NationStates Jolt Archive

(OOC: Reposted backstory, with some improvements. Sign up thread is: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=586903.)

The lands of men and more magical things had always been at war, for many have lived who have sought power at the cost of their fellows. In the Year 531, a powerful dark wizard arose who sought control over the entire world. At first he succeeded, building his power in secret while playing one kingdom against another, manipulate the old racial and religious hatreds of the land. By the time an alliance, known as the Great Crusade, was mustered against him, he was nearly unstoppable.

The war raged for eight long years. Finally, the Crusader's forces broke through the wizard's lines. For weeks they fought a bitter battle on the snow-swept winter plains of the north. Men, elves, and other creatures fought side by side against a common adversary. Arrows tore through advancing ranks of soldiers, while mages cast fire balls that wiped out companies, or raised gusts of wind that blew their enemy's missiles aside. Back and forth they fought across the plains, advancing and retreating. A hundred thousand men slain, their bodies piled five deep in places. At last, by launching a diversionary attack on the wizard's main port of Tirel, they managed to fight their way close enough to his fortress in the foot hills of the great range that their mages could attack the inner wards, and a handful of warriors were able to teleport inside it.

The results of their quest are unknown, for the fortress collapsed around them in a blaze of magic and none were seen again. But the dark wizard vanished with them, and his captains, lacking their overlord's direction, turned on each other and divided his empire in a bid for power.

Unfortunately, the cost of victory was high. The Crusade had drained the coffers of many realms, and the war had burned farms, sunk ships, and raided merchant's caravans across the land. Famine swept the kingdoms, and plague, until the cost of the battles was far outstripped by the cost of these woes. In some lands the people rebelled, casting out their kings. Other realms turned on their former allies, reawakening old emnities now that a common foe was lacking to unite them. Some realms, conquored by the dark mage's forces, were now left utterly without leadership, broken into ruined city states and brigand-filled wild lands, to be traded between the pillagers of various war lords.

In this time, many wander the land, each seeking different things. Some seek a lost loved one. Others seek revenge for some injustice. Some seek their fortune. And others seek no more than a place of refuge. And some, undaunted by the devastation around them, take up the sword, the staff, or the pen and pursue a higher calling.

(OOC: this is the map:http://forums.jolt.co.uk/attachment.php?attachmentid=61002&d=1237226132)

All was quiet on the Western Plains, not a soul to be heard, not a rampaging monster to be fought, and now out of control mages to silence. Sir Aldus Laurent surveyed the skies, hoping that something would just fall out of the sky. Nothing came. Aldus sighed. It had been a few years since the end of the Great War, the fighting should have ended, yet it didn't. After the Great War ended, many kingdoms began to enter states of poverty and famine. His home kingdom of Oblivion was considered one of the lucky ones to begin, it had enough fertile farm lands that food was no problem, but the problem was that Oblivion had few soldiers left after the war, as she had dedicated a massive number of her fighting forces to the cause of killing the Dark Mage. Soon enough, word spread of Oblivion's weakness, and bandits and brigands came by the thousands, after three days the entire kingdom was overrun, and her king, King Dominic Slucius, was beheaded by the leader of the Brigands. Aldus remembered the day King Slucius had adopted him, the king could not have a child of his own, so he resorted to adopting a young knight of character. That knight turned out to be Aldus.

He sighed to himself and said, "What a far cry this turned out to be, I'm supposed to be the heir to a powerful kingdom, and yet, I lead a band of mercenaries. If father could see what his son and his last knights had become, he would weep."

Aldus sheathed his blade and walked back to camp, praying for someone to come along and hire his little band, so that he may have a reprieve from his haunting thoughts.

He was a good hours travel by foot from the town that contained his last mark, a glorious find in a country side filled with rotten crops and famine starved commoners. The town, while no place better off than any other dying village in it’s local travel, had the remarkable attribute that it’s Nobles had yet to been killed by the peasants and their treasure spread to the four winds, which made it a very profitable venture for men of Jamben’s ilk. Still, it was an empty victory over a hierarchy that was on it’s last legs. There were no guards to spare these days to keep the trinkets of the noble house safe, and thus it was a simple matter of getting into the Lord’s manor unseen and finding his safe, then getting out.

This of course, left him with a bitter bang in his gut. Thievery was a lucrative business these days, ei. But unless someone was suicidal and wishing to begotten the wrath of one of the bandit gangs in the wastelands, there was no challenge to it, no use of the hard practiced skills he had gathered over his short life. He dreamed of the days before the great crusade when nobles flourished their wealth before their peasants and the act of thievery was the trade of men of bravery who dared challenge the stagnant atrocity that was the ruling class. But, however an empty or cowardly victory as it was, he had a belly full of bread and water, and a full pack of rations for his travels to the next city over.

That was, until his blue eyes caught sight of a band of hungry farmers, apparently deciding to finally abandoned their plague-rotten farm. This was a common sight, even though he never got over their bone chilling eyes sunken into their skulls. Orbs that barely had a scrap of life left in them as they watched him. They saw him merely as a young boy, well dressed for the age and equipped with a fine weapon that most soldiers could not find nor afford. He did his best to turn his bright, sparkling blue eyes from the sight but as he did so he caught sight of the youngest of the family, a small child who couldn’t have been more than five years old…

He stopped suddenly in his trot and with a small sigh turned his head up to the skies, looking at the clouds that were beginning to role in over from the mountains, and then spoke a single word, “…Damn…”

Five minutes later he was once again on his way to the next town over, his pack significantly lighter of food and drink and a pair of warm clothing. One part of him kept kicking himself for being so stupid, yet another, the part that really mattered, caused a wide, gleaming, boyish grin on his face as he waked through the rain. A joyous smile that was hard to find these days, and yet he could not help but wear it prideful for that day, his heart lifted by the surprised smile they gave him as he handed them his rations. “Besides…” he said, reasoning with himself. “I’m a fox hengeyokai with more skills than all of them put together! I can survive with nothing but fang and claw until the end of days!”

And with that proud announcement to the skies and empty wilderness, the being that currently appeared as nothing more than a moderately well off fourteen year old adventurer ran to meet his fate in the next town over.

The village was a small one, the kind that doesn't go noted on any map. But to the man approaching it, it symbolized much more. The village symbolized one more patch of land to add to his kingdom. Th man in question was known by many names. Those in his service called him Lord. Those under his rule called him master. And he called himself Nirek. He had once been a leader of armies against the Dark Lord. But as the war dragged on, he slowly became a monster. A demon. On his face was a mask, the face of one of the most horrible demons ever known to legend. He ruled half the Western Plains. And today, he would rule a little bit more. As his unicorn, gleaming in pitch-black armor, came up alongside another, he turned. "Is everything in place?" "Yes, Lord." The man who replied was clad in blood-red armor, and displayed two dueling swords on his belt. "We are ready to attack on your word." Nirek turned back towards the village. His soldiers had advanced under the cover of trees and hills. The first sign of their advance would be a rain of fire. The demon mask spoke but one word, "Begin."

In the village, people went about their business without much of a worry. Being as small as it was, it was able to avoid the chaos of the post-Crusade. Apart from the occasional traveler, they were relatively isolated. Until today. Out of the blue, flocks of birds shot out of the nearby woods. Then came a whistling sound. The villagers looked up, to see a line of fire. The firerocks, launched from trebuchets in the woods, burst into flame on impact, destroying houses. The panic really began when a host of unicorn-riders rode out of the woods towards the village. Behind them was a force of troops the villagers had never believed possible. And at the head of each column was a standard:
http://fc89.deviantart.com/fs25/f/2008/109/2/2/Avatar_Fire_Nation_Wallpaper_by_SpazChicken.jpg
At the sight of this symbol the villagers began to run out of the village, running for any sort of sanctuary. They had heard tales about this symbol, and what it entailed. It meant their doom.

A Short Time Later
Cyrus watched as his soldiers took the village. They had done this many times, and were going about it with a ruthless efficiency that showed it. They first took the village leaders, the ones that hadn't been killed in the attack. They were forced to their knees in front of the peasants and beheaded. The able-bodied men were either taken as slaves or conscripted into Cyrus's army. The women were loaded up for sale to the many harems that had sprung up in the cities. The only ones left were the old, the children, and a few able-bodied men and women. Anything of value was taken, as had almost all of the food. The slaves were packed into dewback-pulled cages, and sent back to the slave camps in the interior of Nirek's kingdom. The new conscripts were sent back similarly to training camps. Most wouldn't survive. Cyrus allowed a smile to pass over his face. This village may have been small, but to him it meant more land for the fief Nirek had given him. Soon, Nirek would control the entire Western Plains. Then Cyrus' fief would be the size of some of the kingdoms that existed now. As the last of the slaves and conscripts were taken away, Cyrus went to talk with his scouts, and learn of where the next source of wealth and people lay.

Broken. Weak. Defeated. Powerless. The war had been fought and somehow, incredibly the Crusaders had defeated him. Inexpicably, his forces had been pushed back and they had reached his fortress. He shook uncontrollably as the flashbacks took a hold of him.

"They're here, my Lord! They're at the gates!"
"Lord Uri, this is your end."
"My Lord, we can't hold them any longer!"
Uri took a deep breath. His life, his dream was crashing in around him. He had been able to hold his temper for now. But anger, frustration, and fear were bubbling up inside him. His head was bent low, his hands were shaking.
Then the Crusaders reached the throne room. He glanced up with his bloodshot eyes and saw the battle retreat into the room. His heart was taken by complete hopelessness. He raised his staff in anger, the darkest most damaging magic coursing through his veins from the depths of his soul. The spells rose to his lips in an unorganized scream and lightning shot from his staff in every direction. The room was filled with fire and smoke suffocated both Crusaders and defenders alike. He felt his body twist uncontrollably and his anger hit its peak...

He returned to conciousness sometime later. It took a few minutes for him to realize what happened. He had lost control of his magic. He could be anywhere, now. Where was he anyway? What day was it? And what has become of his beloved empire...

Tirel
The caravan had been on the road for a day. At its head was a lone unicorn rider, bearing the black-flame standard of Nirek's kingdom. Behind him were four dewback-pulled cages, filled with men and women. These were the top pick of the slaves Cyrus had sent to be sold at Tirel. The port was one of the largest slave trading areas in the world, and Nirek had been quick to take advantage of it. As the caravan entered the city, it seperated; the cages filled with all women went in the direction of the city's harems, while the ones filled with men, and some women, went to the city's market square. When they approached the market and unloaded the slaves, there were a few escape attempts. All failed, and all ended with the deaths of those who tried. As the auctions began in the market, the other half was pulling into the first of the harems. The masters came out, examined the choices, made their selections, and went back inside with 5 or 6 new whores. This continued as the caravan was slowly emptied of people, and when it was fully empty, it turned and went to await the other half. At the end of the day, 65 men and women had been sold by Nirek's merchants. The money would be split between Nirek's personal keep, and the subordinate responsible for taking the slaves, in this case Cyrus. No one in the city took any particular notice of the event. To them, it was just another deal, in a city that now survived on doing any business it could.

The Great Dragon Mage Mechan stood on the hill overlooking the town of Algan, the home of the Dragon Nurturers. The people were unaware of what was coming. Mechan's great adversary, Uri, was returning. Echigus, the huge golden dragon companion of Mechan, roared and blew a plume of fire into the air. Both of them sensed the Dark Lord as one.

The heart of the Eastern Woods was untouched by the corruption of the rest of the world, although it had almost felt the torch the same as its fringes. As Celur Belithrar sat on the forest floor, he could feel the land beginning to heal itself. This was about the brightest spot in Celur's life about now. If those horribly ravaged lands could heal themselves, so could the rest of the world, in time. At the same time, though, Celur's heart sank. He knew that now that his land was healing itself, he was obligated to venture forth and help the rest of the world recover. All of the great races were in turmoil, man quite possibly had suffered the worst. They had lost much of the nobility that they had fought so hard for before the Dark Lord's reign had begun.
Celur stood and began walking back to the Ranger's camp, knowing it could be a long time before he returned to his beloved woods and his beloved people.

The Dark Lord had figured it out. When he lost control of his magic, he teleported elsewhere. But where exactly? His strength was returning, he was no longer weak. Basic magic was once again easy for him. True, he was no where near as powerful as he had been before. But in time, he would return and retake the land. Not a pace of land below the Northern limits would belong to anyone but him. He would defeat all who stood in his way, including, no, especially, Mechan.

His mind began to wander. How many of his men remained faithful? How long would it take to regain the power to completely control the magic capabilities of his staff? Where is the nearest village...

The throne room of Nirek's fortress on Mount Karnak was dimly lit by torches. Nirek's throne was set at the top of a small set of stairs. Each step had the name of one of Nirek's opponents he had killed in battle. Two figures entered the throne room as Nirek discussed the recent income with an adviser. "Leave us," he said, gesturing to the accountant. The man hurried out through a side door. "What is it?" he asked of the two figures. One stepped forward, a woman, garbed in a long black rode and carrying a spiked whip on her waist. "We," she began, gesturing to the other man in the room, "have sensed a great rift in the magic flux. We believe that the Dark Lord may have survived the battle at his fortress." Nirek gripped the edges of his throne. "What?! How is this possible!?" "We don't know, Lord. It occurred only a short time ago." Nirek paused, deep in thought. After a short time, he spoke, "Kiolae, go with Zaras to the site of the Dark Lord's fortress. There is still a great magic nexus there. Go, and discover what you can. Then report to me." Liolae, the woman, and Zaras, the man who had remained in the shadows, bowed at the waist. "We do as you bid, Lord," they spoke in unison. Then they left, bound for the Dark Lord's fortress.

Father Enki Odin glanced around the Monestary of Peace with deep regret in his eyes. His brothers, his fathers were dead. The war with the Dark Lord had cost the Monestary almost all of its friars. The air was cool as the Wise Friar sat in the Garden of the Blessed Mother. He glanced around at the crumbling marble and in one swift moment, he knew that he had to act. Deep within his inner eye he could see that the Dark Lord was alive and well. He needed to warn someone.

The Wise Friar gathered two white carrier pigeons from the Monestary's communication centre. He wrote two notes, one requesting a visit with Nirek and the other with Mechan. He sent the pigeons to each of the leaders and then returned to the garden, praying that he would hear from the men soon.

As Celur led the majority of his Rangers to the edge of the Forest. Here, the destruction was obvious. Once mighty trees now lay scorched on the ground. His mound growled beneath him at the smell of death. Celur pointed his men west, heading toward the Tirel. He planned to work in the Plains first, so it would be best to announce his intentions first, to prevent Nirek from panicking at the arrival of several elves near him.

The Wise Friar gathered two white carrier pigeons from the Monestary's communication centre. He wrote two notes, one requesting a visit with Nirekand the other with Mechan. He sent the pigeons to each of the leaders and then returned to the garden, praying that he would hear from the good men soon.

OOC-I think, based off my first two posts, it is technically impossible to call Nirek a "good man." But hey, not my call.

IC-Kiolae and Zaras were both reasonably strong in the arts of magic. They knew that if they got close enough to the nexus at the Dark Lord's fortress they could seek him out. But what to do next? "We should join him," asserted Zaras as they climbed up yet another mountain trail, "he is far stronger than Nirek." Kiolae rolled her eyes. This man was so irritating. "Even if he is more powerful, Nirek has much more land and troops. He could crush the Dark Lord flat. Especially if he's weakened, which we know he is. Joining with the Dark Lord now is a death sentence."

OOC: Sorry, hadn't fully read all posts on the thread.

Tailon Valor walked down the long, hard packed dirt road. The air stung his face, froze his lungs with every breath, his eyes were down cast as he fought his way into the wind. Home. He was going home.

He wondered what his father would think of him leaving his post. He had long since given up hoping for his father's love, though he still hoped he might win the old man's respect. He had hoped that when he joined the army of Tirel, following in his father's footsteps. His father, once a captain of the local garrison, demoted for daring to marry a peasent woman. His father, always so cold and distant towards his wife and son, who Tailon had always felt beholden too. His father would never say it aloud, but he expected his son to follow in his footsteps, as if by costing him his career his son owed it to him to take his place. Perhaps, that was why his father had treated his enlistment as no great matter, as if it were mearly a fulfilment of the inevitable. Or perhaps his father secretly despised his son for not having the courage to stand up for himself. Well, perhaps he would respect him now.

