries on a side table before wandering over to the other side of the room. He opened a pair of curtains, allowing sunlight to stream in and lay itself over his personal desk. Walking back over to his desk, Sebastien snapped twice and assistants from the side rooms came in quickly and began to prep the room one last time for visitors. Furniture in the room was rearranged, everything within was dusted for a third and final time, chairs and desks for the newcomers were brought in and placed in the shadows facing Sebastien’s desk. Everything in the room was then gone over twice for wiretaps, bombs, any form of negative intrusiveness really. The scientist, before sitting down, placed a coffee and pastry on each desk, taking the box with the final two coffees and pastry for himself.

KindlyPlagueDoctor KindlyPlagueDoctor
 
Empress A.Patrica Une
Oceanius Empire, Markovia
"Well, don't mind us, Sir Flynn. I think we can all agree that family time is important. Moreso when our duty to the Empire gets in the way." Patricia sighed, absentmindedly ruffling Jacelyn's hair. As her fingers ran through her daughter's snow white hair, her smile faltered slightly. How was her daughter? Will she remain this cheerful and warm? Or maybe the voice will pull her like the rest with her condition? These worrying thoughts are pushed aside when Jacelyn's hand playfully attempted to swat Patricia's away. "Mother, that tickles!"

"Oh hush, Jace. Let your mother have this moment. Your father has the gall to return late after all." Patricia teased, pulling the girl into a gentle embrace. Patricia began to reminisce about her children's infancy. Jacelyn was active, even as a babe, she would always preferred to be carried around. Meanwhile her brother, Hamilton, was the quieter child. Always asleep and listening to Patricia's humming. Her reminincse was cut short by an almost silent knock on the door. "Pardon the intrusion, Your Grace."

"Well, well. I can't seem to get away from work. This is certaintly a surprise, Messenger." Patricia smiled at the masked man standing by the door way. He respectfully bowed before pulling down the worn maroon bandana covering the bottom half of his face. "Just doing my duty, Your Grace."

"Uncle Messy!" Jacelyn cheerfully cried out, wiggling out of Patricia embrace and throwing herself at the Vice-Overseer. "Well hello there Princess. Goodness, you are growing up to be a fine young lady." The man chuckled as he ruffled the young Princess' hair before Patricia quietly cleared her throat. Jacelyn responded to it with a small giggle before letting go and allowing him to continue with his duty.

"Right... ehem. You'll be surprised to know that I have intercepted a messenger with a rather interesting document, Your Grace." The Messsenger said, reaching into his satchel and pulling out a rolled-up piece of parchment bearing a familiar seal. "Rather cute looking thing too. Pity she had too many legs for my taste."

"Too many legs?" Patricia took the parchment and checked the seal. Her confused expression turning to one of subtle surprise. "This bears the coat of arms of Oshus... You must have intercepted a hysh, Messenger. Strange for them to contact us directly... I recall them being a touch more secluded."

"Well in any case, I sent her off and delivered the message on her behalf. Seemed almost happy at the idea of leaving the Empire. Not surprised though, given how us scum are treated." The Messenger soberly scoffed. Patricia merely frowned upon hearing The Messenger's retort, a stinging reminder at one of one of the many innocent problems plaguing the Empire. A problem she's working hard to fix.

"I don't blame our visitor but an Outsider is an Outsider in the eyes of the common folk. I pity their simple shortsightedness, it seems rather comforting if I were to be honest. Its hard to be betrayed by people you never trusted, no?" Patricia dryly joked as she unrolled the parchment and read through the contents. Ignoring Jacelyn's attempts to read it ("What does it say? I wanna see!), Patricia's expression slowly turned to silent contemplation. And amusement. "Well I'll be..."

"Shall I get a messenger raven prepared, Your Grace?" The Messenger asked, pulling his bandana back over his face. Patricia's small smile and chuckle was all he needed to hear. "I'll have Paul sent up to your Study. Have a wonderful day, Your Grace. Goodbye Princess." The Messenger took a moment to shoot a hidden smirk at Sigdriffa and her family. "You too, Cherished Overseer of our esteemed Schwartz Company. Ave Oceanius."

"Bye Uncle Messy!" Jacelyn cheerfully waved as the Vice-Overseer made his leave with a polite bow and salute. Patricia nodded in acknowledgment and folded up the parchment, tucking it away under her raiment before pulling Jacelyn into another playful hug.

"In any case, it seems that I have time for a spot of tea. It would be lovely if your family would join us. What do you think, Jace?"

"Yay! Tea time with Mama! Oh please join us Aunt Driffy! I wanna play with Charles!" Jacelyn pleaded, staring at Sigdriffa like a puppy begging for treats. As Patricia quietly laughed, she wondered if her dutiful son's dance lesson is over.


Kokurai Gaisgeach Kokurai Gaisgeach Soviet Panda Soviet Panda
Crown Prince A.Hamilton Une
Oceanius Empire, Markovia
"One, two, three! One, two, three! And twirl! Keep to the rythm, young Ladies and Gentlemen! You must look your best during the Elucidation Day Ball!" A slightly portly Noblewoman, Lady Narcissus, gave instruction over the soft and gentle music being played by the musicians in the Palace's Ballroom. On the main dance floor were 13 young members of Oceanius Nobility and the Crown Prince, Alto Hamilton Une, himself. The 7 pairs slowly danced to the rhythm. Albiet rather clumsily for some pairs, the odd wince and hiss of pain escaping from gritted teeth and forced smiles as feet were trod on or partners slipping.

"Yes very good, Your Highness! Follow your Prince's example Ladies and Gentlemen! See how he synchronises with his partner!" Lady Narcissus praised the young Prince as he gently led his chosen dance partner and friend, Atlantia Stinger, in a waltz. His eyes locked into hers and a soft, gentle smile on his lips. He was careful and focused on the music and his partner. Well.... At least that's what it looks like.

