TerraNES: The Civil Experiment

I decided to take Iggy's style and describe different stereotypes the Egyptians see in others.

First thing first, Egyptians separate themselves into several groups.

Anorians are the citizens of the once great city of Anor. Since the fall of Anorian Egypt they are seen as treacherous and all other Egyptians think they are constantly trying to take over Egypt and enslaving everyone else.

That soldiers ran to the other army!
Anorians will always join your enemies, even if you are the king of Anor.

Deltans, or more commonly known as Lower Egyptians are considered strict and unforgiving. They see only a single way that each thing can be done and have an extreme lack of imagination according to the stereotype.

In order to find the area of the land you are checking you must cover the entire land with pieces of known area and then count them all.
But this is a rectangular area, all you need is the width and height.
No! You must bring the pieces of known area! That is the only right way!

Thebeans, or more commonly known Upper Egyptians are seen as proud but a little over interested in financial success. They are also more interested in the outer deserts than other Egyptians. They are not considered greedy, just over interested in making money in random places.

Have you heard the money I made in that Oasis?
You made money in an Oasis? Impossible, those places are poor and empty!
I made a gold coin! How's that?
How many?
One!

Judeo-Egyptians, who are actually Upper Egyptians who moved to Judea under the order of an older king are considered a little out of touch with reality, and since the king comes from them, Egypt is usually seen like that as well. They are also extremely interested in bureaucracy as that is, as they see, the only way to keep the conquered nations in line.

There was a Canaanite who wanted a building permit.
The one from the coast?
No he came from the southern desert.
The east or west?
The western part, not far from the coast.
He wanted a building permit for a house or a temple?
A workshop.
You know what workshop?
No, he forgot to tell me.
Hehe, he's going to get his workshop brought down.
Another happy costumer, he'll be back next week.

Nubians are seen as the half-witted brothers of the Egyptians. They are seen as stupid and weak, always coming to the king for support in some unimportant battle that they could easily win if they only knew how.

That Nubian southern Nome sent for support against a peasant uprising.
What peasant uprising?
There was a kid who accidently hit a magistrate with a loaf of bread while playing.

Libyans are considered annoying pests, weak but bothersome, like tiny bugs. When they come in large numbers they are seen like a locust plague, it will kill and cause damage, but Egypt will live through it.

A wild Libyan tribe appears
It uses sand throw. It is ineffective.
You use touch. It disappears into the sand.

Kushiites are seen as insane warmongers, who will fight lions to get to a piece of rotten meat. Crazy lunatics who tend to lose because of it.

Where is my food?
That crow stole it!
WE GO TO WAR!

Axumites and other myriad peple of the southern Long Sea are seen as extremely money hungry. They are seen as greedy, materialistic people who will sell their mothers for a single coin.

An Axumite soldiers fights against an Egyptian when suddenly the Egyptian drops a golden coin. The Axumite jumps to the floor to get the coin, while the Egyptian strikes him down. As he is dying the Axumite screams "I made another golden coin today!" The Egyptian looks with confusion and takes the coin back. The Axumite suddenly gets up with his fatal wounds and jumps at the Egyptian. "That's mine!!!@@@##@!!!" before finally dying.

Dakinsans are strange unknown people who bring extremely rare merchandise to Quseir. They are so unknown that the only stereotype about them is that for them the rare merchandise are considered everyday things but the twist is that normal things in Egypt are considered rare for them.

That Dakinsans probably sleeps with his silk robes.
Sleep with them? Why would you sleep in your normal clothes? He probably sleeps with cotton peasant clothes.

The Levantines, or better known in Egypt as Phoenicians, are considered rich beyond anyone's dreams throwing huge sums of money on petty reasons. They are also considered fractured and at war with themselves.

Have you heard of the guy from Tyre that hired assassins to commit suicide?
That's nothing, some guy from Byblos bought twelve elephants to have his workshop most successful.
Why that's more?
He had no competition.

