NationStates Jolt Archive

(1000 years ago)

“So, it has come to this.”

“Your majesty?” asked the armoured man.

“I have no heir, our kingdom is in ruins, and we are here, in the last keep of Milantos.”

“And what do you suggest we do, sir? Give up? Surrender?” the soldier replied quietly.

“Do not patronize me, Porlestis. You know what we will do. We will FIGHT!” roared the King.

***

Pa’Ruk glared at the food. It glooped. This was the best the Khan could provide for him? His tribe were the best in the army. And he was being given some kind of…foreign soup. No meat in his ration, or his men’s. Gloop, and some strange drink.

“Boy, what is this…Wine?”

“No, my lord, it is fruit extract, unfermented,” replied the boy. He was obviously not an Maveran. His skin was pale white and his hair fair.

“Fruit extract?” asked Pa’Ruk, his voice dangerously quiet.

“I’ll go and see if I can get hold of something stronger, my lord,” the boy said quickly.

Pa’Ruk looked at the glass object the Khan had given him. It reflected whatever was thrust in front of it. Currently, it showed Pa’Ruk’s slanted eyes, brown skin and topknot. The shamans didn’t like the objects being given out to people.

Pa’Ruk rather liked it. It showed what was really there, unlike the shamans…They talked a lot of mubo-jumbo and nonsense about how they could see souls. Pa’Ruk didn’t think there was such a thing. There was only the body, blood, and war. That was what life was. War.

***

The Duke lounged. His natural mode of living was lounging. He lounged even when fighting. And yet he won. His off-hand style and arrogance seemed, if anything, to help his fighting style.

So, one thousand troops were currently in his castle. Eating his food, manning his battlements. It was hard to endure.

But the line of the Duke of Estalia was renowned for its endurance. He would get through this. The King had better reward him for his loyalty. The only reason he hadn’t betrayed his Majesty was because he doubted the Maverans would allow him to remain a vassal…they would swallow his fief whole.

***

Nestor opened his eyes.

]]The Maverans have almost reached the castle of Doroch Estalia. There are three hundred thousand of them. They will crush the Milantosians.]] he pulsed.

¦¦Then why are we going to assist them?¦¦ asked Leander.

]]Because there is a possible satisfactory end. And our presence will help that possible end’s chances.]]

¦¦Abbot, what are your views?¦¦

::Let us head to Doroch Estalia.::

***

OOC:

The following parts are available for play:

King Ulrich
William, Duke of Estalia
First Gan Porlestis

Abbot Andar
Nestor
Leander
Tamus

Dengir Khan
Pa'Ruk
The Boy

TG me or post here if you're interested.

Some background info:

The Maverans are a nomadic barbarian people, sweeping all before them.

Milantos is, even back then, a Christian state, but it doesn't have full governmental control over all modern elements; Estalia is only a vassal at this point in time, whilst the modern state of Mavera is entirely independent, and controlled by Dengir Khan.

This is a key point in Milantosian history, as it was when religion and state became as clsoe as they are now.

I will not participate, but we will send a camera team back in time to film it.

:lol:

Just don't go too near Dengir. ;)

I'd be interested in RPing The Boy.

OOC:

King Ulrich - the King of Milantos
William, Duke of Estalia - the lord of the Doroch Estalia, and vassal of the King
First Gan Porlestis - the senior Milantosian general

Abbot Andar - Abbot of the Thirty's monastery
Nestor - a very flawed man of noble descent. However, he is brave and intelligent.
Leander - a logical, cold thinker...but still perfectly caring, etc. It's just he sees things far more logically than other members of the Thirty.
Tamus - a fiery young man, who cares for eveyr life, even those of his enemies.

Dengir Khan - Great Khan of the Maverans, intelligent, inquisitive and actually rather civilized. Good company. He wishes to make Mavera a world power, and has thus far found no opponent who can stand before him.
Pa'Ruk - Khan of the Screaming Bear tribe. Arrogant, and not too happy with Dengir. He dislikes civilization, yet is vain enough to like the mirror.
The Boy - a slave of unknown origin.

I'd be interested in RPing The Boy.

Sure thing. I'll TG you some info.

I'd be interested in RPing The Boy.

Sure thing. I'll TG you some info.

Righto. Thanks!

Any other takers?

The boy walks hurriedly, ruminating to himself. His eyes flit about him, taking in every detail - almost subconsciously, it would seem.

"No fruit extract for Pa'Ruk, then....", he murmurs, inaudible to all save himself.

[ooc: I imagine a sort of tented encampment. Is that about right?]

The boy walks hurriedly, ruminating to himself. His eyes flit about him, taking in every detail - almost subconsciously, it would seem.

"No fruit extract for Pa'Ruk, then....", he murmurs, inaudible to all save himself.

[ooc: I imagine a sort of tented encampment. Is that about right?]

Yurts. Lots of yurts. Yurts further than the eye can see. There was a big yurt in the middle, around 200 feet square.

Dengir's audience tent, I should think, Nestor thought.

(no female's to rp :cry: ..ah well...maybe next time)

::We are gathered, then.:: said Tamus.

]]Yes. We will march for Doroch Estalia on the morrow. Abbot, what are our vocations?]]

::Leander, you are the Eyes of the Thirty. You see what is truly there, and your logic is ever present.::

::Yes, Father Abbot.::

@@Good luck, Leander!@@ pulsed Leria.

::Tamus, you are the Heart of the Thirty, your emotions are strong, and your resolve stronger.::

>>Yes, Father Abbot.>> replied the short brown-haired man.

::Nestor, you are the Voice of the Thirty. You made that clear when you said you would march for Estalia.::

]]But Father Abbot, I only said that because I have military experience...I do not wish to be voice!]]

::Nonetheless, you shall be. The true core of a person always shines through; you are the Voice. I shall be the Soul.::

(no female's to rp :cry: ..ah well...maybe next time)

*quickly inserts Lady Tania, daughter of the Duke*

[ooc: Yurts. Mmmmm.]

The boy walks on, eyeing the endless expanse of yurts. Around him, rough, battle-thrawn men walk about, content for the moment to ignore him - as if he was no more than a drone.

Ye gods, these people really do like yurts. Why, of course, I have no idea.

He closes his eyes momentarily, sniffing.

I smell.... alcohol? Yes, quite distinctive.

He trots towards the yurt, hoping to acquire some fermented drink for Pa'Ruk.

(I'll rp lady Tania then..thanks :lol: )

Lady Tania approaches her father. Her long strawberry blonde hair flowed to her waist in soft curls. The light from the windows reflected it's luster and shine. Her emerald eyes sparkled with life. Her skin was fair and soft, and her figure was slender, yet strong. She was a young spirit...arrogent, headstrong...qualities she apparently got from her father. She was curious...but that wasn't a bad thing. Curiosity didn't kill the cat...it just made kittens. She was eloquent and well refinded, but there was something still child like about this woman. She was around twenty five years old. She placed a hand on her father's shoulder.
"What is on you're mind?" she said softly in her familiar melodic voice.

"Oh, Tani! I thought it was one of the King's men...one of those blasted fools strutting around in armour when we're outnumbered 300 to one."

Tania. The one joy of the aging Duke's life. Strong-willed and intelligent. The Duke was proud of her.

"You know, since your mother died, things in this country have gone downhill. I wonder if they're related...first the crops fail, then the young Prince died in that battle, and now the Maverans decide they want to kill us all and use our livers as wine skins. But as long as I have you, I'm sure I'll get through."

He gave a lopsided smile.

"My Lord?"

The boy enters the tent obsequiously, carefully keeping his gaze low. In one pale hand he carries a large skin of strong wine, gleaned from a Maveran with much cajoling and smooth words.

"Your wine, my lord."

Damn this life. I just had to be out foraging when the Maverans came rampaging through.

"You drink some first, boy. I want to make sure you haven't poisoned it. Go on, drink!" shouted Pa'Ruk.

The warriors who had arrived in the yurt since the boy left laughed. One threw a rock at him.

"Drink, or I will torture you towards a horrible, horrible death."

Tani looked at her father... She never wanted to tell her father what she had been doing...as fear to frighten him. But she was going to do it...and she was going to do it tonight. She already had the letter written, and by morning, they would only be outnumbered 200 to 1....if all went according to plan. As truthful and virtuous as Tani was...she had a knack for deception. This would be the only time she would deceive her father.

"Soon this will all be over, father." she said with an unusually confident smile. "I will leave you to rest, I have the urge to write more of that book I was working on...It's a brilliant story, father. I give it to you when I have finished it. Good day father...*she smiled and with that she turned and left the room.

