End of Empires - N3S III

You telling me I wrote all those combat orders just for naught? :(

dude, that's mean. Seriously, mean.
 
OOC: For supposed effect, listen to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFLMLHPVhaw while reading.


Fall from Grace, part 1.

The city of Epichrisi, Year 207 SR.

The King was standing in the harbour, watching as more and more men were boarding the ships heading to Dinyart. He stood silent, firm, with a calm look at his face. With a distant gaze in his eyes he watched as ranks of Opulensi soldiers marched the docks and disappeared to the depths of countless galleys. It was a hot day, and the blazing sun burned the necks of the armoured bodyguards around him. The soldiers tried to hold their composure in the face of their King, but none could do it like he did. Like a statue made of stone, he stood.

"My King, the last ships are soon ready to sail. With them, the Daharai you requested."

For the first time, King lowered his gaze. Slowly he turned to face the messenger. The man he was looking at was tall, dark haired soldier at the height of his strenght, bearing heavy armor and holding a helmet decorated with seagull's feathers in his right hand, marking him as a general of Opulensi army.

"Thank you, Daros" - King replied and turned to watch the ships sailing out of the harbour.

"With a cheer on their face they boarded the ships, waving goodbyes to their wives and children, and with promises of quick return once the war is won..." - The King paused, sighing, and then continued:

"I wonder... I wonder if any of them realise, that none of them will ever be returning to the soil of their beloved homeland..."

"They are priviledged men, to be able to march into battle and prove their themselves. Through their blades thousands of our enemies will fall, and it is enlightement that is awaiting for them, if they are deemed worthy." - Daros replied in confident, warm voice.

"I fear that they will not be the only ones who will have to prove themselves in combat, because in the end, Dinyart will fall. And once it does, the last small buffer between our homeland and our enemies is gone." - King replied with a distant, melancholic voice.

"Should it happen, we will be ready, my King. We will face our enemy in battle and make them pay with their lives for their incursion to our homeland." - Daros replied again with the same confident voice.

"Yes, we do. But for each soldier your men smite down, they will bring 3 more to take his place." - King replied and turned back to Daros, continuing;

"We march to battle, but not to victory. There is only so much a man can do when the odds are stacked against him..." - King fell silent for a moment, staring to the confident eyes of Daros, then returning his gaze back to the leaving ships before continuing;

"Oh why I must live through these tough times, to see the fall of the nation my farthers have built for my people. To see our land ravaged by foreigners, it's forests burned, it's farmlands stomped, it's cities pillaged, it's people slaughtered like a cattle. I have failed the legacy of my fathers, and for that, there is no enlightement for me to gain, no way for me to join all my fathers in thereafter."

"My King, you have done all in your power to save your father's legacy. You will make our enemies pay tenfold for each blow they deal to us, and that is something our enemies will remember for the centuries to come. Your rule will be remembered, and your actions as a man who did all he could against impossible odds to protect his people will gain you enlightement. Of this, I have no doupt." - Daros replied in warm, reassuring voice.

"It is yet to be seen..." - King said, then continuing after a brief pause: "Any news about retraining?"

"A message arrived from the Daharai in Ormiskos. They are making steady progress." - Daros replied.

King nodded and watched at the last couple ships left the docks. For a moment, there was no sound other than wind blowing at the rooftops of the city, and the cry of a seagull far above them. As the last ships disappeared into the horizon, King turned to leave, and said to Daros:

" Come. There is still much work to do before the end..."
 
Anyway, North King, if you do update my manpower for the purposes of this update, hopefully that should be taken into consideration with regards to my assorted secondary mobilisation efforts as detailed in the orders, because as you might understand I would want any troops I could get.
 
Nahari Empire orders sent ~ sorry for the delay :(

People trashed the college computer room so it was locked up all weekend...
 
Fall from Grace, Part 2.​

Plains, somewhere at the western Opulensi coastline, year 218 SR.

"Damned rain and mud..." - a man cursed under his breath. "This message was to be delivered at all possible haste, but here I am pulling this accursed chariot out of this stinking mud yet again!"