Hyakians and Katanics are the names given to all the people beyond the Levantine league in east and north respectively. They are both seen as bloodthirsty savages who build large empires for no reason other than just seeing blood spill.

A prince of Katan has launched a new war.
Oh? And for what Purpose?
Purpose for Katanics? I guess he liked his enemy's red hue of blood.

The Hyak King went to war.
He needs new red paint already?

Horders sent.

What you did there.

If at all possible I will be sending orders tomorrow afternoon. Blame my law and justice midterm, Terrance

Orders are in. Paradise shall last till the sun sets for a final time, and chaos reigns on the world of men.

DECLARATION OF THE IRON LANCERS

TAKE HEED ALL, FAITHFUL OR HERETIC, FOR THESE ARE THE WORDS GIVEN BY FELLIP, THE IRON PROPHET

You, The Iron Lancers are assembled here today to hear these words, given to my by Masgard itself. And I, as the Iron Prophet of the Iron Lancers, who have sword to protect and defend the Faith as we all have sworn, do bring these words to your ears.

Times come but rare that one must recognize a cancer on one's own body. A leprous sore, a rotting lesion. A disgusting rankle on the pure body of the Faith. And when they do, we have always been merciless in the irradiation of heresies of all stripes whenever we may find them!

And yet now, we find the most detailed and most dangerous heresy of all leap from the story book into reality. The Red Faith has returned in full! Look upon the mockery the Red Prophet has made of the Faith! No discipline in the eyes of the Gods! No iron will of soul within! Completely consumed by rage and the abuse of Teufela!

*The Red Prophet makes another savage attempt at breaking free from his chains, earning a glare of scorn from the Iron Prophet*

The Gods have made it clear. No matter the danger the rising tide may bring, we must cut off the rotting limb, the cancerous lesion. We must amputate what holds us down, so that our inherent strength and will shall bring us before our gods as pure as brazen bronze! The Gods have made it clear. The Druids, bad as they are, are still men of belief, men of honor mistaken though though they may be. Men. Men they are and men they remain. The Red Faith are nothing but a beast upon the fabric of this world, one which may spread to infinity and tear down heaven itself in their insatiable desire for destruction!

THE GODS HAVE MADE IT CLEAR! AS CLEAR AS THE DAY IS BLUE, AND THE BLOOD IS RED.

Hear me, Iron Lancers! Hear me, Faithful of the World! I hereby cast out the Buertgang and Vahlshallah from my protection, and declare their leadership and all who are in the Red Faith cult to be lost from my protection. Eternal blessings for their deaths, for their lands to be cleansed and their blood to be splattered over the stones for their crimes. They are now your foremost enemies- and upon them you shall unleash your devotion to not to Masgard, but Odane. Show them how they, the disobedient children of the Gods, shall be punished!

Faithful of the World, Unleash the Cleansing!

! I am happy I am nowhere near Keltia right now! As soon as it was winning, the faith has schismed!

spaceman98 said:

! I am happy I am nowhere near Keltia right now! As soon as it was winning, the faith has schismed!

Click to expand...

They weren't winning. I had just finished reconquering my territory, and have liberated Dumonos again. All that I wait for, is Tycho's last piece of the battle, then I will begin to post all of my approved stories. Their armies were smashed, and their fleets severely weakened. The schism has been rebuilding for many years, and now has come to the surface. The Iron Faith, versus the Red Faith. The Faith has always been divided between Iron, Red, and Grey.

The Schism truly started way back before Vallarvale in Valyria was destroyed.