She went up to her quarters and sat on the bed. The white sheets felt comforting to the touch. She wrote the final page of her book and set it on the table with her letter addressed to her father. She locked the door and made sure that no one was around in the halls. She lifted up a floor board and removed a brilliant sword, elaboratedly engraved and crafted with the family's embleem. She unsheathed it and sliced the air with amazing speed and grace. She had been practicing in this room for a very long time. Her father would never let her fight. He would say it was a job for the knights. She was skilled and quick though. Tonight would begin her journey.
http://www.medievaltimes.com/giftshop/200/9%20templar%20gold.jpg

With his free hand, he rubs his shoulder, where the rock glanced off.

Ach, another day, another welt.

Altogether nonplussed, the boy takes a sip of the potent wine, making quite a show of swallowing the burning fluid.

Terrible stuff. Deadens the mind and body, perhaps even the soul.

"No poison, my lord."

OOC: I'll switch scene for a minute here, give some more time for volunteers. :)

IC:

Famger sighed. It was damn cold on the walls at night, and he had patrol for the next six. All because he had grumbled about the food. Dun Terman was a right bastard.

He heard a noise behind him, and he sprung up, sword in hand.

"Don't worry, boy, only me, only old Petr."

The grizzled old veteran moved into the light. It shined hideously off the stump of left arm. Scars criss-crossed his face.

"Damn cold night, eh? I hard what Terman did. He's just a bit nervous, trying to keep things together. He's not a bad fellow," said the old man.

"You're not the one he's dumped on patrol for a week," said Famger, with feeling.

"No, I do that anyway. But if he did punish me, in the state he's in, I'd forgive him. He has a wife and children too, you know."

"Don't know what any woman would want with him!"

"Well, he's brave, earns a lot of money - well, in peacetime, anyway - and he's a good father..."

"Still, I don't like him."

"Boy, you always say that about people you turn out to be friends with. Didn't you say you didn't like me because I was dismissive and rude?"

***

Pela Khan sat on the dirt, eyes closed. The fumes of the burning lorassium swirled around him, but he was powerful enough not to really need it.

Dengir sat across from him, watching expectantly.

"The spirits say a silver mist passes over the land from the far west. They cannot see what it is. I cannot either. And they say Pa'Ruk hates you."

"I knew that, Pela. But the first thing...well, that is intriguing. We will see. Thankyou, Pela."

With his free hand, he rubs his shoulder, where the rock glanced off.

Ach, another day, another welt.

Altogether nonplussed, the boy takes a sip of the potent wine, making quite a show of swallowing the burning fluid.

Terrible stuff. Deadens the mind and body, perhaps even the soul.

"No poison, my lord."

"Well, I would expect you to say that. You'd be the one to poison it!" Pa'Ruk laughed raucously. His cronies joined in.

"Good stuff!" he said, downing half the skin.

"Now, boy, go...Your round eyes disturb my thinking!"

[Assuming you leave the tent]

Rekta looked up.

"Oh, don't worry, boy. He won't kill you, he's too lazy to do any of his own dirty work. All he likes is the killing."

The raven-haired warrior grinned.

***

OOC:

Parts now available as well:

Famger
Petr

Pela Khan, the shaman
Rekta

[While we wait for volunteers, I need to hit the sack...]

The boy bows respectfully to Rekta, keeping up the obedient facade..... for the sake of his own life.

"If you say so, my lord."

[While we wait for volunteers, I need to hit the sack...]

The boy bows respectfully to Rekta, keeping up the obedient facade..... for the sake of his own life.


"None of that goddamned "my lord" rubbish! My father was a goatherd and my mother was as near a whore as you can get without being paid. I would say you're not any worse than me."

Pela Khan watched Dengir leave.

He motioned to a figure in the shadows. It stepped forward, revealing a tall, thin man. His eyes were baggy, and his bones prominent.

"Gather my acolytes. Tonight, we fly."

"Yes, Pela Khan," said the man.

It was nearing evening, and Tania took the book and the letter down to where her father sat. He had his back to her. She placed it silently on the table behind him. The letter lay on top of the book neatly. She looked at her father and backed away slowely before turning to the door and pausing for a moment. Was she really going to do this? She was. She stepped through the door and made her way back up into her room.
She pulled her hair back tightlty. A long cloak was pulled around her. It was black and tough. It was the first time she had ever worn pants. The tight fabric clung to her legs, but she quickly got used to the movement. Black boots were pulled up and concealed under the cuff of the pants. A thick belt lay around her waist, two daggers on the sides. It would be hard to tell who she was in the cover of the night. She pulled the hood of the cloak over her head and concealed the sword at her right hip. After it was all set, she sheathed it and unsheathed it, making sure that she would be able to pull it out as quickly as possible.

As she passed through the halls she looked in the room her father was in. He was facing the opposite direction, the letter and book still on the table untouched...she guessed he was sleeping. "Goodbye father..." she whispered before heading off.

The letter read:

Father,
By the time you read this, I will already be gone. Do not look for me...you have to win this battle and protect this land. I will see you, but you will not see me. I am alive and well. If you notice I have stolen the silver daggers from the wall. I must confess that the sword that you had lost so long ago is in my possesion to protect me. I love you dearly...and wish it could be different.
From your daughter with love,
Tania

The book was about the tale of a girl whom lost her mother, and grew up learning from her father. Her father was a duke, and she loved him dearly. She stole a sword and hid it under a floor board...the story began with: Tania looked up to her father and smiled, what a wonderful....

A camera man follows Tania intending to film her plan.
Cameras are being places on the walls and on a hill overlooking the camp.

OOC: Make 'em notice us! That would be real funny.

Tania turns around instantly and sees a camera... "This is a quality Rp, not a film festival!" she glares evilly at it for a moment, unsheathes her sword and drives the blade through the heart of the camera man. She sheathes her blade...and if nothing happend, continues to make her way out...

William looked down at the letter. His eyes were closed, red with tears and fury. She had gone.

"John! Come here!" he roared.

The elderly servant came in through the door swiftly.

"Yes, master?" he asked, his eyebrows raised.

"You know she has gone?"

"Yes. A maid saw her leave, master," responded John, voice even.

"Have her questioned as to what direction Tani took," the Duke ordered quietly.

"Yes, master. People will ask why it is so important that Lady Tania does what you want."

"Because Tani is my DAUGHTER, and she means everything to me!"

"Yes, master."

Tani leaves the castle...her identity well disguised. She walks quietly in the darkness, her hand on the hilt of her sword. She would not let her father lose all of this. She would fight to the bitter end. She had everything in life...but her life lacked adventure. This had been what she was craving for some time now...

(ooc: must go for now, be back later)

::Leander, you are troubled.::

¦¦This mission is doomed. Why die for THIS?¦¦

::I see no other causes to die for. We should try. It is God's will.::

¦¦Or Satan's.¦¦

::Perhaps, but I doubt Satan would back Dengir. There's simpler ways of helping his plans than getting us into this battle.::

Bump.

Porlestis sighed. The horde looked unstoppable. Three hundred thousand, by his estimate. A battle-hardened army, conqueror of a dozen other fiefdoms.

Even with the old men and teenagers armed, the army of Milantos only reached one and a half thousands. The Duke's chaplain was cheerful, predicting holy deliverance, but Porlestis was a soldier, and so was a bit less metaphysical than that.

But the chaplain had said something very strange.

"Holy comes in metaphysical and physical forms, my friend."

Pa'Truk BUMPed into a warrior, before staggering off to where the...recreation section was kept. Nice women.

OOC:

Any more takers? So far:

Rave Shentavo is Princess Tania
Anhierarch is the Boy
Gehenna Tartarus is probably going to be Tamus
and Edolia might (unlikely) play some ancient Edolians

OOC:

By the way, it is possible for any result to occur.

Hubertos of the Snake looked down off the rocky outcrop towards the band raiders below. "I've never seen such interesting looking soldiers," he said to the short man at his side, fingering the string of his powerful composite bow. "Well, I don't expect them to put up much of a fight. There's only a dozen of them. And they have nice ponies. I like their ponies. Order the attack." The little man raised his hands to his lips and let out a short yipping noise, like the sound of a coyote. Immediately, a group of warriors, dressed like these two, in hide armor and carrying bent and twisted bows popped up from behind the outcropping, peppering the Marevians down below with arrows...

"What the hell!?" screamed one of the patrols as his comrade went down. Pulling out his bow, he placed an arrow to it. Drew...

"Nice shot, boss," laughed Gerivald of the Rat, looking up at his chief. "He was about to shoot too." Hubertus of the Snake, Chief of the Blattersplitti smiled a predatory smile and turned to the small group of warriors with him. "Collect up their belongings and bring them back to camp. Those horses will be a benefit to our people. We haven't gotten our hands on such fine beasts since that raid two years ago on the people of Yaz.

Back at camp, Hubertus and his band was greeted by his people. As was customary for warriors who had just come back from a successful raid, he ducked into the nearest tipee to quickly enjoy the company of a young, red-headed comely lass. Retying his breeches as he walked out of the hide tent, he addressed his men. "We have encounted a new tribe of people. A tribe of horse-riding warriors. As you can see from these fine beasts that we have brought back with us, they are rich in horses. I tell you now, that the men of Blattersplittus shall take these horses for ourselves!" A bloodthirsty cry of glee rose from the ranks of warriors. "Death to the enemy! Glory to the Blattersplitti! Long live Hubertus of the Snake!"

