Kyzarc Fotjage
Rise Up
sorry for bringing this back to life even temporarily, but with Immac's approval I wrote an epilogue for my nation and characters. Enjoy
Spoiler :
Council
22 years later
Fellow members of the Council of Eastern Barsaive, I bring foreboding tidings. We have fought of the Patrian slavers for near century, slowly growing stronger as they weakened. Their allies, the Pilsetans and the Uldari, have been defanged. The mighty Throalic navy is retaking the seas from the Patrian galleons. We have victory in our grasp. While western Barsaive has ripped itself in half, the Palitane and Utilican forces fending off the Scions, Tabba Ghut, and Kraz, we are facing the very real possibility of peace. Keep all that in mind while I present a message that the Patrians sent us only a week past, a message that could change our relationship entirely. Sharad raised his hands, making a box from his fingers. The image of a bedraggled man appeared above the Council, his Patrian heritage obvious in the lines of his jaw and his almond colored eyes. He began to speak slowly, his voice distant.
Our home continent, Patria itself, has been overwhelmed by the beings known as Thorned Ones. They are the corrupted descendants of the Elves on the eastern continent, servants of the Lady in Pain. We beg for your help in freeing our home, if the Thorned Ones get their hands on the Stolen Tomes there will be dire consequences for us all. There are rituals described in those books that could bring about another Scourge, one far worse then what we have barely endured before. They must be stopped. Please, for all our sakes, save us. and the image faded
This could easily be another trick by the Patrians, trying to lure our armies into a trap. But if theyre right... How does the Council vote?
Thorns
Eight years later
Sharad looked over his city, watching the distant glint of steel as the massive army of Dark Dwarves and Thorned Ones destroyed the pathetic remnant of the once-mighty Achatin. It was truly over. The Council chose to ignore the Patrians warning, continuing their campaign against the Patrians. Their forces were occupying Sky Point when They came. Half the fleet was destroyed in the long retreat that followed. The Thorned Ones came next to Achat, driving back the increasingly desperate Achatin forces under the command of Pathos. The return of Glamdrin and the main army wasnt the turning point that the Achatin had prayed for, only managing to delay the inevitable defeat by a month or two. The capital has been besieged for three months now, the cannons of the enemy tearing down the walls far faster then the defenders could repair.
Glamdrin burst onto the balcony. Weve got to leave. The city is lost. We still have control of the Western Gate, we can fight our way out and into the hills. A guerrilla war in the countryside could last years if were cautious.
You go. Ill do what I can do here, maybe buy some time. Sharad turned his head to Alari, his ever-present support. Go with him. You must be safe
Alari jerked away No! We were separated once by Ceridwens armies. It will not happen again! I wont let-
الذهاب! أحبك ، اذا كنت يموت ثم كلانا يموت. تقرر مصير بلادي ، لك لا تزال خالية Sharad interrupted.
Alari looked down, a tear falling ولكن... نعم. لقد وجدنا بعضها البعض من قبل ، وسنفعل ذلك مرة أخرى She embraced Sharad briefly
Sharad smiled sadly, If only. But GO! and he pushed her into Glamdrins arms.
He watched them as they hurried through the streets. He brushed away a stray tear and turned back to the palace, there was work to do.
Six years later
The Thorned Ones have ruled us with an iron fist for over half a decade now. Every day we hear word of their victories in Pilseta and Uldar spread. Throals pleas for help have yet to be answered, the Easterners remain in their bubble, confident that since they beat off the Thorned Ones once that they can do so again. Quite frankly, were losing and losing badly. If we keep fighting then we will probably die, crushed under these latest minions of the Lady of Pain. They will kill us slowly and painfully, drawing out each moment into a decade. But if we surrender then they will still kill us, just as slowly. They will torture our children and our childrens children. Not only that but our souls will be forfeit, doomed to serve the Lady of Pain even after death. Do not despair, there is always hope. We have allies in the capital, friends among the Dark Dwarves, and Throal remains free. Even now Alari and others are coordinating our efforts with orcish and elvish resistance cells. Most of all we have the Goddess of Mercy, Lady Sirona, on our side. Remember, we are not alone. We will fight on. We are the mountain. Glamdrin pointed an arm at the distant silhouette of Mount Achat. The rebels cheered wildly.
