LINESII- Into the Darkness- Part II
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~Darkening~
Weep, Mother.
Good.
Any damage done to the Cathedral?
Any damage done to the Cathedral?
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
Lost of Piety in Faith
“Woe has come to our world. While the Swades shine in the East, we diminish in the West. While the Oneists have been purged in the East, we have been destroyed in the West. While the Swades stand unopposed in the East, they shiver and cower in the West. What are you, Dragon Empire that hath caused the Blademaster himself to turn his gaze from us?” –Lord Sinistra of Sphinica
It was over.
Everything was over. The dream of his life, the legacy he was supposed to leave, it was all gone, destroyed. Korintos! Why was that battle his doom? Why did the Blademaster turn his gaze from his Chosen People?
Why was it at Korintos? Korintos was always and would always be the climax of his life, all else went into a downward spiral. There, he and Lord Sinistra had led the forces of the cities of Sphinica and Labordina against the Han General Zhi Xuan. O Korintos, you heralded the end of the Twin Cities.
They had led five thousand troops against around six thousand Han soldiers and clashed on the plain of Korintos. As the noon sun shined above their heads, the battle had begun. The finest swordsmen on the world, Bladeists swordsmen had advanced in the center flanked by the pride of the Twin Cities, the men and teens who lived in them.
From the beginning, they were showered by Han projectiles, arrows from their mounted cavalry, bolts from their crossbowmen, and rocks from their weapons of war. And from the dust, marched the Han Imperial Army. Banners flying high in the air as the troops of the Empire marched beneath to conquer the primitive barbarians and bring them into the embracing feelings of Great Han.
He remembered the feeling in his heart as Lord Sinistra leaped upon his horse and led his forces into a frontal charge of the lines leaving him empty handed in the command center. Perhaps if that had changed, it would not have been a defeat. As their infantry surged against the Han lines, dust appeared suddenly from the sides.
The Han Cavalry doomed the Battle of Korintos in his eyes as the Han Cavalry cut through the flanks and surrounded their troops. Thousands fell within that hour as the Han were relentless. Arrows, bolts and rocks were devastating upon the closely compressed troops. He and the few watched as his soldiers and friends were killed by the Han.
The Bladeists swordsmen were the finest of their class, but even they could not hold against the Imperial Guards of Emperor Yue of old. Even as they slew his soldiers, he witnessed and enjoyed the irony of their battle against those Legions.
They had been commissioned almost 200 years ago by Emperor Yue to fight the Valins in the Great Valfei War and now, 200 years later, they were fighting against the Bladeists whom their predecessors had fought with against the Valins. The irony struck him in that melancholy moment.
He and the men that were left had retreated from the Battle, ignoring the sight of the carrion flying over their heads toward the battlefield or the pursuing Han cavalry. Nothing stood between the Han Imperial Army and the Twin Cities. He summoned one of the servants in the room.
“Go to the War Tent of General Zhi Xuan. Inform him that the city of Labordina surrenders to the Empire of Guangfei and ask him to send my best regards to Emperor Shun in Guanzhong. I shall fight no more. Inform him, that if his Lord wills it, I will pledge my allegiance in Guanzhong, City of Cities, to the Dragon Emperor.”
It was over.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
To Leave a Legacy
How does one leave a legacy for the generations to come? Emperors come and go their names, deeds and lives not lasting more then a few pages in a book of history, how does a simple man leave his own print when the prints of the Emperors have been so little? Han Guangfei Philosopher
Guangfei, it was said to be the land of milk and honey, of food unending on sight, the land of gold and pearls. And seeing her for the first time, he was inclined to agree. Wealth, confidence and power practically emitted from her inhabitants. The poorest of the poor had a stride in their bearing, a way that they carried themselves that said that they were someone.
He knew why they had lost.
Against Guangfei, they had been doomed to lose. Korintos? What was Korintos? Even if they had won, they would only be buying time, nothing more. Time moved slowly, yet surely like the waters of the Fei River, unrelenting and merciless. Sooner or later, they would have been crushed.
What were seven thousand to them? Hundreds of thousands lived in the territories he had so far went past with more and more living as they got closer to the City of Cities. The Han were as numerous as blades of grass and made of sterner stuff. That was the past, the Twin Cities were no more. Sphinica and Labordina were no more, both under the banner of the Dragon.
He remembered surrendering Labordina, as his people watched, to the General Zhi Xuan. He had been good on his word the city had evaded the destruction and chaos that an assault would have entailed. Sphinica was not as fortunate, Lord Sinistra had refused to surrender and his city had been cracked.