The war had held little action for Tailon until the final battle. His company had been garrisoned in the city, and he had been home many times during the war. He had been lucky, that way. But then, in the last summer of the war, the wizard's army had sacked the city of Tirel itself, as the Royal family fled by boat and left the companies to pull out on foot. He still remembered the shame as he saw the fleeing crowds, thousands of people trying to fight their way over the bridges, or swim the river to safety, only to sink beneath the water or be trampled under foot. The look of betrayal in their eyes as the troops pulled out. Or perhaps he had only imagined it.

He remembered his last visit home. It was the depths of winter, and he had just been told to head back to the front to join the attack to retake Tirel. But what he remembered most was that it was the first time his father had shown him any affection. Perhaps because he realized that they might never meet again this side of death. The old man resented his retirement, deemed too old to fight one last time, but when Tailon walked away, the last thing he saw was his father standing in the village square, leaning on a staff, in front of a line of women and children bearing crude, makeshift spears. And the last thing he had heard was the old man bellowing orders like the captain he had once been, training his people to stand their ground if the army failed to hold the line.

(OOC: is Nirek actually a demon, or is he just a bastard?:))

(OOC: Sorry for the tripple post. I took a break after the last IC post because it was kind of long, and I was hoping someone else would post before I continued. Anyway, some more of my character's backstory, which I want to get out of the way tonight).

Tailon recalled the day of the final attack. For a week they had fought the wizard's forces in the plains, trying to break through to the city itself. His company had seen three real battles and several raids, and they had stood in the lines twice to meet attacks that never came. And now, it was time for them to assault the city itself.

Only the previous night, news had come through that the wizard had reallocated most of his forces to the west, and that the few companies still facing them had withdrawn across the river. It had been as cold then as now, but he had barely felt it. All around him the camps had been in turmoil; officers shouting orders, cavalry mounting, men dousing fires and packing tents, companies forming along a low line of hills. The mages had gone through their same routine as they had before each day's fighting, chanting their spells and casting protective wards on the officers, the seige engines, and the key positions. All as before, but this time it was different. He was no stranger to war by then, but this was different. The scale was greater, the tension higher. This was not just one more in a long chain of battles. This was the great attack.

Not all of the men had been from the Tirel army, of course. The war had driven many from their homes, and in the Great Crusade many had fought a common foe under one command. Their had even been elves marching in the ranks, and other, stranger creatures. Tailor had felt the blood rushing through his veins, the nervous excitment almost unbearable as the battle drew closer. He rememberd standing in line, his heart pounding as he tried to hold his sword steady, watching as the fireballs began to fly.

The first wave had struck the city from outside the range of catapults or bows, only to be deflected by the enemy's wards. As the companies began to move forward, the points of impact had advanced in front of them, while ahead of the men a wall of flame in the coulors of Tirel ran across the frozen ground, shielding the assault. Behind this protection the men began to advance, rank on rank, company on company, crossing the river and approaching the walls on bridges hastilly constructed the night before.

He did not remember hearing the signal to march, nor the trek across the last open mile towards the city walls, but he remembered the final charge as if he stood their now. He heard the horn blowing, the surge of adrenaline as all the building tension of the preceding hours was released in a moment. He remembered charging forward, saw the faces of his friends around him. Saw the first one fall with an arrow in his throat. And then another. And another. He remembered stumbling over a body near the foot of the walls, the wet muck on his face. Staring at the bloody mess on the ground that had been a man's head moments before, now scattered by a magical projectile. He remembered flames raining down on them, the screams. He put his hand on the ladder and began to climb, only to be knocked back by the fall of the man above. He scrambled back up, but something clutched at his leg. He turned, struggling to free himself, filled with fear and rage and exhileration, and saw Gelt staring up at him. Gelt the company mage, a man he had seen a thousand times, who had spoken to him rarely but always courteously, his helmet dented by a blow that had pierced his wards...

He started out of the dream, realizing that he had been walking asleep. Stopping, he glanced around. He couldn't tell how far he had stumbled on like that, but he did notice that it was getting dark. To his right, he saw a collumn of smoke wafting into the air. Another burnt village, like two he had passed in the last two days since leaving his post. Thanking fortune that he hadn't stumbled into a group of bandits, he turned, climbing the hill to his left to get a better view. He didn't want to see the wreckage, but he wanted to know if their were enemies about. Keeping low, he crept along the hill top behind the barren, broken shrubs. Up ahead was a bare, twisting tree. Creeping towards it, he layed a hand on its trunk. The bark was rough and covered with frost. Few trees survied this cold.

He ran his hand down the bark, then stopped. Something was etched in the side of the trunk. He looked at it, straining to see in the dark, cold dread slowly seeping through him. He turned, staggered to his feet, and stumbled down the hill towards the village, his mind running back to a warm spring day fourteen years before, when a young boy had carved the initials of Tailon Valor into a tree.

It was all but night when he stumbled across the frozen creek bed past the ruins of a crude log bridge. He stood in the open space before him, staring at the charred, shattered timbers of the houses and the dim lumpy shapes lying between them, breathing in the smell of rotting flesh. He turned around slowly, taking in the horror, his eyes coming at last to rest again on the tree on hill. Slowly, he fell to his knees, tears streaming silently down his face. He was home, and he was alone, and he wept as the night closed in around him.

Aldus woke up in a sweat, the images of his last dream just leaving his mind. Another Restless night.... When will I be able to move on and be at peace with the world? Aldus thought to himself. Aldus threw a shirt over his scarred chest and went for a walk in the cool night.

As he walked, memories from past conflicts came to his mind. The Sack of Tirel, where he had seen the death of many a young man. The battle of the Northern plains, where Cavalry smashed into each other for what felt like Eons. But above all he remembered the final assualt on the Dark Lord's citadel. It was raining, raining so hard it felt like every drop that hit you put a dent in your armor. He was there when his brother was teleported inside, never to return again. How he wished he could have gone in his stead, how he should have. He remembered his brother's final words to him, "Aldus my brother, how you have grown, to think one day you shall be king."

"I want to go with you Magnus, I want to be there."

"Alas my brother it cannot be so. You are the heir to the Kingdom of Oblivion, you are more brave than any other warrior I have every fought beside, but if you go now and you fall, the kingdom will be left without an heir. Good bye my brother, I shall see you one day." and in a blink of magical light he vanished. Aldus did his best to hold the line for his brother, and when he saw the Dark Citadel Crumble in the distance he cheered. But when he saw the grave looks on the faces of the Mages, he knew his brother would never return.

Aldus returned to his tent, and waited for the western sun to rise. He prayed someone would come along and make his day interesting.

It was almost night again when he layed the last body on the pyre. His hands were raw from the cold and cut by splinters, and his face was numb from the icy wind, but he did not notice any more. He stood their for a long time, speaking again and again the prayer for the dead, once for each body as the flames rose into the darkening sky. Last of all he spoke for his father, and his mother.

"I may not have been the son you sought in life. I am sorry I never had a chance to speak to you again, to..." he stumbled over the words for a moment, wiped a tear away.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here. I'm sorry I failed you. But I will not fail again. I will find those who are still alive, and I will bring our people home. And I will avenge you." Twice again he spoke the prayer, then stood, staring at the flickering pyre. After a long time, he turned away. Slowly he climbed the hill to the old tree. It was colder here, away from the fire. He wrapped his cloak around him, and looked up at the dark, starry sky. By the moon it was past midnight. He looked back down at the smoldering pyre. Their was nothing left for him here. His mind drifted back to the assault on Tirel...

He stared down at Galt as the old mage struggled to speak. Fireballs tore through the men around him, but somehow they did not strike him or the old mage. He knelt at the old man's side. Galt mumbled something, then closed his eyes. Tailon was about to turn away when the mage gasped and grabbed his wrist. He struggled to speak, then reached down and clumsily pulled something from the pouch at his side. He pressed it into Tailon's hand.

"Take it, Tailon. I won't need it where I'm going." He gasped again, more feebly, his hand slipping from Tailon's wrist.

"Now run boy. Run." With a final cough the Galt slumped to the ground, dead. The horn was blowing, calling the retreat. In a daze, Tailon began to run...

Sitting above the remains of his home, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small blue stone that the dying mage had given to him. In the moonlight, it seemed to glow faintly, vibrating with energy in his palm. He had wondered sometimes what it was, why the mage had given it to him. Now, he felt he needed to know. Many their had been among the village people who's bodies had not been left lying amid the ruins. He didn't know if they were still alive, but he had to try. Whatever this stone was, it might be able to help in. He needed something. Anything.

He made his way back to the bottom of the hill. The pyre was burning low now. He saw a crude spear lying unbroken at his feet, much like the other ones he had seen his father train the villagers to wield. Many lay broken around the rough dirt field that had been the village square. Arrows stuck in shattered timbers. They had not died without a fight.

He picked up the spear. It fit his hand well. He turned to face the pyre again, murmuring a prayer of farewell. Then he turned to face the first faint gleam of light in the east. The clouds were faintly tinged with pink and orange. The wind was in his face, seeming to blow a sad lament across the hills. He raised his eyes to the sky, and spoke a prayer, not of lamentation or of parting, but of good hunting. Then, without another backward glance, he began to run.

Watch's Edge

The small community was one of the few in Darkwatch, that was above ground. No matter how much they disliked it the Murk Dwellers that resided there, understood it as a necessity. The soft swampland was not suitable for tunneling. It had long been deemed impossible. Thus life went on, on the surface, and no matter how much the residents disliked it, the fact would remain. Watch's Edge served as the major trading point between Darkwatch, and the rest of the world. It was the furthest Murk Dweller settlement from the mountains, and the most accessible one, even if that was by river. To reach the other trading posts, meant long journeys through, or over the central mountains, or deep into the swamps, where the will-o'-the-wisp, would lead lead many astray, lost till their deaths in the complex swamps.

It was night, and many were out, in the light of the green flamed lanterns, that cast a glow soothing to the Murk Dwellers eyes. Conversations drifted, as they had of late, towards the great lack of trade, or word, from many of the old realms, that they had dealt with before the fall of the Dark Wizard. Word from other nations, had at first been plentiful, then drifted away. Until now, when it had been nearly six months since the last traders had made their way up the Arand river. Occasionally, elves had been spotted, across the river, or at least had been reported to have been spotted, though the daylight had been known to play tricks, and never had the elves cross the river, with news, or trade, nor however had the Murk Dwellers. So such reports, remained unsubstantiated. Word continued to flow from the rest of the empire, as did goods. Goods that were now piling up in Watch's Edge, with no where to go. Sometimes goods were sent back, with messages reporting on full storehouses, and no visits.

Watch's Heart, Emperor's Residence

The Emperor, sat in his study, working by the light of green flames. Reports continued to flood in from the trading posts. Generally, they said, stop sending goods, our storehouses are full. Still no traders or word from the outside world. The most promising reports, came from Watch's Edge, were Elves would be seen every once in a while.

The emperor did not know what to do. Food shortages were near, and lack of timber had already halted excavation on most tunneling projects. The smiths claimed, that they had devised an steel structure, that could replace the timber supports, however, steel was rare, and such a structure was unsupported. Efforts had been made in the swamps to provide timber, however those trees proved unsuitable for tunnel supports.

The food issue was easier solved, many plants from the swamps could be eaten, though their taste was enough to make dragon's breath smell appetizing. He sighed. After reading the last stack of reports, he left his office, walked to his bed chamber, where he donned his Silk robes of tan, and beige, and his gold crown encrusted with Jewels, before setting out for the Grand Council chambers.

Watch's Heart, Grand Council Chambers

The Grand Council Chambers, as with much of Watch's Heart, were situated deep below the mountains, in some of the deepest tunnels still in use. The lower ones had been abandoned, due to frequent collapses, and reports of strange happenings. It was deemed that not even Murk Dwellers were suited to live that deep. That far from nature. Emperor Linksys, entered the Grand Council chambers, in his finest robes. Today, would be one of the greatest decisions of his life. He made his way to the podium, that faced out into the semi-circle of the Grand Council. He looked out at them, and spoke,

My friends, we have reached a crossroads, which will decide the fate of our race. For six months, ne'er a trader has crossed into our lands, nor have we had word from the outside world. Already, we are seeing the effects of these events. goods are piling up in our stockhouses, our timber reserves have run dry, and food is running dangerously low. For three months now, we have discussed this issue, and continually, your advice to me, has been, 'wait a few weeks, we are sure they will come again.' Well, for three months I have taken your advice, to no avail. Now, I deem it necessary, to get to the route of this issue. I now declare, in the full power of my position and title, that three groups shall be sent out, to investigate the goings on of the outside world. For too long, we have hid in our corner of the world. Even when the Evil Wizard threatened the world, we cowered. These squads, shall be of our finest warriors, traders and diplomats. They shall seek out old trading partners, and friends. So I decree, so will be done.

At that, the council replied, "So you have decreed, so shall be done."

The emperor then departed, not feeling like dealing with the council today, they could voice their concerns tomorrow, after the squads departed. He already had ordered drafted, each group would consist of 3 warriors, two merchants, and a diplomat. The three groups would go forth to meet with the Elves of the Eastern Forest, the great order at the Monestary of Peace, and the men of Tirel.

The Sun rose again before Tailor entered the city of Tirel. The walls were manned with soldiers, the streets crowded with people, but the signs of recent warfare were still many to behold. The walls were scared and battered, many of the houses burned. In one of the squares, several elves, a human young man and woman, and a strange creature Tailor didn't recognize had been publicly hung. On each was hung a sign that read "Man shall not ally with Beast." Tailor bowed his head in shame. Was this how the new "king" treated former allies? Scrawny, hollow-eyed people shuffled past, carefully avoiding looking at the soldiers who lined the square. Tailor kept his head down and his hood up. He had no wish to end up with his neck in a noose himself.

He recalled the day they had heard news of the dark wizard's fall. That night the men had celebrated their victory with wine and roaring fires, their drunken songs rising into the night. Three days later their commander, Marshal Seroc, had called the men before him to announce their next campaign. They were to march again on Tirel and retake the city, in the name of King and Country.

The camp was subdued as they prepaired for the second attack. The tension was no less than it had been before, but the last time they had made this march thousands of them had walked into a trap laid by the dark wizard's minions, for nothing more than a diversion.

This time however their had been little resistance. The dark wizard's forces had fallen back to the city almost at once, with only a few minor skirmishes to halt the advance. For a week they had camped outside the walls, the commanders fearful of facing a trap like the last attack. But every day, more reports trickled out, of fighting and starvation within the city. Then one night the sky was lit by flames from within the walls, as the dark wizard's captains turned on each other in a bid for power. The next day they had simply marched into the city through a shattered gate after the wizards found a breach in the wards to widen. Three hours later, the city was their's.

Tailon remembered the hope in the people's starved and ravaged faces as they greeted the soldiers. They had deserved better. It had all happened so suddenly. One night his company had been turned out of their bunks to "surpress a mutiny." Only later, after the Royal Family "disapeared," did everyone realize that the "mutiny" had been carried out by the loyalist forces. Two days later, Marshal Saroc had declared himself king. The next dawn, Tailon had gone out on patrol and simply walked away.

He doubted he would be welcomed back. Saroc had never been less than brutal towards deserters. But if their were survivors from his village, they were most likely slaves, and if one wished to sell human chattel, the city was the best place to go. The market was not far ahead. He quickened his pace.

The embers burnt dully on the forest floor. Watched by four men and their game, hung upon branches ready to be skinned. Whilst four of the men sat watching the fire die one sat with his eyes fixed deep into the forest. All the men knew they weren't to hunt here but emergency had forced them into the fertile, untouched forests.
IndentThe sounds of a tree rustling carried itself through the branches and leaves of the Forest to the attuned ears of the watcher. "Hush!" He quietly ordered to his compatriots who instantly ended their muted conversation. The watcher rose his crossbow into the dense woodlands, for a moment he rested on a point before pushing the trigger and releasing a bolt into the shadowy forest.
IndentA heavy creature fell from its branch and the watcher slowly made his way over to the kill. It was a young falcon drawn by the curiosity of the humans. It's death would not be a waste as he bought its corpse back to the fire.
IndentThe men round the fire watched the watcher as he bought the kill closer to the fire. A bolt of light glanced the polished metal of a Pilum as a creature burst elegantly through the forest and forced its weapon through the mans chest.
IndentNow meters away the men saw the perils of the forest. The tall form of an armed eagle who kept his weapon embedded into the chest of the watcher as he struggled for life. The men forgot their hunt, leaving the deer corpses to hang upon branches and fled towards the forest edge.
IndentSeparated in the chaos the men found themselves each assaulted by the hushed attacks of their enemy. Two men burst free from the forest. A pilum pulled one man back into the Forest as his partner backed away from two guards forcing him free of the forest with a look on their animal faces which asked what they were going to do with his still struggling friend. He ran to make it free of this hell awful place.