Glamdrin poured over the maps in front of him. He pointed at one of them Send the slingers there, the convoy will ripe for the plucking.
An aide scribbled this down If it isnt too forward, how do you know all this?
Glamdrin grinned We have friends left. Not all those who dwell in the ruins of Achat have given in to their fate
How do you know they can be trusted?
I have faith. This particular source hates the Lady-in-Pain more then any other I know of. He would not help their worshippers unless it put him in a position to do them a great deal of harm.
Sharad bowed to Calaufein, the governor that Chief Warlord Dipvyll had left in charge of Achat. Milord Calaufein, I bring more news. The terrorists in the eastern hills have pillaged the supply caravan. There were no survivors.
Calaufein sighed. Thats the fifth in the past three months! They have to have a source. I want you to hunt the leak down and bring him before me.
Yes milord. Is there anything else?
No. Sharad turned and started to walk away but Calaufein called out again. Stop. Why are you doing this? Why help us? We conquered your lands, killed your people. You should be out there with the rebels or out west, away from our mighty army. Why stay?
Sharad smiled secretively I have a great deal of interest in the Lady. Your people are the most closely attuned Ive seen beings be to her and still be coherent. Im fascinated.
Calaufein looked at him intently for a few moments before shrugging. You may go.
Five years later
The immense armies of all Western Barsaive had arrived just as the Thorned Ones had broken the Throalic Shield, the nickname for the united Throalic, Kraz, and Baalic forces. Together they destroyed the Thorned One army at the Battle of Seventh Vale. They marched through Uldar, now being assisted by the Uldaran guerrillas. They turned south, methodically retaking the cities of Renegade, Pilseta, and Jalsafar. They turned to the biggest Thorned stronghold left on the continent, Achat.
Sharad crept through the palace, the others had finally come. The armies were a day away, he would have to act fast. There, the labs were just ahead. Good, they were still empty. The mages were still out preparing the citys defenses. He quickly swept to the rear of the large room, opening a cabinet in the back. He rummaged through the bottles, pulling out one labeled Moveit 11. A blood-red liquid swirled slowly inside,
He smiled humorlessly Body Essence, excellent and wrenched off its cork. He could hear people coming down the hallway, the mages must be coming back. He swung the vial up and drunk deeply, emptying it. He tossed back his head and screamed, his body contorting into bizarre shapes. His arm flew out and scattered the other bottles across the floor, shattering the fragile glass. Black smoke welled up from the mixing reagents, obscuring the scene.
Farrysn, mage of the Third Secret and priestess of the Lady, was having a bad day. She was forced away from her precious research to help construct the walls. That was what they had the maleït gnomes and dwarves for! They werent even allowed to properly discipline the slaves, having to keep them alive for work. Her holy magics were being wasted on moving mere rocks. The power to rip apart dimensions and tear holes in reality being used to build a freaking wall. It was demeaning, thats what it was. At least her shift was over and she would be able to check on her experiments before sleep. Her thoughts were interrupted by a horrifying scream from the labs. Her head jerked up and a slight smile touched her lips. Something horrible was happening to someone. She ran down the corridor, her fellow magi falling in behind. She slowed to stop just outside the door to the labs, motioning her fellows to keep quiet. A quick spell later and a sword appeared in her hand. Her smile spread.
The door creaked open, smoke billowing out. There was dead silence, no sound from within. Farrysn waved at Fildaer, her second. Fildaer moved towards the door like a whisper and peered into the mist. There was a blur and she was dragged inside. There was a scream which was cut off almost instantly. Fildaers smile grew larger, something that could put up a fight. She threw herself into the room. The adepts moved in with a bit more caution, also adopting battle-stances. They peered around the room, the thinning fog making everything eerie and blurred.
A familiar voice came from towards the back, it was that insufferable servant. That was more painful then I had thought it would be, but I cant complain. Some people to kill already, what luck! And here I thought Id have to hunt you all down one by one.
Her smile turned into a full-fledged smirk. Ooh, ooh, is this really happening? I really hope this is. Ive wanting to kill you since we invaded, you miserable leech. She motioned at the back of the room. Your allies are coming and you think that theyll win. You want them to think that you were on their side the entire time so youre going to backstab us. You know what I think of traitors like that? and she dropped her arm. The entire back of the room became a whirling maelstrom of raw magical power as eight different spells struck it at the same time. The chaos died down seconds later, leaving the area devastated.