He remembered as the Han weapons of war rained death upon the city and the assault that came afterwards. Ladders, siege towers with battering rams closed in on the city and took it by the sword. Sinistra was killed fleeing as he watched from afar. Now, he could only wish for the clemency of the Han Emperor, the Shun Di as his subjects called him.
It was a while before he had noticed that they had slowed down and even then he was not exactly sure he was awake. Beyond him was the largest city he had ever seen, stretching to and beyond the horizon blotting out the natural landscape. Compared to this, the Twin Cities were ants in size.
And he could see the Imperial Palace along with the gracing slope of the Temple of Heaven. Walls upon walls he could see, tall, high and thick they were manned with thousands of teeming soldiers. The towers of the wall still stood vigilant, little changed since the time of Ku. And above this all, flew two banners.
The first one was the Dragon Banner, the banner showing an elegant yet ancient dragon surrounded by streams of gold and silver on what was probably silk. He knew that banner was of Guangfei, the ancient, elegant and strong Empire that it was. It was a banner that if rumors were correct, had been hand sewn by Empress Lü Zhi herself.
The second one was much plainer. Nothing more then a yellow flag with black borders, it had one sole identifying trait. There was one large character in the center of the banner, the character Han. It was a banner that flew from far away Qingdao to the Twin Cities.
They had reached Guanzhong.
Swissempire
Poet Jester
A Descent to Madness
Evern IV Wilipi, called Iv by his friends who had known him as Ivin Daofin[1] before he took on the ceremonial name, was quite the chiseled man. Yet, more darkely, he was quite the paranoid and borderline insane man. I should know, I raised him from his Padg[2] to his shining steel. He railed against the people of Guangfei, calling them slippery, no good Ginks. Har har har, he was quite an energetic lad, taking great pleasure in cutting out the toungues of heretics and torturing unrepentant Oneists[3]. I blame his dark demeneor on the abuse he suffered from his father. Ah, physical abuse, the gift that keeps on giving.
-Excerpt unearthed from the diary of Grand High Bladetrainer Revon, the Horribly Humored
Evern IV Wilipi, called Iv by his friends who had known him as Ivin Daofin[1] before he took on the ceremonial name, was quite the chiseled man. Yet, more darkely, he was quite the paranoid and borderline insane man. I should know, I raised him from his Padg[2] to his shining steel. He railed against the people of Guangfei, calling them slippery, no good Ginks. Har har har, he was quite an energetic lad, taking great pleasure in cutting out the toungues of heretics and torturing unrepentant Oneists[3]. I blame his dark demeneor on the abuse he suffered from his father. Ah, physical abuse, the gift that keeps on giving.
-Excerpt unearthed from the diary of Grand High Bladetrainer Revon, the Horribly Humored
Iv cowered in the corner as his enraged father was angrily blustering about, screaming his head off about stalling in the Otarian[4] campaign. In the end this would be blamed on him and he knew it. Forbidden tears rolled down is face. His father turned to him and grabbed the small chain on the end of his throne. He vengeful gaze turned towards Iv, and Iv braced himself for the impact, swallowing a scream that could never exist, and weeping uncontrollable tears that only served to make the pain worse…….
The Ascendant Master snapped out of his flashback and found himself on the throne in his grand and glorious palace. Some breeder had been blithering on about a strain of Albinoism in some Bigjaurs and how action should be taken. But now the whole court stared at him, and he tasted a salty liquid upon his lips. He realized he was crying. Iv became enraged that the whole court would stare at him so. The breeder was the first who would feel his wrath.
“HERETIC!” Iv cried out, extending his finger of death at the perplexed breeder. “The Blademaster grants me tears so my eyes may see the truth. This man, and his entire family, are Oneists spies!” The room gasped. Iv lept from his chair and drew the royal sword. In 3 leaps he came to the now shocked Breeder man. “REPENT YOUR SINS HERETIC!” The breeder stuttered “I repent Holy One”. Iv then ran his blade through the stomach of the breeder. It emerged red and dripping from his back. “I leave it to the Blademaster to decide your fate." Iv looked up to his shocked court, “Fools, clean this mess up, and let those Albino Bigjaurs live. What care have I for a few white mongrels? Oh, and sent in the Gink Ambassador, that slanty eyed Panda Boy, so that I may look as he cowers in my presence. I cannot threaten him to his face, but even he has enough sense to know his life is forfeit if his country betrays us.” Calmer now, Iv took his perch back on his throne.