Gods end me, this is almost unbearable... Hamilton thought to himself as the music continued and Lady Narcissus' instructions was slowly drowned out by his own thoughts.

"Lead your partner!" Right foot back, left hand forward. "Listen! Listen to the music!" Anticipate an attack from the left, I'm wide open on that side. "Feel it! Feel the warmth of your partner's hand! Enjoy their company as you express your feelings!" Make sure there is proper distance from the target. Keep them to my right and front. "And twirl!" Strike quick and clean. "Aaaaand bow!" Such is the basics of the polearm. Hamilton politely bowed to his dance partner as the song ended. "Thank you for the dance, Lady Atlantia."

Britt-21 Britt-21
 
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Noblesse wiped her lips with her finger tips, she could still taste the sharp bitterness of the drink and it made her skin tingle with regret and disgust. A nervous chuckle bubbled in her throat from her father's amused reaction, and the burning sensation of embarrassment burned her face red....that is, until the echo of a doomed soul traveled its way toward the tent they occupied. Both the King and princess rushed to see what the terrible cry was all about, and alas, here comes Sohpia with a smug smirk pulling on her face. Dragging behind her was a body who belonged to the most unfortunate soul. Sophia was like family, and Noblesse knew her well enough to know that this wasn't going to end well, and that if Sophia wished, this trespasser would be dead by now. As soon as the red woman came forward, Noblesse became stiff and put on her public mask again. Emotionless and stoic, that's how the world saw her. Noblesse scowled and put her hands behind her back, slightly upset that this "distraction" that had disrupted a moment between father and daughter. She was almost certain that the attempt-assassin could predict his fate by now. The tension in the room reached new heights, he was fearful and shivering, and when the shadows of her father mercilessly enveloped him whole she sighed her defeat, eyes averted. The work she had put in to cheer up her father had ripped and splattered in the form of blood at her feet.

Suddenly her father's attention was pulled elsewhere. As Noblesse stood behind him, she watched his heard turn and speak to someone out of view with a tender tone. The princess couldn't see the individual, but could sense the life form not too far away. A sudden weight was lifted off her shoulders and she could feel the density and intensity of her father's supernatural presence diminish. With her hands still behind her, Noblesse took a deep breath and extended her spine to straighten her posture. King Desh's energy had a weight to it, it was fearsome and wild, and was heavy enough to make smaller beings cower and quiver. It had a literally heaviness to it, and very rarely did Noblesse feel it so low. She felt herself breathe so freely, and felt light as a feather. Better take advantage and get her body limber while she can. With her eyes closed the young demoness interlocked her fingers together and stretched her arms and shoulders outward, with her palms facing out.

"Noblesse," the King's voice carried her name.

"Yes, father?" she responded nonchalantly, opening one eye to look at him as she by rolled her shoulders forward and backward now.

The king instructed her to take a child to the rest of the children to be taken care of. Noblesse looked at him with her full attention now, "Child," she questioned quietly to herself. The king continued, "The last thing we need is kids running around witnessing the horrors of war more than they have to.

With a curt nod, Noblesse obeyed and exposed herself from the inside of the tent to regroup with the others. Her head turned to the side and she saw exactly who her father said. A lonely child, scared....but from more than just her father. There was something else. Noblesse's usual serious face dropped into an innocent, wide-eyed gaze. Her shoulders dropped and her head raised with curiosity. There was something about this white haired stranger. Like her father, Noblesse could sense the supernatural aura's and energies that all creatures seemed to exude, but sometimes she feels she's a little more sensitive to them than he is. What ever the feeling was, it was almost mesmerizing and seemed strangely familiar...very distracting. In any case that didn't matter now, with another deep breath the heiress puffed her chest with confidence, and the regal facade returned. Noblesse respectfully bowed, her long, platinum hair sliding forward to dangle on either side of her head, neck, and shoulders with gravity, and when she straightened up the hair lazily draped on her shoulders and past her chest. Her attention moved to the mysterious girl with a pivot of her heels, with one hand behind her back, the princess extended her other hand and smiled gently, "Come on then," her voice was sweet and airy, like the breath of spring.

"ENEMY ARTILLERY AIRSHIP ABOVE!!!"

Noblesse instantly snapped into survival mode. Voices of the encampment around her suddenly erupted into a choir of chaos, an ode to War and Death she knew all too well. The roar of the incoming ship grew louder as they grew closer and wind speeds began to pick up around them. Reacting quickly, Noblesse lunged forward to snatch the girl's hand and pulled her closer. She wasn't that much taller than the stranger, but enough to feel like she can protect her from the threat-to-be. The king barked at his daughter, commanding her to deliver the girl to the rest of the children and civilians with a troop of the king's men for defense. With no moment for hesitation, Noblesse received the message and acted upon it, with the girl in tow, she weaved through tents and monsters who scrambled to prepare for what was coming, paying no mind whether the girl could keep up or not. Noblesse managed to rally a large troop of warriors to follow her and guard the civilians on the way. When she reached the camp's most eastern outer-rim, Noblesse led the girl to the largest tent in the center, it housed the orphaned children who have lost their parents and families during times of war. A large, heavy-set woman stood in the middle of a huddle of fearful children in her care. The care taker wore a messy apron and had a mole on her upper lip, there was a gap between her teeth when she talked, and her hair was in an unruly bun. She looked a little scary but she was nice. "This is Anya, she'll take good care of you from here on out," Noblesse reassured between panting breaths and nudged the girl with two hands in Anya's direction, "Someone will tell you if its time to evacuate, continue for the cover of trees, we'll send search parties afterwards," her voice was a little stern and direct.