Treachery by Tycho
“Vaitus? Vaitus!” The Vahlshallahn soldiers rounded up and taken to the center of the camp were shouting for him now, as the Armorican soldiers surrounding them snarled in their heathen tongue. Vaitus, hiding amongst the tents with the few Red Guard members still left alive, watched with his red rimmed eyes as the campfires that the soldiers had been eating at not but a few hours ago now illuminated the line of prisoners before them. One thousand spears captured, give or take a few hundred that had perished when the Dumonan and Armorican heathens streamed out of the hills. The Red Guard that had stood and fought against the Unsullied, ripping open their jaws and their faces, had been captured and executed, but not before inflicting as many casualties as possible upon the enemy.
One of the Armorican druids stalked forward up and down the line, frowning in consternation. “Where is your leader?” he snarled in a guttural affront to the pure Vahlshallahn language. “Kurare and the Red Prophet are up on the hill, but where is Vaitus?”
One of the Red Guard members down the line laughed and grinned, rolling his eyes back in his head as he bled from the effects of the teufela leaf. “Vaitus, Vaitus, Vaitus,” he chanted, laughing. “The Red Ghost of Dunmore, Vaitus, Vaitus, Vaitus, he walks he sneaks, he climbs he kills, he’ll rip of your face, you bloody son of wench!”
An Armorican Unsullied drove a spear through the man’s head, and he spoke no more, gurgling softly as he died on the ground. The leader of the enemy forces spoke softly once more. “Where is Vaitus? Whoever tells me doesn’t get killed, I swear to you on that count.”
Vaitus motioned towards his lieutenant, Bane, and made the hand signs quickly. Bane sent back his own, questioning ones, Vaitus responding in turn. Bane nodded, and tapped his men on the shoulder. Crouching low, he moved through the camp with them, keeping low to the ground in the smoke red armor.
“Tell me where that bloody whoreson is, and I’ll let the first among you go. I swear upon the gods.”
One of the spearmen spat at the Armorican’s feet. “Take your filthy tree gods and bugger yourself with the, you bloody heathen,” he snarled. “They didn’t save Dumonos from being turned to ash, did they?”
The Armorican laughed. “Dumonos was betrayed by you foolish fools, you dolt. The strength of old Armorica in its legions of Unsullied will never be cracked by you cannibalistic runts. We will not be broken or shattered by your words, or your actions; your forces by Condate, shattered by our own, just like the Beurtgang forces at the Battle of the Ruins. Kurare and the Red Prophet will soon be on the run, and we’ll chase them back to the bloody ocean and let them bleed in the shallows as we cut them down.”
Vaitus clacked his teeth together and made a hook motion towards the right flank of the Armorican line. Silas nodded and snuck away with his own men.
“Condate will hold like your mother’s legs when the Red Faith gets here.”
“If the Dragon Horde doesn’t get you first; pray tell, Beurtgang as I’ve heard has lost another port to the filthy barbarians.”
Vaitus drew his sword and crouched. Now or never.
“And when your filthy Red Faith and Grey Faith arrive, we’ll cut them down like so much wheat before the scythe.” The Armorican grinned down at the other man. Vaitus signaled.
Bane and Silas and all the others swept out of their position, screaming bloody murder as they flung themselves into the Armoricans. Taken off guard, they shouted, grabbed for weapons that were snatched away, and torn to pieces. Vaitus himself moved towards their leader, clamping his sharpened teeth on the man’s lower jaw and ripping into it, before dragging it out of his skull. Blood was everywhere, and the decapitation was smooth and easy, blood splattering across Vaitus’s armor. He laughed, ripping a packet of teufela leaf out of a pocket, and shoving it all into his mouth as the Armoricans scattered like autumn leaves before the wind.
“They are in the camp, my brothers; set fire to it!”
The spearmen got their spears back and dashed forward, shouting and clamoring against the Armoricans coming to see what the commotion was, overwhelming them and trampling them underfoot. The Red Guard, incensed by bloodshed, sliced their way through camp, setting their armor on fire and laughing as they smashed through canvas cloth and sheepskin. Armoricans were shouting, Unsullied fighting in the distance, and Vaitus was up with them, sinking his teeth into a man’s forehead as his knife slammed into his throat, spreading red ruin everywhere.
An arrow caught Vaitus in his left eye, and half the world went dark. Pushing the dead man’s standing body away from him. Vaitus ripped it out and snapped his grinning face towards the pale faced archer, nocking another arrow to fire. The knife left Vaitus’s hand, and found a home in the archer’s head, dropping him to the ground in death’s cold embrace.
Smoke and flame filled the air, illuminating the camp fully while up on the ridge, Vahlshallahn forces that had overwhelmed the Armorican archers and spears fired arrows upon the Armoricans and Dumonans as they tried to regroup. Vaitus laughed and laughed and laughed; there was no escape for the fools before them now, there was no escape for any of them.