Iv loved his Bigjaur pup, Schmeg, and played with him every night. He hated having to use him as a lie, but Iv had so wanted to see the parts of the Ayrien captial city his father would never let him see. The lower classes, the bars and the brothels, to find out if the rumored Valin-girls[5] really existed and to see whether it was really true that Ardanese men prefered the "company" of other men and young boys. Iv kept his blade close in case one of those Ardanese came close to him. To find all this out though, he had needed to lie and tell his father he was training with Schmeg. It turned out that the lower classes really weren't that interesting, that the bars and the brothels here weren't much different here than in Swade, and that his other two questioned were answered with a disturbing yes. But when Iv returned to where they were staying, he found his father glowering in the doorway. "Where were you Iv?". Hoping he could get away with it, Iv cursed the studder that precede his affirmation of his lie "Why...why...why..I was with Schmeg". "Really?" Taunted his father, "then why was i able to do this?". With a wholely unwarranted flourish, Iv's father threw the severed head of Schmeg at the feet of Iv. "Son, lies bring only death, look at the Emorians". With a laugh he strode away, as Iv stood there in shock, afraid someone would notice he wet himself.....
Iv woke up sweating. He washed his face in the bucket next to him and put on his robes. He fastened his ceremonial sword to his belt and made off for the strategic command meeting. Before he entered the chamber, he asked the guard what the status of the Otarian campaign was. He instructed him to answer him truthfully. "Well, your Holiness, it has made good progress and extreminated all Oneists below the line of control, but there has been a pause. Something about Toga wearing martial artists and exploding rum bottles." "Thank you, guard, the Blessings of the Blademaster upon you."
Iv then strode into the chamber, and his general rose. One by one they went through their reports, about how the Myocacan Oneists and the Sintonian Oneists were dead, about how the Veritas Campaign had been a complete sucess and how the temple building went. Last, but not least, Iv turned to the Otarian High Commander. A hold-over from his father's regime, he had always expected this old man held back in their meetings. "Report Warmaster."
"Your Holiness, the front is meeting no resistance, the island will fall in weeks. Leave it to me." In a fluid strike, the ceremonial sword at Iv's side lodged itself in the neck of the Warmaster. Unfortunatley, since it was purely ceremonial, it stuck there. Iv had to hack 5 more times for the head to come completely off. Now that the room was christened in blood, Iv wiped some gore off his face and spat upon the body. "Lies bring only death."
A lesson had been taught today. Iv called in the guard who had told him the truth. "What is you name guardsman?" "I am Ioúdas Iskáriōth," he said without a studder. "Ioúdas, you are the Warmaster of the Otarian front". Ioúdas dropped to his knees and Iv blessed and anointed[6] him with the bloody sword.
Iv was in the royal procession through the streets of Swade. A 500 person Retinue struck him as unneeded, but what his father wanted, his father got. Iv looked around at the devoted people who would bow down to him as though he were the Blademaster himself. As he walked though, he saw a starving beggar boy much his own age. Iv stopped and gave this boy 5 Swaderis and a leg of Chikin from Iv's food pouch. The boy looked overjoyed and was thanking Iv when something struck Iv hard in the back. Iv fell to his knees. He spun around to face this attacker, but it was his Father. His Father picked up the 10 year old Iv by his throat and held him 2 feet in the air. "Insolent fukinshiteeb1tchspawn[7], you stoop to the level of beggars. I demand you kill this boy, or I shall kill you both." The angered Ascendant Master tossed Iv to the ground. Reluctantly Iv drew his sword, and with such remorse cut down the Beggar Boy. He lay bleeding in the Alleyway. It was the first person Iv had ever killed. The blood pooled around his feet and he resisted the urge to vomit. His Father stood over him, "You have learned a lesson today. You must either put the poor to work or conscript them. Idle Swade have murderous Blades. I will only flog you 30 times since you have partially rectified your sin." The lashes later that night didn't hurt nearly as much as the pain of the memory of that child lieing motionless on the ground....
Iv was pacing his chambers. The world was against him. His father had purified his allies, and now they hated Iv. Everyone planned against him, they all plotted. The ginks, the filthy, heretical Valin, the boy-humping Ardanians, even the once friendly Myocacan's weren't answering his diplomacy. He ruled the strongest Swade Ascendancy in history, and it was already crumbling. He would stop that at all costs. No price was to big too pay. But how. He presided over the largest religion in the world, yet his devotees rejected his fathers Holy Doctrine. He would win this war then with only heaten, yet loyal, Khemri at his side. Gorin might contribute something, but they could barely even deal with a tiny pony people revolt. They were useless.