That, my students, is how you deal with... her voice faded as a quiet laugh, almost a chuckle, became apparent. There was a blur and one of her students literally snapped in half, something hitting his spine hard enough that his body folded around the object. There was another blur and another mage collapsed.
I must say, youre peoples grasp of magic is most impressive. Its almost as expansive as youre ego. You honestly think that you can rule without understanding your subjects. That you can simply ignore those who appear to be on your side. I should have been executed the day you invaded, not given the governors ear. Now I know where your soldiers are, what magical research you have made, what your weaknesses are. and more adepts collapsed, their fellows spinning wildly with spells readied on their fingers but no target. It was over moments later, ending with Sharad standing over Fildaers beaten body.
She coughed and spat blood So what, youre going to kill all us by your lonesome?
Sharad grinned No, Im going to keep some of you alive. There are some things that I havent been able to learn from mere observation, things only a priestess would know. and he clubbed her in the head. There was a blur and he was gone. Eight down, three hundred to go.
The army of the Eastern Barsaivian Alliance had reached the city. There was almost none of the resistance that they had expected, only a few Dark Dwarven pickets. In front of the city they could see the recently constructed fortifications, all empty. The armies marched onto the gates, the eerie silence spooking the myriad soldiers. The gates swung open, revealing a lone figure. It was Sharad, blood dripping from half a dozen wounds and his right arm completely soaked in crimson. He bowed as his greatly amplified voice rang out.
The city of Achat welcomes our liberators. We have killed the Thorned Ones in anticapation of your arrival. Join us and be merry.
A month later
Sharad wiped blood off his hands, the seventh prisoner had finally caved and told him how to communicate with Lady Ceridwen. The ritual itself was simple, only requiring a few ounces of mouse blood and a torn contract as a focus. No wonder priesthood was so popular, there was practically no work required. All smoke and mirrors.
Sharad chanted from the center of a small circle, red glyphs swirling around him as he said each word. אלת הכאב, לשמוע את הטיעון שלי.
והכוונה היא זקוקה, אני לא יכול לראות
אני מבקש ממך למועצה אותי
As the last syllable joined the floating symbols around him a small light appeared. A feminine voice, hinting of forgotten mysteries and stars far distant, spoke. And who would you be? Youre not one of my priests nor one of my chosen people.
Sharad spoke quickly Milady, I am merely a gnome who seeks to serve you. The armies of Barsaive are preparing to invade Patria, putting the Tomes of Oghma out of your Thorned Ones reach. I believe that with your help I can ensure that they will fall into the hands of those who will put them to their proper use. I will need your help to keep those books out of the hands of your enemies.
People of Barsaive, it is with greatest pride that I announce that the newly formed High Council has voted six to two to send an expeditionary force to Patria. They will drive the Thorned Ones back to their ruined homeland and free them from Ceridwens curse. Righteousness is on our side. We cannot fail in this holiest of missions.
The mighty fleet sailed out from the newly rebuilt Sky Point. Over a thousand ships carrying millions of soldiers drawn from across Barsaive. Tabba Ghut galleons, Elven kalaels, Throalic carraks, all with a single purpose. The Kraz even managed to send a few of their experimental skyships. Not since the heyday of Patria has such a sight been seen.
The battle for Patria has raged for seven months now and the Thorned Ones have steadily been driven back. A massive battle was being waged in the city itself, the Patrians and Barsaivians both throwing everything they had at the Catacomb Libralus, trying to retake the central saferoom before the defenses surrounding the Tomes collapsed entirely. This push was led by the Achatin, White Elven, and Scionic forces. Schist was the sole survivor of his unit of mages, the rest were slaughtered by a horror summoned from some distant realm. The lockroom was on the verge of opening, but there was nothing he could do about it. The room was far too well guarded. He watched as a dozen white elf swordsmen ran past and fell in behind, maybe they would provide the distraction he needed?
Sharad glanced at the glowing circle in his lab, one of his mages had finally reached the books. There was a brilliant flash as an immense tome materialized in the center, quickly followed by a dozen others. He rushed over and dispelled the circle of runes, the books were his and the alliance none the wiser.