"Yes, Ive been through this before, we know when its time to turn tail when things go south," Anya replied and waved her hand to call the girl over.

Noblesse nodded, gave one last look at the girl, and rushed to exit the tent....


---------- Fast Forward to The Confrontation :D ------------

The princess caught up to her father and Sophia in a clearing where the ship had landed. She wasn't expecting a meeting like this, and her father wasn't either by the way his overwhelming presence had returned to its normal levels, making Noblesse struggle a little more than usual to catch her breath. She stood tall at attention behind her father and next to Sophia, her hands behind her back, heavy breathing slowing to a normal rate, and mix-set eyes glaring at the entrance of the ship with a scowl. As the unannounced "guests" stepped out of their metal ship, Noblesse tilted her head to the side, "I admire their bravery..." she said in sarcastically in a low tone. There was a short pause of silence before she spoke up again, "Is it bravery or foolishness? I always mix the two," she whispered to Sophia.

A Hyshh and a Dwarf stepped forward to speak after Desh demanded them too. There was tension, and it was high. The Hyshh that spoke seemed level-headed and collected. The Dwarf however, was emotional and arrogant, provided nothing but insults when it came to this possible "agreement". Useless. Why was he here? It was his forced duty as King to show face, no doubt, but the question still remained. Noblesse stepped closer to Sophia, standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder, "Sophia, you're an intelligent woman," she whispered so that only the red woman could hear, "Is there any scientific evidence of a correlation between a Dwarf's temper and their height," she asked with a smirk. "Probably not, if that were the case we won't be able to see him if he gets any angrier," it took all that she had keep herself from laughing, or even smiling, "Thats just silly what was I thinking?" In all seriousness, Noblesse couldn't help but wonder why he acted like such a child. How could his wife, a creature of calm, possibly marry man who acted like an angsty adolescent boy. 'Must be arranged...' Noblesse shivered at the thought, 'I will never marry....'

"We wish to come to an agreement upon which you and the Broken Legion will assist in protecting our city of Oshus," the Queen stated.

Protect? The Kingdoms of Linhael wouldn't dare consider The Broken Legion as a possible kingdom of their own, but had the audacity to ask for their protection? Noblesse was almost offended. She scrunched her nose and raised an eyebrow, suddenly her teen angst was showing, and she thought she was past that. Perhaps the Dwarf was influencing her energy...no...he just rubbed her the wrong way and now she had clouded vision and thought emotionally like he did. "Im sorry, do we look like mercenaries? Our men have fought hard, some have lost everything, to be more than just hired muscle," she spoke at a volume loud enough for both her father and Sophia to hear now, but not loud enough for the royalty of Oshus to hear her opinion, she knew it wasn't her turn to speak, this was her father's realm, "What would we get in return?"




(sorry I'm not gonna color code the dialogue cause I have to get ready. Also I thought Ali9910 Ali9910 's character was in her twenties? lol not a child?)

shadowz1995 shadowz1995 Britt-21 Britt-21 Soviet Panda Soviet Panda
 
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Atlantia Stinger

Wandering Grim Hollow Wandering Grim Hollow

Atlantia was invited to do some dance lessons with the prince, after all, she was one of his best friends. As a young girl, she loved this, she had fun with it as she danced along with her friend, showing the others how to dance as properly as the pair did. Her emerald-green eyes were locked with Hamilton, a large smile on her face as she clearly enjoyed the time she was spending with her best friend. Sadly, dancing didnt last too long as the Prince spun her and allowed her to bow shortly after, meeting his Bow as well "You're very welcome, Prince Hamilton." a soft giggle left her lips with the smile still planted on her face. "I love having dance lessons with you. They're very fun." the mermaid admitted. "You also dance a lot better than I ever could. Land dancing is a little harder than water dancing." but being part human she had to learn some land-people dancing. Looking down at her shoes that were covered in small seashells, she shuffled slightly, definitely insecure about her skills. Tia's head shot up and she locked eyes with the prince "Your trip!" she suddenly said "What about that trip you have to go on? Would you want your best friend to come with you?" it could be an adventure for the both of them to go on. In Tia's mind, this was an innocent question but most would think that the pair had something more going on than just being best friends. "Wouldnt you have a little more fun with me around?"

Would Hamilton even want the Mermaid with him? Or did he want to be on his own? These were questions that she could ask but asking him too many questions could agitate him so she refrained from trying to ask a million questions without allowing him to speak. I'm 14 and I still act like im 10... But I cant help it, being friends with Hamilton is really interesting. He teaches me things that many girls wouldnt really get into. she thought to herself. He's quiet, yes, he likes books too. But when you really get to know him, he isnt so bad! Hamilton never left a bad impression on her. The day she met him in person was when she found him strolling along the beach and she couldnt help but say hello! From there they kinda started to talk and Atlantia really didnt go crazy over the fact that he was the prince, she just wanted a friend. When they did become friends, one day she was hanging out with him, drinking some tea and well... Hamilton had an oopsies and managed to get some on her, causing her to turn into a mermaid right in her seat and flop over onto the floor. Thinking of this made her giggle, only to realize that she giggled aloud and her eyes widen as she looked at Hamilton "I wasnt laughing at you I promise!"
 
Overseer Sigridrifa Karà "Driffy" Wælcyrie

"Of course, your majesty, after all it is you who granted me the blessing to take the hand of marraige to my beloved Valkyrie." Sir Flynn graciously bowed towards the great and ever powerful Empress as he held the Overseer's hand, squeezing it gently. Sigridrifa however was still registering the words of the Messenger that flew into her head, was it a compliment? or was it an insult? The Overseer pondered for a bit after messenger clearly left the scene after reporting to the Empress before the firm and loving grip of her husband on her hand as well as Jacelyn's energetic voice snapped her out of being lost in thoughts.