Leavetakings by me

A large portion of the Armorican army charged down the hill, and smashed into the ranks of the Red Guard. Captain Volon met in combat with Vaitus, and Vaitus cackled maniacally as he attempted to bite off Captain Volon's head. Captain Volon dodged, and shoved his spear deep into the man's chest on the first blow. Vaitus fell, completely outclassed by Volon's expertise. "Why? Why would you do such a thing? Those soldiers had surrendered! Do you have no honour?" and Vaitus cackled even though blood began to come out of his mouth. The Unsullied captain kicked the man and then realized the man was dead inside. Volon stabbed the spear again, this time into the mans throat and tainted blood splattered his black uniform. In a matter of minutes, the Red Guard was defeated. The army under Volon once more marched up the hill, and rejoined the forces of Caedmon.

Finally a voice came from the body of the Druidic army, the first voice heard from it since the charge began. It was none other than Caedmon, who began to speak once more.

"Look how far you have fallen from the ways of your ancestors! Look in awe as not only the Druidic gods, but the Faithful gods turn on you as well. Go to Ildaris, and redeem your souls, for if you do not, both our pantheons will fight over who gets to torture your undead souls. Cast down your weapons! We will not harm you should you do so! Look at the Faithful who truly surrendered! They have chosen the way of Ildaris! The true way of the Faith! Will you join them or would you rather die in ignorance? You have a choice, die to our blades, or go to Ildaris!"
"How do we know you won't kill us all regardless?" asked a shaky voice from the Vahlshallan lines.

"Because I, and my people believe in something your people know nothing of." Caedmon spat. "It is a thing called honor."
"Your army lies in ruins, your leaders held by our army. Would all of you rather die as soldiers of a forsaken cause? Would you rather die misled by your priests? Or would you reestablish your contact with your own gods?"

The vast majority surrendered. Many dropped their weapons, and were filtered slowly through the ranks of the spearmen and Unsullied who searched for the vile Teufela leaf. Any carrying it, or under it's influence, were killed where they stood. The rest were allowed to go, as the whole of the Druidic army stared at them in disdain.

Those of the red faith were the only ones who remained. The Unsullied and Spearmen attacked and slaughtered them all.

After the real surrender, and the destruction of the Vahlshallan army, the soldiers doused the flames of the Vahlshallan camp. They took what they could, and set up camp across the field.

The Aftermath by me

Caedmon stayed to take care of the wounded and gather the wandering soldiers. A camp was built near the burnt Vahlshallan camp. Fires were built to keep the wounded warm, and cloaks were used as dressings and blankets.
Scouting parties were sent out to gather the lost soldiers, and a guard detail was set to the Vahlshallans, they would leave for Ildaris any day now.

The spearmen joined the ranks of the faithful bound for Ildaris, and the old Vahlshallan soldiers began their trek that would take them to the Lands of the Alfrenks. There, the Alfrenk army would pick them up and take them to Frankrith. Their ships would then set sail for the promised land.

General Kurare and the Red Prophet were lined up in front of King Caedmon. "You." He then pointed at the General. You will be free in a way. You will be guarded by Unsullied at all times, this is as much to ensure you do not escape, as for your protection. You." he then pointed at the red prophet, who was frothing at the mouth and screaming that the heathens would die to the spears summoned by Masgard. "You will stay in your chains dog. You are only alive due to the sway you hold over the faith." Then King Caedmon knocked the mess out. "I can't believe your leaders would listen to something like that. It is disgusting. In our lands, one like that, is sent to the lands of the dead."