++++

The mans corpse made a loud thud as it hit the marble floor of the Palace. His body had been stripped of clothes and accessories and now only showed his wounds. "Poachers, Majoris." A lower bird illustrated as the Hunter and Majoris stared across the room.
Indent"They're becoming more common. Not only men now. Elves even Dwarves." The Hunter rolled the body over to show the pierced skull face to the court. "This one breached our hunting grounds and killed three deer." He grumbled "We must respond to this threat before we are drawn into the anarchy that has destroyed the lands of men."
IndentThe Majoris stared at the body. "What is your proposal Hunter?" He asked.
Indent"In this world of desperation we could muster an army of those willing to work for whatever the price and whoever the paymaster." He paused. "Majoris, we already have a large collective of men working in our quarries. I see no issue in hiring more for our armies."
IndentThe Majoris mulled over this proposal for a moment. "Very well Hunter. Form your army."

Jamben shivered through his fur, not realizing just how cold it was getting. First there was the rain, a trifling matter due to his thick coat of many pockets, but as he continued to journey along the road along his crusade of thievery the weather started to get colder, the mountains started to get many, and soon enough the next rain spell brought sleet and snow instead of welcoming rain. It was at that point that he decided he’d rather be warm and fuzzy with the possibility of having his true identify known rather than cold and dead, and so the young thief trotted along the side of the road. He was at least thankful for his coat, which concealed most of his animal features while also hiding much of his muzzle beneath a wide brimmed hat, his gloves too helped hide the delicate fox paws that made his trade that much easier to practice.

But as he walked along the frozen road that wound through the tundra, so close to the central mountain range, he could almost swear he saw a small speck of black against the snow white landscape. Odd, he thought to himself, could it be a man lost in the snow, or merely an illusion? Still, it merit’s a visit I think… So the young thief stepped off the road, carefully counting his steps as he went over to what he hoped was a figure not to far away. It didn’t occur to him to change his figure back to that of a human, but given the cold, the blurring winds and the sleet that obscured vision anymore, it was doubtful they could see more than a figure well clothed in a thick warm jacket and wide brimmed hat.

After what felt like days of waiting, the Linebreakers finally had a job. A village not too far from there location had been plagued by bandits. One day the villagers got fed up with the bandits abuse and began secretly training a militia to stop them. Naturally word got out of the villagers intentions, and in the dead of night the bandits came and kidnapped the women and children of the village, as well as all the weapons they had. They then left the following demands with the village elder, "We want 1500 gold peices by the end of the week, if we don't get it your women will be come our tools, and your children will become our slaves."

Naturally this didn't sit too well with the elder, so he did the cheaper thing and hired the Linebreakers to save his people.

The forest was eirily quiet that morning, not an animal to be heard. It didn't take long for the thirty men of the linebreakers to track the bandits back to their camp. They outnumbered them 2 to 1, but the linebreakers had the benifit of surprise and disipline. Aldus had commanded his men to split into four groups. The first group would wait beside the road, if the bandits tried to run, they would be ambushed and killed. The second and third groups were on opposite sides of the camp, waiting for the order to begin there deadly hail of crossbow bolts. The fourth group was in the woods behind the camp, they were all imbued with spells of illusion, so they could take out the guards by the prisoner cells quietly.

The fourth group managed to get word to the prisoners that there cages were unlocked, but in order to survive they would have to wait until the attack began. Aldus was part of the forth group. He loaded his crossbow and aimed at the bandit leader, he took in a deep breath, squeezed the trigger, and listened to the twang of the bolt as it flew towards it's target. It collided with the leaders head with a satisfying thunk. The Bandits had little time to react as the linebreakers stood up from their hiding places and began to assualt the bandits with deadly crossbow fire. Aldus drew his blade and sprinted to the cages. He cut down any guards who stood in his way, cutting the leg of one, slicing anothers throat, and mangling a thirds face. When the cages had been cleared of guards, he order the fourth group to form a shield wall, to protect the villagers from arrows as they escaped into the forest.

By this time the bandits were organized and had started firing on the men in the fourth group, unluckily for the bandits, every member of the linebreakers was skilled in magic, so no arrows managed to peirce any linebreaker. After being barraged, cut down, and losing there leader, the bandits decided to cut there loses and retreat, unluckily for them they were soon cut down by the first group Aldus had left behind to prevent them from escaping.

His victory complete, Aldus returned to the village with all the women and children relatively unharmed. The village Elder asked, "How can we ever repay you o noble knight?"

Aldus smiled and said, "Any gold you won't need to get throught the winter would be appreciated, and we request that we could stay here for the night."

The elder smiled a kind smile and said, "I think we can arrange that young one, Samuel, prepare us a feast, tonight we celebrate."

Aldus laughed, for he knew tonight he would not have to worry about his nightmares of the past, only the soft silky calls of a local woman's bosom.

OOC: If anyone wants to RP with the Linebreakers, you could hire them as mercs for your faction/character.

Celur and his Rangers rode across many miles of open plains uninterrupted until they heard a scream on their fourth day. Celur led five of his Rangers over a hill and observed a caravan under attack by bandits. Celur frowned and pulled his bow off his back. He drew an arrow, notched it, lined it up with the back of who appeared to be the bandit leader. As the man raised his mace to crush the skull of one of the men in the caravan, Celur released his arrow. It flew true and the bandit dropped dead. The Rangers followed suit and the bandits were soon forced to flee. Celur wondered if he should help them, but they seemed to be recovering all right, so the elven leader decided against it. As he returned to the rest of his men, Celur shook his head. That attack had only proven his point about coming out here in the first place.

(OOC: my guy's still rambling around Tirel port looking for the survivors from his village, but I'll keep the possibility in mind. Never know when some extra swords would be useful, especially if you throw magic in. :))

(OOC: Well I'm in the western Plains, maybe we will arrive with our money to get our equipment repaired, and since some of my members are elves we could come into conflict with the king of Tirel, so you would have a reason to hire us)

The Dark Lord walked briskly through the thick woods, his hood pulled low over his face and his cloak flying out behind him in the breeze. He had regained much of his strength and he had control over many of his powers. However, he wasn't quite ready to experiment with his teleportation abilities.

It was after midnight; he reasoned that it would be safer for him to travel at night. As he reached the edge of the wood he saw the flickering of torches from a village nearby. Racing down the grassy hill toward the village, he used his newly regained power to temporarily transfigure himself. As his face twisted, he chose a simple generic peseant face. He slowed as he reached the village. A beacon cast a pool of light onto the earth next to the tent nearest the Dark Lord. Tucking his staff into the confines of his cloak, the Dark Lord lowered his hood. "You! Boy!" He called out in a scraggly voice to a passing farmboy. "Help a drunken old man, lad. W-where is thi-*hiccup*-is village at, dear boy?" "We're in the village of Aldrog to the north of Gall." The boy said with a look of pity.

Nothing was fake about the smile that spread across the Dark Lord's face. He now knew where he was. And he could begin to plan his rise back to power.

(OOC: is Nirek actually a demon, or is he just a bastard?:))

OOC-he's more of a psychotic killer. and he just wears a demon mask. Again, I'm basing him off V quite a bit.

IC-
Dark Lord's Fortress
Kiolae and Zaras sat cross-legged, in meditation stance. Small bursts of green fire sprung up in their palms, then were extinguished. They were deep in the magic flux. Searching for the Dark Lord.

A Village Near Tirel
The two men could not be called "men" in the usual sense of the word. They were known by most as "shadows". These were Vindicare Temple assassins, some of the best in the world. Their temple had specialized in dark magic, and had been incorporated into Nirek's kingdom as his personal guards and assassins. Now they were on a mission, not of death, but of kidnapping. Two of this village's inhabitants had been loudly proclaiming they had found a nexus of magic greater than that of the one at the Dark Lord's fortress. Nirek wanted to know where this was. The two villagers walked towards where the shadows hid. When they were right in front of them, the shadows threw a smoke bomb and in seconds the two villagers were gone. Those who witnessed it were dead, knives buried in their throats. The village would believe it had been marauders, and never speak of it again.

[OOC: I take it that the Dark Lord's old keep is in the northern wastes, mind a rogue stumbling upon the two people in meditation then? x3]

OOC-sure.

[OOC: I take it that the Dark Lord's old keep is in the northern wastes, mind a rogue stumbling upon the two people in meditation then? x3]

Actually, its supposed to be just south of the river Tirel, in the southern foothills of the Great Range. It was something of a forward base during the war, which wasn't as secure as he thought it was.:)

Actually, its supposed to be just south of the river Tirel, in the southern foothills of the Great Range. It was something of a forward base during the war, which wasn't as secure as he thought it was.:)

[OOC: Ah~ I'll figure something out then.]

OOC-sure.

(OOC:I was wondering if your maurauders could turn out to be the ones who burned my character's village?)

(OOC:I was wondering if your maurauders could turn out to be the ones who burned my character's village?)

OOC-sure. I'm always looking for more chances to be evil. Quick IC post to establish the story:

IC-As far as he knew, he was the last survivor. His village had been attacked by a band of marauders some time ago. He couldn't be sure when; he had lost track of time. Their leader had been a man who could not even be considered a shadow of a man. He was a demon. He still remembered that horrible face glaring at him as the demon killed his friends. He had been taken as a slave, sold to a merchant in Tirel. He was still waiting to be sold. As far as he knew, he was the last one left. No one else from his village had survived. Except one. It was a distant memory, but he recalled a man from the village who had left shortly before the demon had attacked. Perhaps he was still out there...

Mechan and Echigus could feel it now. The Dark Lord was regaining his power. He was coming closer. The dragon mage knew that as soon as Uri was powerful enough, he would attempt to break the thick and intricate wards of the Nurturers city, Algan. Then he would come for Mechan. He knew that he needed to act first to stop the threat. He had to mobilize the cavalry regiment. He walked down from his shack on the small foothill at the base of the mountains, and walked into the town hall, a building carved into the twisted trunk of a tree that no one knows the name of. He called his executive officer, Colonel McDonald. The armored man walked over, helmet under his arm.

"You called, master?"

"Yes. Uri is moving, and growing powerful again. He is going to go to his fortress, if I have guessed him correctly. We must mobilize the Nurturers, and move to the keep of the Dark Lord."

"How do you know?"

"How long have you been alive, McDonald?"

"57."

"Exactly." The 540 year-old mage walked away. He ran around, with Echigus, rousing the city. The troops were moving. They sang their battle song as they exited the dark forests of the elves:

We march, we march, we march to Uri's house.
We march, we march, we march not to our deaths.
We march to victory, we're sure, as is the world.
We march, we march, we march to Uri's house.

The Dark Lord spent the night on the outskirts of that village. He knew he wasn't strong enough to maintain his disguise overnight and if he was discovered this close to one of the main cities, there would be a sure sudden change in the kingdoms.

The morning came quickly but Uri was awake before sunrise. He entered the village, stole the strongest steed he could find, and galloped south toward Gall. Maybe he could find a servant still loyal to him. If he could, the deception possibilities are endless...

The Dark Lord's Fortress
Kiolae let out a gasp. "I've found him," she announced. She visibly concentrated, the flames in her palms growing brighter and larger. "He's....somewhere north of Galt...he's weak...very weak..." Suddenly, the fires vanished. "I've lost him." she said to Zaras. "He's north of Galt, but not too far north. And he's very weak." She turned to Zaras. "I told you allying with him now was a bad idea." Zaras help up his palms. "OK, OK, you win." An evil grin passed over his face. "Now you lose." Lightning shot from his fingertips and hit Kiolae in the stomach, elicting a shriek of pain. Zaras advanced. "With you out of the way, the size of my fief will double." He sent two more bursts of lightning at Kiolae, but as the third was on its way, she raised a hand and clenched it into a fist. The lightning fizzled. "My turn," she spoke, then in an instant green fire shot from her palms. The magic blasted Zaras onto his back, halfway across the fortress. In a flash, Kiolae had her whip in hand and had launched it at Zaras. It struck him on the face, then coiled around him. Kiolae walked up to him. "You know the thing about treachery?" she asked evily. "It has to be well-planned. Guess that just was never your strong spot." With that, she sent a burst of fire, burning his entire body. As she walked down the mountain, she contacted Nirek via crystal ball, leaving a charred and smoking skeleton.

The fox was cold, wet, and tired, but at least he was out of the cold tundra to the north. He had wandered off the trail to look at what he thought was someone off to the side, but ended up losing whatever it was in the blinding snow. Lost and unable to find the road back, he walked towards the only noticeable landscape he could see, the central mountain range. He was lucky there, his eyes spotting a trail in the mountains. Following it he eventually came down from the mountains and onto the Western Plains.

Blessing his luck he decided to move along the plains without the wet clothes, and calling upon the innate nature magic that flowed through his race’s veins, transfigured himself into the form of a fox. Now strolling along as a feral creature he made his way along until he spotted a large structure on the horizon. Unaware that it was a ruin of some significance (indeed, he was only a cub during the war and his race never got involved) he made his way to it, thinking that it might have been a village where he could find a warm bed, as well as the possibility of some profitable items for the plucking.

He was sorry disappointed when all he found was a ruined keep, but that didn’t stop him from sniffing around, until the creature stopped dead in his tracks and watched as two mages fought over some ritual surface. He hopped that they didn’t detect him, but the smell of natural magic on a fox was never a good thing for remaining undetected. Luckily though, the thunder bolts and fire spells seemed to mask his magical trail, and the fox gave a soft sigh of relief.

OOC-my people left some stuff at the fortress. If you want you could look through it and find something significant yet mysterious, starting an exciting quest, yadadadadada....or you could just find some clothes, food, stuff to sell, whatever

OOC-my people left some stuff at the fortress. If you want you could look through it and find something significant yet mysterious, starting an exciting quest, yadadadadada....or you could just find some clothes, food, stuff to sell, whatever

[OOC: I was planning on it, as well as him sitting down for camp at the night, and perhaps getting visited by a pissed off ghost who wants to sabotage your character and sending him on a quest to go south. XD]

OOC-sure. go for it

OOC: Well I was planning on looking at the stuff because my men will quickly be at the fortress. Also, where is the keep in relation to everything?

The Eastern Slopes of the Central Mountains

The party bound for Tirel, crossed over, or more specifically through, the Central Mountains. They soon arrived at the easternmost tunnel entrance, one that had not been used in many decades. As they began their climb down the mountains, they spotted the ruins of some man-made construct. They had no way of knowing it to be the Dark Wizard's Keep, and so, set forth towards it, to investigate.

The Easter Forest

The party sent out to seek the Elves, had reached the forest, and carefully began making their way into it's depths. No Murk Dweller had traveled so deep into the forest in ages. However, as the Emperor decreed, as would be done.

Somewhere

The final party, sent out to find the Monestary of Peace, were hopelessly lost. The exact location of the monastery had been lost some time ago by Darkwatcher scribes, and thus, the party was just sent out, in a specific direction, and told what to look for, though nothing looked at all like what they had been told it would. They were hopelessly lost.

(OOC: yea, Hierphil, can we get a rough location on this Monastery of Peace place?)

OOC: Ha, sure thing. The peak of the southern most mountain in the Central Mountains. I recommend traveling up the southern slope. Its slightly flatter and less rigorous.

OOC: Well I was planning on looking at the stuff because my men will quickly be at the fortress. Also, where is the keep in relation to everything?

(OOC:Just said where a few posts back. I didn't think it would be so important, since its just a ruin, or I would have cleared this up sooner).

Tailon pushed his way through the small crowd gathering around yet another platform where a tall man in robes, backed by an overseer with a whip and a couple of guards, was selling slaves. When he reached the front he scanned the crowd, but saw no one he recognized. Their were some others, he though, in a shed at the back, but he couldn't see who they were. He waited.

One by one, the slaves were brought forward for the crowd to bid. An old man for a copper coin. A young woman for three silvers. A child, barely half her height, for ten. The woman screamed as the crying child was taking away, fighting to reach him, but the guards dragged her back and bound her hands. One struck her in the face with a gauntled fist. Overcome with anger and disgust, Tailor layed a hand on his sword, but at the last moment restrained himself. Their were a dozen soldiers in the market at least. Starting a fight would accomplish nothing but his own death.

The sale continued until night fall, though fewer and fewer sales were made. At the end of the day, the guards bolted the doors of the shed shut. Tailor waited, but a guard remained standing outside. Darkness was some way off. Tailor headed across the now almost empty market, towards the warm glow and bustling, rowdy noise of a tavern. He might as well buy himself a drink. He reached into his pocket. The fool merchant had never even noticed when Tailor had cut his purse.