22 years later
Fellow members of the Council of Eastern Barsaive, I bring foreboding tidings. We have fought of the Patrian slavers for near century, slowly growing stronger as they weakened. Their allies, the Pilsetans and the Uldari, have been defanged. The mighty Throalic navy is retaking the seas from the Patrian galleons. We have victory in our grasp. While western Barsaive has ripped itself in half, the Palitane and Utilican forces fending off the Scions, Tabba Ghut, and Kraz, we are facing the very real possibility of peace. Keep all that in mind while I present a message that the Patrians sent us only a week past, a message that could change our relationship entirely. Sharad raised his hands, making a box from his fingers. The image of a bedraggled man appeared above the Council, his Patrian heritage obvious in the lines of his jaw and his almond colored eyes. He began to speak slowly, his voice distant.
Our home continent, Patria itself, has been overwhelmed by the beings known as Thorned Ones. They are the corrupted descendants of the Elves on the eastern continent, servants of the Lady in Pain. We beg for your help in freeing our home, if the Thorned Ones get their hands on the Stolen Tomes there will be dire consequences for us all. There are rituals described in those books that could bring about another Scourge, one far worse then what we have barely endured before. They must be stopped. Please, for all our sakes, save us. and the image faded
This could easily be another trick by the Patrians, trying to lure our armies into a trap. But if theyre right... How does the Council vote?
Thorns
Eight years later
Sharad looked over his city, watching the distant glint of steel as the massive army of Dark Dwarves and Thorned Ones destroyed the pathetic remnant of the once-mighty Achatin. It was truly over. The Council chose to ignore the Patrians warning, continuing their campaign against the Patrians. Their forces were occupying Sky Point when They came. Half the fleet was destroyed in the long retreat that followed. The Thorned Ones came next to Achat, driving back the increasingly desperate Achatin forces under the command of Pathos. The return of Glamdrin and the main army wasnt the turning point that the Achatin had prayed for, only managing to delay the inevitable defeat by a month or two. The capital has been besieged for three months now, the cannons of the enemy tearing down the walls far faster then the defenders could repair.
Glamdrin burst onto the balcony. Weve got to leave. The city is lost. We still have control of the Western Gate, we can fight our way out and into the hills. A guerrilla war in the countryside could last years if were cautious.
You go. Ill do what I can do here, maybe buy some time. Sharad turned his head to Alari, his ever-present support. Go with him. You must be safe
Alari jerked away No! We were separated once by Ceridwens armies. It will not happen again! I wont let-
الذهاب! أحبك ، اذا كنت يموت ثم كلانا يموت. تقرر مصير بلادي ، لك لا تزال خالية Sharad interrupted.
Alari looked down, a tear falling ولكن... نعم. لقد وجدنا بعضها البعض من قبل ، وسنفعل ذلك مرة أخرى She embraced Sharad briefly
Sharad smiled sadly, If only. But GO! and he pushed her into Glamdrins arms.
He watched them as they hurried through the streets. He brushed away a stray tear and turned back to the palace, there was work to do.
Six years later
The Thorned Ones have ruled us with an iron fist for over half a decade now. Every day we hear word of their victories in Pilseta and Uldar spread. Throals pleas for help have yet to be answered, the Easterners remain in their bubble, confident that since they beat off the Thorned Ones once that they can do so again. Quite frankly, were losing and losing badly. If we keep fighting then we will probably die, crushed under these latest minions of the Lady of Pain. They will kill us slowly and painfully, drawing out each moment into a decade. But if we surrender then they will still kill us, just as slowly. They will torture our children and our childrens children. Not only that but our souls will be forfeit, doomed to serve the Lady of Pain even after death. Do not despair, there is always hope. We have allies in the capital, friends among the Dark Dwarves, and Throal remains free. Even now Alari and others are coordinating our efforts with orcish and elvish resistance cells. Most of all we have the Goddess of Mercy, Lady Sirona, on our side. Remember, we are not alone. We will fight on. We are the mountain. Glamdrin pointed an arm at the distant silhouette of Mount Achat. The rebels cheered wildly.
Glamdrin poured over the maps in front of him. He pointed at one of them Send the slingers there, the convoy will ripe for the plucking.