King Caedmon walked away, and the Unsullied dragged the Red Prophet away, spittle dripping from it's lips.

The Storm of the ports by me

On Captain Volon's return, he was given new orders. He would take the Vahlshallan armor left on the field, and throw it onto his soldiers. They would then board the Curraghs, which would fly Vahlshallan banners.

Captain Volon, with his piece of the army, left the camp again with 3000 spearmen, and 300 Unsullied.

They boarded the ships, and each soldier knew what to do. The great operation began.

The fleet split into three parts, destined for three different locations.

In Veneta, the soldiers landed at midday, as promised reinforcements. Only 700 spearmen, and 50 Unsullied disembarked at Veneta.

They had arrived just after the rumours had begun of the Vahlshallan defeat to the south. There were Vahlshallan ships in port, yet not the entire fleet was there. The harbormaster was told that the Curraghs would be inspected that night by him and his men, the harbormaster agreed. That nights, while their crews were in the taverns, the ship captains met the Unsullied and Armorican spearmen on the docks. Every "Inspection Party" had 1 Unsullied, and 2 Spearmen. The rest were spread throughout the city.

One by one, the captains entered their boats, to be stabbed in the back of their necks with a knife. It all went very smoothly, until about three quarters of the way through the port.

A stifled cry was heard in the port, and the Unsullied improvised. They swiped at the ship captains on the docks, and many were killed immediately. Those few who escaped to their ships, were quickly scuttled.

Then, the sailors began to come out of the closest tavern to see what the commotion was about, many were drunk, but when they found weapons at their chests, many of them stopped. Others attempted to keep going, and were also stopped. Some died.

Then, the city watch finally arrived. They saw Vahlshallan soldiers, had taken over their own docks, and had taken over their boats as well. The man nearly had a heart attack in relief, when he figured out who the soldiers were.

"Armoricans and Dumonans! Thank the gods you have arrived! I suppose we are once more under our rightful king now?" The Lieutenant of the Unsullied answered him. "Yes. However, the king wants you to patrol the lands around Veneta, and look for any Faithful stragglers. The rumours you have been hearing are true. The armies of the Faith are smashed, and the only one in our way now is Danyaria. Tommorow, Dunia in Dumonos will also be liberated after all this time." The Lieutenant turned around, and all of the Druidic soldiers jumped onto the Curraghs, and sailed for Condate.

In Dunia, the Unsullied embarked at the docks, and were treated with pure hostility due to their armor and banners. They quickly took the ships, and then put on their proper uniforms. Finally, the Dumonans of Dunia greeted the Armoricans as long lost friends. The Armoricans feasted that night with the newly freed Dumonans, and then hired some of them to crew the Vahlshallan ships in the harbor.

Morn was the most interesting, and heavily focused expedition to steal the Vahlshallan ships. Captain Volon led the soldiers onto the docks from the fleet. they had managed to arrive before news of the defeat of the Vahlshallan army had arrived to Ostava. Still, no one questioned the Vahlshallan soldiers landing in the port of Morn. Morn was just as important of a port as any other port city, and if the Vahlshallan soldiers wanted to march to the front, then so be it.

There would be three wings to the attack, and would be yet again another night attack, this one from the inside. 2000 Soldiers were spread in groups throughout the port and along strategic roads when the ships began to be captured. The cawing of a raven was heard, and the attack began. Many of the ships in the harbour were taken, yet not all of them could be taken in time. The ones that could not be taken had been scuttled before they arrived, the Faithful sailors trying to minimalize their losses, one less ship the enemy takes, is one less ship your people will have to fight later.

The sailors were caught one the docks, and all of them were killed. A few Armorican soldiers were pushed into the Ocean, of which a couple were able to escape the waters and survive. The Druidic fleet sailed away, headed for Condate.

When the new Armorican fleet reached the shores of Armorica, people from all over the nation signed up. The majority of the Western Faithful fleet was in Armorican hands, as the fleet began to once more provide protection for Armorica and Dumonos.

