alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
That reminds me since the old geographic/climate map got wiped out, what's the climate like in Guangfei from north to south? 
LINESII- Into the Darkness- Part III
- Thread starter Lord_Iggy
- Start date
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
"We gambled, and lost."
-Last words of Stratikrator Xenophon
---
Sheets of freezing rain fell, coating the pavestones, and turning the light gray marble to the color of steel. A man walked toward the city, gritting his teeth against the chill as he lowered his hood.
The guards challenged him, and let him through. It was cold, and getting colder as night fell. He wanted a fire, food, and wine, if it could be had. But the shipments from the south came rarely anymore...they all knew what had happened, he most of all.
The rain fell, slowly turning to sleet as the night grew colder. The streets of Unias were almost empty, lanterns extinguished, doors barred. There was an inn, he knew, but they would not take him. They were all full...survivors from the south had been trickling in, their horror stories of death and destruction adding layers to the icy darkness.
He made it to the docks. It was not a good day to sail on the ocean, but it would be necessary. His men were there, icicles forming on sailor's beards. They grinned in the darkness, whispering words of thanks as he passed the black book into their waiting hands.
They could leave now. As the sleet slowly changed over to snow, the boat slipped her cables and rowed out to sea, leaving the cold, unfriendly city for a cold, unfriendly ocean.
---
The arrow arched across the line, trailing dark blue smoke in front of the capital ships. The signal given, one hundred swords sliced one hundred winch lines. With a metallic roar, the ballistae and catapults released as one, and a hail of shafts, flaming stones, and chained, razor-edged shot flew through the air. It arched over the landing boats to tear into the shore, ripping entire columns of conscript infantry to bloody shreds. The gaping holes in the line struggled to prepare as the allied soldiers approached the beaches.
Septilion Virconus broke off the shaft, wincing slightly as he pulled the arrow back through his shoulder. It was just a flesh wound, but thank the One it wasn't his sword arm. He tore a strip from his cape and wrapped it around the puncture, then rose to a kneeling position.
He yelled orders in a roar to the other three landing boats, each with a squad of twenty-five soldiers. Five more sailed behind, each with a Tactica and three Decadions.
"Beach the boats and secure a landing position! Expand the perimeter, and punch a hole through their central line! The navy will fire one more volley, and then we're on our own!"
As the massive shafts of the heavy ballistae flew overhead, the soldiers felt the displaced air rush past. The screams on the beach were audible, and a single volley of arrows fired from the ships had temporarily cleared a small area of everything but Swade bodies.
The men jumped over the side, four remaining in the rear to push the boats ashore. Grunting with exertion, they turned the landing craft on their sides, giving cover for the company's few archers. The enemy conscripts had reorganized, and their officers growled out the commands for a charge. With the whole troop disembarked, the Septilion and his men waited with their backs to the boats.
A single, thin trail of Valin Fire shot out from the capital ship. It would be close, he thought...and sighed with happiness as it barely cleared the shoreline. That would stop them, for a moment; it was time.
"Men of Veritas!" he roared in a commanding voice, "Forward!"
They swarmed forward around the boats, crashing into the first rank of conscripts, many of whom were still flaming. The melee grew intense. Virconus deftly turned the slashing thrust of an enemy soldier, and brought his blade around to slice his face open. The man stumbled backwards, and an Urban Militia soldier buried a throwing axe in his gut.
The melee slowly dragged on, as the conscript line bulged outward. Virconus began to see several of the conscripts waver, and as one and another slowly retreted backwards, a wave of fear seemed to infect the enemy army. He barely had time to gather the men for a second assault before the black-feathered shaft pierced his helmet.
Falling to the ground, his vision blurred. "Host-Lord Andronius is dead," they said, "The Host-Lord is dead." He tried to struggle to his feet, but an approaching Decadion pushed him down. "Elatus, higher officer bleeding from the head! He's going into shock..."
Blackness slowly crept out of the corners of his eyes, driving him towards unconciousness. Before he passed out, he saw a great ship plow into the shore, tendrils of liquid flame reaching out to scorch the land.
-Last words of Stratikrator Xenophon
---
Sheets of freezing rain fell, coating the pavestones, and turning the light gray marble to the color of steel. A man walked toward the city, gritting his teeth against the chill as he lowered his hood.
The guards challenged him, and let him through. It was cold, and getting colder as night fell. He wanted a fire, food, and wine, if it could be had. But the shipments from the south came rarely anymore...they all knew what had happened, he most of all.
The rain fell, slowly turning to sleet as the night grew colder. The streets of Unias were almost empty, lanterns extinguished, doors barred. There was an inn, he knew, but they would not take him. They were all full...survivors from the south had been trickling in, their horror stories of death and destruction adding layers to the icy darkness.