<<OOC: Well, if you have any knowledge of Edolia (which I don't think that any countries besides Milantos here do) you will notice a few things. One, is the name of the tribe. The name of the modern capital of Edolia (Blatterschplitt) is a corruption of this tribe's name. I invision the Blattersplitti as a group of raiding, warrior nomads who have come up from the warm south. Also, you will notice a reference to a raid made of the "Yaz." This refers to the nation of Yasmarea, a country conquered and currently controlled by modern-day Edolia.>>

Tania made her way over the inner and outer walls. Her sword wasn't drawn, but she was ready to fight. The black cloak was pulled tightly around her, and her identity still hidden. Not to far off she could see a camp of some sort...obviously of the people attacking...She escaped into the shadow of a tree and watched the happenings... She watched as horses were lead to the camp...they were from her father's knights...they must have been...
She didn't let the though cross her mind. The idea of the duke's daughter in combat was proposterious...but that was what was happening. She felt the sword through the thick fabric of her coat...her dagger were latched on either side of her, concealed by the billowing black fabric. A strand of strawberry blonde hair fell across her emerald eyes as she watched the camp.

Lazarus looked at the wagon. The awkward looking pieces of wood were piled up so high, the vehicle was shaking a little.

"Move it about 300 metres forward, then unload. We'll build in a few days time, when the Khan orders it."

Pa'Truk stepped forward.

"Master Engineer, I suggest I escort them. That's very close to enemy ground," he said, a smile fixed upon his face.

"Chieftain, if you so wish, do so, by all means," replied Lazarus, returning the smile, and staring at the Maveran chieftain.

"Boy? Where are you? BOY!" shouted Pa'Truk.

(where are the boy and Pa-Truk...and which side are they on...sorry...i get confused easily lol :P )

OOC:

Pa'Truk is a Maveran chieftain. :) The boy is his servant.

(ooc: heh heh...oh...right..I knew that. :D )

Tania could hear someone shouting for a boy...or something of the sort. She clenched onto the tree in it's shadow..hoping she hadn't been spooted. She slinks down, her back pressed into the bark, as if the closer she could get to the tree, the more chance she had of not being seen. She suddenly wished she was back with her father. However, the notion quickly slipped out of her mind as she refocused on her purpose.

OOC: I'll leave that for a while, give Anhierarch a chance to get in.

IC:

Ulrich sighed. The horde was immense. He didn't know know how his army could hold. Perhaps he should have pulled back to Galania, the Earl there had raised his own army, a larger one, in fact, then the one in this fortress.

But at the time, it hadn't seemed wise. There were more supplies and less attack routes here. But nonetheless, Ulrich knew if he lost here, that might be the decision that sealed his fate.

4000 women, children and very old men were in the keep and caves. The caves were man-made. Well, maybe not man-made, but at least hand-made. Or tentacle-made, thought Ulrich, smiling.

First Gan Porlestis surveyed the troops around him.

"You there soldier! You call that sword sharp?!"

"I... I..." the soldier stammered.

"Do you want to be fighting with that?"

"No, sir, please, I just..."

"Just make sure that it's sharp when they get here."

"Yes sir!" said the soldier, eager to please.

Despite his weariness and worry of the coming battle, Porlestis allowed himself one small inward smile. Some things never changed...

...

Porlestis walked up to the King's chambers. It might not be good to disturb him, but his position and duty left him no other choice.Usually the King let him do what he wished, but still, he had to ask.

"Damn... I shouldn't be doing this. A real general should not have to answer to some pompous man sitting amongst all his wealth and power!" he muttered...

Porlestis knocked on the door. "Do you have any orders for the defense, your Majesty?"

(OOC: I'm not quite sure what the battle situation is other than I'm outnumbered 200:1... anything else I should know? I'm not very well versed in Medieval castles, but I'll do my best.)

"First Gan? Oh, hello. Well, no, I have no specific orders. I will look over dispositions tonight, but I trust in you to make good decisions. I know you do not like reporting to me, but this is my kingdom and my keep."

[While we wait for volunteers, I need to hit the sack...]

The boy bows respectfully to Rekta, keeping up the obedient facade..... for the sake of his own life.


"None of that goddamned "my lord" rubbish! My father was a goatherd and my mother was as near a whore as you can get without being paid. I would say you're not any worse than me."

The boy looks wary for a moment, his eyes flitting about proteanly for a moment. Then he relaxes slightly.

"If you say so... hold on, Pa'truk calls."

He sprints towards Pa'Truk's voice, resuming once again his meek exterior. Skidding to a halt a short distance from his master, he bows.

"Yes, my lord?"

[ooc: Off too school.]

Tania watches as the boy addresses Pa'Truk...her eyes widen as she watches. She moves from behind the tree and heads silently toward the camp. She wasn't wearing armor, so she wouldn't be mistaken for a knight. The dark cloak around her disguised her figure, so she wouldn't be pegged for a woman, and NEVER the duke's daughter. She walked silently, trying her best to keep out of site.

"Boy, we're going to be guarding the machines. You come with me. If anything falls off, or you see any movement anywhere, tell me. You know what will happen if you don't."

***

Petr looked up at Famger.

"Missing you wife, I expect. Don't worry, if you don't get out of this, old Petr will tell her you died a brave death, and I'll make sure she has the money to live."

"What if I don't die bravely?" asked Famger, his face white and tired.

"Doesn't matter if you do or not. Your boy needs to know his daddy was a heroic soldier. That's all I'd do it for. That child is our future. Not me, not even you...I am old, and soon, soon enough, you will be old."

***

Dengir pondered. Pela had promised the mirror would allow him to keep an eye on Pa'Truk, but there were other chieftains. Head-strong chieftains who would kill him if they had half a chance, and take the horde over.

Of course, the horde would collapse if that happened. Dengir was not modest, nor a boaster; he was honest. And, to be honest, this army relied solely on his existence. Without him, they would go back to warring amongst themselves.

He doubted any of them would make their move until they had won the fortress. He estimated a week, maybe two before its fall. His generals estimated it would fall within a day, but he knew that Pela Khan was more skeptical, and the wizened old shaman was never wrong. There was something in that castle that was beyond his reckoning...the spirits would decide.

***

John looked at the maid.

"Which way did she go?" he asked, his voice clear.

"Just up to the walls, is all I saw, sir," replied the maid, on the verge of crying, "He won't punish me, will e'?"

"No. He will not."

John walked up to his master's living room.

"Master, the maid says the Lady Tania left through the gates and headed westwards."

"She's off to Gansalz. There was that young prince there who liked her. My daughter, a coward and a runaway? BAH!" roared the Duke.

"May I go, master?" asked John, his eyes several inches above the nobleman's head.

"Yes, yes. Go."

Tania unsheathed her sword. If she was to be found wandering around the enemy's camp..she couldn't even imagine what could happen. She hid as people passed. She had to find their leader, and take him out. If the leader was dead, it would cause some disorganization, and maybe give her father the advantage.

Pa'Truk passed by Tani, shouting out orders. The boy walked behind him, eyes sharp.

Tani glances at the boy. The boy catches a glimpse of her sparkeling emerald eyes and a strand of her hair. The pale skin on her face was lit dimly with the moonlight. She pulled the cloak tighter around herself...and continued on, hoping she wasn't noticed.

OOC:

I think we'll have to leave that arc for the night, it'll be about four hours till Anhierarch gets home.

Tamus looked out at the land around him, as the Thirty slowly rode towards Dorach Estolia. He sat in silence as his horse carried him towards the mountain range that now filled his entire view.

Even for his few summers, Tamus was not a fool. He knew that this could be his last view of these wonders of nature. He let his gaze fall upon every detail, casting them to memory.

He was honoured to be heading for this destiny. He looked at his companions, knowing that he could not be amongst better men. He was not afraid to die. What was life without death? But a life that was taken without good cause always saddened him. A wasted life.

He pulled himself out of his maudlin thoughts and returned them to the beauty that was all around him. Even in her temper, nature's wonders never ceased to amaze him.

(ooc: Ill be out for the next day or so )

[ooc: Sorry about the delay.]

A stirring in the night, a glimpse of emerald and silver.

What was that? His mind churns furiously.

Green eyes, skulking around.... it is no Maveran.

He makes a choice. Desperate, mad even.

His eyes widening, he whirls around, pointing in a direction altogether opposite from Tania's position. He speaks urgently, quietly.

"My lord. A stirring of the bush, and the glint of moon's light off metal, methinks."

"Good you told me, boy. Otherwise, I'd make sure you regretted it. You three! Rekta, go look at the bush!"

Rekta and two others loped off towards the shrub.