Before the Campaign Continued.
"What do I do with you?" Caedmon halfheartedly asked the now limp form of the Red Prophet. "Somehow, you had escaped your chains. Why, Why would you kill those Unsullied like that?"
Caedmon walked over to the Red Prophet, and held up it's chin. "You do not look mad, when you are unconscious, yet you are." Caedmon dropped the Red Prophet to the ground once more. "What should I do with you?"
Caedmon thought for a while. "I know just where to send you. Soldiers! Take this filth away. You will soon escort it to the Iron Lances, and the world of the Faith, will now know the real occurrences in Vahlshallah and the Beurtgang empire." The red prophet was dragged out, and it's head hit the post, knocking it deeper into unconsciousness.
Caedmon sat down, and unfurled his paper and ink.
Finally, after this many years, there was solid evidence proving the Red Faith existed in places of power in the Northern Nations of the Faith.
I, King Caedmon, offer your organization a proposal. The Northern Faithful, have generally fallen to the influence of the Red Faith...
He walked up to one of his two ravens, and tied the message to it's leg. "Go south until you see this castle." He pointed at a map of Nessos. "Look. This castle, is your destination. Remember." He then released the bird, and it went South.

The Red Faith was doomed as the escort was established. The Red Prophet, with the remaining Teufela leaf, once Caedmon managed to convince the guards to touch it, were placed into hide bags. The expedition left for the headquarters of the Iron Lances, and Caedmon walked over to the assembling army of Dumonos.

Caedmon walked up to the front of the Dumonos army. "Those who wish to stay, step forward, " Several stepped forward. "Those who do not wish to stay, stay and listen to me. Our lands and your lands will never be safe as long as the Red Faith remains a threat. We can completely break them. I need your support though. The Beurtgang and Vahlshallans are without honour. Let us show them what happens to the honourless! Let us take the battle to the East! Let us crush the threat that is the Red Faith, the largest threat to all of the known world. Will you fight for me in the greatest hour of both of our lands?" "Yes!" a myriad of voices announced. "Then step forward, those who will remain!" most stepped forward, yet some stayed in the back. "Good. Go to your homelands, those who do not wish to stay. Go to Dumonos. Defend it from the Woad, defend it from the Faith. The rest of you, follow me, our work is far from over."

When the guards arrived in Nessos, an air of hostility hung on them from all of the commoners, even the children stared at them in hate. They dragged the writhing form of the Red Prophet, who was trying to break it's chains, that four Unsullied held it in towards the Head Quarters of the Iron Lances. The other Unsullied marched up the steps of the spire and dropped the bags of Teufela Leaf onto the stones in front of the door, and at the feet of Fellip. "This herb was found on the bodies of the Vahlshallans, at the battle of Spear Lake. at that battle, we managed to capture their General, and this thing." He pointed at the Red Prophet and then returned to normal. "It is obvious the ravens have reached you, so we will now put this thing into your custody." The Unsullied Commander then looked at the Red Prophet with malice. "I hope this is enough proof for you, that we have only been trying to destroy the Red Faith." At that, the Unsullied turned, and left the city.


OOC: Story flood!

From Vahlshallah
To the Iron Lances;

You have betrayed our hospitality, our kindness, our respect; you side with those that would harm Keltia and our nations. You will suffer for this. Hereby saying so, your order is a heretic organization that will be quashed out of existence. The new Iron Lances will be headed by the son of Oscar of Nessos, son of Omar the Ninth, and he will bind the Iron and the Red together. The Grey Faith marches with us, and you will do best to rescind your words before the storm of the East smashes upon your forces and eliminates you all.

I'll give you one last chance before I break your backs and kill you all and force your order to fall into ash. One last chance before your order is annihilated and the true Faithful that see the threat of the Druids reach out and silence you.

One last chance.

I advise you take it.

OOC: The King of Vahlshallah is still in Spire, and I have a story with Kurare escaping back to Vahlshallah via foot and ship. I would like to post it as I would have to throw out work otherwise.