"Ah. We shall join your highness, it is after all about to be my break from duties." Sigridrifa said before looking at the little snow white of a princess named Jacelyn and gives her a pat on the head.

"Of course. Charles would love to play with you, Your highness." This was one of the occasions where Sigridrifa smiled, smiling at the little Jacelyn who's eager to play with her son, She gently pushed Charles to Jacelyn as the little girl grabbed his hand and they ran together to the Rose wing of the palace towards its lush and beautiful gardens. The sight between the two gave Sigridrifa a warm feeling within her heart, a motherly feeling of happiness which somehow escaped the clutches of her stoic heart, was it because it is by nature as a mother and wife of a caring and loving husband? or was it because this was her first times feeling the wholesomeness in her life that's filled with tragedy, depression, and suffering? Sigridrifa didn't know the answer but despite of it. It was a sight to behold.

"My Lady Patricia." She said as the three continued their walk towards the Rose Gardens. Despite of a wholesome view right infront of them Sigridrifa couldn't help but frown.

"Is it alright for my son to be that close to the Princess? The People view me as a trash despite being one of the Heroes of Wallachia and to the Blackscales. Not to mention that incident in the court when you have granted my children the rights and title of a noble in due thanks to my Husband's linage."

"I believe it is fine, Driffy. I do not mind my son becoming the apple of the Princess's eye and perhaps this might be the chance to show to the public that not all outsiders are of scum and infact, just like them. Of course as an Oceanius noble, I am sorry for the shortsightedness of our people, but ah. the question is not for me to answer but I just gave my thoughts on it, My lovely Valkyrie."
Flynn said as he let go of her hand so that Sigridrifa would walk alongside the Empress and hear her thoughts on the matter that she has lifted. Despite of it. Flynn from the inside was at joy to find out that their son is in great relations with the Princess and that the newly formed cadet branch of House Bertholdt, House Wælcyrie of Oceanius would have a rather high prestige.


Wandering Grim Hollow Wandering Grim Hollow
 
Vanth Eventide

Vanth could feel her legs trembling beneath her, barely holding the small girl’s weight as she watched the Demon King exit the tent a few paces ahead. She watched silently, trying not to bring attention to herself as the scarlet haired woman dragged that poor screaming prisoner and practically threw him to the ground in front of her king. Is this what they did with intruders they found in the camp? Would her fate be the same?

Vanth watched as the two seemed to speak in private for a moment, before long black shadows appeared under the man’s feet and seemed to swallow him hole. The young girl had seen the demonstration, had seen the man’s power, but up close, it was a whole other level. The girl didn’t dare take an eye off the powerful demons in front of her, but it took all her willpower to not vomit where she stood, the fear having completely taken over her at this point. Vanth could not shake the evil grin the two had in front of her, the image burned into her mind. Did they actually enjoy this? Did they enjoy the terror they caused? Perhaps this is what true demons were like. The roaring in her head started once again, and her vision began to blur as the shrieking started. Vanth tried desperately to stay standing as the demon seemingly clawed at the inside of her skull. “Get me out of here! GET ME OUT!” the sent waves of nausea over her and she began to sway on her feet, moments from collapsing when the demon king suddenly turned and looked straight at her. Vanth’s eyes went wide as her uneasy breath hitched in her throat, her body went cold as ice and she froze in her place, unable to will her body to run. The shrieking, however, became worse than before and the creature was slamming, scratching, desperately trying to escape. The pain sent waves through her vision and although still frozen, Vanth could feel her hands shaking.

The demon king grew closer and as he did, Vanth could feel her heart practically bursting from her chest, that was until the overwhelming presence completely vanished. The blood rushing in her ears slowly subsided as did the waves of nausea that had been coming over her. Was this some kind of trick? What kind of game was he playing? The demon hissed, it seemingly just as unsure about the situation, but seemingly too afraid to try anything just yet. It was as if the demon had retreated as far back into herself as it could the closer the demon king came to them, almost as if it was trying to hide itself.

The king inched closer to her talking in this sweet and calming tone, the exact opposite of what she had seen up on the stage. Certainly, he didn’t think he could lure her in a false sense of security after what he had just done. Vanth took a step back, keeping her eyes locked on the man in front of her and beginning to look for opportunities to run. But, as he continued to speak, the more confusing the situation became. Child? Did he think that she was one of them? Before Vanth had a chance to reply, or to figure out exactly what was going on, he seemingly turned his attention to someone behind him, someone Vanth hadn’t seen come up. The girl seemed to be about her age, maybe a little younger, though in comparison she looked much older. From what Vanth could tell she seemed to be the king’s… daughter? What was a monster like that doing with such an innocent looking girl? Either way, wherever she was leading, it was away from the demon king and away from the red-haired demon. So, for now she’d follow and worry about escape after things had cooled down and they had once again forgotten her.

Suddenly, there was panic, and people were screaming to take cover. The girl lunged for Vanth and she instinctually recoiled before realizing that she was actually trying to guard her. Why was this girl protecting a disposable being such as herself? Shouldn’t she, the king’s daughter, be the one seeking shelter? Before Vanth could say as much, the girl immediately began dragging her towards one of the tents and Vanth struggled to keep from tripping over her own two feet as they raced across. When the girl finally freed her, allowing her to run freely, the two found themselves weaving in and out of pathways and around all types of beings Vanth had never seen before. In comparison to the crowd preparing for the battle, the two girls were small, insignificant creatures running for their lives. Hopefully the enemy would focus on some of the more menacing monster, giving her time to slip to the shadows and disappear. That was until the king’s daughter started rallying people around them. What was she doing? She was making them a target! Cursing under her breath, Vanth thought for a moment about simply ‘getting lost in the crowd’ but thought better of it, they might send a search party out looking for her after this whole fiasco was over. The last thing she wanted was a whole group of the demon king’s chasing her down.