Iv had to think of ways he could win the war within and without. His coffers may have had little gold, but he would win a war bought with souls and blood money. Yes, like the raging Ramid in mating season, he would rampage over all others. His followers would blanket the globe in his name. Yes, Yes YES! His father would be forgotten by history, mearly a foot note. He would organize everyone and everything towards this ultimate goal. The Oneists wouldbe wiped out, His allies would prosper, those who dared to betray him would be punished, and all would see he was not a madman like his father. No, Iv would be remembered as a Visionary, ushering in a new age for the Swade. If his path was paved with bodies, so what, they were not his. His yacht would simply sail the river of blood.
Plus, if he could control his populace so, the resentment that stewing about him could be quelled. After all, idle Swade had murderous blades. But what his father had forgotten to mention was that fighting Swade had victorious blade. Iv cackled at his turn of phrase.
The world would be within his hands. Iv was the boss now.
[1] Daofin being the Swade honorific meaning Crowned Prince
[2] The Padg is the first small and padded dagger a young toddler is given.
[3] Historians for centuries questioned the validity of that phrase, since all Oneists were supposedly killed on site. Then the discovery of the Slavers, those who would capture Oneists and bring them back to the ascendancy to be sold to the highest bidder, who could naturally do whatever they wanted with them.
[4] The Swade name for Exilisum(Chipland was a but tacky
)[5] Shemale
[6] "anoited and blessed" is much like OTL Knighting
[7] Spiteful Swade curse word.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
OOC: The Han Ambassador, using the great intellect and rational mind that the Han People have been given, long abandoned the Swade Ascendancy on horseback soon after the Han expelled the Swades. The Swades, with their terrible horsemanship, failed to catch up 
EDIT: And IC wise, the Panda hasn't been discovered yet
EDIT: And IC wise, the Panda hasn't been discovered yet
Swissempire
Poet Jester
OOC: The Han Ambassador, using the great intellect and rational mind that the Han People have been given, long abandoned the Swade Ascendancy on horseback soon after the Han expelled the Swades. The Swades, with their terrible horsemanship, failed to catch up
OOC: Then how can we exchange diplomacy. And a fleeing horse cannot outrun a bloodthirsty Bigjaur.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
OOC: Simple, we don't exchange diplomacy And the fleeing horse will outrun the bigjaur because there are no bigjaur riders left in the Swade Ascendancy
And the fleeing horse will outrun the bigjaur because there are no bigjaur riders left in the Swade Ascendancy 
Gogo writing style!
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
The Gods Descent upon Tellus
From the Heavens shall come mighty beasts,
black and white they shall come and be seen.
Yet armed with heavenly might few can stand,
they shall come to terms against the almighty white.
-Na Shimin, Han Guangfei Philosopher and Seer
From the Heavens shall come mighty beasts,
black and white they shall come and be seen.
Yet armed with heavenly might few can stand,
they shall come to terms against the almighty white.
-Na Shimin, Han Guangfei Philosopher and Seer
What was that?!?!
A flash of black and white had been seen yet the figure itself was distorted. It was an eerie and chilling occurrence. The more superstitious of them had taken out their charms to ward off the potential evil. It was not the best first impression of the Han Guangfei Imperial Army to any observer.
They were scouts sent by the Governor in the region to obviously scout the uncharted regions east of Bandong and Faitei which rumor had it was inhabited by vicious man-eating barbarians. Of course, if the barbarians ate men, how did the rumors get back? A slight curiosity on the part of the governor would lead to one of the greatest finds in World History.
The squad of men, armed with crossbows and swords with light armor followed the blurring figure as well as they could. The beast, or demon had left heinous and vicious gaps that was clearly a trail for its pursuers. The problem was that the trail could be so that the thing could fall upon its pursuer and eat them.
It was a difficult thing to say the least to get the soldiers forward. These same soldiers who would have stood their ground against Swade Bigjaurs, Valin Yetis or Khermian Ramids, wavered in the face of this unknown monster or beast. As people didnt antagonize the Gods, they didnt want to mess with a demon. They would have returned at this moment, but alas, night fell.
During that night, as the soldiers shivered in their camps with their weapons nearby, they had a great sleep of course. Just consider, demons outside the camp, evil spirits, monsters, and all those other things of superstitions does not scare a man of the ancient era at all. Not at all what so ever did it scare them.