Actually, its supposed to be just south of the river Tirel, in the southern foothills of the Great Range. It was something of a forward base during the war, which wasn't as secure as he thought it was.:)

OOC-There you go. You're welcome :p Also, to

IC-The two men were forced to their knees in front of Nirek's throne. They had been interrogated, but had refused to yield any information. Their faces showed the signs of their torture. "Well, well," said Nirek. "You two were more resilient than I thought. But that must end. Where is the nexus?" "Go to hell," said one of the prisoners. He was cuffed on the back of the head by a sword handle. "You forgot, gentlemen, that you are already in hell." Nirek picked up a crystal ball. He showed to the men. In the ball was an image of their village. "Tell me what I want to know, or your village, and everyone in it, will be destroyed. I will ensure that your families are brought here, and I will personally kill them in front of your eyes." At this, the two broke. "The nexus is at the point where the Tirel River flows into to mountains. There is a waterfall. Behind the waterfall is a cavern. The nexus is there." "Thank you, gentlemen." In a flash, Nirek's hands held daggers. In a second, both men were lying on the ground, their throats slit. "Tell Simuir to commence the attack on the village. Tell him I want no prisoners. All dead." One of the guards bowed his head. "Yes, Lord." Nirek returned to his throne. He awaited the news from Kiolae and Zaras.

Dark Lord's Ruin Keep

It was night now, and while Jamben didn’t find a comfy bed in the ruins of the keep he had found a number of other items. Most were more practical than valuable, namely some food rations (good, wholesome, melt in your mouth like wine rations!), and a good quality bed roll which he took over his worn out and soggy version. Still, the only problem with the whole idea was the charred corpse of some mage who got himself blown up, but using a stick as a lever and letting the corpse roll down the rubble of the fort quickly fixed that. So he spent the rest of the afternoon resting at the fort, his body transformed into it’s human shape laying out on his new bed roll and enjoying the food that was so callously left behind. He even managed to get a fire going! Of course, the medium sized camp fire, raised on top of the ruin rumble of a keep, was like a beacon to anyone nearby, telling them that someone had inhabited the old lord’s fortress…

Dark Lord's Ruin Keep

It was night now, and while Jamben didn’t find a comfy bed in the ruins of the keep he had found a number of other items. Most were more practical than valuable, namely some food rations (good, wholesome, melt in your mouth like wine rations!), and a good quality bed roll which he took over his worn out and soggy version. Still, the only problem with the whole idea was the charred corpse of some mage who got himself blown up, but using a stick as a lever and letting the corpse roll down the rubble of the fort quickly fixed that. So he spent the rest of the afternoon resting at the fort, his body transformed into it’s human shape laying out on his new bed roll and enjoying the food that was so callously left behind. He even managed to get a fire going! Of course, the medium sized camp fire, raised on top of the ruin rumble of a keep, was like a beacon to anyone nearby, telling them that someone had inhabited the old lord’s fortress…

[OOC:^Which is it night or afternoon?]

As Jamben slept, there was a crack and suddenly there were two apparitions in front of him. The ghosts were the two men who Nirek had killed. They began to speak, in a loud, drawn out voice. "Jaaammmmbeeennnnn....."

The Dark Lord was almost to his old keep. He had decided against going to the cities. Too easy to be tracked down. Too easy to be felt out. Instead, he needed to fine tune his sense of the magical balance. He reasoned that it'd be wisest to return to the place where he lost his powers. The place where he last commanded his followers. And maybe, somehow, by returning to the keep, he could sense out a few loyal followers and begin his return.

[OOC:^Which is it night or afternoon?]

[OOC: In the afternoon he got rid of the body, it's now night and he's resting comfortably on an apparitions former items. Sorry if it's a bit confusing, I've been fighting a bit of a stomach bug these past few days so I've been somewhat distracted. ^^; ]

The hengeyokai was asleep by the time the two ghosts appeared before him, his human form tucked snugly into the blankets of the stolen bed roll. He had grown to comfortable with his spoils, unlike before when he slept with his double sword in hand or paw's reach, now it lay to the side of the fire. Which of course, might have been a good thing as apparitions might not have liked having a blade of metal slashed through their incorporeal forms from a half-awake fox. Still, that didn't mean he didn't try as he was awoken by a spine chilling cold sweeping through his form, his body twisting violently and his hand waved defensively at the two.

"Who, what, huh... oh man..." he said with a soft whine as he noticed what had decided to greet him that night. His body was cold, wet from his own sweat from troubled dreams and nightmares no doubt caused by the two specters, and his eyes were wide in fear. "Hey if it's about the, umm... errr... items no hard feeligns right... eh? No need to exact vengeance on a poor rogue for dumping your corpse off to the side of the keep... huh?"

"Weeeeee are NOT the forms of those you saaaawww..." continued the ghosts. "We are victims of Niiirrreeek. He is going to claaaaiiiim a nexus of magic we discovered. If he does so, he will be unstoppppaaaabbbbllle. Yoooooouuuuu, Jamben, must stop him. The fate of the Western Plaaaaaiiiinnns, rests on you." With another crack, the apparitions vanished.

The Nurturers moved forward, Mechan and Echigus twisting in the air at the lead of the army. The 200 other dragon riders flew behind them, and the cavalry galloped on the ground, trying in vain to keep up. The ruined fortress was in sight now. Smoke was billing out of it. It wasn't on fire, though.

Maybe a campfire? Echigus telepatically said to Mechan.

Yep, it is. I think it could be our friend Uri, I feel his presence, don't you?

Yes, I do. But he is moving, he is not staying still in the fort. He might be leaving or coming to the fort.

Ok. Echigus, help me inform the Dragon Mages about this, and get them to inform the rest of the army. We need them on full alert.

The regiment of elven cavalry approached the gate of the Dark Lord's fortress.

The thief gave a relieved sigh as the ghosts disappeared, his body starting to calm down now that he was no longer visited by the spirits of the dead. Still, after a few moments passed he wondered if what he saw truly happened or, could it have been some nightmare brought on by the food he ate? Perhaps the sweet tasting food and drink had some kind of alcohol in it… The boy had never tasted ale nor wine, so he couldn’t really be sure. Still, he couldn’t really stay in the fort anymore… God damn it gave him the creeps now! So he started to make preparations to leave, first putting out the fire he had made and then gathering up the remainder of the food, drink, and any valuables that were left behind.

It was unfortunate that just as he was doing this the elven regiment was closing in on the fort, no doubt seeing the fire doused gave the indication that whoever was in the keep was planning to make a hasty leave…

As Celur and his men moved closer to their destination, one of the elven mages rode up along side Celur and spoke in a hushed voice.
"Sir, the other mages and I have been talking, and we have all noticed a sense of evil returning to the world."
Celur nodded. "I hoped I wasn't the only one. I think I might know the general direction that it is coming from, and I don't like it. Prepare to head for the Dark Lord's fortress, full speed."
The mage nodded. "Yes sir."
As the elves spurred their mounts to a gallop, Celur dreaded what they might find there.

Aldus woke with a start, he looked around his surrounding, then he realized where he was, the guest house of the local village. Most, if not all of his men had found a warm bosom to crawl up against for the night. Aldus gave himself no such pleasure, he was a man of substance, and as such tried to avoid such things as much as possible, it was difficult enough trying to re-assemble his fathers lost kingdom, but if he had the distraction of a family, well things would never get done.

Aldus went around the village gathering his men. When he found his second in command Grom asleep next to several women he said, "Grom, you old man! Wake up!"

Grom roused immediatly, rising up off the bed for a moment, showing his scarred torso, "Yes commander?"

"Old friend, I need you to ready the men, we are running low on supplies, and we need to make for Tirel."

The older knights face wrinkled as he said, "Of course commander, as you have ordered so shall it be."

"Thank you Grom."

Less than an hour later the Linebreakers were assembled outside the village, ready for the ride to Tirel. After the women had finished attempting to persuade the men to stay, Aldus gave the order to ride.

The Linebreakers moved quickly to Tirel, having made the trip many times in their formation. When they arrived outside the gates, he gave each man enough money to have his weapons and armor repaired, as well as an extra something to spend or save. Aldus moved through the crowds easily, most people hiding there faces in fear at a man in plate armor, Aldus pitied them, there king had taken a beautiful place and turned it into a hell. The people starved, the children wept, and everyday those who could not pay the tax were sold to slavers.

Aldus headed to his favorite smith in town, Jaurus.
Aldus clapped his old friend on the back after seeing him, "How are you my good friend?"

"Not bad," Jaurus replied, "At times like this it pays to be a smith."

Aldus chuckled and said, "Your telling me. Anyway, my men and I are in town and I was wondering if you had time to repair my armor, I have a rather nasty dent in the chest plates and it's starting to interfere with my breathing."

"Anything for you Sir Aldus."

"I told you Jaurus, we are friends, no need to call me Sir anything."

"Sorry Aldus," said Jaurus while barely containing a laughing fit, "Anyway I'll have your armor ready within the hour."

"Thanks Jaurus," said Aldus as he removed his armor, and left a small bag of coins on Jaurus' anvil.

Aldus felt very vunerable without his armor, Tirel was a town where almost anyone would put a dagger between your ribs for a bite to eat. But he didn't have time to worry about that. Aldus headed to the market where his local contact waited.

"You have my supplies?" Asked Aldus

"Of course I do, assuming you brought some coin of course."

Aldus frowned at the man and said, "Well I was hoping you'd put this on on you."

The Contact looked at Aldus like he was mad and then they both burst out laughing. Aldus then said, "You should have seen your face, yes I have your money," said Aldus, handing over a bag of money.

The man weighed it in his hand and said, "Alright, i'll have it sent to your camp outside the city as always."

Aldus bid the man farewell and walked around town, it was time for some charity work. He purchased several loaves of bread, a few wheels of cheese, and some chicken. He walked around the town giving food to those who needed it. When he reached the central plaza he decided to head for a tavern, it was time for a drink thought Aldus.

As he entered he was overwhelmed by the smell of stale beer. Aldus nearly gagged. He went straight to the barkeep and said, "Give me a pint of your best beer, none of this stale crap."

The Barkeep did as asked and said, "Seven Copper my good sir."

Aldus handed him the money and gratefully drank the drink. He noticed that almost all the patrons in the bar were guards, and they were all drunk. Then he heard a young woman say to a guard, "Stay away from me!" then she slapped him. The Guard said, "I've had enough of this, tonight your mine wench!"

Aldus considered his options, he could probably take a few guards, especially drunk ones, Oh Sod it all! thought Aldus as he stood up. "Excuse me sir," said Aldus to the Guard, "I couldn't help but notice, but did you call that lovely girl a wench? That is terrible manners."

The Guard looked at him with an evil look in his eye, "Stay outta this pretty boy."

Aldus took a step closer to the man, "Well if you ask me, she certainly doesn't want you, if you ask me that would be rape, and someone in this tavern could theortically report to your superiors of your crimes."

The Guard threw the girl to the side and yelled, "That's the last straw." And threw a punch at Aldus, luckily he was ready for it, grabbed the mans fist and threw him into a nearby table, he looked at the girl and whispered, "Run!"

The guard's friends came at him as well, Aldus managed to stay out of there reach as they tried to grab him. He then grabbed a guard, brought the Guard's arm behind his back, then threw him into a nearby drunk. The Drunk got up and started fighting the Guard who was thrown into him. Aldus smiled, he had just started a tavern brawl, now all he had to do was stay out of everyones way and get out of the town.

OOC: Romulan Republic I'm gonna leave it at that incase you want your guy to be in this :p

Uri froze in his tracks just before the fortress. He stayed inhumanly still, feeling through the air for any trace of magic. Could his enemies be approaching? Or could his newly renewed powers be faulty? In a split second he made the decision. He needed to get inside that fortress. If there was anyway of magically contacting his loyal followers, this would be the strongest place to try. But that uneasy presence of the enemy still rung through the air.

The Dark Lord allowed a sinister smile to creep across his face. He would walk into the fortress in disguise. Thus, he could contact his followers while avoiding being detected. The only possible problem was the possibility that one of his enemies could feel him out. True, his powers to disguise somewhat altered his magic emittance. But still, there was a small chance that the thought would cross their minds...

It didn't matter. This idea was the best that he could come up with. For a second, the Dark Lord stood still considering who to transform into. Then he whispered the spell and felt his body twist and pull in every direction. As quickly as it had come, the odd burning twisting sensation melted away. If someone had been standing nearby, they would have no idea that the man in the black cloak was the Dark Lord. Instead, they would simply consider it odd that Father Enki Odin was standing at the Dark Lord's ruins.

The Dark Lord smiled under the appearance of the Wise Friar and continued into his fortress...

Tailon pushed his way into the crowded tavern. It was only another ten minutes to curfew, and guards would be punished for violations like anyone else, but several were still going at it. He managed to slip through the crowd and reach the bar, where he ordered some bread and a pint of beer. He looked around, trying to keep from dropping his supper as a pair of rowdy guards jostled him. One of the guards took a clumsy swing at him as he headed towards a table.

"Watch it outlander."

Tailor kept his head down and mumbled an apology as he made his way to a table occupied only by a single morose looking drunk. The man seemed too wrapped up in his own troubles to strike up a conversation, and too drunk to remember any faces, which suited Tailor fine. Keeping his head down, he began to sip at his tankard.

It had been hard at first for him to enter a tavern full of fellow soldiers, any of whom might recognize him. But few others had money to spend in bars, and he had eventually learned to keep his head down and just blend in, after his nervous edginess drew looks and, once, an insult. At any rate, no one he had seen looked too familiar, and he was good at recalling faces.

He tried not to wolf the bread down. He was hungry, and tired, but his money was going quicker than expected. The war and its aftermath had driven prices to several times what they had been even a year before. He thought guiltily that he would have to steal again before long, unless he was going to settle down and find work. But he knew little of any craft besides farming and fighting. Their was little farm work within the walls, and the thought of joining a brigand's band made him feel sick. So, he ate sparringly, and hoped his little remaining coin would last another day or two at least. He had already searched nearly half the markets, and if anyone had been brought here, they would soon be sold in any case. If they weren't already. He felt sick. Maybe he had caught the plauge. He almost laughed at the thought. The truth was, he was afraid. Of what he would do if he didn't find anyone, or if he did. Most slavers branded their "property" visibly to prevent an escape. A mass escape would likely be impossible without a large army. And if he found no one, or if somehow they got away, what then? He wasn't sure what to do, where to go. They wouldn't be safe in Tailon, and the human lands beyond its borders were little better. He had no money to start a new life, for himself never mind anyone else. He needed to get outside and clear his head, but it was almost curfew.

He glanced up as he heard a woman's indignant voice, to see a guard grab her by the arm and pull her towards him. Instinctively he tensed, ready to move, though he stopped at the thought of inevitable detection. Instead, he got up slowly, hoping to follow the guard and his victim away from the rest of the soldiers. He paused his eye caught a movement to the left; another man getting to his feet. He stepped back to the edge of the room, watching.

The man seemed almost casual as he adressed the guard. Arrogant, thought Tailor, and soon dead. The smart choice was to leave now. But their was something about this man...

The guard took a swing at him, and the man not only blocked it, but easily tossed the guard to the floor. The girl fled the room as the rest of the guards closed in. One of them went flying into the drunk at his table, and the man, shaken suddenly out of his stupor, went barraling in fist flying. Suddenly a fist came out of nowhere, striking him in the chin. A second later, he was slammed against the wall. Tailor tried to clear his head, as the guard prepaired to take another swing at his head. He ducked, and the guard's druken blow hit the wall behind him with a crack and a groan. The guard yelled in pain as he clutched his hand, then Tailor shoved him away and, before he could recover, kicked him in the groin. The guard fell, and Tailor swung around, catching sight of the first attacker, as half of the room rushed at him. More than one had a sword in hand.

"Oh what the f##k." He lunged forward, grabbing one of the guards from behind, twisting him around, and delivering a solid punch to the face. Another guard swung around, swinging his sword at Tailor's head. Tailor ducked, throwing his full weight into the guard. He stumbled and fell to the floor, twisting frantically and reaching for his own sword, but the guard was now fighting one of his own compatriots, blood streaming down the other man's face. He looked around but caught no sight of the second man. He was about to get up when a foot came out of nowhere and kicked him in the side. Before he could recover, the attacker kicked him in the face. He blacked out for a moment, and when he woke up the attacker, a grizzled old soldier with a scar slashing across his face and a knife in his hand, was grabbing him by the throat. He tried to get up, but he was stuck in the corner and the guard pinned him easily. With no room to draw his sword, he looked around frantically for a weapon but saw nothing within reach.