He made it to the docks. It was not a good day to sail on the ocean, but it would be necessary. His men were there, icicles forming on sailor's beards. They grinned in the darkness, whispering words of thanks as he passed the black book into their waiting hands.
They could leave now. As the sleet slowly changed over to snow, the boat slipped her cables and rowed out to sea, leaving the cold, unfriendly city for a cold, unfriendly ocean.
---
The arrow arched across the line, trailing dark blue smoke in front of the capital ships. The signal given, one hundred swords sliced one hundred winch lines. With a metallic roar, the ballistae and catapults released as one, and a hail of shafts, flaming stones, and chained, razor-edged shot flew through the air. It arched over the landing boats to tear into the shore, ripping entire columns of conscript infantry to bloody shreds. The gaping holes in the line struggled to prepare as the allied soldiers approached the beaches.
Septilion Virconus broke off the shaft, wincing slightly as he pulled the arrow back through his shoulder. It was just a flesh wound, but thank the One it wasn't his sword arm. He tore a strip from his cape and wrapped it around the puncture, then rose to a kneeling position.
He yelled orders in a roar to the other three landing boats, each with a squad of twenty-five soldiers. Five more sailed behind, each with a Tactica and three Decadions.
"Beach the boats and secure a landing position! Expand the perimeter, and punch a hole through their central line! The navy will fire one more volley, and then we're on our own!"
As the massive shafts of the heavy ballistae flew overhead, the soldiers felt the displaced air rush past. The screams on the beach were audible, and a single volley of arrows fired from the ships had temporarily cleared a small area of everything but Swade bodies.
The men jumped over the side, four remaining in the rear to push the boats ashore. Grunting with exertion, they turned the landing craft on their sides, giving cover for the company's few archers. The enemy conscripts had reorganized, and their officers growled out the commands for a charge. With the whole troop disembarked, the Septilion and his men waited with their backs to the boats.
A single, thin trail of Valin Fire shot out from the capital ship. It would be close, he thought...and sighed with happiness as it barely cleared the shoreline. That would stop them, for a moment; it was time.
"Men of Veritas!" he roared in a commanding voice, "Forward!"
They swarmed forward around the boats, crashing into the first rank of conscripts, many of whom were still flaming. The melee grew intense. Virconus deftly turned the slashing thrust of an enemy soldier, and brought his blade around to slice his face open. The man stumbled backwards, and an Urban Militia soldier buried a throwing axe in his gut.
The melee slowly dragged on, as the conscript line bulged outward. Virconus began to see several of the conscripts waver, and as one and another slowly retreted backwards, a wave of fear seemed to infect the enemy army. He barely had time to gather the men for a second assault before the black-feathered shaft pierced his helmet.
Falling to the ground, his vision blurred. "Host-Lord Andronius is dead," they said, "The Host-Lord is dead." He tried to struggle to his feet, but an approaching Decadion pushed him down. "Elatus, higher officer bleeding from the head! He's going into shock..."
Blackness slowly crept out of the corners of his eyes, driving him towards unconciousness. Before he passed out, he saw a great ship plow into the shore, tendrils of liquid flame reaching out to scorch the land.
~Darkening~
Weep, Mother.
Any comment on my pm Iggy? You could just say no, you know ?
?Wubba360
Emperor
what are the different climates across my empire?
Wubba360
Emperor
To: Guangfei
From: Myocaca
We have no intent in seizing any of the lands you conquered, sorry for the mistranslation. May peace be on our borders
From: Myocaca
We have no intent in seizing any of the lands you conquered, sorry for the mistranslation. May peace be on our borders
Oruc
Reactionary
When are we supposed to expect the update? I thought it was last weekend, is it this weekend?
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
"Half of the time, we fight to undo our proud and idiotic mistakes of the past, the very ones that lost us Veritas to begin with. When a Valin must sink to betrayal to further our cause, he is no longer one of us."
-Stratikrator Thanatos
---
He dreamed.
Flames were in his head. They were burning him alive! The pain...a knife in his head. Whispers of herbs and poultices surrounded him, and he groaned in his delirium. Darkness everywhere, flames in the dark. Holy One, have mercy...
The darkness changed, and the pain passed into the distance. He felt something like rain falling around him, softly and silently as a breeze. His vision was obscured by gray mist, and he drifted through the ethereal nothingness, bobbing like a cork on a stormy sea. He heard whispers, echoing and enticing him...they promised power, wealth, empire. Reach out and take it, they said. But he had no arms.