They reached a larger tent in the direct center of the camp and rushed inside. It seemed this is where the majority of the civilians or refugees were being housed. The girl guided her towards the center were a few children and younger teens were standing. The was an older woman at the center that seemed to be trying to calm the children, though for some she seemed to be scaring them even more. Apparently, this was where she and the girl would part ways, as she was half guided, half pushed towards the group. Vanth wanted to tell the girl to watch her hands but thought better and simply gave her a nod before walking towards the group, glaring at the caretaker to keep her distance.

After the girl was gone Vanth skulked to the corner of the tent, away from the caretaker women and the snotty nosed crying children and as close to isolation as she could get in such a crowded tent and the hissing had suddenly returned. “Look what you’ve gotten us into. Now you’ve done it. Not only did you walk right into danger, you have now made yourself known to the KING of demons! Do you know what you’ve done girl?!” Vanth sighed. “Glad to see you’re back. Done cowering?” She laughed slightly to herself before throwing a glare at someone who glanced at her seemingly talking to herself. “Do not test me girl, you don’t understand his power.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I don’t? I believe that I was the one that just kept us alive back there.” It roared in answer “YOU ALMOST GOT ME KILLED!” Vanth raised an eyebrow at that. She almost got it killed? Not the both of them? What did this thing know that she didn’t?
 
Luiza Morganthau

The vampire countess and her son where headed to meet with Sebastian Roh, the Arcane Researcher of the court. Luiza was interested in the Queenslayer, not for it to come into her possession but the ancient relic was always interesting to her. The vampire also realized that becoming an aid in the research and or its possible success would surely increase her standing and power. She walked with her son Mihai, the young vampire, who was holding his mothers equally pallid hand as they grew closer and closer to their meeting destination, an audience hall with Mr Roh.

Luiza was always well dressed, a fine red dress that she was quite well known for wearing, a green center piece that left her shoulders and neckline uncovered. Mihai wore a well tailored outfit, a waistcoat and trousers of a matching deep red along with an off white linen shirt. The vampires where known for their fondness of ancient textiles and clothing, their custom tailored clothing often reflected this greatly. Mihai had his dagger concealed under his waistcoat, a small blade that his mother always made him carry.

The two vampire entered the hall, seeing Mr. Roh sitting at his desk. The two walked forward, reaching the chairs and giving Sebastian a bow before sitting down. Mihai reached forward and began to nibble on the pastry that was in front of him, while Luiza looked down at hers before back up to Sebastian. "Greetings Mr Roh, a pleasure to make your acquaintance" Luiza spoke out "Hello Mr Roh" Mihai spoke out softly. "I understand that my aid in researching the Queenslayer would be appreciated, my covens knowledge on the ancient vampiric world is rather in depth" she explained. The countess' red eyes looked on in Rohs direction, while Mihai seemed rather distracted with his pastry.

Snackofthefuture Snackofthefuture
 
Crown Prince A.Hamilton Une
Oceanius Empire, Markovia
"I see my dear little sister can't keep a secret. I should have expected as much." Hamilton chuckled, both at Atlantia's odd behavior and the thought of expecting Jacelyn to keep quiet about his trip being pushed forward instead of after Elucidation Day. He sighed, figuring that telling the truth would be better.

"Its... not that kind of trip, Atlantia. My Mother is entrusting a group of her Blackscales with me. She finally decided its time for me to see what its like out on the battlefield." Hamilton paused for a moment, taking a quick look around to see if anyone is within earshot before leaning in close. "I'm going to oversee a peacekeeping mission at the Southern Border. Its not a place for a lovely maiden such as yourself. I'm sorry Atlantia, its better if you didn't follow this time. Unless..."

"Ehem. I hope I'm not interrupting something here, Your Highness." The Prince quickly stepped away from Atlantia and turned to face the rather dour looking man flanked by two Blackscales in ebony cloaks. "Not at all, Overseer Richter. Your timing is impeccable as always."

"I do try, Your Highness. Lady Stinger, I must apologize but I'll have to steal the Prince from your lovely presence." Overseer Richter politely requested, before flashing a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'll be seeing you, Atlantia. I'll let you think over the matter we discussed, see if I can make arrangements." Hamilton shot her an apologetic look before allowing himself to be lead away by Richter.

"I take it you told her?" Richter asked the young Prince as he opened the doors to the Ballroom. Hamilton only let out a small chuckle and Richter sighed. "You do have a way with words, just like your mother..."


Britt-21 Britt-21

Empress A.Patricia Une
Oceanius Empire, Markovia
"She may be smitten with your son, Sir Flynn but I think my daughter's tastes need some refinement. Or perhaps the one that requires refinement is dear little Charles?" Patricia teased the knight before turning her attention to the slowly distant sound of the two children as they ran off ahead. Their echoing laughter pulled her back to her own happier childhood days within the confines of the Imperial Palace.

"Patty! Slow down! You'll trip!"
"I'll be fine, Medb!"
"Empress Marida won't be happy if you rip another pretty dress! Oh this child... Ah! Patty! Don't climb through the wi-! Patricia!"


"Your Grace?" The kindly and familiar voice pulled her back to the present. A kindly older woman wearing an immaculate uniform stood before her carried a tray laden with teacups and a teapot. "My apologies. It seems I am a little late with setting your tea out."

"Its nothing to apologize about, Irma. I'm in no rush for the time being." Patricia smiled at the older woman. Irma had been somewhat of an older sister of sorts during the Empress' childhood, forming a rather close but purely professional bond.