"Oh F##k."

Aldus saw a guard holding a young looking man by his throat, a dagger in his hand the Guard was going to kill the man, Aldus shouted, "No lives will be lost this day!" and he channeled all of his magic strength, and cast a spell of telekinesis which sent the dagger in the guards hand flying across the room and firmly into a wall. The Guard looked confused as the dagger flew out of his hands, seemingly by magic. Aldus took this as his time to strike, he rushed at the guard and leapt into a flying tackle, laying the guard out and freeing the other man. The Guard struggled to get on top of him, but Aldus was quicker, he managed to punch the guard in the face and stand up. The Guard struggled to get to his feet when Aldus said, "Always face your opponents with honor you worthless cur." Aldus then spat in the Guards face and punched him square in the face. The Guard dropped like a sack of bricks and was unconcious before he hit the floor. "Good night." said Aldus.

Aldus then turned to the man and said, "I'd introduce myself but I think we should get the hell out of here!"

Tailor felt a surge of fear as the guard raised his knife. He thought of his father, watching. Knowing that his son had failed.

Suddenly the knife flew out of the guard's hands. A second later he tumbled to the floor, grappling with the man who had started the brawl. It took a couple of seconds for Tailor to recover, and by the time he scrambled to his feet and looked around, the guard was unconcious on the floor. Tailor turned to the unknown man.

"I agree." He drew his sword, slashing at the air to keep the rest of the guards back. Several still stood between them and the door.

"Out the window, or fight our way to the door?"

He saw fresh guards sprinting through the doors to come and stop the fight, and these men were sober. "Window!" Shouted Aldus. He sprinted for the nearest window, cast a gust spell that blew out the window, and he dove through it, landing in a summersault. "Come on!" Shouted Aldus to the man, Sprinting to the smithy of Jaurus, he asked Jaurus, "Where is my armor, I have to go now!"

Jaurus saw the look in his old friends eye and asked, "Damsel in distress?"
Aldus merely nodded as he took his armor from his friend and donned it. He looked at the man and said, "Ok if we can get outside the city we can meet up with my men, from there we can lay low. You with me?"

Nirek, armed with the knowledge of the nexus, personally led a column of his elite unicorn-riders towards the nexus. If he could reach that nexus, and harness his power, he would be unstoppable. Along the way, they picked up Kiolae, who informed Nirek of Zaras' treachery. "Pathetic," was Nirek's only response. They rode onward, now only a day's ride from the nexus. The power there was said to be five times that of the nexus at the Dark Lord's keep. Kiolae's knowledge of the Dark Lord's whereabouts was crucial. After Nirek had absorbed the new power, he could operate without fear of the Dark Lord. Or he could join him. Or kill him. Or both. It was decision he would have to think about later.

Tailor saw the window shatter. He feignted a lunge at the guards, then spun and dove through the window, landing somewhat more awkwardly and scraping his knees and hands. He saw guards running towards them from several sides. Scrambling to his feet, he turned and dashed after the stranger. After a short time, they stopped outside a blacksmith's where the smith handed the stranger some armor. Tailor glanced up suspiciously at the stranger's offer.

"What do you mean, your men? How many of you are their? Are you a mercenary?" He tried to keep the contempt out of his voice. He suspected the man could kill him before his hand even reached his sword.

Aldus sighed, "I suppose you should know what's going on. My name is Sir Aldus Laurent, leader of Laurent's Linebreakers, perhaps you've heard of us or perhaps not, I am a Knight of Oblivion and Heir to her throne, however my kingdom fell before I became her king. I am a mercenary only so that I may one day see my father's kingdom become whole once more. Now as for my men outside these walls there are twenty nine knights. Men like me who can use magic, these men have seen some of the greatest conflicts the continent has ever known. I mean you to harm, but if you truely wish to be safe for the time being I suggest you come with me to my camp. So are you with me?"

Tailor was surprised, but it gave way quickly to disbelief. This man, a king, and one so widely known as the heir of so valient a land as Oblivion, who was known across the land for his deeds in the war? More likely just a brigand. And yet, he had risked his life to save two innocent people from harm. Indeed, Tailor reflected with shame, this man had shown greater courage than he himself had. And it was not so impossible. Many kingdoms had fallen into dissarray. Perhaps his story was true. But he couldn't leave. Not now. Not until he had finished his search.

"I suppose I should thank you for saving my life. And for your offer, whoever you are. But I cannot accept." A thought occurred to him. Surely the man would refuse, but it couldn't hurt to try. Probably.

"I am sorry to here that Oblivion has fallen to the same treachery and anarchy as my own realm. Your people earned great respect here for their deeds during the war.

I served in the army during the war. A week ago, I went home to a village outside the city. I... I found it burned to the ground. My family and most of the inhabitants had been butchured, but some were missing. I came here hoping to find them, and free them if they had been sold as slaves. I cannot abandon this, not while I live, but if their is any way you can help me, I will pay you whatever I can afford."

The Dark Lord hobbled into what was formerly his throne room. His magical senses were going haywire. This was certainly the place to try and contact his followers. But who would be loyal? And who can be trusted? But the Dark Lord couldn't worry about that right now. Instead, he was concerned with the man standing in the middle of the room next to an extinguished fire as if about to take flight. The Dark Lord hunched in the moonlight. "To whom do I owe this pleasure?" he asked in raspy voice of the Wise Friar.

The fire was out, his found goods stashed in his pack and left the tattered remnants of his old equipment on the floor. He was set, ready, and eager to get out of the place when… as luck would have it, he heard yet another creepy voice from behind him. “Oh for nature’s sake! I’m going you creepy ghost! Couldn’t you have given me more information though? I mean, REALLY, Nirek and Magic Nexus don’t give me much room to go… on…” the human teen looked quite embarrassed as he finally turned around to look at the friar, which in his opinion was just as bad, if not worse, than being visited by the spirits of the dead.

“Oh, umm… hey… what’s a good spirited scholar with a ruler most likely shoved up your arse doing out here?” he asked with a soft chuckle in his voice, but the unease in his voice was obvious through his false humor, perhaps adding to how his bright blue eyes just looked around for an escape from the creepy old man. “Anyway… My name? People call me Jamben…”

There was one other, rather unusual thing about the young teen. Despite being dressed like an adventurer, armed like a fighter with the double sword sheathed along his back, it was obvious that clinging to his form was the taste of natural magic. Whoever this person was, he was obviously much more than just a young human male, perhaps a druid or some creature disguised as a human?

Aldus looked into the man's eyes, "Tis a noble quest, A quest I believe would be fitting with the assistance of a knight. You have my oath as a Knight and as the heir to the throne of the lost kingdom of Oblivion, that as long as I shall breathe I will help you rescue those that have been lost to you. But they will be looking for us both I think, we have two choices: one we find a safe place to hide out in the city, or we sneak outside, meet up with my company and we begin searching tomorrow. Either way you have my full assistance young... I'm sorry I suppose I never caught your name."

"Hm. Jamben. What brings you to this broken ruin?" The Dark Lord hobbled closer.

The Dark Lord's Ruined Keep

The small party of 5 entered the ruins. On their approach, they had spotted a fire, but that had gone out. Through the darkness, their keen eyes spotted much smoke rising from where it had been. They made for that, hoping that someone would be there. The soon picked their way through the ruins, to a room. Standing in the room, were two humans. One was but a boy, the other, older, and more dignified. Sha'ta, the leader of the expedition, was the first to enter the room, alone. His silver armor shown in the moonlight, as did his pale, gray face, and silver hair. His red eyes danced like hot coals, as he approached the two men. He was unsure of what was happening. The young one had a sword. Sha'ta's left hand immediately shot to his own blade, his hand resting on the ornate silver hilt of the sword. "Is there any trouble?" he asked, in a inquisitive voice. It may not have been apparent, but his eyes remained fixed on the boy, as he was sure if there were any, it would be coming from him.

“Well, I got lost in the tundra to the north some time ago and, by my keen eye and great skills at manipulating fortune, managed to find a path through the mountains that came out not to far north of here. I saw some structure on the horizon and made for it hoping to find shelter,” the young boy stated, although he was clearly uncomfortable being interrogated by a man of faith. It was much more than just the type of guilt such men seemed to bestow on those in the profession of fortune, but rather an almost phobia towards such men of god. “And when I got here there was some… errr… left overs, from a pair of mages who camped here!” he of course, failed to left out the fact that there was a charred corpse left over which he so unceremoniously rolled down the sides of the fortress.

Then he was so rudely interrupted by someone else, and he cursed the fact that he hadn’t made off faster before being caught by the friar, now he had the old man and some unknown force in the darkness! He pondered bending the natural magics to his will, transforming into his half-man form so that he could utilize his eyes to pierce the darkness and see what he was fighting, but he realized his best bet was to appear as nothing more than a young traveler. “Aye! Everything is fine, no trouble here!” he said hastily to the mysterious voice with those weird, red eyes. “I just made camp here after a trek through the mountains and was going to make my way to a proper village. I prefer to travel via night you see, without the sun on my back, as well as making myself less visible to bandits and brigands that wander these fields nowadays. You understand… right?”

Aldus looked into the man's eyes, "Tis a noble quest, A quest I believe would be fitting with the assistance of a knight. You have my oath as a Knight and as the heir to the throne of the lost kingdom of Oblivion, that as long as I shall breathe I will help you rescue those that have been lost to you. But they will be looking for us both I think, we have two choices: one we find a safe place to hide out in the city, or we sneak outside, meet up with my company and we begin searching tomorrow. Either way you have my full assistance young... I'm sorry I suppose I never caught your name."

The man's immediate acceptance raised his suspicions again, for in his experience their was no obvious reason why this man would accept. But he could hardly back out now.

"My name is Tailon. Leave or stay, its up to you."

"Well Tailon, if we link up with my men we could split up our search tomorrow, however, anyone left could still be sold in a private auction right? I think our best bet is to continue searching tonight." Said Aldus, "Actually, I have a friend who might know where anyone from your village could be kept. But you have to trust me ok?"

Sha'ta took a step forward, into the moonlight. His silver armor shown brightly, as did his silver hair. His normally pale gray skin appeared even paler in the moonlight. "No," replied Sha'ta, "I do not understand. What is your name boy?" He looked at the cloths the boy wore, and then at the gear he had. They were quite different. His clothes, were old, and tiered, however his gear was new and clean. On the floor, sat gear that looked like it would fit better with him, than what he had on his back. Sha'ta's grip on his sword tightened. "What about you, sir?" he asked, looking at the older man. "Do you have anything to say?" He was concerned, the boy and the old man were a good distance from him. The boy would be more than capable of grabbing the old man at sword point, before Sha'ta was halfway to him. So, every few moments, he would take a step closer, closing the gap on the two.

Meanwhile, the two merchants, and the diplomat, hid been hind a nearby wall, while the other soldier, circled around, to another entrance. He already had his sword drawn, and ready, should things turn.

"Surround the fortress! I don't want anyone getting in or out unless we know who they are!" Mechan was almost overwhelmed by the near prescence of the Dark Lord. But not even a disguise could fool the Great Nurturer...

The Dark Lord smiled kindly at Sha'ta. "Not at all, sir. I simply came to visit this site to meditate and pray about the war that just passed and all of the soldiers who had fallen when I ran into this young man here. It seems as if this has been his camp for some time. May I inquire as to your identity, kind sir?"

As for the boy, the Dark Lord wasn't sure what to make of him. He didn't quite believe the story that he wandered into his old fortress. Something was odd about the boy. He had a secret to hide. Was he hiding something? someone? Could he see through the Wise Friar disguise? Or could there be a trace of magic in the teen? And what should he make of the new arriver? He needed more time to feel through the magic powers present.

"Well Tailon, if we link up with my men we could split up our search tomorrow, however, anyone left could still be sold in a private auction right? I think our best bet is to continue searching tonight." Said Aldus, "Actually, I have a friend who might know where anyone from your village could be kept. But you have to trust me ok?"

"Very well. Let's meet this friend."

"Very well. Let's meet this friend."

Aldus smiled and said, "Alright then, follow me!" Aldus began to walk towards the slums of Tirel, when they entered the slums he looked for a ruined house with a glyph etched into what was left of the door. Aldus pushed the door, and it creaked open. He began feeling around the floor until he found a latch. He heaved with all his might, and a trapdoor opened up in the floor. Aldus hopped down it and followed the corridor all the way down to the end. He knocked on the door and a voice uttered, "Password?"

Aldus Replied, "Croissant."

"Who's the boy?" asked the voice.

"A kid on a quest he is, I'm here to help him but I need to see Ramun, can you let us in?"

"Sure." Said the voice, Aldus heard the lock of the door slide open, and then the door slid back to reveal a rather large man, armed to the teeth. "Thanks Ra," said Aldus Casually.

The man named Ra nodded as he watched Aldus and Tailon walk by, Aldus walked down a corridor, taking several turns, until he came to a rather plain looking red door. Aldus turned to Tailon and said, "Alright, this man is a very powerful man, that being said, please do not speak unless he gives you permission, alright?"

Jamben gave a soft sigh as the friar backed up his story, or at least didn’t condemn him to trying to escape from a guy with a pointy sword. Otherwise though, he had no skill with magic, other than the ability that allowed him to shift his shape. True his race could become quite powerful elementalists if they studied, but Jamben’s eyes and paws lead him to the path of a thief rather than scholar - although he was always curious about the arcane arts. On that note, even if he could see through the friar’s disguise, he was to young to even know what the Dark Lord looked like, to him the war was ancient history.

“So ya see? Nothing here but a traveler seeking refuge in an old fortress… No need for the sharp pointy things, eh?”

Colonel McDonald magically amplified his voice. "Anyone in the fortress, come out with your hands out and weapons on the ground! Prepare to have your minds inspected!"

As the sun was high in the sky, Nirek and his party of unicorn riders reached the nexus. The area was pristine: pine trees and bushes on either side of a river, fed by a waterfall. Nirek saw none of this beauty. "Spread out," he ordered his troops. They took up guard positions on either side of the river. Nirek entered the cave. He sat in a standard meditation stance, and began probing the flux. He could feel the power in this place. He latched on to it, and began to siphon it, to make the power his own. The raw power surged through his body. He felt stronger and stronger by the second.

"On second thought," Uri said with a sly smile, "I'm wondering how in the world this boy didn't know that the Dark Lord's fortress was here. After all, the war wasn't that long ago. Could the boy be hoping for a comeback? He probably just showed up here hoping to gain the Dark Lord's old power." Before anyone could reply, he heard a magically amplified voice making the demand that they vacate the fortress. But he had no intention of leaving. "I'm sorry, fellows. Now that the Dark Lord has been defeated, does someone else own this keep and therefore own the right to order that we vacate the area?"

At last, Nirek's body felt as though it couldn't hold anymore. He got up, and walked out of the cavern. He told his troops to stay in guard positions, then took a walk a short distance into the forest. He stood in a clearing, and began to channel his new found power. He felt it gathering, then, with a primal roar, he released it. The pillar of blood red flame destroyed a swath of the forest, and could be seen from some distance. (Not at the keep, though). As he returned, his troops inquired of the source of the burst. "Nothing, men," said Nirek, feeling the magic coursing through him. "Just testing the works." The party of unicorn riders mounted up and galloped away, back towards Nirek's fortress at Mount Karnak. In Nirek's mind, plans for future conquests were already forming.

Colonel McDonald was irate at this comeback. "You will come out this instant, or we will have dragonfire burn you all to a crisp! Come out with your hands up and prepare to be searched!"

Uri continued smiling as if they were discussing the perfect spot for an afternoon picnic. "Why in the world would you burn an old friar? Who are you?"

"We are the Dragon Nurturers," interrupted Mechan. "We must inspect the minds of all people in the vicinity, for reasons I cannot tell you. Come out or you will be burned!"

Uri smiled wider as if having a pleseant discussion as opposed to a standoff at his ruins. "Dragon Nurturers? Magnificent creatures, they are. Quite unique. Quite magical. Rightly so, you're devoted to nurturing and caring for your dragons. So if dragons deserve as much loyalty, respect, and care as you provide for them, do you not believe that human beings deserve even more respect, at least the freedom of thought?"

"Dragons are deserve much more respect than you human filth!" yelled Colonel McDonald. "Now get out of there now! You have 10 seconds!" The 200 Dragon riders flew into the air.

10...

9....

8...

Celur and his Ranger's rode up to a glorious scene. A fortress surrounded by hundreds of dragons was not something that most got to see. However, Celur could sense the evil permeating the air, and he could sense the tension. It wasn't long before someone snapped.