"I think they must have moved, chieftain! There's some scuffed footmarks here, must be one of those rangers. Very quick, they are."

The boy saw Rekta move his fete quickly across the ground, scuffing the earth. The warrior came over to him, and as soon as Pa'Truk was out of earshot, he whispered into the boy's ear.

"If whatever you were covering for does any great harm to us, I will kill you, my friend. You're a good lad, but I'm not risking my life for some fancy of yours."

He grinned, winked, and patted the boy's hair.

"That being said, let's hope Pa'Truk gets one in the gut."

The Edolians charged over the hill, some on the new ponies.

"Oh, damn," whispered Hubertos.

They couldn't stop the ponies in time. The momentum brought them smack into the middle of a group of yurts. And there were more of the tents, stretching on far into the distance. This wasn't a tribe of nomads...this was an ARMY.

***

::Tamus, your courage warms my heart. I sense that Leander does not think Nestor is the best choice for Voice...what do you think?:: pulsed Abbot Andar.

Tamus pulled his thoughts away from his surroundings as he 'heard' the voice of the Abbott fill his mind. He contemplated the answer before he gave it. It was not his place to judge.

"My Lord Abbott, the decision of the role of Voice was yours to make. I have faith in your wisdom."

He continued to gaze at the mountains as they grew in his sight. Every breath he took brought them closer to their destiny.

Denginer sat at the head of the table, the chicken's blood staining his white robe.

"The spirits say we should attack soon. We will crush them!"

The chieftains roared, banging goblets on the stained wood and tearing meat off in strips.

"Tomorrow morning, at dawn, the Maverans storm Doroch Estalia!"

***

The Thirty passed over the mountains and into the tunnels below as dusk drew in. The light of their torches barely illuminated the rocky road. However, the tunnels were well-made, and the floor solid and smooth.

Shortly before dawn, they arrived at the other end. The amazed guards called for help, but the monks didn't attack.

"We come to help the King," said Nestor.

Eventually, Ulrich himself came to meet the mysterious knights. He ordered them let through. On the way, however, they gave food to various refugees.

"Take quarters in the Keep," offered the King.

"No. We will sleep beneath the outer wall," replied Nestor firmly.

¦¦Father Abbot, Nestor has many faults. He refuses the courtesy of a king, for one. And he is constantly angry, and unsure of his abilities. He has no self-confidence!¦¦ Leander pulsed to Andar.

::Perhaps that is the point.::

Tamus listened silently as Leander discussed Nestor with the Abbot. It pained him that there was this doubt in Leander's mind. It was true that everyone had their faults, but that was what man everyone different.

He walked towards the place where they would be sleeping. He allowed his eyes to move up towards the sky. He always felt free in the open. Closed in places seemed to restrict his mind. He looked back at Leander and the Abbot. He knew that eventually he would see that the Nestor was a good choice.

Porlestis looked out upon the enemy encampment. Thousands upon thousands of soldiers sprawled out amongst the vast landscape... all ready to attack and wipe them out for good.

Not without a fight, though.

Porlestis moved about the castle, checking the defense, leaving no hole unfilled.

"You there, soldier, you call that alert?! Straigthen up!"

"I *hope* you're not so busy chatting when the enemy gets here!"

"Get back to work!"

...

"If they're going to be attacking soon, we'll have to take offensive action tonight. Round up some of our best soldiers. Tell them to get their weapons."

(OOC: Guess the soldiers could work as more parts for this RP. I'm still unaware of the situation, though. Do they have siege weaponry? Supply lines? Do I have siege weaponry?)

(OOC: Have been briefed by Milantos... so...)

First Gan Porlestis looked at the 25 men around him. They were handpicked soldiers; the best that he had under his command. Unlike most of the village boys he had, they were alert and ready for action. He turned to the first group of ten; chosen for stealth and combat ability.

"You men are to disrupt the enemy camp and destroy what supplies you can. You four," he said, pointing, "will sneak into the camp and cause a disturbance. Kill an officer. Burn a tent. Destroy their food. Then, you must sneak back as quickly and as quietly as possible. You others are to locate the siege weaponry and burn it into the ground. Then come home."

Porlestis now faced the second group (5 soldiers; chosen mainly for stealth).

"Your task is simple. Kill any sentries you find. Do it tonight, and, if they're still not wary, tomorrow. If you kill enough, Maverans will be afraid to go on watch!"

Porlestis turned and addressed the third and final group (10 soldiers; chosen mainly for wilderness survival and combat ability).

"Your task is to harry the enemy from the outside. While they have almost all ways out guarded, the mountains are still open to us. Catch and burn their supply wagons. Shoot men who are getting water. And, if the wind is right," the First Gan grinned, "start a fire."

"You are all to exit at midnight. Do your best and try as hard as you can because the lives of your wives and children depend on you! Now, get ready, and let God be with you."

The men bowed and left to get ready. Hopefully those strikes would hold the Maverans until... until... until what? Until God decided to open the sky and smite the Maverans with his might?

"What rubbish..." he muttered. (he probably wouldn't say "rubbish", but then again, he probably wouldn't be speaking modern english, either...)

...

As darkness fell, twenty-five ropes fell from the outer walls of the castle, and twenty-five men slipped out to do their duties...

Tania let out a soft sigh of releif as the boy pointed in a totally opposite direction than she was in. She caught another gimpse of him. Her sword was drawn...if she was discovered, she would be forced to fight. She got lower to the ground and watched. Suddenly, her purpose for being there was irrelivant...

<<OOC: Two problems: One, the barbarian tribe is not the Edolians. They are the Blattersplitti. The idea of Edolia will come about in about 200 years. It's like calling ancient Gauls the "French." Two, I doubt that such skilled raiders would run slap into the middle of an encamped army of 300,000 warriors. They would have done extensive scouting. However, for the sake of roleplaying, I'll go with it. Just don't let my warriors take too much damage, k? They're not riding in at nearly full force and even if they had been, they're outnumbered worse than the Milantosians.>>

"Damnation!" yelled Hubertus, as he reigned in his pony, stopping just before one of the yurts. With one smooth flick of the wrist, he unwound his close-range weapon of choice; a cruel barbed leather and steel whip. Luckily for the three dozen Blatterscplitt in the party, most of whom were on foot, the Maverians were just as surprised to be in the middle of a melee as they were. A suprised warrior rushed out of a tent, immediately dispatched by another, different flick of the chief's wrist. "Fall back!" Hubertus yelled. By that time, arrows were raining down on the would-be raiders. The Blattersplitt were only too happy to comply with the order as they ran, head-over-heels towards the cover of the forest.

"We lost four of our new ponies and seven men today," yelled Hubertus, spittle flying out of his mouth in a spectacular spray, "why the hell didn't I know about that..." he paused for breath, and then to come up with a suitable word. "That horde?!" "You see..." one of Hubertus' men stammered, "well... it's not that we didn't do any reconnosaince..." "No, you did the reconossaince," Hubertus said, suddenly calm. The warriors knew what was coming. "You were just diddling yourselves instead of looking ahead!" he screamed, his face scarlet with anger. He pulled back his fist, stopping it just before it hit the white-faced warrior. Hubertus took three deep breaths, turned slowly around and began walking away. Over his shoulder, his men could hear him murmuring... "We move up patrols around the forest."

<<OOC: I would imagine that Milantosians who are striking at supply-lines would probably run into contact with some Blattersplitt warriors.>>

"Good you told me, boy. Otherwise, I'd make sure you regretted it. You three! Rekta, go look at the bush!"

Rekta and two others loped off towards the shrub.

"I think they must have moved, chieftain! There's some scuffed footmarks here, must be one of those rangers. Very quick, they are."

The boy saw Rekta move his fete quickly across the ground, scuffing the earth. The warrior came over to him, and as soon as Pa'Truk was out of earshot, he whispered into the boy's ear.

"If whatever you were covering for does any great harm to us, I will kill you, my friend. You're a good lad, but I'm not risking my life for some fancy of yours."

He grinned, winked, and patted the boy's hair.

"That being said, let's hope Pa'Truk gets one in the gut."

The boy nods mutely, a little surprised by Rekta's intuition, or possibly perception. Either way, he resolved, he'd have to be more careful than he'd been before.

Seeing Pa'Truk still out of earshot, curiosity taking hold of his tongue.

"Don't like him much?"

[ooc: He needs a name... scandinavian?

Also, any objections if he's an apprentice scribe, scribe or something similar?]

OOC:

Sure, give him a name...Of course, the Maverans won't use it. ;) And he can be educated if ya want. Your character.

IC:

Rekta looked at the boy.

"Bit curious, eh? If I were any other warrior here, I'd probably tell Pa'Truk and watch you die slowly."

He looked hard at the boy.

"That being said, I do not hink it's a quesion of liking. The man is a good leader and fighter. His habits do leave a lot to be desired, of course."

He grinned. There were shouts behind him. Someone had seen the girl.