Tycho said:

OOC: The King of Vahlshallah is still in Spire, and I have a story with Kurare escaping back to Vahlshallah via foot and ship. I would like to post it as I would have to throw out work otherwise.

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OOC: I was told by terrance that the king fled the battlefield with 750 spearmen, so I caught up and ambushed them.

Gem Hound said:

OOC: I was told by terrance that the king fled the battlefield with 750 spearmen, so I caught up and ambushed them.

Click to expand...

The King? Or general Kurare?

Blood and Iron


“Torr,” the king said softly. “We have lost all of our forces in the west. What do you have to say for yourself?

Torr drained the flagon of black beer easily, and slammed it down onto the massive table. The Royal Palace of Vahlshallah was quiet, with wind and rain lashing against the side of the building, and indeed over much of the Spire. He grimaced and adjusted a bandage over his left eye where an arrow had taken it out and two more on his left side where his armor had caught a Druid spear. “Not too much, to be honest my lord; I know that I failed in my mission to take and shatter the city of Condate under the boots of our men, and that I failed Vahlshallah. If you are going to bring out a headsman to deal with me and my family for this failure, go ahead and kill me, but spare them. I know that I messed up horribly, and I deserve whatever I get.”

Sirius, ninth of his name, frowned and tapped the table with his fingers lightly. “What of the Red Prophet?”

“Dead, or near enough makes no difference. The entire bloody camp was on fire, Vaitus was probably the cause of that, we could have used him to better use than that, but that bloody bastard did what he did and I can’t change anything of that. Three thousand spears though… shattered by the treachery of the Armorican and Dumonan men. I should have known that they wouldn’t attack our camp in force without the necessary troops and leaders around, but I was a bloody fool. And so we lost two thirds of our force and the rest scattered back to Woad to try and scrounge up more troops for war. Wish we had the twenty thousand spears that crushed Dumonos; that would certainly turn the tide of this thrice damned, bloody war on its side.”

“What happened to him?”

“Who, the prophet?”

“No, your bloody mother, Torr; of course the Prophet, who else do you think I am talking about? What happened to him?”

“Told you already; dead, or near enough. He took a half a dozen arrows to his chest and had half a spear in his shoulder blade, and his Red Guard members were hurtling down the hill in rage at the Unsullied grouped below. More than likely he’s rotting in some ditch in the Frankish kingdoms at this point, or dying in some grove. He wouldn’t have allowed himself to be captured, that’s for damn certain.”

Sirius sighed and flattened his palms against the table. The wind howled its horrid cry and rain drove itself against the stone walls of the palace. “This will not be welcomed by the Red Faith. The Greys are stirring as well; they are calling for Nessos to be burned to the ground, and the Violet Faith is not happy to say the least with the Iron Lances. The Martyrs and others are organizing and growing more powerful, and the teufela leaf is passed around. This insurrection by the Iron Lances is not being received well, and we have to deal with this, as best possible, and with the Dragon Horde to our west, and the Teuts rising in the South, I am wary of what to do next.”

Torr laughed. “You’re worried about them? They won’t care, they’ll all just sign up to be blessed Martyrs and Fanatics and Zealots, fighting till the end to avenge their beloved leader… second one I might add. The first Red Prophet’s been dead forty years, and his son only became it after we smashed into Armorica. With the Iron Lances shattered against the Daughters of the Trinity, we have our bloody work cut out for us for the next few years… or rather, my replacement does.”

“You won’t be going anywhere, friend.”

“Eh? And why’s that? I’m certainly not going back into battle again.”

“You are the best general that we have so far. The other twelve pale in comparison to you.”

“Didn’t do my men a whole lot of bloody good when we got ambushed.”

“Don’t worry; you won’t be leading spears this time. I have something different in mind for you, my friend.”

Torr massaged the bandage where his eye had once been. “Royal Guard, I assume?”