A thin shaft of light pierced the curtain of mist, and the wind grew brisk as it swept away the whispering dampness. Suddenly, the light was everywhere, filling his vision and banishing the lingering darkness. His spirit picked up speed, soaring like a gull across the sky.
The ocean was blue, an azure brilliance nothing like the gray waters of his Norvalin home. He saw and felt the waters teeming with life, thousands of species living and dying, renewing nature's cycle, inexorably linked like the manifold threads of a growing, vibrant tapestry. He felt freedom, and truth. No, Truth.
He began to see ships, sailing across the ocean. Small and large, filled with people. Joyous people, taking from the sea's limitless bounty. They hauled in their catches and made for land, songs of private joy and contentment echoing in their hearts. He felt peace, and his spirit was caught up with the growing number of ships as they made for harbor. Home, they said. The word echoed in his mind. An exile's home.
He saw green shores, as the land drew near. Brilliant shades of green and gold. Beyond the silver sands lay a vast grassland, stretching across the land like a living blanket of warm, dark earth. Golden fields of wheat rose, and orchards covered the gently rolling hills. Men and women came, swinging scythes and driving plows, singing songs of labor as they wiped the sweat off their brows. He felt order and harmony.
The hills grew tall, and forests thick. Protected lands, kept safe for the people. The hunter's camp and forester's cottage were the only landmarks in an endless stand of mighty oaks. Night fell, and a few wisps of smoke rose from the sleeping trees. A falcon glided silently upward, guarding and protecting the land that he knew. Small creatures scurried into burrows, and silent predators roamed beneath the trees.
The sun rose, and with it he saw a road, carved from gleaming white stone. Here and there he saw a traveler, soldier, explorer, all returning home at last. He yearned to join them, and his spirit followed. A small family sat in a cart, covered in straw, pulled by oxen. Merchants, sailors, farmers, craftsmen, they all joined the growing throng of people marching or walking towards the city.
He saw the gleaming marble walls as they first caught the sun's rays. "We shall be called by silver trumpets," he remembered, and as the clear notes rang out, he realized that his time may have come. Was this Paradise at last? The walls rose up before him, as guards called out the changing of the watch. There would be many travelers today.
The great gates slowly swung open. Silver and steel, with strange, flowing runes intertwined across the doors. There was power in those gates, a power that could never be broken. He felt the strength of Order, and its guardians. He felt the promise of salvation just within.
The city shone with light, a city of millions. Children awoke, and stared out their windows. There were towers, white needles reaching out to pierce the sky. Massive trees lined the streets, and the walls were covered in interwining strands of ivy. There were halls of knowledge, where men and even women worked to unlock the secrets of the world. Great markets, where strange goods from distant lands were traded and exchanged. And temples, temples everywhere. The smell of incense mixed with roses flowed into the streets, and the call of worship was answered a thousand times, with faith and unbreakable devotion.
He had no body, so there were no tears. But his spirit cried for joy as he saw the mass of people, singing and praying, living and dying, all fulfilling their chosen lives, and honoring, uplifting, glorifying the One through their very existance. As the rising sun glanced off the impossibly high white towers, he felt Light. Shining down upon the world, and reflected in the hearts of the Faithful.
End of Exile...an impossible dream, but a beautiful one. The darkness took him.
---
His eyes snapped open, and the pain returned. His head was spinning, and the room was spinning...no, rocking with the waves. Struggling to sit up, he sharply exhaled as the pain drove the breath out of his lungs. Half of his head was wrapped in bloody bandages.
"Virconus," a voice said.
"By the might of the Prophet," he gasped, "I saw it. I saw the White City."
She was standing by the door, shoulders wrapped in a flowing blue cape. The silver helm of the sea-hawk was lifted, showing her face, black hair and grey eyes. The Oceanus Selenica smiled grimly.
"I know. We all have."
-Stratikrator Thanatos
---
He dreamed.
Flames were in his head. They were burning him alive! The pain...a knife in his head. Whispers of herbs and poultices surrounded him, and he groaned in his delirium. Darkness everywhere, flames in the dark. Holy One, have mercy...
The darkness changed, and the pain passed into the distance. He felt something like rain falling around him, softly and silently as a breeze. His vision was obscured by gray mist, and he drifted through the ethereal nothingness, bobbing like a cork on a stormy sea. He heard whispers, echoing and enticing him...they promised power, wealth, empire. Reach out and take it, they said. But he had no arms.
A thin shaft of light pierced the curtain of mist, and the wind grew brisk as it swept away the whispering dampness. Suddenly, the light was everywhere, filling his vision and banishing the lingering darkness. His spirit picked up speed, soaring like a gull across the sky.