The morning brought a pleasant surprise to most of them as one of the men on watch rang the alarm. As the men assembled, they saw a most curious site. As if by Heavenly will, an animal fell from the sky so to speak. It was small, black and white, furry, and hopelessly adorable. It was a lovely and cute creature.
As the men approached it, two larger versions of the animal appeared, seemingly the father and the mother. They first showed hostility to the men but they warmed up after it was seen the men had no hostile intentions. They were quite friendly and sociable, nudging the men with their noses and trying generally to engage in games so to speak. By now, the men had lost what fear of them and treated them as large friendly animals.
They were brought back to Bandong followed by curious onlookers where the squad of men presented the three animals to the governor. The governor, with his sharp eye for Imperial Favor, sent the pandas along the men to Guanzhong to be presented to the Emperor where they were to ask him for a name.
Needless to say, they won Imperial Favor almost instantly. The Royal Family was charmed within minutes and even the normally sour Prince Liu Ming was seen smiling as he caressed the head of the baby animal. A name was given to the beasts by the cat loving youngest daughter of the Emperor. A cat bear, also known, as the Panda.
~Darkening~
Weep, Mother.
Davians. Davians. Swiss, for the sake of everything holy, if you wish to insult me, at least do it right.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
OOC: I find it strange how no one commented on my panda story and what it means... 
~Darkening~
Weep, Mother.
"My men, my very brave men! I have already asked too much of you, far too much! You have done the impossible and taken the fight to the conquers, the enslavers, and the murderers. You have done far better thean my wildest dreams. You have shown the enemy your heart at Zawasae. You have shown him your courage at Dathan. You have, more than ever, shown him your strenght- not only strength of arms but also of strength of faith- at Darkavia. I could- and should- ask no more of you, my brave men.
The Knight knows he strength as we do our own. He knowns we are worn out, tired from the constant skirmishes that have raged across Gorin. Overextended as much as the Gorinese were when we struck. This heartless Knight is no fool. He has us very much on the run and we can do nothing but bide the day until we are forced to make the stand that will never be in our realm of victory. I do not ask you to follow me anymore. You are all free men- do as you wish. Flee now and you may be given safe passage back to your homes. I will think no less of you.
However, I must bid you all the greatest of luck and the Saint's blessing- I will not be seeing any of you after the few weeks the One has given me. I will not retreat again. A final stand must be made, and I shall make it alone if I must. Yet, I am no fool. I hope that none of you will flee, that no of you will seek peace instead of this death. Any man who chooses to fight along side of me- as brother to brother- will forever receive my blessing and the blessing of the One.
Do not take me wrong, brothers! I know what I am asking of you- against my own right- is too much too bear! You may think that I ask you to die, to sacrifice yourself for this foolish ideal of honor! That I am asking you to leave your families to the wolves to save myself!
But I do not ask this of you! Rather, I ask you to do the possible- to give your families a chance! We must slow them as much as possible, hold thier attention long enough for those who can to flee! I ask you to die so your family may live! I ask you to die so that the storm breaks over the kernas! I ask you to die so that the shred of hope that existed once may survive another year!
Do not fear the approaching darkness, my brave men, for the One shall be our guidein this eternal cave! The torch may fall, the fire extinguished, but the embers shall live on! A new fire will be birthed, a fire unextinguishable, a fire consuming the hatred, rage, and death of this world. A fire guided by those who can see more in this world than a sword and a horse!
Now, my friends, let us light this fire. Let us die.
- Styatior Xean, Battle of The Red Hill, Nkondi.
Consider this a prolouge.
Wubba360
Emperor
Rogalius saw the burning tower below. His army stood behind him. Rogalius could see bodies strewn across the walls and gate ramp. The gapping gap in the wall made Dorn cringe.
"Men rally to the tower, find all Myocacans and encircle them. Keep them protected. Sentorum you make for the tower and guard the gate. I will make my way around the plaza. Heomer make for the wall and find any survivors. This battle is still officially raging and it won['t stop until Myocacan federal troops get in between Swade and civilian. These soldiers aren't foolish enough to strike down a full army of Myocaca."
Charging down a Swade soldier walked in front of the cavalry's path. Rogalius gave the order to keep charging. Frantically the man realized the men were not stopping. Screaming he told all men to part. With Myocacan army bearing the king's crest they were untouchable.
Rogalius quickly swerved around enemy soldiers. Sentorum managed to block the tower entrance. As Rogalius' men rounded up the oneists and protected them, an old friend of Dorn walked up to him.
Captain Calamie of the 10th sword division. "Rogalius what is the meaning of this?"