Tailon tried not to let his concerns show. He was wondering again if he had made a mistake to follow this strange warrior, especially if his friend was really so dangerous. He closed his eyes and murmured a brief prayer for his safety, and the success of his quest. It did not escape him that he had almost died in the tavern, and that if he had, it would have meant that he had failed his duty and his parents. He prayed fervently that he had not escaped then only to meet his end here, now. Without thinking, he reached into his pocket and grasped the small blue gemstone that the dying mage Gelt had given to him. To his surprise, it felt warm. He quickly let it go. He remembered now what he had been pondering when the fight broke out. This stone. Perhaps it could offer him some help. Either way, he had to find out what it was, and he thought he knew where he could ask. If he ever got out of here alive.

The Dark Lord weighed his options. He would need to stay under the radar as long as he could. He calmly strided through his fortress and out to the broken stone steps in fron of the fortress.

"I am here. Now, what do you want with an old friar?" Uri poised himself. If the moment came that he needed to escape, he was now magically reengergized enough successful teleport. He had bought enough time in his old fortress. But would he need to?

After the friar ran out of the ruins, Sha'ta turned to the boy, "If you want to see the sun rise tomorrow, I suggest you come with me, boy," he said, as the other soldier ran by the two, towards the merchants, and diplomat. Sha'ta, waited to see the boys response.

Tailor tried not to let his concerns show. He was wondering again if he had made a mistake to follow this strange warrior, especially if his friend was really so dangerous. He closed his eyes and murmured a brief prayer for his safety, and the success of his quest. It did not escape him that he had almost died in the tavern, and that if he had, it would have meant that he had failed his duty and his parents. He prayed fervently that he had not escaped then only to meet his end here, now. Without thinking, he reached into his pocket and grasped the small blue gemstone that the dying mage Gelt had given to him. To his surprise, it felt warm. He quickly let it go. He remembered now what he had been pondering when the fight broke out. This stone. Perhaps it could offer him some help. Either way, he had to find out what it was, and he thought he knew where he could ask. If he ever got out of here alive.

Aldus took Tailon's silence as a yes. Aldus knocked on the door, and a soft voice asked, "Who is it?"

"A man you owe a favor to!" came Aldus' response.

"Aldus Laurent? Is that you? For god's sake, come in!" came the voice again. Aldus smiled and opened the door for himself and Tailon.

"Ramun old friend! How have you been?" Asked Aldus

"Well my business has become more difficult in recent months, but I'll survive. Say who's that there with you? An "Indentured" Servant? Aldus I thought you were a man of conscience." Said Ramun.

"No Ramun, you know I have no servants, only those who wish to follow, do I lead. He is the reason I need a favor Ramun."

"And what exactly would that be?" asked Ramun.

"Well the boy's village was raided not long ago, we believe that the survivors were taken as slaves."

"Then go to the market and purchase them!" Said Ramun impatiently

"That's where it got difficult, you see I think that they are in one of the compounds for private auctions, stout peaseants are quite a commodity it would see. That being said we need to see the slave manifests." said Aldus.

"What makes you think I have them?" asked Ramun Coyly

"Ramun, you have your hands on some of the most underground trade in all of Tirel, your trade with the elves and dwarves is the only reason the citizens haven't died yet, and I know you are given a copy of the manifests every slave shipment."

"And why do you think that?" asked the merchant man.

"Because you trade slaves yourself, luckily for you, you only trade those who have done wrong to others in this world, like those bandit filth."

"Alright Aldus you got me, no need to tell your little guest of my seedier trade. The Manifests are on the shelf to the left, I'll leave and give you two time to look through them."

"Thanks Ramun," Said Aldus, "But I was wondering, do you still operate your smugglers tunnel through the sewers?"

"Yes I do, why do you.... Aldus not another breakout, it took me weeks to cover up your last one." Ramun complained

"This time I'll make it worth your while, my Enchanter Archane, has finished a set of alchemy scrolls, we will send those your way once we are safely outside the city."

"Deal," Said Ramun, "This time try not to be too grand about your escape."

"No Promises old friend." said Aldus as Ramun left the room. Aldus then grabbed the slave manifest, opened it and pointed out the compounds where the private auctions took part. "Alright the Private auctions take place in these three compounds, they always keep peasents from the same village in the same compound, so just look for names you recognize and we will break em out."

Tailon stood quietly watching until Ramun left the room, then turned to Aldus.

"How could you ally with a slaver? Perhaps you are not as honorable as I thought." He stopped himself before he said any more. He still needed this man's help, for now.

"Nonetheless I owe you thanks. If I may read the manifests?" His heart beating faster, forcing himself to read each line slowly and carefully, he scanned the pages. More than once he read too quickly in his eagerness, had to stop and reread a line or two. Slowly his excitement waned. He finished the first scroll and began the second. He completed the second and began the third. Increasingly he struggled to resist his growing despair, his fear that in the end he would find nothing. He was nearing the middle of the third list when he saw it. He almost missed it, but at the last moment, he saw the name. He stopped, starring, a sudden exhilleration flooding through him.

Forcing himself to stay calm, he continued to scan the scroll. Another name, and another. After a few more seconds, he put the scroll aside. He turned to Aldus, unable to keep from smiling as for the first time since before Tirel fell he felt-suddenly, overwelmingly-happy.

"I found them. Five names." It was only then that he realized the implications of what he had said. So caught up was he in the exhileration of finding anyone still alive that he had forgotten those he had not. He bowed his head for a moment in silent contrition and rememberance, but their was no time to delay.

"Forgive me. I had hoped that more of my people had survived. I will still keep hope that they may be alive, but for now, I have a duty to preform. They are too be sold tomorrow at noon, so unless you have the forces to storm Tirel port, they must be freed tonight. May I ask for your help one more time, your highness? But first, I would like to search the remaining public auctions as well, if you're friend can provide the lists. It is unlikely they will be there I know, but I must see for myself."

"Prepare to have your minds inspected!" 10 dragon mages landed, and walked to the people at the front gate.

"Do not resist it, or we will force our way into your mind."

The young thief swallowed, hard. Not only was his conscience greeted by two spirits, a friar, and a noble warrior, but now someone wanting to probe his mind of all his secrets? Could he not get a break? Or was this his karmic payback from robbing the dead mage of his valuables? It couldn’t be that could it, he had stolen from hundreds and yet one person was going to condemn him to whatever fate these dragon riders had for thieves? Well, he was still confined by the men with the pointy sticks, which meant shifting into a feral form and sneaking out as some creature of the wilderness was out of the question (then again, wouldn’t dragons be able to sniff out the nature magic that clung to any form he was in?)

Which only left the option of trying to deceive a telepath, hard but not impossible. As he walked over to the soldier, in an act that put him under the knight’s protection (at least, that’s what he thought from the few times he read the code of chivalry), he mumbled under his breath, “I am but a simple adventurer… I am but a simple adventurer…”

He repeated the mantra again and again as he was no doubt escorted out to meet the dragon riders, meanwhile his mind raced to push various memories out of his surface thoughts and to bring up simple, innocent ones in their wake. He clung to the memories of getting lost in the tundra, of giving most of his food and supplies to those poor farmers, anything that made him look like an innocent adventurer rather than a nimble thief, and always that mantra under his breath, just shallow enough not to be understood…

Tailon stood quietly watching until Ramun left the room, then turned to Aldus.

"How could you ally with a slaver? Perhaps you are not as honorable as I thought." He stopped himself before he said any more. He still needed this man's help, for now.

"Nonetheless I owe you thanks. If I may read the manifests?" His heart beating faster, forcing himself to read each line slowly and carefully, he scanned the pages. More than once he read too quickly in his eagerness, had to stop and reread a line or two. Slowly his excitement waned. He finished the first scroll and began the second. He completed the second and began the third. Increasingly he struggled to resist his growing despair, his fear that in the end he would find nothing. He was nearing the middle of the third list when he saw it. He almost missed it, but at the last moment, he saw the name. He stopped, starring, a sudden exhilleration flooding through him.

Forcing himself to stay calm, he continued to scan the scroll. Another name, and another. After a few more seconds, he put the scroll aside. He turned to Aldus, unable to keep from smiling as for the first time since before Tirel fell he felt-suddenly, overwelmingly-happy.

"I found them. Five names." It was only then that he realized the implications of what he had said. So caught up was he in the exhileration of finding anyone still alive that he had forgotten those he had not. He bowed his head for a moment in silent contrition and rememberance, but their was no time to delay.

"Forgive me. I had hoped that more of my people had survived. I will still keep hope that they may be alive, but for now, I have a duty to preform. They are too be sold tomorrow at noon, so unless you have the forces to storm Tirel port, they must be freed tonight. May I ask for your help one more time, your highness? But first, I would like to search the remaining public auctions as well, if you're friend can provide the lists. It is unlikely they will be there I know, but I must see for myself."

"The Public Manifests are right here," Said Aldus taking down a much larger tome. "And as for Ramun, he is not a slaver, he is a black market merchant. Ever wonder how Tirel still has food during this famine? Ramun trades with the elves and dwarves, bringing in much needed food and supplies for the ailing citizens. He only enslaves bastards like those bandits, although I hardly agree with it, the point is we need him."

Aldus sat and pondered for a moment, "And yes Tailon, I will help free your people, they are innocent of any crime and as such should not be bound for a fate such as this. We will get them out of here alive, that I swear."

Ragal, a dragon mage, plunged into the mind of the young man. There was the initial resistance that happened whenever you invaded someone's mind that knew what was happening. The memories of the kid were faint, it was as if he was hiding something:

Getting lost in the tundra, giving most of his food and supplies to those poor farmers, the kid was clean. Ragal didn't trust him, but what harm could a young man do in the big bad world?

The Dark Lord watched as the young boy passed the inspection. Perhaps he had over estimated him. Perhaps he was indeed just an adventurer who had stumbled across the old ruins. Or perhaps he had under estimated him. Perhaps he had enough magical experience to confuse the dragon mage.

Not a bad idea. Uri decided to go a step farther though. Someone who wanted to slip under the radar may focus on false memories. No. The Dark Lord wanted to teach the dragon mage a lesson. When the mage searched his mind, he would see absolutely nothing whatsoever. A blank mind. That should be some food for thought.

Sha'ta walked up, next to the boy, and awaited inspection. His plan was simple. When the stranger attempted to probe his mind, he would have no trouble. Sha'ta would not resist in anyway. No, Sha'ta would help. He would flood his mind with each and every trivial fact and memory he could remember, stubbing his two two weeks ago on his bed post, getting his first shovel, his courtship of his wife, the birthing of his 5 children. All would be inconsequential to these people, but had deep meaning to him, which would better allow him to focus on them, and cover up why he was there, and the fact that others were with him.

Meanwhile, the others hid within the ruins.

Tailon shrugged.

"Whatever your friend's business, I suppose I owe him for these lists." He opened the book of public auctions, and began the long, dull task of searching every line. It was nearly dawn when he had finished. With a sign, he closed the book and put it back on the shelf.

"Nothing else. If the others are anywhere they aren't on these lists. Very well, lead the way."

"You owe him nothing, he owed me for saving his life during the siege of Tirel, so we can call it even now. Since you found them in the third manifest, that means we must search the third compound. Let us hurry before day breaks and we get discovered to easily." Said Aldus as he gathered his belongings.

Aldus left the room and headed back out the way he came, the rising sun somewhat irritating his eyes. Once they were out he took off towards the thrid compound. Once they arrived at the gates, Aldus saw two guards, one asleep, one not so much. He walked up to the concious guard and whispered a few words. Casting a spell of persuasion on the guard. "hello my good fellow," Said Aldus, "Mind letting the door open for us?"

"What's your business here?"

"I'm here to check out the new stock, mind letting us in?"

"I suppose I trust you, I'll open it right up," Said the Guard, as he pulled a lever to open the gate.

"Thanks pal," Said Aldus as he walked through the gate. When he entered he threw on his hood and continued to the slave cages. The people there looked very malnourished, and almost dead with fear and stress, "Alright Tailon, find those you know and lets get out of here before I become overwhelmed with guilt and try to free them all."

Ragal went through the other 2 people's minds. They also seemed clean, but one also seemed cloudy. Not suprisingly, it was the troublesome friar. His memories were nonexistant! Something was wrong with him...

Mechan searched the area for any other live beings in the immediate area with his mind. He found some. They were in the ruins, of course.

He amplified his voice. "We know there are more people in there! Come out or suffer the consequences!"

Tailon was about to draw his sword when he saw Aldus walk up and address the guard. To his surprise, the guard immediately opened the gate. This knight's magical abilities obviously extended beyond breaking windows.

Inside, people were jammed into rows of small, crowded cages. He could see little in the dark, but the smell was almost enough to make him turn away. As he drew closer, he saw that most of the people in the cages were sleeping fitfully, but a few were awake, watching him with fear. Their faces were thing and ragged, often bearing marks of physical violence. Like Aldus, he felt guilt at the thought of leaving anyone behind, but he feared that to free the whole compound would make escape almost impossible. As he searched the cages, he felt his anger growing at the thought that his people had been subjected to this, that all across the city people were being subjected to this. And their was nothing he could do. He froze as a soft voice called out to him.

"Tailon, is that really you?" He turned, walking slowly towards the cage. As he drew nearer, he noticed the first hint of light in the eastern sky. He could make out the face of an old man sitting in one of the cages. Derrik, the village shoemaker. His coat was dirty and tattered, a swollen cut ran across his face. Tailon knelt by the cage, peering in between the bars. Inside, he could see five others, still asleep, including two of the villagers: a middle aged woman who had been the miller's wife, and her son, barely five. As they awoke, he held a finger to his lips, then turned to Derrik.

"Where are the others, Derrik?"

"Their are two more, over their in that cage." The old man pointed. Tailon got up and hurried over to the other cage. Inside were a young man and woman, the miller's son and his betrothed. She scrambled to her knees as he approached, but he barely moved. Their was an ugly gash on his head, clearly infected.

"I've come to get you out. Can he move?"

She shook her head.

"He was hurt trying to defend us when... when they came. He's been getting worse all weak. He won't... he won't last much longer." Her voice broke completely.

Nodding, Tailon turned to Aldus.

"How far to these tunnels of your's, Aldus? Could he be carried that far?" Either way, they had to leave soon. The Sun was rising.

OOC: Clarify previous post, RR?

The Dark Lord's smile became rather fixed. There were more people in his fortress? Who were they and why were they trying to gather his lost power?

OOC: Clarify previous post, RR?

(OOC:My character is trying to break out the survivors from his village, who are held as slaves).

Ragal went through the other 2 people's minds. They also seemed clean, but one also seemed cloudy. Not suprisingly, it was the troublesome friar. His memories were nonexistant! Something was wrong with him...

Mechan searched the area for any other live beings in the immediate area with his mind. He found some. They were in the ruins, of course.

He amplified his voice. "We know there are more people in there! Come out or suffer the consequences!"

ooc: Your aren't talking about my people, are you?

OOC: No he's talking about the five other men already inside

Celur and his Rangers rode up to a strange scene. Two figures stood before several dragon mages, one of whom was calling into the ruins beyond them. Celur rode up to the small crowd and waited.

(OOC: bump)

Nirek and his subordinates poured over a map of the region. The Legion of the Fallen control half of the Western Plains. With Nirek's new found power, that was going to increase a lot. Nirek ordered his subordinates to march forward, to move to control all of the Western Plains. After that, Tirel would fall. Then no one could challenge him.

Tailon was about to draw his sword when he saw Aldus walk up and address the guard. To his surprise, the guard immediately opened the gate. This knight's magical abilities obviously extended beyond breaking windows.

Inside, people were jammed into rows of small, crowded cages. He could see little in the dark, but the smell was almost enough to make him turn away. As he drew closer, he saw that most of the people in the cages were sleeping fitfully, but a few were awake, watching him with fear. Their faces were thing and ragged, often bearing marks of physical violence. Like Aldus, he felt guilt at the thought of leaving anyone behind, but he feared that to free the whole compound would make escape almost impossible. As he searched the cages, he felt his anger growing at the thought that his people had been subjected to this, that all across the city people were being subjected to this. And their was nothing he could do. He froze as a soft voice called out to him.

"Tailon, is that really you?" He turned, walking slowly towards the cage. As he drew nearer, he noticed the first hint of light in the eastern sky. He could make out the face of an old man sitting in one of the cages. Derrik, the village shoemaker. His coat was dirty and tattered, a swollen cut ran across his face. Tailon knelt by the cage, peering in between the bars. Inside, he could see five others, still asleep, including two of the villagers: a middle aged woman who had been the miller's wife, and her son, barely five. As they awoke, he held a finger to his lips, then turned to Derrik.