An aide scribbled this down If it isnt too forward, how do you know all this?
Glamdrin grinned We have friends left. Not all those who dwell in the ruins of Achat have given in to their fate
How do you know they can be trusted?
I have faith. This particular source hates the Lady-in-Pain more then any other I know of. He would not help their worshippers unless it put him in a position to do them a great deal of harm.
Sharad bowed to Calaufein, the governor that Chief Warlord Dipvyll had left in charge of Achat. Milord Calaufein, I bring more news. The terrorists in the eastern hills have pillaged the supply caravan. There were no survivors.
Calaufein sighed. Thats the fifth in the past three months! They have to have a source. I want you to hunt the leak down and bring him before me.
Yes milord. Is there anything else?
No. Sharad turned and started to walk away but Calaufein called out again. Stop. Why are you doing this? Why help us? We conquered your lands, killed your people. You should be out there with the rebels or out west, away from our mighty army. Why stay?
Sharad smiled secretively I have a great deal of interest in the Lady. Your people are the most closely attuned Ive seen beings be to her and still be coherent. Im fascinated.
Calaufein looked at him intently for a few moments before shrugging. You may go.
Five years later
The immense armies of all Western Barsaive had arrived just as the Thorned Ones had broken the Throalic Shield, the nickname for the united Throalic, Kraz, and Baalic forces. Together they destroyed the Thorned One army at the Battle of Seventh Vale. They marched through Uldar, now being assisted by the Uldaran guerrillas. They turned south, methodically retaking the cities of Renegade, Pilseta, and Jalsafar. They turned to the biggest Thorned stronghold left on the continent, Achat.
Sharad crept through the palace, the others had finally come. The armies were a day away, he would have to act fast. There, the labs were just ahead. Good, they were still empty. The mages were still out preparing the citys defenses. He quickly swept to the rear of the large room, opening a cabinet in the back. He rummaged through the bottles, pulling out one labeled Moveit 11. A blood-red liquid swirled slowly inside,
He smiled humorlessly Body Essence, excellent and wrenched off its cork. He could hear people coming down the hallway, the mages must be coming back. He swung the vial up and drunk deeply, emptying it. He tossed back his head and screamed, his body contorting into bizarre shapes. His arm flew out and scattered the other bottles across the floor, shattering the fragile glass. Black smoke welled up from the mixing reagents, obscuring the scene.
Farrysn, mage of the Third Secret and priestess of the Lady, was having a bad day. She was forced away from her precious research to help construct the walls. That was what they had the maleït gnomes and dwarves for! They werent even allowed to properly discipline the slaves, having to keep them alive for work. Her holy magics were being wasted on moving mere rocks. The power to rip apart dimensions and tear holes in reality being used to build a freaking wall. It was demeaning, thats what it was. At least her shift was over and she would be able to check on her experiments before sleep. Her thoughts were interrupted by a horrifying scream from the labs. Her head jerked up and a slight smile touched her lips. Something horrible was happening to someone. She ran down the corridor, her fellow magi falling in behind. She slowed to stop just outside the door to the labs, motioning her fellows to keep quiet. A quick spell later and a sword appeared in her hand. Her smile spread.
The door creaked open, smoke billowing out. There was dead silence, no sound from within. Farrysn waved at Fildaer, her second. Fildaer moved towards the door like a whisper and peered into the mist. There was a blur and she was dragged inside. There was a scream which was cut off almost instantly. Fildaers smile grew larger, something that could put up a fight. She threw herself into the room. The adepts moved in with a bit more caution, also adopting battle-stances. They peered around the room, the thinning fog making everything eerie and blurred.
A familiar voice came from towards the back, it was that insufferable servant. That was more painful then I had thought it would be, but I cant complain. Some people to kill already, what luck! And here I thought Id have to hunt you all down one by one.
Her smile turned into a full-fledged smirk. Ooh, ooh, is this really happening? I really hope this is. Ive wanting to kill you since we invaded, you miserable leech. She motioned at the back of the room. Your allies are coming and you think that theyll win. You want them to think that you were on their side the entire time so youre going to backstab us. You know what I think of traitors like that? and she dropped her arm. The entire back of the room became a whirling maelstrom of raw magical power as eight different spells struck it at the same time. The chaos died down seconds later, leaving the area devastated.