"Close your mouth Swade. Do not talk to your superiors like that. This is Myocacan land and as soldiers of that land we have the right protect anything within that sphere including our citizens."
"Remove your troops and allow us to continue the purification process!"
"And what are you going to do. Your king is crazy to try and wipe out a whole people, but he is not crazy enough to abandon his greatest ally. You have neither the power nor the authority to move against me. Your army is tired from the midnight battle and mine is fresh. You have a rabble of recruits while I have a fine tuned soldiers ready for war. A battle with me would be suicide. You have already seen the tenacity of an untrained Myocacan force, I would like to see how you would do against a trained one."
"Rogalius, I remember there was a day when you fought for the Blademaster. A day when we fought side by side killing the treacherous Oneists. This scourge has been a thorn in our side for to long, we must destroy it. It is not to late for you to turn back my friend."
"No, you are wrong Calamie. You once defended the innocent, now you send them to the slaughter. I cannot follow you anymore my old friend. I have orders to escort your army across the border back into Swade territory. Will you follow peacefully, or resist."
"If I had authority over the armies of Swade I would strike you down right now."
"You would not have a chance to unsheathe your blade. Foolishness has dulled your reflexes."
Trotting away from the angered captain. Horsemen began to round up the enemy. Weapons were discarded into the carts and Myocacan militia men looked after the soldiers.
Rogalius traversed through the men. Soon he met up with Bradicus.
"Hey there General." His face was disoriented by the blood, his hair matted with human blood and flesh.
"Lets get your men cleaned up, How many swade did you kill?"
"I lost count at a hundred" Chuckling Rogalius went off in search of his friend Sunez."
----------------------------------------------------
Rubeon pushed over the debris. The army had only about maybe 500 survivors. Over 2000 had been killed in the fighting. Rubeon continued to sift through the rubble searching for Methuse.
He could not think a man of that age would with stand such a beating, but he had to see the man's face for closure. Walking around he saw a body hunched over. He had a blade sticking out of his leg. With a closer look the carvings were deffinately Methuse's.
Pushing over the dead body he saw a crippled old man. *cough*cough*
Suddenly jubilant in expression Rubeon pulled the man up.
"MEthuse! you are alive!"
"Hah, after this long you though a little bump on the head could hurt me?" As Rubeon sifted away more debris he saw three arrow points jutting out of the man's chest.
"Oh yeah, I forgot about those." Chuckling to himself the old man began to spit up blood. As the liquid dribbled down his chin. He smiled to the boy.
"Did we get those bastards?"
"We got them, and gave them hell. And we are sending them back to where they came from. War might be coming soon. A real war. A new Bladeist revolution."
coughing the old man stifled, "War is hell boy. You know that now. But sometimes there comes a time when the only place you can go to take back your freedom, to win freedom, is to go into the bowels of hell, stare the devil in the eye and fight back. You did that this night boy. You have stood up for your people, you have stood up for freedom. I will not be around forever, and you will have times when freedom is at stake, and this is one of those times boy. You must sway the people. You must show them what it all means. You must not let them forget what we did this night. You are a survivor and fighter like I was in my time. But my time is up boy...it's up"
Coughing up one last mouthful of blood the old man closed his eyes. Rubeon fell to his hands crying for his friend. The old man seemed to be smiling in his release.
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Sunez stumbled over the dead body of Gurat. Stumbling across the field of battle he saw a horseman ride up to him. "Is your name General Sunez?"
"It is, what would be your name?"
"Oh just an old friend full filling a promise." Squinting into the light Sunez suddenly smiled. "Rogalius!"
Running to his friend, Rogalius dismounted and embraced his friend. "You fought well brother. Now it is time for you to rest."
"But what about all the men?"
"The Swade have been rounded up. The rest of the oneists are being attended to as we speak."
The two men walked through the decrepid battlefield. They were oblivious to the carnage that would come in the next few months. The bloodshed that would make the battle of Herim miniscule in comparison. It was called Civil War, one of the bloodiest man has ever seen, its affects would rock the world to the very core. It would mark a new era, but for now the world stood still. Oneists had fought back and now held their freedom within Myocaca. But it would be a thousand more battles before that freedom was secure.
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if you can believe it, to be continued...
"Men rally to the tower, find all Myocacans and encircle them. Keep them protected. Sentorum you make for the tower and guard the gate. I will make my way around the plaza. Heomer make for the wall and find any survivors. This battle is still officially raging and it won['t stop until Myocacan federal troops get in between Swade and civilian. These soldiers aren't foolish enough to strike down a full army of Myocaca."