"I know that look, Your Grace. Thinking of the bygone days again?" Irma started, looking rather stern before her expression softened into a smile. "I wouldn't be surprised. The young Princess is starting to play the same games you and Lady Waelcyrie played back then. Nearly drove poor Kris to madness with the mess they made with his favourite rose bushes."

"Children will be children, Irma. I'm just happy to provide them with a peaceful childhood." Patricia wistully looked out a nearby window, the echoing laughter of the past clear in her mind. "Yes... A peaceful childhood."


Princess A.Jacelyn Une
Oceanius Empire, Markovia
"Hurry up Charles! I bet we can catch Medb napping at her spot again!" Jacelyn called out to the young squire as she ran ahead through the familiar hallways before pushing open a set of doors to the Palace's Rose Garden.

"Good evening, Princess." An Imperial Praetorian guard greeted her as she zipped past. The young Princess happily waved in reply before she ran towards the rowan tree at the center of the garden.

"Medb! Medb, are you still napping here you silly thing?" She called out for her pet pygmy hippogryph but was saddened to see that her beloved pet was somewhere else. "Aww... I wonder where she flew off to..."

As the Princess wondered, she watched as the leaves and flowers swayed in the breeze that blew through the garden. She smiled as a loose leaf from the rowan tree blew free and spiraled through air. She reached out and gently plucked it out of the air, giggling with delight at her success.

"Enjoying this fine weather, Princess?" A familiar voice called out. Knowing full well from the light clatter of armour, she turned to face the armoured man kneeling to meet her eye level.

"Grandpa Bors!" Jacelyn hugged the aged knight as he gently returned it with a warm smile. "I thought you would be back next week! Oh Mother will be so surprised to see you here!"
Tch. Why are you back so soon? Just when she's starting to listen to me more.

"I thought it would be a pleasant surprise for your Mother. I brought back some good news too. Hm? Did you come here to play too, Young Waelcyrie?" Sir Bors asked, noticing Charles' approach.


Kokurai Gaisgeach Kokurai Gaisgeach
 

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NADIAN, RULER OF IGNEIUM


The Beginning of the End

The sound of the blacksmiths' hammering on the fiery white plates of steel reverberated through Nadian's entire body as she walked by the forges, the fire casting shimmering reflections off of her scales. It was a beautiful, clamoring mess that gave her a thrill. These forges had lain dormant for years, her ancestors content with their days of battles and wars and instead lying content with simply gaining wealth via taxes. The ocean became their constraint, the one place they wouldn't cross. Nadian loved visiting the coastal towns because of the new people and different sites she never experienced in the capital. Her people used to be great conquerors and thought the continent was the limit. Well, Nadian would open up the rest of the world for her people to roam. It was a huge feat, and Nadian knew she needed to do it out of the eye of the people for now. They wouldn't understand now after being content with what they had now. Nadian had spent months reading on the lands past the ocean and there was so much out there and more. It was a sense of curiosity that motivated her, but there was also the need to make a name for herself. She literally fought tooth and nail for this position that was rightfully hers. Nadian was going to prove to her people why she had this position once more, only this time she would be ushering in something entirely new.


She had relit the ancient forges her ancestors had built in the years of expansion and conquering. The fires had nearly leapt to the coal out of their own volition when she had lit them and that same eagerness swept Nadian up with it as well. She had prayed in the Church of the Divine time after time, hoping for a sign as to what to do with her idea. Her dreams had become confusing after the first visit to the church and they began troubling her. There were visions of her son bleeding gold upon the throne from cuts in his stomach, his eyes open and always meeting hers with those icey blues. She tried reaching out but her hands were dripping gold as well, and when she screamed they always melted and she woke up with a lurch. After those dreams came the ones with her sailing across the sea, the wind in her hair and the taste of salt on her tongue. The sky would darken, and then the sea would start to boil and churn. Land was on the horizon but the ship began to sink before they got any closer. Nadian would jump off the ship and try to swim but the water refused to let her surpass it and she always sunk, deep deep down until she awoke gasping for breath. Thankfully her husband was rarely at her side for such night terrors and she could conceal what was on her mind. He had many secrets and she wanted some of her own.
Nadian pressed on, enlisting shipbuilders to create her metal warships for the voyage to new lands. As her supplies grew and grew, it began time to enact her plan.
❧❧❧

Khajida's powers were once more in flux, causing emotional outbursts that blew holes in the ceiling, sneezes that incinerated furniture, and lots and lots of injuries to the servants and slaves alike. Wo'ya simply watched on, finding the situations all very humorous despite his mother's constant nitpicking. However, tonight seemed to be a calm one despite the odds stacked against them, and Nadian finally allowed herself to relax for once. The trio spend the day outside in the palace grounds with lunch and dinner served as the hours slipped by.

The children spent most of the day fighting as siblings seemed to be drawn to and Nadian once again noticed Wo'ya's lack of abilities. Khajida was sending waves of fire while Wo'ya simple yelled and waved his sword around as wave after wave hit him. Thankfully he was naturally protected even though he probably thought he was saving his own skin. She mostly watched her daughter's efforts with a smile on her face. It was good that her daughter got to experience using her powers throughout her life and got to grow up with them. As for Wo'ya, she wasn't sure if he even had them or not.

"Attack her back properly Wo'ya, like a true Kashara!" Nadian yelled to her son who didn't give a sign that he even heard her as he kept up his routine. His sister soon grew bored and came to sit by her mother who welcomed her onto the rug that had been lain out in the grass while Wo'ya continued to fight his invisible opponent.

"How are your powers progressing bibbi? I've hears quite the reports from the servants." Khajida huffed in agitation and one of the tiger lilies burst into flame. Nadian waved the fire away as quickly as it had come and gently cupped her daughter's face.