The ocean was blue, an azure brilliance nothing like the gray waters of his Norvalin home. He saw and felt the waters teeming with life, thousands of species living and dying, renewing nature's cycle, inexorably linked like the manifold threads of a growing, vibrant tapestry. He felt freedom, and truth. No, Truth.
He began to see ships, sailing across the ocean. Small and large, filled with people. Joyous people, taking from the sea's limitless bounty. They hauled in their catches and made for land, songs of private joy and contentment echoing in their hearts. He felt peace, and his spirit was caught up with the growing number of ships as they made for harbor. Home, they said. The word echoed in his mind. An exile's home.
He saw green shores, as the land drew near. Brilliant shades of green and gold. Beyond the silver sands lay a vast grassland, stretching across the land like a living blanket of warm, dark earth. Golden fields of wheat rose, and orchards covered the gently rolling hills. Men and women came, swinging scythes and driving plows, singing songs of labor as they wiped the sweat off their brows. He felt order and harmony.
The hills grew tall, and forests thick. Protected lands, kept safe for the people. The hunter's camp and forester's cottage were the only landmarks in an endless stand of mighty oaks. Night fell, and a few wisps of smoke rose from the sleeping trees. A falcon glided silently upward, guarding and protecting the land that he knew. Small creatures scurried into burrows, and silent predators roamed beneath the trees.
The sun rose, and with it he saw a road, carved from gleaming white stone. Here and there he saw a traveler, soldier, explorer, all returning home at last. He yearned to join them, and his spirit followed. A small family sat in a cart, covered in straw, pulled by oxen. Merchants, sailors, farmers, craftsmen, they all joined the growing throng of people marching or walking towards the city.
He saw the gleaming marble walls as they first caught the sun's rays. "We shall be called by silver trumpets," he remembered, and as the clear notes rang out, he realized that his time may have come. Was this Paradise at last? The walls rose up before him, as guards called out the changing of the watch. There would be many travelers today.
The great gates slowly swung open. Silver and steel, with strange, flowing runes intertwined across the doors. There was power in those gates, a power that could never be broken. He felt the strength of Order, and its guardians. He felt the promise of salvation just within.
The city shone with light, a city of millions. Children awoke, and stared out their windows. There were towers, white needles reaching out to pierce the sky. Massive trees lined the streets, and the walls were covered in interwining strands of ivy. There were halls of knowledge, where men and even women worked to unlock the secrets of the world. Great markets, where strange goods from distant lands were traded and exchanged. And temples, temples everywhere. The smell of incense mixed with roses flowed into the streets, and the call of worship was answered a thousand times, with faith and unbreakable devotion.
He had no body, so there were no tears. But his spirit cried for joy as he saw the mass of people, singing and praying, living and dying, all fulfilling their chosen lives, and honoring, uplifting, glorifying the One through their very existance. As the rising sun glanced off the impossibly high white towers, he felt Light. Shining down upon the world, and reflected in the hearts of the Faithful.
End of Exile...an impossible dream, but a beautiful one. The darkness took him.
---
His eyes snapped open, and the pain returned. His head was spinning, and the room was spinning...no, rocking with the waves. Struggling to sit up, he sharply exhaled as the pain drove the breath out of his lungs. Half of his head was wrapped in bloody bandages.
"Virconus," a voice said.
"By the might of the Prophet," he gasped, "I saw it. I saw the White City."
She was standing by the door, shoulders wrapped in a flowing blue cape. The silver helm of the sea-hawk was lifted, showing her face, black hair and grey eyes. The Oceanus Selenica smiled grimly.
"I know. We all have."
Swissempire
Poet Jester
OMG, Thyali, that story was amazing beyond all desscription. Wow.
That was seriously really cool. The Imagery...superb. I felt like i was with him. I could see everything.
The only thing i didn't get was the grim smile at the end.
Edit: Iggy, I'm assuming Otaria is very temperate, kinda almost New England-esque
That was seriously really cool. The Imagery...superb. I felt like i was with him. I could see everything.
The only thing i didn't get was the grim smile at the end.
Edit: Iggy, I'm assuming Otaria is very temperate, kinda almost New England-esque
Oruc
Reactionary
whats the climate like north of Zamdar?
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
OOC: You know thlayli, there are times I desire to wipe you out just so you can't compete with me story-wise 
Yes, that's a compliment.
I hope there are lychees in Guangfei
Yes, that's a compliment.I hope there are lychees in Guangfei
Oruc
Reactionary
Ahh thats crap I guess not many people will want to settle there
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
OOC: You could pose it as like a challenge for adventuring types and ridicule some people into going by calling them women and etc for not being brave enough into going