That, my students, is how you deal with... her voice faded as a quiet laugh, almost a chuckle, became apparent. There was a blur and one of her students literally snapped in half, something hitting his spine hard enough that his body folded around the object. There was another blur and another mage collapsed.
I must say, youre peoples grasp of magic is most impressive. Its almost as expansive as youre ego. You honestly think that you can rule without understanding your subjects. That you can simply ignore those who appear to be on your side. I should have been executed the day you invaded, not given the governors ear. Now I know where your soldiers are, what magical research you have made, what your weaknesses are. and more adepts collapsed, their fellows spinning wildly with spells readied on their fingers but no target. It was over moments later, ending with Sharad standing over Fildaers beaten body.
She coughed and spat blood So what, youre going to kill all us by your lonesome?
Sharad grinned No, Im going to keep some of you alive. There are some things that I havent been able to learn from mere observation, things only a priestess would know. and he clubbed her in the head. There was a blur and he was gone. Eight down, three hundred to go.
The army of the Eastern Barsaivian Alliance had reached the city. There was almost none of the resistance that they had expected, only a few Dark Dwarven pickets. In front of the city they could see the recently constructed fortifications, all empty. The armies marched onto the gates, the eerie silence spooking the myriad soldiers. The gates swung open, revealing a lone figure. It was Sharad, blood dripping from half a dozen wounds and his right arm completely soaked in crimson. He bowed as his greatly amplified voice rang out.
The city of Achat welcomes our liberators. We have killed the Thorned Ones in anticapation of your arrival. Join us and be merry.
A month later
Sharad wiped blood off his hands, the seventh prisoner had finally caved and told him how to communicate with Lady Ceridwen. The ritual itself was simple, only requiring a few ounces of mouse blood and a torn contract as a focus. No wonder priesthood was so popular, there was practically no work required. All smoke and mirrors.
Sharad chanted from the center of a small circle, red glyphs swirling around him as he said each word. אלת הכאב, לשמוע את הטיעון שלי.
והכוונה היא זקוקה, אני לא יכול לראות
אני מבקש ממך למועצה אותי
As the last syllable joined the floating symbols around him a small light appeared. A feminine voice, hinting of forgotten mysteries and stars far distant, spoke. And who would you be? Youre not one of my priests nor one of my chosen people.
Sharad spoke quickly Milady, I am merely a gnome who seeks to serve you. The armies of Barsaive are preparing to invade Patria, putting the Tomes of Oghma out of your Thorned Ones reach. I believe that with your help I can ensure that they will fall into the hands of those who will put them to their proper use. I will need your help to keep those books out of the hands of your enemies.
People of Barsaive, it is with greatest pride that I announce that the newly formed High Council has voted six to two to send an expeditionary force to Patria. They will drive the Thorned Ones back to their ruined homeland and free them from Ceridwens curse. Righteousness is on our side. We cannot fail in this holiest of missions.
The mighty fleet sailed out from the newly rebuilt Sky Point. Over a thousand ships carrying millions of soldiers drawn from across Barsaive. Tabba Ghut galleons, Elven kalaels, Throalic carraks, all with a single purpose. The Kraz even managed to send a few of their experimental skyships. Not since the heyday of Patria has such a sight been seen.
The battle for Patria has raged for seven months now and the Thorned Ones have steadily been driven back. A massive battle was being waged in the city itself, the Patrians and Barsaivians both throwing everything they had at the Catacomb Libralus, trying to retake the central saferoom before the defenses surrounding the Tomes collapsed entirely. This push was led by the Achatin, White Elven, and Scionic forces. Schist was the sole survivor of his unit of mages, the rest were slaughtered by a horror summoned from some distant realm. The lockroom was on the verge of opening, but there was nothing he could do about it. The room was far too well guarded. He watched as a dozen white elf swordsmen ran past and fell in behind, maybe they would provide the distraction he needed?
Sharad glanced at the glowing circle in his lab, one of his mages had finally reached the books. There was a brilliant flash as an immense tome materialized in the center, quickly followed by a dozen others. He rushed over and dispelled the circle of runes, the books were his and the alliance none the wiser.