"This is not something you learn overnight. You have all of this power in you. Look how small you are! You have to be strong enough to contain it and make it do your bidding only when you want it. Make it behave." Nadian sad as she playfully squeezed her daughters cheek which elicited a smile and the familiar gleam of willpower in her eyes.

"Can you pleeeeeease train me a bit?" Khajida then said as she showed her mother those puppy dog eyes. Nadian gave her a mischievous smile and and Khajida cheered and rushed to slither a few paces away in the dirt and Nadian joined her. Wo'ya paused his training session to watch for a few seconds but resumed much to Nadian's annoyance but she just bit her tongue and focused on Khajida. They spent the hour working on Khajida's control with some exercises Nadian created and then she sent some fireballs towards her for her to reflect. Soon Khajida abandoned her own plan and just focused entirely on sending fireball after fireball into the night sky while Nadian went to go eat a fresh plate of caadva a servant had set out earlier. She had just started chewing when she heard a thump. Khajida's scream echoed across the garden as Nadian turned around to see Wo'ya facedown, his eyes meeting hers while blood seeped through his white locks.
❧❧❧
The months that followed were eventful after the incident for not only the royal family but for the country of Igneium. Prince Wo'ya was killed with what was identified as a "Bolter," native to the Oceanius kingdom which stirred up even more rage besides the fact that the criminal hadn't been found. Nadian had collapsed over his body and never even saw the killer while Khajida was paralyzed staring at her brother's body. He had been hit 8 times in his chest, a quick and painless death they had reassured her when she went to see the body after days of bed rest. She was stiff-jointed and not an emotion crossed her face through it all. She felt like she had a weight so heavy on her chest that she couldn't even cry. Her body wasn't allowing her to, and so she carried on in silence. Viktor had been hit as well and she saw him even less.

Nadian didn't allow her son's death to be nothing more than a tragic event. Wo'ya was the figurehead of the war declaration on Oceanius in the weeks that followed, and now Igneium was spurning to action. The city began to come alive despite the black drapes everywhere. All eyes were focused on Oceanius with the wrath of a thousand fires while Nadian couldn't meet its gaze.

❧❧❧

The torch in Nadian's hand flickered as the moved through the tunnel, the occasional breeze managing to waft through. That meant she was close to the surface. She slithered through the opening of the cave into the sandy plains. The city loomed to the left of her like some hulking creature and for a moment Nadian was enraptured by the sight until she picked up on footsteps of a four legged beast. She focused intently on the face until it came into view and she recognized the black-haired human to be Falkor. His horse refused to get within ten feet of Nadian and so the man slid down and let the creature go without restraints. Nadian was more curious about the beast, but it remained dutifully steadfast much to the Ruler's disappointment. The man approaching gave her a cheerful smile which she didn't return.
"A lot has passed since we last spoke, aye? You should see how much chaos this has caused. Who knew the death of one kid could do all of this?"

"Yes. Who knew." Nadian said dryly as she took in the man's new finery. She had paid him his first half and he had been quick to spend it and was now ready for more. She had met him while on a vacation to Dorthrai many moons ago when she noticed him in a tavern. He had very few morals, a member of the Oceanius army, and a pretty good shot. He knew nothing about her but she had disguised her tail and covered her hair so she could escape her guards and keep her identity a secret in case. She didn't give more details than necessary, just the location, the day, and the target. He had refused at first like she thought, but she saw through him. He was a lonely seafaring man who never had a roof over his head that was his. He was only 25 and looked twice his age from the few years in the military. Poor people spoke the same language, and when she told him how much he would make she could see his eyes bulge. Half upfront, the rest four moons later in the location of her choosing. He had used his weapon like a fool and Nadian had the whole country at her back to finally breach the lands across the ocean. He was a sacrifice, a very dear one that was necessary. Khajida had a direct path to the throne and now they had a chance to dominate the rest of the world. This very simple man had played a very important part of the world's history for Nadian's pocket change. It he had kept him fat and content for long enough. She held the cloak around her as she approached the man and in a flash her hand gripping his throat in her grip.

"Hopefully there are no hard feelingsss." She whispered as he erupted into flames. His screams never made it out and she held him there until the flesh beneath her palms eventually were reduced into ashes. Nadian retreated into the shadows of the tunnel once more.
That night she dreamed of the throne again. Wo'ya was sitting on the throne, the cuts were gone but his eyes were gold and he didn't bear any expressions. A figure came out from behind the throne and Nadian saw that it was Ga'neel. They both glowed with a golden brilliance until they faded out and were replaced with the view of the island from Nadian's other dream. The jolt of the ship felt real as Nadian gazed out. The water was still boiling and she could feel the heat ten times worse now, but the island was getting larger and larger. Nadian woke up as the ship saw the shore and finally cried for the first time in what felt like forever.

The next morning, Nadian rose with a different air about her. The servants moved quietly around her as they fitted the golden metallic material over her head and let it fan out like a sheet. Her hair was braided and decorated with golden chains and rubies, a golden belt was tightened around her waist. Necklaces were hung around her and a crown were affixed before the servants quickly rushed out of the room. She made her way downstairs and then out into the courtyard. Khajida was being led to the carriage that a single daimonio was tied to. Nadian entered and the guards began filing after the carriage. Khajida had grown more sullen and withdrawn and the family were all very bad with their words. Thankfully her daughter allowed her to hug her, and then put her face into Nadian's arm and cry. It was random but Nadian wasted no time comforting her daughter until her sobs were nothing more hiccups and a runny nose as she clung to Nadian.