"Save your breath and pull!" - another man answered. After few minutes of hard labor, the chariot had been lifted from the mud, accompanied by few more curses.

"Get here allready. We must be on our way!" - a soldier with an armor decorated in the shape of seagull's wings yelled. He was Araios, a sergeant of the royal navy. The other man, named Erestion, was from the local garrison from a small town in northwestern opulensi.

"Handling these animals is something far different than rowing a boat, sailor! Wait until I've checked the reins."

In a moment, the squabbling men were on their way again. They had been travelling for a day and a night in a one go, only stopping once to change their horses. Now, their journey was soon coming to an end.

"Look. Old campsites." - said Araios, pointing at the plains in front of them. " The main army must be close."

"Finally. I'm so fed up by this mission. I'll be glad to get rid of that stench of sea you are carrying with youself." - Erestion replied with clear contempt.

"Do remember which one of us is of higher rank. I'll have you punished for mocking a superior officer if you carry on." - Araios replied quickly with cold and determined voice. "And do not despise the royal fleet. Serving on the ships requires much more than just swinging a sword, which is all you do."

"And how much did this grand fleet accomplish now that we think of it?" - Erestion replied swiftly.

Araios fell silent, and after a brief moment he replied: "Just drive."

They rode on for another hour. Rain had stopped, and the skies were becoming clear again. Setting sun releaved itself in the west. In the last rays of the sunset they finally arrived at the army camp at the foot of a large hill. At the entrance of the camp, they were halted by a guard.

"State your business" - the guard said with cold, harsh voice.

"I am sergeant Araios of the Royal fleet. I have a message to the general from the grand admiral." Araios showed the guard the official message bearing the seal of the grand admiral himself.

"Very well, you may enter. You'll find general near the top of the hill, at the eastern slope. Let them pass!"

As the men entered the camp, they saw countless rows of tents on their both sides. Hundreds, at least thousands of men could be seen around them. Each passing soldier Araios could see was seemingly nervous. Erestion noted this too.

"The battle is close it seems." - Erestion said, now with a voice without contempt. Instead, it was replaced by the restlessness shared by the men around him.

Araios stayed quiet.

As they neared the top of the hill, Araios looked down to the camp where they came from. Now he could see it was far bigger than it had first seemed. A massive army, the whole strenght of Opulensi miltiary had been gathered here. As Araios continued to marvel in the sight of such force, Erestion woke him up from his dream by poking him with his elbow and pointing at the ranks of soldiers now in front of them.

"Look at their armor. They are no ordinary soldiers... are they - "

" - Daharai. The King's personal elite guard. And the man on the horse must be Daros..." - Araios replied with a voice indicating of great reverence. "Stop the chariot."

Araios dismounted and started walking towards the general. As the bodyguards stopped him, he showed the sealed message and continued. Then, he was standing next just next to the General. Daros, the legend himself.

"Sir... I bring message from grand admiral of the royal fleet. He - "

"The fleet is destroyed, is it not?" - Daros interrupted him. His voice was calm and steady, as if he couldn't care less of the news Araios brought him.

"...Yes, it is, sir. Only few dozen ships managed to escape. The enemy is landing troops just few days march away in the north." As Araios had said this, he examined the face of Daros carefully. He couldn't notice a single reaction in the man's face. They both remained still, Daros looking at the valley in front of him, Araios at the general.

After a while, Daros nodded and said: " Thank you. You may take your leave. Go rest, as I will have a message for you to deliver back."

"Yes sir." Araios saluted, turned and marched away.

Daros remained quiet and gazed again at the valley in front of him. The sun had almost set, and with the last remaining rays of light Daros could see the enemy camp just few miles away.

"The navy destroyed..." - A man beside him said in a familiar melancholic voice.

"It was to be expected." - Daros replied to the King.

King sighed. "I know. But it doesn't make it any easier."

"By landing troops behind us, they will try to pincer us down here. Not that it wasn't expected, I would have done the same thing in their part." - Daros replied with confident voice.