"Get her!" shouted Pa'Truk.

Rekta watched four warriors move carefully towards Tani.

"I'll guard the wagon with the boy," he called, and turned to the boy,"Follow me, don't move away from me..."

Then there was a scream from nearer the wagon. Ten shapes had appeared near the wagons, and a warrior had been stabbed. Suddenly, several other screams emanated from other outlying points.

"Damnit, we're under attack!" growled Rekta, directing slaves to start moving the rearward wagons back into camp.

Then a flash of fire blinded the boy. When his eyes adjusted, he saw one wagon was on fire.

And then the warcry started. Not the gruff howl of the Maverans, but something more melodic, musical.

"Alth turen fenarion!"

The cry repeated again and again. In the light of the flaming wagon, he could see green-clad shapes, wielding beautiful swords.

OOC:

Edolia, Gehenna, post your next turn anyway. It is the night before the attack starts.

(OOC: Well, I doubt that we'll run into the Blattersplitti (thank God for copy & paste!) for a bit, since the warriors have to take a round about route to cut off supplies. But when that happens, we can RP it... oh, and go guys with the beautiful swords who I assume are my warriors. :D )

Tani: Oh...this is great...*she unsheathed her sword. It was engraved with the emblem of her father. She clearly had aquired some skill in the sword...some great skill. She sliced into the approaching warriors with ease, dodging and parring quickly. It was almost as if every thing was in slow motion for her. During the brawl, the hood of her cloak was thrown back revealing that she was a woman. her hair reached to her waist and green eyes darted as the warrriors approached. She was astonished at how vicious her movements war...as almost as if she had her llife on the line. She looked at the boy for a moment...why had he tried to save her? It was no matter now...she had been found out. Leaving the warriors on the ground she quickly ran. It seemed that these men had captured some of the knights' horses. She slashed the tether with her sword and let one loose. The steed was pure white. She jumped onto it's back and urged it forward...and as fast as possible, tore her way through the camp. She swung her sword to any that raised theirs...she was so frightened, she had no idea what to do...she headed off...as quickly as possible...

[tag]

Tania got just to the edge of the camp before she turned around and circled around the back. She jumped off her horse and tumbled to the ground. Twigs scratched her arm and she brushed them off as she got up. If only she had not been discovered. She wrapped her cloak tightly around her, pulling the hood back over her head to hide her face. Her sword was once again sheathed, and the enemies warriors had been deceived into going in the other direction or following the horse, which was still running briskly. Now she had to find some of their clothing. her arm hurt badly from the numerous cuts, but she tried to ignore it, in an attempt which eventually proved futile.

Tani eventually found a Maveran tunic. It was filthy, and stunk of alcohol. However, it would allow her to pass for one of them, if she could keep her face hidden.

OOC:

Rave, check TGs.

Tani looked at the tunic. "Just my luck..." She said as she shoved it over her head and left her corset underneath. Somehow she needed to find a way to keep her face hidden besides looking at the ground... She headed toward the wagons steathily...as she had just casued an uproar amongst the camp.

Tamus sat and looked up at the stars, as he contemplated his destiny. The ride here had be long and arduous, his body weary from the time spent in the saddle, but he did not complain. He knew what was expected of him.

He listened in silence to the noises about him. They were the sounds of people preparing to fight for their lives and that of their fellow man. His heart was filled with joy and sorrow.

It was a worthy cause to stand up and fight for what you believed in, yet the suffering that had to be endured, not only by those involved in the battle but those whose hearts belonged to these gallant folk, was beyond measure.

He looked up into the stars and said a silent prayer.

OOC:

Sure, give him a name...Of course, the Maverans won't use it. ;) And he can be educated if ya want. Your character.

IC:

Rekta looked at the boy.

"Bit curious, eh? If I were any other warrior here, I'd probably tell Pa'Truk and watch you die slowly."

He looked hard at the boy.

"That being said, I do not hink it's a quesion of liking. The man is a good leader and fighter. His habits do leave a lot to be desired, of course."

He grinned. There were shouts behind him. Someone had seen the girl.

"Get her!" shouted Pa'Truk.

Rekta watched four warriors move carefully towards Tani.

"I'll guard the wagon with the boy," he called, and turned to the boy,"Follow me, don't move away from me..."

Then there was a scream from nearer the wagon. Ten shapes had appeared near the wagons, and a warrior had been stabbed. Suddenly, several other screams emanated from other outlying points.

"Damnit, we're under attack!" growled Rekta, directing slaves to start moving the rearward wagons back into camp.

Then a flash of fire blinded the boy. When his eyes adjusted, he saw one wagon was on fire.

And then the warcry started. Not the gruff howl of the Maverans, but something more melodic, musical.

"Alth turen fenarion!"

The cry repeated again and again. In the light of the flaming wagon, he could see green-clad shapes, wielding beautiful swords.

OOC:

Edolia, Gehenna, post your next turn anyway. It is the night before the attack starts.

Leif gulps slightly, nodding as Rekta mentions slow and torturous death.

I'm a damned scribe among men of war. Fish out of water and all that.

His face palls slightly as he hears Pa'Truk rallying the Maverans to Tania, hoping against hope that his deciet would not be in vain. Then, he hears the voice of Rekta.

Methinks he has a plan of sorts...

He decides to follow the grizzled warrior, in lieu of a better idea.

And then the chaos began, burning flame erupting from one of the wagons.

As the war-cries began, one thought passes through his mind:

I hope they don't mistake me for a Maveran.

Tania watched the fire burn in the wagon next to her. She peered around the corner to see the boy there. Why had he tried to save her? Spare her life? Would she ever get the chance to ask that question? Thoughts buzzed around in her mind....but remained merely thoughts.

Tani's sword darted forward, finding its home in the gut of the nearest Maveran. The bearded warrior looked down incredulously, and collapsed, sliding off the blade.

She was being forced back to the wagons, she knew it. Perhaps they thought if they cornered her they could capture her.

Rekta dropped behind a wagon, dragging down Leif with him.

"We stay here. If those Milantosians come near us, I fight them. But let's hope they don't. They're damn good warriors, and they've put a lot of effort into this. Poor Lazarus, though...he's lost a siege weapon. He'll be upset."

OOC:

Tani is approaching the wagon where Rekta and Leif are hiding. She doesn't know it, though.

Tania was being forced back...she couldn't go any farther before she was behind the wagons. Her sword was drawn and a cut ran across her right cheek under her eye. The blood from it stained her beauty as it formed a stream down the side of her face. She continued to fight on...she would not stop.

Two of the green-cloaked warriors approached Rekta and Leif's wagons, their swords drawn. One whispered to the other. They'd seen the two skulkers.

Rekta sighed.

"Stay here, boy. Take my knife. Be well."

At that, he leapt up, and darted away from the Milantosian warriors. Leif turned away, looking in the other direction, and saw the girl again...She was bleeding, and the three warriors in a semi-circle around her could see she was a female. Their eyes were animalistic, their intent obvious.

Tania weilded her sword well, but the three were circling her, and she couldn't defend her back. She pressed herself up against one of the wagons and speared a razor sharp dagger toward one while using her sword to defent the others.

Leif holds the knife carefully, surprised by Rekta's gesture. He looks at Tania's desperate battle, and again at the knife.

What can I do? I'm just a scribe. An apprentice scribe, at that. She's a warrior.

Again, his eyes fall on the knife.

I can do what I can.

Thus resolved, he darts from his position, flitting quickly from shadow to shadow, his stained raiment and grimy face offering a little concealment. Swiftly, he makes his way behind the three Maverans, nigh unnoticed in the chaos.

Tania drives her dagger deep into one of the men, removing it quickly as a sword struch her arm and cut her tunic, leaving a shallow, yet lengthy cut on her upper arm. She let out a small cry in pain as she tried to defend herself as best she could.

The two remaining Maverans circled cautiously around Tani. However, they were obviously better warriors than their unfortunate comrades. And when they had won, there'd be revenge for those two.

Leif hides in the shadows behind the two Maverans, holding the knife and biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

One that wouldn't get him killed.

One of the warriors, a burly, six foot six warrior with a vicious cutlass, turned his back to Leif, whilst the other began to test Tani's defences.

As the brute turns his back to Leif, he springs forward, uttering not a sound - his reliably logical mind telling him that a howling war-cry wasn't the best option, given the circumstances.

With speed and strength born of a tremendous surge of adrenaline, anger and fear, he plunges the knife at the warrior's neck.

The Maveran screamed as Leif ripped into his innards. His comrade turned at the sound. It was his last action. Tania's sword flashed forward, slicing his jugular. The two corpses collapsed to the ground.

Leif breathes deeply, almost gasping, slightly bent over, the knife still held with a death-grip in one hand. He gazes at his hands, his arms, and the cold, glazed gaze of the dead warrior, staring blindly into the night.

The...blood.