"Where are the others, Derrik?"

"Their are two more, over their in that cage." The old man pointed. Tailon got up and hurried over to the other cage. Inside were a young man and woman, the miller's son and his betrothed. She scrambled to her knees as he approached, but he barely moved. Their was an ugly gash on his head, clearly infected.

"I've come to get you out. Can he move?"

She shook her head.

"He was hurt trying to defend us when... when they came. He's been getting worse all weak. He won't... he won't last much longer." Her voice broke completely.

Nodding, Tailon turned to Aldus.

"How far to these tunnels of your's, Aldus? Could he be carried that far?" Either way, they had to leave soon. The Sun was rising.

"The tunnels run all around the city, the nearest entrance is next to the gate, on this side of the compound. Although we need him to be able to run, if we are to get him out of here. Bring him to me, and I will heal his wounds as best as I can." Said Aldus, as he began focusing his magical strength, he would need as much as he could to heal the man to a state in which he could move.

OOC: No he's talking about the five other men already inside


Actually I was talking about the Dark Lord and Sha'ta.

Actually I was talking about the Dark Lord and Sha'ta.

Ok my bad

Ragal went through the other 2 people's minds. They also seemed clean, but one also seemed cloudy. Not suprisingly, it was the troublesome friar. His memories were nonexistant! Something was wrong with him...

Mechan searched the area for any other live beings in the immediate area with his mind. He found some. They were in the ruins, of course.

He amplified his voice. "We know there are more people in there! Come out or suffer the consequences!"

The four others of the party, huddled together in the ruins, defying the order.

"As I said earlier, you have 10 seconds!"

10...

9...

8...

The rouge stepped in front of the mage, his arms spread wide to block his sight. His hands were unarmed, and his weapon still sheathed on his back, yet for some reason he was adamant about keeping the dragon mage at bay, “Hey! You just can’t go blowing people up willy nilly… It’s far from civil! Not to mention the very fact you keep threatening people with death might be a reason WHY they’re hiding.”

And as if he was tempting death itself, he would boast in a self righteous voice, “Besides, I thought that people who could bend dragons to their wills might come up with better plans than ‘blow them all to kingdom come!’ I mean, really, did they give you ANY lesson on subtlety in your tutelage?”

"The tunnels run all around the city, the nearest entrance is next to the gate, on this side of the compound. Although we need him to be able to run, if we are to get him out of here. Bring him to me, and I will heal his wounds as best as I can." Said Aldus, as he began focusing his magical strength, he would need as much as he could to heal the man to a state in which he could move.

Tailon nodded.

"I'll deal with the locks." He drew his sword. "Unless you have a spell that can break those too." If not, he would hack the locks right off. In the cages, the other slaves were now awake. The first beams of sunlight were shining into the compound.

Behind him, Tailon heard a noise. He spun round, sword raised, to see two sleepy guards walking into the compound. The next shift. The guards stopped as they noticed him, then hurriedly drew their swords. Not waiting for a challenge, Tailor threw himself at them. The first guard leaped back, sword raised defensively, while the other turned and shouted for the watch. The guard wheeled 'round again, but before he could even raise his weapon, Tailon's sword struck him. The man stumbled and fell, blood running down his face and across the ground. The first guard however was better prepared, and managed to deflect Tailon's blow and sending him stumbling to the side. The guard swung at him again, but Tailon rolled aside and stabbed upward, impaling the guard on his sword. Pushing the body aside, he scrambled to his feet, looking around for Aldus.

"Hurry. The guard will be coming."

Aldus took his blade and smashed the lock on the cage open. He grabbed the face of the injured man, spoke a few words of power and attempted to heal his wounds. Aldus felt his strength fade as the green in the man's gash turned into red and then sealed up completely. When Aldus was done he told the man, "If you think you have the energy to fight grab that guards sword!" Said Aldus pointing at the Slain Guard's sword, "We'll need an extra blade."

Aldus then pulled out his crossbow from off his back. He aimed the weapon at the second guard Tailon was fighting and fired, with a satisfying thud, the bolt imbedded itself into the guards head, sending him flying back a few feet. As he did that more guards started running out of the barracks with blades drawn. Aldus reloaded and fired three more bolts before he said, "Tailon, the sewers are over there!" Said Aldus pointing to a tunnel with a grate on it, "Head there I'll cover you!"

*RESURRECTION* OOC: We still doing this?

(OOC: I am, if I can get around to writing my next post. I had quite a few plans as to what I was going to do next, and I'd hate for them to be wasted.

As for the rest of you, I can't say).

OOC: Of course I'm still in!

[OOC: I am waiting for the situation in the Ruins to progress.]

[OOC: I suggest that the rogue, the dark lord in disguise, and the knights in shining armor make a break for it while the dragon riders are inexplicably affected by the Stasis spell!]

The Dark Lord looked at the dragon mages, unsure of what to do. "Well," he said turning to the traveler and the armored man, "Ordinarily I would have left by now. But I am interested in finding out why you are here."

OOC: Sorry about not posting for a while.

IC:
“Hey! You just can’t go blowing people up willy nilly… It’s far from civil! Not to mention the very fact you keep threatening people with death might be a reason WHY they’re hiding. Besides, I thought that people who could bend dragons to their wills might come up with better plans than ‘blow them all to kingdom come!’ I mean, really, did they give you ANY lesson on subtlety in your tutelage?”

You have made a grave mistake, young man." Mechan was irate, but did not show it. "The dragons have chosen to let us ride them, and they are higher in society than ourselves. If I had any sense, I would pinch a little artery in your brain with magic right now. But I will be merciful. Take your sword off your back, and let us make peace.

"Also, come out, you 4 people in the fortress! Come, and we will not hurt you! We are searching for the Dark Lord! We will not kill you, even if you have commited the gravest of murders!"


"Friar, that should answer your question."

The rogue's mind spun as he thought, while his body still stood bravely before the dragon riders. He had stated that they weren’t out to kill anyone, he HAD threatened to make someone ‘suffer the consequences’. There was also the fact that if they continued to place themselves at the ‘mercy’ of such beings, it would only lead to them being used or, worse, discovered (he had found that rule out after countless dealings with city guards). Therefore, he found it impertinent to twist the situation to some arrangement that would put him in the position of power, or, at the very least, grant him an opportunity to escape.

“For someone meaning peace, you sure do have a strange way of showing it! And besides, if you are searching for this ‘Dark Lord’, if he ever existed at all, wouldn’t he have the power to already escape from your clever little trap! Or even better, destroy you all as you stand here?” he spoke with as much confidence and assuredness as he could. In truth, he knew besides the hushed whispers of people talking about the Dark Lord, but he always thought they never mentioned him because they believed him to be bad luck, or, that calling upon his name would summon forth his ghost to smite them where they stood.

“On that reasoning, since you’re still standing… If he was here, he’s already left! Those people you ‘sense’ in the castle are either innocent bystanders cowering in fear because of your threats, or a trap set by your prey to kill any foolish enough to go after him!”

Aldus took his blade and smashed the lock on the cage open. He grabbed the face of the injured man, spoke a few words of power and attempted to heal his wounds. Aldus felt his strength fade as the green in the man's gash turned into red and then sealed up completely. When Aldus was done he told the man, "If you think you have the energy to fight grab that guards sword!" Said Aldus pointing at the Slain Guard's sword, "We'll need an extra blade."

Aldus then pulled out his crossbow from off his back. He aimed the weapon at the second guard Tailon was fighting and fired, with a satisfying thud, the bolt imbedded itself into the guards head, sending him flying back a few feet. As he did that more guards started running out of the barracks with blades drawn. Aldus reloaded and fired three more bolts before he said, "Tailon, the sewers are over there!" Said Aldus pointing to a tunnel with a grate on it, "Head there I'll cover you!"

Tailon saw Aldus open fire as guards came charging from several different directions. The freed villagers hesitated, staring around fearfully. Tailon tossed the miller's elder son John the dead guard's sword, then gestured towards the gates and the sewers beyond.

"Move, now. Head to the sewers. Their's no time to stand around."

Though he still seemed weak and shaky after his sudden healing, John nodded, then scrambled out of the cage and ran towards the gates of the compound, gesturing to the other villagers to follow. His wife to be, who's name Tailon recalled as Sara, followed, the rest of the villagers right behind her. The other slaves in the cages sat huddled in fear, unwilling or unable to move. Tailon knew that more people would increase the risk of capture, but he couldn't just leave them behind.

"Anyone else wants freedom, now's your chance." Their was a moment's pause, and Tailon was about to turn and run when one of the other slaves suddenly bolted forward after the villagers. A second later several others followed. The rest remained in their cages, obviously too afraid to flee. Forcing himself to remember that he still had duties to fulfill, Tailon spun round and dashed for the gates. Suddenly someone shouted a warning, but before he could turn a guard lunged into him from the side, sending both men to the ground. The guard was first to his feet, raising his blade, but Tailon slashed at his attacker, sending the man reeling against one of the cages. Tailon scrambled up and ran the guard through, then turned and raced through the gate and into the square outside the compound.

Rays of sunlight shot between the buildings and criss-crossed the market place, as a squad of Tirel militia moved to cut off the fleeing slaves. Across the square, John grappled with another soldier, who seized him by the throat and threw him against a wall before raising his sword for the killing stroke. Tailon reached them just in time, deflecting his sword sideways into a stone wall and knocking him to the pavement. He kicked the guard in the face, then, satisfied he was out cold, reached down and pulled John to his feet. The young man still looked pale and tired from his recent injuries, but their was no time to stop and rest. Glancing around, Tailon saw a well leading down into the sewers. Shouting to the fleeing slaves to stop, he bent down and pulled the cover off, then turned to face the two dozen or so guards now charging towards him.

"All of you stay together, and try to head west. Don't stop, and don't wait. I'll follow." He glanced around desperately. Where was Aldus? The guards and soldiers suddenly charged Tailon. Hoping to catch them off balance, he shouted and charged to meet them, swinging his blade wildly. One fell, but the next dodged his stroke and lashed out, slashing his arm and knocking him to the ground. Tailon felt his head hit the ground and he nearly passed out. Blinking blood out of his eyes and fighting the dizzyness, he slashed frantically at the guards. Once again he was faced with death, and if Aldus had not escaped, their would be no one to lead his people to safety. Once again, he had failed. The thought gave him a sudden burst of desperate strength and he hurled himself forward. He shoved past the surprised soldiers, then, still half-blinded, flung himself towards where he thought the entrance to the sewers was. He hit the pavement hard, scambling forward and expecting at any moment to feel a sword in his back. His hand touched paving stones, then empty air. Pulling himself the last few feet, he tumbled head-first into the well.

The Dark Lord smiled to himself as he listened to the exchange. "Clearly, this man has a point. If, by some Hellish chance, the Dark Lord is alive, he surely would not have stayed around here to be discovered. But honestly, why would you believe him alive?"

One of the men hiding in the ruins, one of the merchants, was a practiced, and powerful magician. He concentrated hard, deeply with his mind, and conjured up a phantom, a glimpse of reality. 200 yards behind the dragon mages. The ruins were a magical place, infused with the energy of those who had died in the great battle that had occurred there, and the merchant was able to draw on that power, to feed the illusion.

Sha'ta's face filled with horror, as behind his enemy, he spotted something far worse. It started as a faint glow, then grew. Becoming brighter and more vivid, until there stood a 10 foot tall skeletal being. Energy swirled around it, in blues and reds. Even at two hundred yards, it's bright green eyes were clearly defined, and appeared as if they were peering into his very sole. He stood their awestruck. If anyone felt for magical energy, this new creature would glow like the sun, from the amounts of environmental energy it was drawing from the rich battleground.

Aldus saw the slaves sprinting towards the sewers, running not only for there lives but there freedoms. After fighting off a few guards Aldus decided thta now was the time to abandon the fight option and continue on to the flight option. Sprinting as fast as he could he shouted to the slaves, "Everyone, follow me!" As he sprinted to the grate of the sewers, using magic he opened the lock and said, "Everyone in now!" As he got them in he saw a squad of soldiers headed his way. Channeling what was left of his strength, he made the guards weapons turn red hot, badly burning there hands, but not killing them, he had enough on his hands today.

When he had gotten everyone in the sewers he asked, "Where in the world is Tailon? I thought he was leading you in here?"

OOC-this is Comorostan. Old account stopped working

(OOC: Why has everyone stopped posting?)

Mechan was getting more and more annoyed.

"Look; when you've lived 540 years, you know stuff. The Dark Lord has risen again, but he has weak powers now. We need to search the area for him. He could not trick us; we are elves, not humans who change their minds easily. Now I want you to submit to being inspected."

OOC: I've always been posting!

OOC: Im waiting for the others to start talking

The rogue was about to speak again, if it wasn’t that his sharp eyes perceived the abomanation being summoned behind the dragon riders. He thought about calling out to distract them, giving him time to flee, but… As he saw the gargantuan skeleton stumble forward towards the obnoxious riders. He could only grin as he saw it get closer, closer, while his muscles braced themselves to go into a full sprint. Heck, even his mind was getting ready, his mental shield of fake memories still up while the undercurrent of thought began to open itself to feel the natural energies around him, preparing to transform into a creature of the wild to escape detection on his run.

Finally though, the skeleton was but a half dozen feet from the main cluster of dragons, “You know, for dragon riders, you sure do have a hard time seeing ten foot tall skeletons about to attack ya.”

"What the..." the huge skeleton pounced on one of the riders on horseback, because the dragon riders were up in the air. Letting out a fearsome war cry, Mechan and his 200 dragon riders dove down and slammed into the skeleton, knocking it down.

Meanwhile, the Colonel dispatched 25 unicorn riders to chase down the obnoxious man, who had run away.

ooc: I was actually waiting for a part where I could come in...

Sha'ta watched as the boy ran, he really did have no chance. Stupid boy. taking the distraction, Sha'ta ran back into the ruins, to the rest of the group. Once he was safely in the ruins, the skeleton faded, and vanished, as the merchant ended the spell.

Aldus saw the slaves sprinting towards the sewers, running not only for there lives but there freedoms. After fighting off a few guards Aldus decided thta now was the time to abandon the fight option and continue on to the flight option. Sprinting as fast as he could he shouted to the slaves, "Everyone, follow me!" As he sprinted to the grate of the sewers, using magic he opened the lock and said, "Everyone in now!" As he got them in he saw a squad of soldiers headed his way. Channeling what was left of his strength, he made the guards weapons turn red hot, badly burning there hands, but not killing them, he had enough on his hands today.

When he had gotten everyone in the sewers he asked, "Where in the world is Tailon? I thought he was leading you in here?"

(OOC: sorry I haven't posted for a while).

Tailon scrambled to his feet, amazed to still be alive, then wheeled round as he heard someone behind him, sword raised. He lowered his blade in relief as he saw it was Aldus.

"That's everyone, Aldus. Now, what's the fastest way out of here?" He glanced up the well. The guards had stopped, clustered around the rim, unwilling to jump down into the dark one at a time to face two prepared warriors. But they wouldn't wait for long. As he looked up, Tailon saw a guard lean over the edge of the well and fire a crossbow bolt into the sewer. He leaped back and turned to Aldus.

"You know the way better than me. Lead them out while I take rear guard." He still didn't fully believe that they had made it to the sewers, but they had a long way to go before they were safe, and it was anyone's guess weather they'd make it that far.

"I hope your men are waiting for us Aldus. Or we're all dead men."

(OOC: I'm going to be heading towards the monestary, if anyone wishes to meet me their. My character has business with the monks, but doesn't know most of them are dead.)

(OOC: had a group heading that way, maybe they will meet along the way.)

ooc: I'll just put my character there and jump in.

One good thing about wearing a dark colored cloak and wide brimmed hat, was that it concealed your movements as well as allowed you to blend in well with the dark. Combined, this not only allowed the young rogue to suddenly bolt off at a sprint that would surprise almost anyone looking at him, but it also made him hard to see by anyone trying to chase him. Combined with his agility and a useful distraction of a giant skeleton, he at least had quite a head start before the dragon mages would try to catch up with him.

Alas though, along open terrain he would eventually be hunted down by mounted units, although they’d have the trouble of spotting him first. Luckily however, he knew right where he was going. Not to far away he had spotted a sharp fall along the soft rolling hills of the plains, as well as some foliage and small trees that had grown at the base of the inexplicable drop that could cover his tail for a few minute. And thus he made for top of that hill, jumped, and in mid fall pulled at the natural energy in the air and landed in his little hidey hole as an animal of the wild.