“You assume correctly; spearmen are nice and all, but we do need a lot more of our favored Royal Guard out on the front line forming a strong core to our army; they won’t break as easily, and will hold till the end of time if need be. Versed in spear, sword, bow, axe, dagger, and mounted combat, they are the cream of the crop that we have so far. And until the militias are formed up by our new friend, you’ll be dealing with them.”

“Which new friend is this now?”

Sirius gave a coy look towards Torr. “With the Red Prophet dead in the west, we heard word about it months before you arrived back; needless to say, the Red Faith was already less than displeased with the matter of the majority of them not involved in the ‘cleansing of the heathens’ and starting rioting here and there. But now, they started having to decide on who needed to become the next Red Prophet. The Iron Lances have no leader either; Oscar of Nessos was slain with his father, Omar the Ninth in the vicious and bloody conflicts in the west. With this heinous traitor, Fellip, in Oscar’s rightful place, we have had no choice but to name him as the head of the Forsworn, the new Iron Lances that are loyal to ourselves, Beurtgang, and the Four Duchies.”

“So what are you getting at?”

“We have a candidate born of both the Iron Lances blood, and the blood of the Red Faith.”

Torr went slack jawed, staring incredulously at Sirius. “This is madness; there is no child that can be like that; the Iron Lances and the Red Faith have hated each other even when the first Omar became the leader of the Lances.”

“War brings unity amongst the unfriendly. Torr, meet our new Red Iron Prophet.”

The doors creaked open behind Sirius, revealing a man standing in smoky red and black armor fresh from the rain. A fanged helm with iron spikes flaring out of the back walked forward and knelt before the table.

“My lord; I am Malcolm, first of the Prophets that will follow. Do you fancy dragon hunting?”

Tycho said:

The King? Or general Kurare?

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I was told the Red Prophet and General Kurare were captured during the battle, and that the king had escaped.

Gem Hound said:

I was told the Red Prophet and General Kurare were captured during the battle, and that the king had escaped.

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Never wrote the king into the battle at all, for all intents and purposes, he's been at the Spire.

I reread the Tycho's battle story and I realized I've mistaken the position of the King. Call me a great idiot, I deserve it. D: The King isn't there.

EDIT: IMHO I would see the Gray Faith keep fighting for the sake of Honor, while assisting the Iron Faith if they come to cleanse the Reds. I would see the Violet Faith attempt to migrate en-mass for Paradise to avoid what they spent their lives studying form happening again. The Martyrs and Reds are very close together, though.

Also, say what you will about Fellip being illegitimate, but he has held the organization of the Iron Lancers from COMPLETE UTTER collapse after its core armies are destroyed, and he has passed the necessary tests and challenges by the Priests.

Terrance888 said:

I reread the Tycho's battle story and I realized I've mistaken the position of the King. Call me a great idiot, I deserve it. D: The King isn't there.

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Okay, story deleted. Editing the rest.

Terrance888 said:

I reread the Tycho's battle story and I realized I've mistaken the position of the King. Call me a great idiot, I deserve it. D: The King isn't there.

EDIT: IMHO I would see the Gray Faith keep fighting for the sake of Honor, while assisting the Iron Faith if they come to cleanse the Reds. I would see the Violet Faith attempt to migrate en-mass for Paradise to avoid what they spent their lives studying form happening again. The Martyrs and Reds are very close together, though.

Also, say what you will about Fellip being illegitimate, but he has held the organization of the Iron Lancers from COMPLETE UTTER collapse after its core armies are destroyed, and he has passed the necessary tests and challenges by the Priests.

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Bloody hell, I could have propped up their damn armies with cash, or been pinged with an offer, but god no; instead they turned on me. I'd be willing to negotiate a deal with them to remake their core armies if they would like to admit that there is a greater enemy in the Dragon Horde right now, and provide the necessary materials.

EDIT: On second thought, I might leave after this round and cool my heels elsewhere since after these horrible setbacks I am finding it hard to care anymore about Keltia. If indeed I do leave and decide to boomerang back in, I might pick up Vahlshallah again or pick up a new nation.