"I know things are confusing right now and you're very strong Khajida, you're going to be a very strong Ruler my dear. We are doing this all for him." Khajida sniffled as Nadian spoke, only turning her face into the crook of her mother's arm until she eventually fell asleep to the carriage's jolty rhythm. Nadian stayed awake for the 4 hour trip to the coast where most of the fleet lay. It was a brilliant sight to behold indeed, and even Khajida arose and looked at them with interest. Soldiers were setting up camp and Nadian watched them bustle around with pride. This is where the rebirth of Ingeium would start.
 
Overseer Sigridrifa Karà "Driffy" Wælcyrie

She watched her son and the Princess playfully run around the gardens paying no heed to the obvious provocation towards her by her long time close friend, Empress Patricia. Seeing the two children puts a small smile to her face giving her some inner peace that her kids have a better childhood than hers to which it was taken away many years ago by the dark crevasses of humanity that crept out of the recesses of human nature.

A familiar voice caught her attention, facing towards the source she found out it was none other than Irma who was apologizing to Patricia for having a late set up for Tea. She remembers her all too well, one of the maids assigned to take care of her, The late Medb and the current Empress Patricia when they were younger. In her mind she couldn't believe that her liberation from slavery turned her to who she was now, a position higher than ever granted by her beloved best friend and living better than she was many years ago.

Her mind ran freely before a realization has struck her mind. "Flynn my love. Charles' birthday is coming up soon. I think he deserves some rest from training."

"Ah you're right my valkyrie. He shall be taking a break from training, besides... he is rather skilled already at such age... I might make his Birthday a special one, ja? And perhaps it will help in refining Charles to be the absolute greatest taste for the Princess." The Aerial Knight smugly smiles as he said that.

She chuckled at her husband's statement of refining their son to suit the princess's taste. A rare sight to behold to anyone who knows her constant emotionless figure.

"And don't forget our daughter. I believe she was with Prince Hamilton last I saw her." She said as she turns to look at the two children. Her eye widened a bit when she saw an Old knight wearing a familiar armor talking to them. "Is that... Sir Bors?"



Aerial Squire Charles Wælcyrie

"Yes Sir! Aerial Knight Charles Wælcyrie at your service! Well... soon to be a Knight, but! I'm getting there." The young squire saluted at the old knight in front of him. His basic squire attire looks rather rugged compared to the princess's dress and the Old Knight's armor, but despite of it, he didn't care and showed his respect towards him instead, after a few seconds his stern expression changes instantly to a heartwarming smile of innocence as he proudly presents himself before Sir Bors, holding the princess's hand as they were playfully running together.

"We were looking for Medb the Pygmy Hippogryph. have you seen her? she's not on her usual sleeping spot." He frowned a little before returning to his innocent smile towards the old knight.


Wandering Grim Hollow Wandering Grim Hollow
 
Deshwitat L. Rubdich
The dark kings's head tilted back as he looked down upon the Dwarf King. The more he spoke, the thicker the very air around the "negotiators" became. It was becoming harder to breathe for all individuals in the vicinity. Monsters and Men alike. The azure burn of the demon's fury dimmed a significant amount and was quickly replaced with a cold glare. It was clear Deshwitat's hostility had not dulled any but his emotions wasn't factoring in as much. This was mainly because of the dwarf king's downright idiocy. It seemed he was at least vaguely aware of how powerful the Dark Lord was. Though, obviously Otrygg was severely underestimating exactly how utterly outmatched he was. Sure, the bombing run would have caused some casualties. Perhaps enough casualties to even be impactful. But the result would be a total loss for the brightfolk. None of their forces would leave alive. Deshwitat would personally see to that.

Otrygg was brash, foolish, clearly stubborn, and highly hostile. All things that King Rubdich knew and understood after the first sentence left the dwarf's mouth. But it was clear that the stout male was also blunt. Honest. Idiotically so. So, while his words were more than enough reason for Deshwitat to rip and tear every single enemy before him to sunders, it also meant that he could take the dwarf's words at face value. He was too stupid to lie or manipulate. Clearly, that was the job of his partner. The arachne or Hysh, as they called themselves, on the other hand was the real threat in this parlay. Calm, collected, proud, intelligent, and seemingly the persuasive one. The soft touch to the dwarf's rough edge.

'Or the assassin's knife.', Desh thought to himself.

The dark king's gaze flicked to the spider woman as she spoke, listening to her and to Noblesse's little interjections. If they weren't in a high tension situation, he actually would have found her little heated quips to be comical. Desh put a hand on his daughter's shoulder to still her stirring anger, giving her a comforting squeeze before taking a step forward to address the duo.

The well-spoken Hysh was someone King Rubdich could not trust. He didn't trust people who were good at politics. Their words always held a veiled threat or honeyed poison. Things he was well aware he could not pick up on very well. "Speak o-"

The dwarf responded to his partner before the dark lord could respond and only succeeded in getting a twitch of anger out of Deshwitat. He turned his attention to Otrygg now, bringing the full weight of his ire down to bear on the stout male. "You know how we think, do you? Then I can assume you know that I can and will slaughter each and every one of you here before you have the chance to say 'Oops.' if you insult my people again. Correct?" He hissed. It was clearly a rhetorical question. If the small king wasn't aware, he would find out very soon if he spoke out of turn once more. "Hold your tongue, Dwarf. Otherwise, your people won't find themselves under a boot. They'll be inside a mass grave." Deshwitat then turned his azure gaze back to Caralyss and continued his previously halted response, "From what I understand, Oshus does not have any Elysian royalty present. This means that I can single-handedly swallow your entire city in darkness, leaving none alive. So pray tell, Hysh... Exactly what do I gain from not wiping your city off the face of Linheal and claiming it for my hordes."

Soviet Panda Soviet Panda Britt-21 Britt-21 Fluffy-Kat Fluffy-Kat Ali9910 Ali9910
 

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