Recovering his composure, he turns to Tania, rapidly firing off greetings in several languages.

> Milantos read tgs...

Out of the shadows walks a stanger in a black cloak he his a big man around 6'5" 250lb can he walks to the dead bodies and looks them over then looks at the two surviors.

[[[in the distance]]]

A massive army of men is setting camp.

Sir are you sure we're still in our land?

Damn you how many times do I've got to say...WE'RE LOST. Damn King Thours's son. He's too arrogant and young to lead.

They look at a medium sized man whos sitting by himself at a fire. The man sitting there is looking at his sword. He was given it by an old friend who was crafty and rich. The sword was made of a newly discoverd metal and lined with diamonds for quick kills (although to people didnt know the stone was diamond). He had another sword won from the death of an enemy carved from a crystalike stone. He never used it though because the way it looked when blood dripped down it. The one soldier walks up to the man.

Sire when are you going to get us home?

The man looks up and grins

Don't you get it....we're not going home...

Sire but.

The man gets up and walks away sword in hand and walks off into night. Other people join the man standing there.

What happened?

We're NOT going home.

WHAT?

Thats what Dante just said.

WHY?

I bet this is one of his crazy plans.

[[[meanwhile]]]

Dante is walking through the woods. It is cold and he's glad he brought his siberian lined cloak with him. His cloak lacks a hood for many reasons. His outfit was definately of some wealth...made from thick materials and meant to last. He was a educated man and refined although he was a skilled fighter (as well).

He walked on into the night. The sound of his army roared. They were a good bunch of men...in good humor...and battle happy. His army were all skilled men. The front gaurd wore armor while those who were better than the knights didn't wear any armor in fear of being slowed down in battle. They laughed as others brandished their weapons. Younger soldiers sharpened arrow heads. They had a nice supply of a foreign horses not seen to this land and carrier hawks. They also had a medical team and other things.

Dante reared around at the sound of a stick breaking. He raised his sword and jabbed it into the night.

Arrgghh.

He looked at the man he just stabbed and pulled out the sword which slid easily into and out of the body. He had stabbed the man in upper chest.

The man grasped his chest.

Dante.

Hearing the man he realized that he just stabbed a kiss up to his father. He grabbed the man and drug him back to camp and the doctors tended to his wound. Dante looked at the shocked faces and headed back into the woods wondering much deeper this time while the people whispered of what happened.

Did he just.

Yeah!

WHY?

///the general walked up to them///

He did tell us never to follow him when he went off on his own. Thats what happens when you dont listen...

Tania was suprised when the boy came to her aide...lucky for her, or else she might have been dead...or worse, right now.
Tania: Thank you...Why are you helping me? *she said completely out of breath. She coughed slightly, and tried to regain her normal breathing. She looked the boy down from head to toe. He was handsome, but fitter time for that. She sheathed her sword and reclaimed her dagger before turning back to the boy.

His eyes take on a dark light for a moment, the flames of the battle casting flickering shadows on his lean face.

"Because I do not like being a thrall and slave to these people, milady. Now we must disappear with haste - we are close at hand to the Maveran encampment, doubtless many more will soon come."

Wiping the warrior's blood from Rekta's knife, he looks about, seeking a swift escape.

[[[meanwhile]]]

Dante walks on listening to the silence and rustle of his feet off the ground. He thinks to himself.

So I wonder when we'll run into these people? Damn peasant didn't tell me where...

"Aye...more will come when they realize who I am..."she said trailing off slightly before glancing around.Where had that horse gone off to?
No matter now they needed to get out of there. "Let's get out of here...now." she said as she heard footsteps approaching from the distance.

Leif nods, tucking the knife into his belt.

"I would ask now who you might be, but there is time enough for that later, milady."

Seeing a path that pleases his instincts, he takes off at a quiet trot. He turns to Tania.

"Whence came you, milady? The camp of an army to oppose the Maverans?"

Tania looked at him, and started slowely after him before speaking. "I am Tania, daughter of the duke...." she said before sheathing her dagger, and following the man. Where she came from could be assumed...

[[[in Dante's camps]]]

Sir when will Dante come back?

Don't know soldier. He didn't tell me anything. I guess he's looking for any sign of another camp out there.

We ARE we?

Don't know.

THen why're we here?

Cause Dante wants us here. Don't question his decisions.

The man walks off angry. Muttering to himself.

Damn young ones. Always questioning the young prince. Dante knows what he's doing. IF only they REALLY knew why he was here.

He walks of into a small hut made of sticks and skins. He lies down on a bear skin on the ground and thinks about things.

OOC:

Sorry for the delay, I've been busy. I'll post soon.

[[[in Dante's camp]]]

A man comes running into camp.

We've found another camp in the distance. Its past the forest.

Are you sure?

Yes.

A man gets the older man in the hut.

Gorr we've got another camp out there.

Send some of the front guard to watch.

YEs Gorr.

20 men get on their fine horses and trot off into the direction of the camp. They have weapons at sides and long spears.

Anders crouched, watching the man pace through the forest. He would have to take his patrol back to Doroch Estalia soon; he was already well behind enemy lines. But first, this stranger.

He motioned for Hengist and John to go behind the man, to cut off his escape. He then stood up, and coughed politely.

"I'm afraid I'll have to take you back to my commander. You're no Maveran, and I'm wondering why you're here. So, coming with me, or not?"

He drew his sword, smiling politely all the while.

First Gan Porlestis paced along the castle walls, unable to sleep. Would the raids work? Would his men return alive? Should he have done more? Less... but there was no time to worry about what-ifs. Once the men returned, he would make sure that the ropes were ready for them to escape back to safety.

I should sleep he thought. No, said another voice in his head. This is important, you can't sleep now!

Still, not all the soldiers shared his sentiments on the matter. "You there!" he began...

(OOC: Hopefully that was clear... :) )

Dante turns around and unsheated his sword at the sight of this man. He held it at his side ready to fight.

Who are you? Maveran...me...no. But...

He leans against a tree and slides his sword back in. He grinned.

So I hear your having some hard times. ///grins///

He walks off toward the men that he doesn't realize are there.

Tania looked at him, and started slowely after him before speaking. "I am Tania, daughter of the duke...." she said before sheathing her dagger, and following the man. Where she came from could be assumed...

He runs easily, darting through the inky forest like a stealthy hunter - his time with the Maverans having taught him something of fieldcraft.

"The Duke. Duke of.... Estalia? I am Leif Bjornsson, scribe of the northlands, slave to the Maverans these past 3 years."

[ooc: Whoops. Edited.]

ooc: Still room for me?

"Yes... Milantos. Why are you their slave? A prisoner of war?" She continued to follow him as fast as she could.

"Aye, something like that. They attacked the scriptorium I was doing my apprenticeship in, enslaved everybody they didn't kill. Servitude to the Maverans is hard, though - I'm the only one from the scriptorium left after three years."

ooc: Still room for me?

Sure

OOC:

FYI, it's the Duke of Estalia, but no worries.

IC:

Hengist and John leapt towards Dante, trying to take a hold of him.

"Aye, something like that. They attacked the scriptorium I was doing my apprenticeship in, enslaved everybody they didn't kill. Servitude to the Maverans is hard, though - I'm the only one from the scriptorium left after three years."

"Then come back with me.." Tania said with a slight smile on her face. The blood had stopped and the would was beginning to heal on both her cheek and her arm. "You don't have to serve them anymore...help me fight them." It was quiet suprising what bravery this girl possessed. A woman taking on an entire camp...what a notion!

As he runs swiftly, he replies.

"So I shall aid you - I have no great love of them. Not after they killed the people I held dearest. Fortuna favors the brave, they say. So do I.", he says, smiling grimly.

His eyes scan the darkness before them.

"Are we yet close at hand to your encampment?"

"My encampment? I did not come from one... I...I ran away from home, at the castle...no one knows I'm here but you , and now these Maverans...I do not know where my allies camps are...I came her alone to kill the one in charge undercover...however, my cover was blown back there...*she smiles softly and continued on, wondering who they would stumble upon.

He listens to the sounds of the night, the calls of nightwalking beasts, the rustle of leaves.

"I see. I do not hear any pursuit... where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere.." she says as she leans against a tree. She removes the tunic, which was now stained with blood, and pulls her black cloak around her over her cream colored corest. Her long, strawberry blonde hair cascades down her shoulders falling at her waist in a slight curl. The two deep black holes were surrounded by a circle of rich green which made up her eyes. Her pink lips curved softly as she smiled. "I don't really have anywhere to go..."

[ooc: Strawberry blonde?]

Leif smiles, teal eyes glinting in the starlight. He brushes a lock of unkempt, ash blonde hair away from his face.

"Anywhere is a good place." He surveys the nightscape, looking for a good place to stay for the moment.

"There's a hill over there, and some sort of cave. It may be a good place to weather the night."