Charging down a Swade soldier walked in front of the cavalry's path. Rogalius gave the order to keep charging. Frantically the man realized the men were not stopping. Screaming he told all men to part. With Myocacan army bearing the king's crest they were untouchable.
Rogalius quickly swerved around enemy soldiers. Sentorum managed to block the tower entrance. As Rogalius' men rounded up the oneists and protected them, an old friend of Dorn walked up to him.
Captain Calamie of the 10th sword division. "Rogalius what is the meaning of this?"
"Close your mouth Swade. Do not talk to your superiors like that. This is Myocacan land and as soldiers of that land we have the right protect anything within that sphere including our citizens."
"Remove your troops and allow us to continue the purification process!"
"And what are you going to do. Your king is crazy to try and wipe out a whole people, but he is not crazy enough to abandon his greatest ally. You have neither the power nor the authority to move against me. Your army is tired from the midnight battle and mine is fresh. You have a rabble of recruits while I have a fine tuned soldiers ready for war. A battle with me would be suicide. You have already seen the tenacity of an untrained Myocacan force, I would like to see how you would do against a trained one."
"Rogalius, I remember there was a day when you fought for the Blademaster. A day when we fought side by side killing the treacherous Oneists. This scourge has been a thorn in our side for to long, we must destroy it. It is not to late for you to turn back my friend."
"No, you are wrong Calamie. You once defended the innocent, now you send them to the slaughter. I cannot follow you anymore my old friend. I have orders to escort your army across the border back into Swade territory. Will you follow peacefully, or resist."
"If I had authority over the armies of Swade I would strike you down right now."
"You would not have a chance to unsheathe your blade. Foolishness has dulled your reflexes."
Trotting away from the angered captain. Horsemen began to round up the enemy. Weapons were discarded into the carts and Myocacan militia men looked after the soldiers.
Rogalius traversed through the men. Soon he met up with Bradicus.
"Hey there General." His face was disoriented by the blood, his hair matted with human blood and flesh.
"Lets get your men cleaned up, How many swade did you kill?"
"I lost count at a hundred" Chuckling Rogalius went off in search of his friend Sunez."
----------------------------------------------------
Rubeon pushed over the debris. The army had only about maybe 500 survivors. Over 2000 had been killed in the fighting. Rubeon continued to sift through the rubble searching for Methuse.
He could not think a man of that age would with stand such a beating, but he had to see the man's face for closure. Walking around he saw a body hunched over. He had a blade sticking out of his leg. With a closer look the carvings were deffinately Methuse's.
Pushing over the dead body he saw a crippled old man. *cough*cough*
Suddenly jubilant in expression Rubeon pulled the man up.
"MEthuse! you are alive!"
"Hah, after this long you though a little bump on the head could hurt me?" As Rubeon sifted away more debris he saw three arrow points jutting out of the man's chest.
"Oh yeah, I forgot about those." Chuckling to himself the old man began to spit up blood. As the liquid dribbled down his chin. He smiled to the boy.
"Did we get those bastards?"
"We got them, and gave them hell. And we are sending them back to where they came from. War might be coming soon. A real war. A new Bladeist revolution."
coughing the old man stifled, "War is hell boy. You know that now. But sometimes there comes a time when the only place you can go to take back your freedom, to win freedom, is to go into the bowels of hell, stare the devil in the eye and fight back. You did that this night boy. You have stood up for your people, you have stood up for freedom. I will not be around forever, and you will have times when freedom is at stake, and this is one of those times boy. You must sway the people. You must show them what it all means. You must not let them forget what we did this night. You are a survivor and fighter like I was in my time. But my time is up boy...it's up"
Coughing up one last mouthful of blood the old man closed his eyes. Rubeon fell to his hands crying for his friend. The old man seemed to be smiling in his release.
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Sunez stumbled over the dead body of Gurat. Stumbling across the field of battle he saw a horseman ride up to him. "Is your name General Sunez?"
"It is, what would be your name?"
"Oh just an old friend full filling a promise." Squinting into the light Sunez suddenly smiled. "Rogalius!"
Running to his friend, Rogalius dismounted and embraced his friend. "You fought well brother. Now it is time for you to rest."
"But what about all the men?"
"The Swade have been rounded up. The rest of the oneists are being attended to as we speak."
The two men walked through the decrepid battlefield. They were oblivious to the carnage that would come in the next few months. The bloodshed that would make the battle of Herim miniscule in comparison. It was called Civil War, one of the bloodiest man has ever seen, its affects would rock the world to the very core. It would mark a new era, but for now the world stood still. Oneists had fought back and now held their freedom within Myocaca. But it would be a thousand more battles before that freedom was secure.