He then took the rest of the few minutes he had to suppress the energy that clung to his fur, so that his species nature wouldn’t give him away, and then found a secure area to curl up in. Anyone probing the dense foliage would most likely only see a fox curled up for the night, which would hopefully fool them into thinking he had escaped.

That gave him the night to rest before heading out for new adventure, or at least trying to shake the memories of a ghost, a creepy prior, and a flock full of dragons.

(OOC: sorry I haven't posted for a while).

Tailon scrambled to his feet, amazed to still be alive, then wheeled round as he heard someone behind him, sword raised. He lowered his blade in relief as he saw it was Aldus.

"That's everyone, Aldus. Now, what's the fastest way out of here?" He glanced up the well. The guards had stopped, clustered around the rim, unwilling to jump down into the dark one at a time to face two prepared warriors. But they wouldn't wait for long. As he looked up, Tailon saw a guard lean over the edge of the well and fire a crossbow bolt into the sewer. He leaped back and turned to Aldus.

"You know the way better than me. Lead them out while I take rear guard." He still didn't fully believe that they had made it to the sewers, but they had a long way to go before they were safe, and it was anyone's guess weather they'd make it that far.

"I hope your men are waiting for us Aldus. Or we're all dead men."

"Alright Tailon, take your people, run them down the tunnels, three passageways down take a right then follow that tunnel all the way down, climb the ladder at the end, when you get to the top you will be in my camp, if my men question you utter the phrase, "I am a friend of Oblivion, by steel and magic", they will let you pass if you do. Now go, I'll buy you a few minutes!" Said Aldus as he conjured a few creatures to help stall the guards.

Tailon was reluctant to run, but he knew Aldus probably had a better chance against the guards than he did. Worse, if the fugitives panicked, they could easily become scattered in the dark tunnels. He turned and stumbled down the tunnel, calling out directions as he ran, leading his people towards an uncertain destination. Behind, he heard the sounds of pursuing guards growing fainter, as whatever Aldus had conjured seemed to be holding them at bay. After a couple of minutes he stopped, calling everyone to a halt. Quickly, he took a count of the fugitives. To his surprise and relief, everyone was present. Making sure everyone stayed together, he lead the fugitives more slowly through the dark, watery sewers, feeling his way along the slimy tunnels until gradually he noticed that the walls were becoming more visible. A little further and around a bend, and he saw thin rays of light slanting down from the roof of the tunnel. At the end he could soon make out the ladder Aldus had mentioned. He heard murmured prayers of thanks from some of the slaves, weary gasps from others as they sank, exhausted, to the ground. John in particular still looked sick, the effects of his wounds not fully healed. Handing the old shoemaker his sword, Tailon scrambled up the ladder. He had no sooner reached the top of the ladder when he found himself looking into a small camp of soldiers. They spotted him almost at once. Pulling himself out of the sewer, Tailon raised his hands and said:

"I am a friend of Oblivion, by steel and magic. Aldus sent me. I am a deserter from the Tirel army and my village was raided by bandits. He helped me free the survivors, and escape, but guards were close behind us." He looked around anxiously. If Aldus had not escaped, he doubted the soldiers would be very welcoming.

(OOC: bump).

ooc: Hey, could you guys answer my question?

ooc: Hey, could you guys answer my question?

(OOC: what question? I don't see anything in the last page or so, other than a comment that you'll meet us at the monestery.)

ooc: Sorry, I must have misposted then, I was wondering what was the state of the monastery? Is it like burning or something? Also where is it?

ooc: Sorry, I must have misposted then, I was wondering what was the state of the monastery? Is it like burning or something? Also where is it?

(OOC: Peak of the southernmost mountain I think. And I think its a ruin. I'd say to ask the guy who supposed to be living there, but I think he's dropped out.)

Tailon was reluctant to run, but he knew Aldus probably had a better chance against the guards than he did. Worse, if the fugitives panicked, they could easily become scattered in the dark tunnels. He turned and stumbled down the tunnel, calling out directions as he ran, leading his people towards an uncertain destination. Behind, he heard the sounds of pursuing guards growing fainter, as whatever Aldus had conjured seemed to be holding them at bay. After a couple of minutes he stopped, calling everyone to a halt. Quickly, he took a count of the fugitives. To his surprise and relief, everyone was present. Making sure everyone stayed together, he lead the fugitives more slowly through the dark, watery sewers, feeling his way along the slimy tunnels until gradually he noticed that the walls were becoming more visible. A little further and around a bend, and he saw thin rays of light slanting down from the roof of the tunnel. At the end he could soon make out the ladder Aldus had mentioned. He heard murmured prayers of thanks from some of the slaves, weary gasps from others as they sank, exhausted, to the ground. John in particular still looked sick, the effects of his wounds not fully healed. Handing the old shoemaker his sword, Tailon scrambled up the ladder. He had no sooner reached the top of the ladder when he found himself looking into a small camp of soldiers. They spotted him almost at once. Pulling himself out of the sewer, Tailon raised his hands and said:

"I am a friend of Oblivion, by steel and magic. Aldus sent me. I am a deserter from the Tirel army and my village was raided by bandits. He helped me free the survivors, and escape, but guards were close behind us." He looked around anxiously. If Aldus had not escaped, he doubted the soldiers would be very welcoming.

The Second in command of the Line-Breakers stepped forward and said, "Aldus sent you? How many guards is he fighting?"

The Second in command of the Line-Breakers stepped forward and said, "Aldus sent you? How many guards is he fighting?"

"I don't know, but the militia and the royal troops were alerted. Their will be dozens of them by now. They'll have a hard time coming through the sewers though. The tunnels were too narrow to rush him."

"Looks like we have a job to do Gents, Our brave Heir has gotten himself into another sticky situation, we have to ensure his escape so Oblivion may Live on!" Shouted Grom, "Shintus! Ready thirteen others! We need to make sure those guards don't know who we are, so bring the potions of forgetfulness!"

The Man named Shintus nodded and did as he was told, Grom knew what he was doing, and his experience would be invaluable in this situation. Grom grabbed by the shoulders in a gentle sort of way and said, "Alright kid, stay here or come with us, but your people are safe here, we have to go get Aldus, so are you in or out?"

As Grom was asking if Tailon would help the Line-Breakers bail Aldus out, The Valiant Knight was fighting for his life deep in the sewers of Tirel. So far he had bested seven guards who had rushed him, they were not the best fighters in the world, but they had a particular habit of stepping over the ever building piles of their dead comrades, they were persistant to say the least, and as Strong as he was Aldus was exhausted. He had only two summoned creatures by his side out of his origonal six. He was down to his two favorites, and Ice Golem and a Axe wielding Minotaur, he trusted the two like old friends. In front of him were at least twelve guards, they were cautious, but Aldus could see the fire in their eyes. One brave guard, no older than seventeen rushed at him with a pike, aiming for Aldus' ribs, with expert skill Aldus batted the pike away with his Sword, and slipped a knife into the boys ribs, he saw the life leave the boy's eyes, Aldus felt a chill run down his spine as he thought of Tailon and his future, he hoped he wasn't on the recieving end of an angry guards blade.

"Looks like we have a job to do Gents, Our brave Heir has gotten himself into another sticky situation, we have to ensure his escape so Oblivion may Live on!" Shouted Grom, "Shintus! Ready thirteen others! We need to make sure those guards don't know who we are, so bring the potions of forgetfulness!"

The Man named Shintus nodded and did as he was told, Grom knew what he was doing, and his experience would be invaluable in this situation. Grom grabbed by the shoulders in a gentle sort of way and said, "Alright kid, stay here or come with us, but your people are safe here, we have to go get Aldus, so are you in or out?"

Tailon knew it was a risk, and he didn't want to leave his people in strange hands even for a moment, but he was a soldier, and Aldus had risked his life to help him in the escape. The choice was made before he had time to think.

"I'm in. I'm no knight or mage, but I can handle a sword. Just take care of my people."

The unicorn riders were catching up to the young man. The steeds came in with their horns lowered, and the riders launched successive mental attacks, managing in prying away some of his real memories...

(OOC: bump)

(OOC: bumped, again.)

ooc: Sorry, I'll try to post soon.

Tailon knew it was a risk, and he didn't want to leave his people in strange hands even for a moment, but he was a soldier, and Aldus had risked his life to help him in the escape. The choice was made before he had time to think.

"I'm in. I'm no knight or mage, but I can handle a sword. Just take care of my people."

Grom smiled at the young soldier and said, "Aye lad, they will be safe here, our people will keep em fed and in good health. Now then come!" As Grom said that a line of Knights took positions just outside the sewer entranceway. Grom Bellowed, "Alright, Lets move out!" With a cry the Soldiers of Oblivion charged into the entranceway, eager to save their commander.

Back in the sewers, Aldus was running out of options, he had slain 16 Soldiers by himself, but at the same time he had suffered around 12 wounds, he was running out of strength, and quickly. The Milita had been pulled back awhile ago, and the Royal Guard were intent of taking Aldus alive, their captain shouted, "You Fugitive! Come out with your weapon sheathed and we will not kill you!"

Aldus chuckled and said, "You are fools, your king is but a petty Tyrant! Can you not see the destruction and devestation around you? You should be the one to lay down your arms, for I assure you it will not be me falling this day!"

The Captain looked taken aback and then regained his composition, "If it is death you seek then I shall Grant it!"

Aldus couldn't help but smile and say, "Oh Yeah? Mind if my friends tag along?" As he said that, his loyal Knights AND Tailon rounded the corner, armed with blade crossbow and magic they were ready for a fight.

"Charge men!" Shouted Grom! The effect upon the guard was great, if one man could kill sixteen of theirs they were worried how much seventeen men could do.

Fortunately, Tailon's eyes were accustomed to the dark again by the time he and the knights charged around a corner into a force of bewildered royal guards. Not slowing down, Tailon flung himself at the troops, using the edge granted by surprise to maximum effect. Royal guards were Tirel's best troops, but bloodied and wore out as they were, and taken by surprise, they gave way easily. Tailon slashed at one of the still stunned soldiers, stabbed another through a gap in his armor. In the dark and crowded tunnels, one of the guards landed a glancing blow with the flat of his blade. The tunnel was too crowded for Tailon to counter with his sword, so he used one leg to trip the attacker, then stumbled forward, out of reach of the fallen man's frantically slashing blade. He twisted round, sword raised, to find his attacker already lying dead. Glancing about, he saw the rest of the guards falling back towards the exit and the market square above. A few of the braver men were holding rear guard, while behind them their captain shouted orders to stand firm. One or two of the retreating soldiers fired a crossbow bolt down the tunnel, but it was more an effort to deter pursuit than a serious attack.

The last few guards reached the end of the tunnel. Tailon was just lowering his sword, gasping slightly with exhaustion, when he felt a sudden, inexplicable alarm. He turned to Aldus.

"Listen, I know this sounds mad, but... we need to get out of here. They're using magic. If we don't leave, we'll die. Don't ask me how I know. Just trust me."

Aldus felt a pulse of energy coming from somewhere, "Your right, we should get moving!" Said Aldus. But as he listened to the magical pulses he felt a sudden dread come over him, "That is not natural magic! There's something evil about it, we must leave Immediatly, Grom use those potions of forgetfullness, we need them to forget our faces!"

Grom nodded and bellowed, "Loose Potion everyone!" The men of the Line-Breakers did as asked, and threw the potions with astonishing strength. Where the potions landed a thick fog took it's place. The fog started moving towards the soldiers, and one by one they fell asleep and forgot everything that had just happened. Aldus Shouted, "Everyone move!" and all seventeen of them ran for the exit, when the got out Aldus made sure the Gate to the sewer was melted shut with magical flame. "Alright Tailon, we must leave Tirel immediatly, it is no longer safe for any of us here, we have a safe house in lake azermajah, about 10 leagues to the northwest, you may come with us there, and then we can take you wherever you need to go."

Tailon nodded.

"Thank you, your highness." He sat down, feeling suddenly light-headed. Only now did he notice the gash on his arm, recieved during the fighting. "But first, do you have a healer? One of those bastards managed to hit me, and my people have been through God knows what."

He leaned against a nearby tree, trying to clear his head. He wondered what he was going to do now. He knew there was still a chance, however slim, that others of his village were being held in the city or elsewhere, but even if that were the case, he did not know how to locate them. And every moment in Tirel would be more dangerous after the battle. He had done what he had to to rescue his people at once and risk a battle, but he doubted that every trooper who had seen him had been in the sewer when the potion was released. Moreover, he knew that the people he had freed would need his help. And he had questions that needed answering. Now he was faced with the moment he had been dreading: what would he do once he had found his people. They had escaped, but for what? They were branded slaves, he was an outlaw in Tirel, and there home had been burnt to ash in a land overrun by brigands. They were too few to rebuild. That meant finding somewhere in this chaos that was willing to take them in. So far he could only think of one place, but he would ask Aldus before he made up his mind.

"Aldus, I thank you for your help. You have done more than I could have asked for, or even dared hope for. But my village is gone. I am an outlaw, my people branded as slaves. We have no home. I need somewhere safe that they can stay. I had thought of the monestary in the southern mountains, unless you know of somewhere better." He considered concealing his other reason, but Aldus had earned his trust.

"I also wish to ask the monks there about this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small, blue gemstone. "It was given to me by a dying mage during the first assault on Tirel during the war. I don't know why he gave it to me, but I believe it is magical. It glows at times, from some inner light. And I think... I think maybe it was why I could sense the magic in the tunnel. I don't know what it is, but I thought that it might have some power to help me in my quest, and that perhaps the monks could identify it."

Tailon nodded.

"Thank you, your highness." He sat down, feeling suddenly light-headed. Only now did he notice the gash on his arm, recieved during the fighting. "But first, do you have a healer? One of those bastards managed to hit me, and my people have been through God knows what."

He leaned against a nearby tree, trying to clear his head. He wondered what he was going to do now. He knew there was still a chance, however slim, that others of his village were being held in the city or elsewhere, but even if that were the case, he did not know how to locate them. And every moment in Tirel would be more dangerous after the battle. He had done what he had to to rescue his people at once and risk a battle, but he doubted that every trooper who had seen him had been in the sewer when the potion was released. Moreover, he knew that the people he had freed would need his help. And he had questions that needed answering. Now he was faced with the moment he had been dreading: what would he do once he had found his people. They had escaped, but for what? They were branded slaves, he was an outlaw in Tirel, and there home had been burnt to ash in a land overrun by brigands. They were too few to rebuild. That meant finding somewhere in this chaos that was willing to take them in. So far he could only think of one place, but he would ask Aldus before he made up his mind.

"Aldus, I thank you for your help. You have done more than I could have asked for, or even dared hope for. But my village is gone. I am an outlaw, my people branded as slaves. We have no home. I need somewhere safe that they can stay. I had thought of the monestary in the southern mountains, unless you know of somewhere better." He considered concealing his other reason, but Aldus had earned his trust.

"I also wish to ask the monks there about this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small, blue gemstone. "It was given to me by a dying mage during the first assault on Tirel during the war. I don't know why he gave it to me, but I believe it is magical. It glows at times, from some inner light. And I think... I think maybe it was why I could sense the magic in the tunnel. I don't know what it is, but I thought that it might have some power to help me in my quest, and that perhaps the monks could identify it."

Aldus looked at the stone with great interest, "To me this looks like... Almost like a small nexus stone, but I cannot know for certain. The monks would know for sure however. We could take you there. As for the brands on your people we can heal most of them, however the scars would remain, You must warn them however, the process can be uncomfortable at times, even magic has it's flaws. The Healer's tent is the white one with a red cross on it, Diabella will take care of you all, she is the best at what she does. When you are ready to travel let me know and we will lead your people to the Monastary."

Bump bump, bumpity bump!

(OOC: no one has posted for how long besides us? I'd like to keep this going, but I don't know if that's possible. On the other hand, I still have a map and a backstory, so maybe I can keep using this setting for other rps in the future, if this one dies out.)

ooc: I'm still waiting for the situation in the ruins to progress.

OOC: Don't kill it!

(OOC: Unfortunately, I will be very, very busy this week, and probably next as well. So I can't garuntee continued participation. My character's story is, well, not wrapped up, but at a good point to pause.

Hence, I won't be posting for a while, barring maybe one more post to explain what my character plans to do next. If others wish to continue, they should feel free to do so, but if not, I will with great regret be putting this rp on hold until such time as I am able to devote a few hours to it. However, I hate to waste a good setting and backstory, so I'll probably use it for future rps, or for a continuation of this one at a later date, if that's ok.)