"Let's to it then..." she said, pushing a strand of hair away from her face and making her way toward the cave. Something about this boy interested her, she just couldn't put her finger on it. She quietly ran her fingers down the hilt of her sword. The metal was cold. It seemed that the sword was alive in batte, but dead at rest.

ooc: strawberry blonde :D : http://images.google.com/images?q=tbn:jiT3XsuDnhEC:www.chemosavvy.com/store/images

"Yes, let's."

As they walk, he alertly scans the surroundings out of habit. Idly, he tosses and catches the knife silently.

Fate has led me to a new path. What awaits me? I cannot tell.

She's beautiful.

Why did I just think that? Focus, Leif, focus. You're not out of the fire yet.

Tania looks back it him for a moment.

God he's handsome...I always fell for blondes. :shock:

She looks to the cave that they were nearing.

Why the hell am I thinking that?! Focus...you want to get back alive and well....you're not safe yet.

She steps up onto the ledge of the cave and leans herself against the stone wall, waiting for Leif.

Promptly he steps up, inhaling deeply of the night air, crisp and fresh. He looks thoughtful for a moment.

"Well, it's dry. That is good, at any rate. But it will be cold - we cannot risk a fire. Maverans may not be the best trackers but only the blind could not track a fire in the night. If you feel cold, I could lend you my doublet.", he says, looking genuinely concerned and fingering the slightly threadbare garment.

"No it's alright.." she smiled pulling her cloak around her, despite the fact that she only wore a corset for a top under it. Despite the cold, she was glad to get that horrid tunic off.

"But thank you for the offer." she jumped in quickly. She thought for a moment.

"You don't think that they're still following us..do you?" she said with a worried expression on her face.

"You're most welcome."

He turns his head, looking at the landscape, pale and ethereal in the moonlight.

"No...... we are far from them now. And they have more pressing business at hand. Still, they may try to find us. One of us should keep watch while the other slumbers - wandering abroad by night can be dangerous."

Abruptly, something seems to change in him. He looks down at his hands.

"I..... killed."

Suprisingly, Tania wasn't shaken that she had killed her first person today. It was the adventure she had been missing in her life. Back at the castle, the days wore on endlessly...life wasn't questioned, it was unquestionable. But her, life could be stolen or given in an instant, and everything was questionable...and Tania liked answers.
"You saved a life in doing so, as well as one's chastity." she said with a soft smile. "Rest...I will keep watch for a while"

Though reassured by her words, he lays down on the ground, still shaken.

I have brought life to an end.

A thuggish braggart of a murderer he may have been, he was still human.

Will I become like that?

"I... thank you. Yes." He sighs, slipping quickly into an uneasy sleep.

Tania placed a hand on his shoulder as he slept to comfort him. She watched over him for a while, then looked out over the landscape. Fires could be seen in the distance. It was best that they hadn't started a fire, for they would have surely been seen.

His breathing deepens as she places her hand on his shoulder, calming him profoundly at some fundamental level. In the darkness of his unconscious mind, the dreams soften, becoming more benign.

He sleeps, for once, at peace. To Tania's hand his shoulder would feel warm, with hard, wiry muscle underneath.

Tania sighed as dawn would approach in less than two hours. He had been sleeping for a while, yet exhaustion was getting a hold of her. She lay on her back next to Leif. She fought to keep her eyes open, but coulding. Her hand feel from Leif's shoulder, and now rested at her side. As the sky faded from a deep black to a light navy, Tania drifted to sleep.

"Nnngh."

He shifts his body, his mind residing in the tenuous space between waking and sleeping, reluctant to leave the comforting peace of the dreaming lands.

And then he wakes, opening his eyes to the world outside. To his ears comes the song of birds, and the gentle breathing of Tania.

Dear gods it's morning! Why didn't I awaken to keep watch? He curses himself silently, and then his eyes fall upon the sleeping form of Tania.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he studies her face, serene in her slumber. For almost a quarter of an hour he remains, entranced.

Abruptly, he gets up, stretching as silently as he can. That done, he kneels beside her, cautiously touching her shoulder, whispering.

"Lady Tania. Time to get up."

"hmmm?" *she said groggily as she awoke* "I must have dosed off" *she said softly while stretching then getting to her feet. She pushed some of the dust off her cloak and looked to Leif. She wishes she had more time to sleep, but was thankful for the two hours she got to. She looked out over the landscape. "Where to from here?"

She looks tired....

"Well, first we need breakfast. If we find dry enough wood we can make a relatively smokeless fire, and use it to cook.... rabbit, perhaps. After that, I feel we should head for civilization."

[ooc: I'm out for the night. Need some sleep.]

(it's noon here lol)

"Sounds good to me..." she paused for a moment. "Tell me, who is the leader of the Maverans?" *she said with a sparkle in her eye

(OOC: Are you guys heading back to the castle? Because we should RP your re-entry.)

Gazing back into her eyes, he replies softly. "His name is Dengir Khan. A dangerous man, I've not met him myself. But I've heard he's sly and cunning, intelligent even."

IC:

The soldier stood at attention in front of Porlestis.

"Their sentries were dealt with, sir. One wagon was set aflame by the anti-siege group. We won't be able to repeat the same trick tomorrow; they've moved up the camp so as to assist their attack."

In response to the unanswered question, the soldier shrugged.

"I would guess they'll start sometime this afternoon. They're preparing ladders for an escalade."

Gazing back into her eyes, he replies softly. "His name is Dengir Khan. A dangerous man, I've not met him myself. But I've heard he's sly and cunning, intelligent even."

"Do you know where he is?" she asked softly. Even if she had to go back there, it might be the only chance of survival Milantos would have...they had to take out the leader to cause confusion, then the rest will fall easily.

Leif shrugs. "The biggest yurt in the encampment, most of the time. You have something in mind?"

Tania: We must get back to the walls...I must get back inside the castle...and we must hurry...I don't know how long they can hold out...and we might be of some help..*she pauses* that is of course if you want to come.

Tania: I always do..*she smiles* Take me there...*she says softly...she had an idea* As you're prisoner..

OOC: Sorry for the interuption to this RP...but check your telegrams

OOC:

Rave, check TGs.

OOC:

Rave, check TGs.

OOC: by the way...is it too late for me to join?

OOC:

Rave, check TGs.

OOC: by the way...is it too late for me to join?

OOC:
Of course not.

Which character would you like?

His startlingly teal eyes widen, frankly shocked by the audacity and daring of Tania's plan.

"It will be most risky, but yes, I am willing." He touches her shoulder lightly, unconsciously. "Are you sure? If it goes wrong we may both die."

Die slowly. Painfully.

(editted post...)

Tania: Better to take the risk and die, then to live forever in hiding, not knowing what would have happend...*she said softly*

ooc: i would like the holy man/abbot/bishop/shaman/pope/whatever.

ooc: i would like the holy man/abbot/bishop/shaman/pope/whatever.

OOC:

There's Abbot Andar, Nestor and Leander in the Thirty, who have just arrived at the fortress. Also, there's an old chaplain, but I doubt he'll do much.

Want Andar?

There's also Pela Khan, the shaman.

[ooc: That was a major edit. Now my dramatic last post seems slightly out of place, hah. :D ]

He nods imperceptibly.

"Yes, you speak truly. I will go with you, to death or glory.", he says, softly.

ooc: oooooh! khan, the shaman!!!

ooc: oooooh! khan, the shaman!!!

OOC:
Well, assuming Steel Butterfly doesn't want it, it's yours (he asked first, is all). Welcome to the crew. Feel free to make an intro post. You've just found out the silver mist are thirty telepathic warriors...you could go and tell Dengir.

"i simply MUST Tell Dengir! this is important news! perhaps i will be rewarded for bringing it to his attention..." he mutters to himself as he rushes along the dirt path, stumbling slightly over the hem of his robes in his haste...


ooc:robes? could you get me some background?

OOC:

Pela is not a Nice Person. He's short, wizened, and so steeped in callous deeds he has very little positive emotion left. He sees Dengir as the saviour of the Maverans, the man who will bring them a great empire.

He might be wearing robes, or he could just wear a loincloth and show his bony form off...he's basically a bag of bones. However, he is surprisingly strong.

he finaly reaches Dengir's tent , still muttering to himself. he realises what he's doing and he stops. he takes a moment to compose himself, then steps in. "Oh, great Dengir! i have found a piece of information that could be vital to our cause..."


ooc: where did everyone go???!?!

Tania smiles, "Well com'mon then, we don't have much time." She begins walking down from the cave down the hill, and back toward the castle. Her pace quickened as they made their way back through the forest.

He grins, following her with a spring in his step.

Well, this is interesting. May you live in interesting times, as they say.

For whatever reason, she found new hope in Leif being there with her. They edged the rim of the castle wall, and the battle was about to commence. She sheathed her sword quietly, staying close to Leif. They didn't want to be seen until it was too late.