-------------------------------------------------
if you can believe it, to be continued...
OOC: Hm, perhaps a slightly less isolated nation would have been a good thing ...
The city of Ean Samhradh is in fact the largest metropolis in all Syracia, although it is not the capital. This is, quite simply, due to its enormous food supply.
The city is located on the long peninsula which forms the southern arm of the Bay of Khemal. Unlike Jara and Iolar Geimhread, both of which are nestled in the foothills of nearby mountains, Ean Samhradh lies in the midst of gentle rolling hills and broad, flat grasslands. This provides ample room for farms - many, many farms.
Like Iolar Geimhread, Ean Samhradh was once part of the Tsayan nation. When Tsaya fell, Ean Samhradh, like its sister city on the isthmus, fell into Syracian hands. This was a fortuitous happening for the fledging nation, as both Iolar Geimhread and Jara itself have little land to exploit for food, though Jara brings in fish aplenty from the Bay of Khemal, and Iolar Geimhread game from the thick forests surrounding it and lining the flanks of the nearby mountains. Neither city, however, is long survivable without the farms of Ean Samhradh to supplement their own resources.
The same happy accident of geography that gave Ean Samhradh its broad peninsula of largely flat, farmable land blesses it in another way: Rainfall. Regular storms sweep in from the sea, keeping the soil thoroughly moistened despite the lack of any major rivers with which to irrigate. The amount of rainfall gets heavier the further west one travels, gradually increasing to the point where truly fertile soil is simply washed away just short of the forests of Iolar Geimhread, as the mountain shadow of the peaks there cause their usual effect on approaching storm clouds.
The combination of flat land and fertile, well-watered soil makes the peninsula of Ean Samhradh abundant in crops. Farms grow grains for breads and cereals, root and vine vegetables, and a wide array of fruits. In the rolling hills, pastures are set for swine, and coops built to hold the various poultry bred both for their meat and eggs. It is this bounty which has fed the growth of the city, and which is exported to the rest of the empire as well to feed many hungry mouths. With the trade route being extended into Kelios, plans are in motion to send surplus crop to the closest cities, hoping to provide fresher wares than the river-farms of Kelios itself can ship across its nation.
Ean Samhradh
Provider of the Empire
Provider of the Empire
The city of Ean Samhradh is in fact the largest metropolis in all Syracia, although it is not the capital. This is, quite simply, due to its enormous food supply.
The city is located on the long peninsula which forms the southern arm of the Bay of Khemal. Unlike Jara and Iolar Geimhread, both of which are nestled in the foothills of nearby mountains, Ean Samhradh lies in the midst of gentle rolling hills and broad, flat grasslands. This provides ample room for farms - many, many farms.
Like Iolar Geimhread, Ean Samhradh was once part of the Tsayan nation. When Tsaya fell, Ean Samhradh, like its sister city on the isthmus, fell into Syracian hands. This was a fortuitous happening for the fledging nation, as both Iolar Geimhread and Jara itself have little land to exploit for food, though Jara brings in fish aplenty from the Bay of Khemal, and Iolar Geimhread game from the thick forests surrounding it and lining the flanks of the nearby mountains. Neither city, however, is long survivable without the farms of Ean Samhradh to supplement their own resources.
The same happy accident of geography that gave Ean Samhradh its broad peninsula of largely flat, farmable land blesses it in another way: Rainfall. Regular storms sweep in from the sea, keeping the soil thoroughly moistened despite the lack of any major rivers with which to irrigate. The amount of rainfall gets heavier the further west one travels, gradually increasing to the point where truly fertile soil is simply washed away just short of the forests of Iolar Geimhread, as the mountain shadow of the peaks there cause their usual effect on approaching storm clouds.
The combination of flat land and fertile, well-watered soil makes the peninsula of Ean Samhradh abundant in crops. Farms grow grains for breads and cereals, root and vine vegetables, and a wide array of fruits. In the rolling hills, pastures are set for swine, and coops built to hold the various poultry bred both for their meat and eggs. It is this bounty which has fed the growth of the city, and which is exported to the rest of the empire as well to feed many hungry mouths. With the trade route being extended into Kelios, plans are in motion to send surplus crop to the closest cities, hoping to provide fresher wares than the river-farms of Kelios itself can ship across its nation.
Luckymoose
The World is Mine
Whens the orders deadline?
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