"Our fate is catching up on us. Soon, the battle to resolve this all will take place... and then we will see if I have done enough..." King said, staring at the enemy camp.

Daros glanzed at the King, and for the first time man could see a faint smile on his face.

As the sun finally set behind the horizon, darkness crept over the land and countless fires were lit in both camps. That night, there was little sleep for the soldiers of either side...
 
Well, I've had trouble working on it since I got back to school; things are pretty intense here. I'll see what I can do...
 
That's probably like 1/20th of minimum wage, man. :p Don't worry, it will get done eventually, but I make no guarantees as to when.
 
I equally would paypal money for NESing
 
Troubles Abound

Trefain Perof winced, rubbing his temples and leaning back in his chair. What times were these for him to lead his Faeoria? In the past few months, there had been madmen from the north bearing the direst portents of doom- as if the Faeriouhaouans were not trouble enough. General Maeriouhau had come to warn of a plot by his own Faeoria to take over the council- a ridiculous notion- powerful though they are, they remain utterly dependent on the support of the smaller Faeoria, such as his own. Regardless of this, Faerafaen Maeriouhau- not that he could really claim that name anymore, as Lady Ryelaei had cast him out of the Faeoria for his words- had certainly convinced a few of the more paranoid members of the council, as evidenced by the betrayal of the Aramsayafa.

Trefain was considered to be a rational and practical man- an ideal representative of his proud, if small Faeoria Perof, natives of the southern coast and Trilui border. But now? It was as half the council was now filled with hotheaded fools! Rabble-rousers like the old general, impulsive rebels like the young Raenacu Aramsayafa, leading his own army off to fight in distant lands against the Satar.

Augh, but what a mess the Aramsayafa betrayal had been, and continued to be. A Faeoria acting independently, in direct opposition to the known and stated will of Council and king? It was unprecedented! What would the Faronun be if every Faeoria acted on every whim without first agreeing on shared courses of action in the council? A disunited coalition of thousands of statelets, that’s what!

Trefain’s internal rant came to a simmering conclusion, and he rose back into a sitting position to see a Faerouhaiaouan representative making a rant of his own about the ‘invasion’ of Faron by the refugees fleeing the Satar. Damn close-minded uplanders, they should know as well as everyone else that Faron was founded by people fleeing enslavement- that enslaver didn’t have to be the Hu’ut to give their plight legitimacy. Besides, the Faronun had not begun as a single ethnicity- and look at the Hamakuans! It would be a lengthy search indeed to find a descendant of those who had fled that collapse who now identified with that long-dead nation. At any rate, the behaviour of the Faerouhaiaouans had been increasingly troubling as of late- fortifying their mountain cities and acting with increasing hostility to the people settling in their ‘ark’. Mild annoyance towards the desire of some people (being exceptionally concerned with the threat of the Satar) to move into more easily defensible lands was understandable, but the Faerouhaiaouan response of violence and hostility was utterly unwarranted. The fact that military force was nearly applied made the situation that much more serious.

It seemed that the only sane Faerouhaiaouans left were the Maeriouhau- though they had different problems of their own.

Trefain would seldom even admit it even within his conscious mind, but there was something distinctly troubling afoot with the Maeriouhau. That someone would give up everything just to warn of a conspiracy could reveal the vast depth of its severity- or to the withered mental capacities of a worn-out general. He sympathized too with the actions of the Aramsayafa, even though he would not dare to do the same- he was wise enough to know that their actions would either be judged in the future as the bold actions of heroes who went against the orders of their superiors, or the delusional campaign of a war-happy youth who brought ruin to his own nation.

Shelving these thoughts again in the library of his mind, Trefain rose to speak in response to the bigoted Faerouhaiaouan- though he was not a man of decisive actions, there were some words which he could not tolerate to hear spoken without correction. It was in the war of words that his greatest strengths revealed themselves.

Whether or not such talents would be enough to save Faron remained to be seen.
 
A confirmation of the assumption made in my previous post would be appreciated; anyway, am gloating.
 
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