Leif follows closely, taking heed of Tania's stealthiness and moving as quietly as possible. Suddenly, he comes to the realization that he doesn't really care if he dies doing this.

And he doesn't really know why.

OOC:

FYI, it's the Duke of Estalia, but no worries.

IC:

Hengist and John leapt towards Dante, trying to take a hold of him.

///Dante swings around just in time to dodge John but Hengist got behind him. Hengist pulled out his sword and held it at Dante's throat.///

IC:

The soldier stood at attention in front of Porlestis.

"Their sentries were dealt with, sir. One wagon was set aflame by the anti-siege group. We won't be able to repeat the same trick tomorrow; they've moved up the camp so as to assist their attack."

In response to the unanswered question, the soldier shrugged.

"I would guess they'll start sometime this afternoon. They're preparing ladders for an escalade."

"How many did we lose? And did we get any siege weaponry?" (or does wagon = siege engine?)

...

"I want all the archers at their stations! I want anti-siege equipment ready NOW! The Maverans look to be attacking soon, I want to be ready!"

...

The First Gan knocked on the door. Always had to make sure that the king wanted whatever done...

"Your majesty, the Maverans look as if they'll be attacking soon. Preparations can quickly be made to evacuate you through the mountain pass, but it will have to be soon."

(OOC: Going to do something similar to the duke after this convo. I also might take the opportunity to try to evacuate Tania (if the Duke wants to), and find her missing...)

Der Bump.

They arrive at the castle walls, and see the battle going on around the corner. She unsheathes her sword and looks at Leif for a moment. unexpectadly, she kisses him lightly. "Are you ready?" she says softly, knowing might be their last day of existance.

Did she just.....

No, really?

She did.

Er.

Well, that's a first.

Leif blushes a little, his cheeks fiery against his pale skin. He looks back to her, a warm, intense gaze.

"Ready... ready to stare Death in the eye, to dance on the knife edge between living and dying - if only because you are with me.", he says, giving her a light kiss in return.

Tania was taken back by this kiss but smiled...blushing probably more than he was. She unsheathed her sword and looked to him one last time before going to the walls and joining in the fray, taking out many a foe... her identity revealed...more would soon come...

To death or glory.

Today I may die. But I have lived, and I have loved. I will die with peace.

He slips into the fray, a slight figure, almost inconsequential to the burly warriors battling all around. He lets loose no war-cry, flourishes no blade. Instead he moves as a wraith, his knife moving through the battle like the passage of wind, leaving a wake of gashed limbs and torn flesh.

But sooner or later, a warrior will notice him.

And lay him low.

(OOC: I'm not quite sure it would be a melee type of battle as we're outnumbered 200:1. So...)

[ooc: Good point. I may be wrong, but what I see is a castle with a big freakin' army coming at it. Obviously all the entrances will be tightly shut....

Yes. I'll think about it.]

(OOC: Yeah, something like that. Milantos (BTW, WHERE is he?) will have to give exact details).

Milantos is back! A bump in celebration!

Bump!

OOC: OH NO...SAVE ME...SINKING BY WAYSIDE! Sorry bored. Listen if this thread is dead then I'm withdrawing if not then I'll stay. I might have to pull this nation into something really big for my character Dante and I won't have time to role play multiple threads. I'll only stay if you promise that it'll go somewhere! Not trying to be mean but Mahanoy has a nice huge army that might have to throw down a rebellion. Damn rebels. So um...anyone with an answer telegram me ASAP. Oh and if you're interested in becoming national leader of Dante's empire then message Dantes Devastation or Whitecastle. Dante's character might die any day now and he needs a someone with role play experience to take over his empire. Oh and take into consideration that its MASSIVE!

OOC:
Sorry for the delay, guys...I was in France. Back now.

I'll post soon

Cool. How's the Melkor story going, btw?

OOC:

Damnit, it invalid-sessioned me and it lost my post.

IC:

Leif and Tani climbed over the wall at its strongest point - where there would be least sentires - where it faced the woods.

Leif saw a buzz of movement out of the corner of his eyes. Maverans flooding across the plain.

***

Three thousand Yellow Goat tribesmen, Dengir's cannon fodder, loped silently over the Milantosian grass, grappling hooks in hand.

Dengir smiled. It was only five am, so any troops on the walls would be tired, and few and far between.

After the Goats went in, Nightstalkers would come in behind them, ready to exploit any weak points. If the resistance continued, his Bears would act as the killer blow.

(OOC: Should I RP what happens to "my" forces or no?)

(OOC: Should I RP what happens to "my" forces or no?)

OOC:

I need to see if Leif or Tani tells you an attack is coming.

[ooc: Hmm, where's Rave?]

Leif sees the Maverans advancing across the plain, legions upon serried legions of men hell-bent on war.

We must warn them....

Mustering all the strength of his lungs, he cries out.

"The enemy is come! The enemy is come!"

That done he races along the wall, looking for a sentry post with a horn meant to warn the encampment.

The groggy sentry was partially awakened by Leif's cries.

"What do you mean 'the enemy is come', boy?"

He glares at the sentry.

"Maybe you should take a look over the wall, sir. Unless you wish this place to be overrun by the Maverans."

(ooc: sry guys...got lost for a while)

Tania followed Leif. "We must hurry..." she said, the smile fading from her face, replaced by a look of determination. "before it's too late."

The word Maverans wrought an immediate change on the soldier. He was tired, but not tired enough to have forgotten why he was on duty.

"Maverans? Where?" said the soldier, fear crawling into his voice, being unable to see the enemy advance in the dark...

The word Maverans wrought an immediate change on the soldier. He was tired, but not tired enough to have forgotten why he was on duty.

"Maverans? Where?" said the soldier, fear crawling into his voice, being unable to see the enemy advance in the dark...

He points out at the unquiet dark, a quiet figure balanced upon the wall. His words take on a leaden intonation.

"Out there. Legions of them, can you not see?"

(OOC: I assume that they aren't easily visible, so...)

"Boy, your eyes are playing tricks on your head! That grass out there is as still as it is on windless hot afternoon. Besides, what madmen would attack at this hour?"

doobal post

Leif sighs, his patience running thin.

"Light your torch, watchman - though it may be answered by an arrow loosed. If even then you cannot see them throw the torch as far as you can. If they are not there, you will lose nothing save a torch. If they are... you may have the blood of everyone here on your hands."

The sentry hesitates. He knows that the Maverans were supposed to attack soon... but he would look rather foolish if he did this and nothing happened. But he would also look foolish if he ignored a warning and was killed-- along with everyone else.

"All right boy, but you'd better be right..."

The sentry lights his torch and throws it out into the plains. The light spiraled down into the night, revealing the attacking figures.

The sentry stood only a moment in shock before blowing his horn and sounding the alarm...

(OOC: You should probably remind the sleepy bloke to give you a ladder, BTW. & make the ungracious guy say thank you. :wink:

Also, does the torch start a fire?)

[ooc: Up to Milantos, perhaps. If it's nice, dry summer grass, all tall and thick it'd probably burn rather nicely.]

Leif ducks as the torch flies, reasoning that it was probably a good idea to err on the side of caution with regard to unexpected arrows. He looks up at the shocked watchman, blowing his horn with a deep, resonant melody of sorts.

"As you can see, I was right. How can we aid the defense?"

(OOC: Yah, I guess so. We await your word, Milantos. :wink: )

As the cries of men and the clash of steel ring out in the night, the sentry at first seems not to hear Leif. But then he says "YOU and that girl help the defe--" but stops short, remembering how he was wrong last time.

"Here, get on this ladder, quick, there'll be a sword or a bow somewhere about."

Leif grins darkly. "Much better."

He turns to Tania again.

"Well, here we go...."

Porlestis was shaken out of his bed by the noise of the horn. He knew he shouldn't have gone to sleep but he was so tired. He had just wanted to lie down for a few minutes... just to get a bit of rest...

Porlestis pushed his exhaustion to the back of his mind. If he ever got out of this, he would be tired later but there was no help for that.

He quickly rounded up all of the officers that he could find.

"I want the archers shooting down like the Devil himself is there! And get the others to setting ladders or ropes on fire, or pushing them back where they came from! Get to it! NOW!"

Without waiting to see if they'd heard him, Porlestis ran to the wall, and, summoning all of his charisma and strength gave the battle cry.

"For your children! For your wives! For the innocent! For God!"

This RP gonna continue or should I stop checking it?

[Well, I'm still interested but many of the key players seem to be missing.]

Leif grins darkly. "Much better."

He turns to Tania again.

"Well, here we go...."

She smiles softly, and kisses him on the cheek. "Then we go..."

Hmmmm... should we TG Milantos perhaps?

[ooc: 's your call... I've got a hell of a lot to do in school and I wouldn't mind cutting down the number of RPs I'm involved in for a week or two. A semi hiatus as it were.]

Milantos has been inactive for 18 days now... not much point in TGing until he gets back. :| When that is I dunno...