LINESII- Into the Darkness
- Thread starter Lord_Iggy
- Start date
Swissempire
Poet Jester
The Bronze Blademaster
Wilipo looked up upon the greatest part of his legacy. It stood towering, casting an entire city in its shadow. The world would trable at this site. Each Sword was as big as a 3 story building. The construction effort had been enourmous, but they completed it. Wilipo never lost faith. He looked at the Behemoth Icon of his God, of the True God, of the frigging Blademaster. "I never lost faith".
The High Priest Qingdonglema was reciting a prayer, and 20,000 Bladeists repeated after him. Then the final puzzle piece was put into place. 20 prisoners from Veritas, and 100 Oneists from the conquered region of Chipland cam forward. Ascendant Master Wilipo stepped up to the platfrom the High Priest was on. He commanded the Guards to take the blindfolds off the 120. When they opened their eyes, the effect Wilipo had wanted was acheived. Most feel prostate, includeing a Oneist High Priest. The ten that didn't fall wept.
Wilipo cleared his throat. "Swade, people of the Blademaster. I beseech you listen. We are the chosen, the divine, the elightened. We know the truth. We are rightouesly guided by the Blademaster, for to beleive in him is to prosper. Do you not all prosper, does Myocaca not prosper? Do we not win wars or mind and body? And tell me, what happens when you deny the Blademaster. You are swept away, like Veritas, its holy city captured by Bladeists. Or you starve, like Emorans, depending on the food from the Swade for nourishment. Or you are conquered and swept away by forces nudged by the Blademaster, such as the Lengels. We are the Truth, the Chosen, the Divine. My People, see how the infidels are enlightened by the Blademaster in his Bronzed Glory. See how they weep for their sins, and for their sons, dead for a dieing religion, and lie." Wilipo hissed that last word.
"So my people, the time is nigh. Go forth and spread Bladeism. Go forth and bask in the truth. Go forth and cure the disease that is Oneism! Eradicate the Lie that is Heathenism![1]"
And Again Wilipo gazed up at the Bronze Blademaster in reverance.
[1] The name for all other Religions.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
OOC: Note to self, kill all Bladeists, Oneists, and Crystalists, and Otaronists that enter Guangfe.
Swissempire
Poet Jester
Orders Sent, I even made a map.
~Darkening~
Weep, Mother.
Long winded and confusing, but necessary to get to the next chapter.
–"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;"-23 psalm.
Canan groaned as the first rays of morning filtered in through the cracks in the clay walls. He shifted in the bed as the light demanded a rise from him. The bed wasn’t anything special, just a pile of straw stuffed into wool bag underneath the thin sheets. The light, white cottons were a wedding gift from his own father some four years ago. The man stirred again as signs of life echoed from the other side of the thin earth walls. He let out a muffled groan and threw the sheets off of his half of the bed.
He heaved his body out of the bed and stumbled across the room silently to the washstand. The small tub had been filled the previous day, so naturally the water was stale. Still it was refreshing enough to wake the man up. Canan dipped his hands into the basin of water and quickly raised them to his brow, letting the murky water run back through the tangled mess of hair. He then pushed his fingers through the blond mess and straightened the long strands out.
He quietly crossed the room again to where his clothes lay, neatly arranged the day before. He donned the military uniform, the standard for every soldier in the army: leather shorts and a white cotton shirt. He then sat down on the small crate that served as a chair and laced the leather sandals up. Satisfied in the way the cloths were adorned, he moved over to the wooden door; quietly as always. He snuck out the door, unobvious to the stirring of two other bodies in the room.
Outside the room the city of Boro was gradually stirring to life. The room was nothing spectacular: just a one room apartment on the second floor of the compound. It was a large sandstone complex, three stories tall, with no windows. Each had three stories and five apartments on each level. The bottom floor was always the poorest, while the middle and third floors were usually reserved for the better-than-usual incomes.
Canan emerged into the bustling street from the fifth door on the bottom floor, quietly replacing the door on its hinges. His hair was long, golden and slicked back with morning water. He stood of average height, standing around five-and-a-half feet tall. His eyes were a clear blue, as if drawn from when morning first drew.
He made his way through the burgeoning streets, weaving in and out of the streets. The city was the second largest in Davar, growing into its position as the second most important city after the city of Dava. The city also had a firm reputation as a government city, as it was called the “second capital”. While the Elector resided in Dava, the Council always met in Boro.
The city also bore the easiest recognizable marks of being a designed city. The streets were laid out symmetrically, a repeating pattern: every block was a square, bigger than the one closer to the middle and smaller than the one around it. The middle of every block coordinated with the middle of the city, the Czan, which housed the Council.
Canan, however, was going in the complete opposite direction: heading to the outskirts of the city. He winded his way through off the main road and into the cramped alleys. Unlike some of the more crowded cities, the alleys of Boro were actually pretty clean due to the way the city was designed.
Canan finally managed to make his way to the outskirts of the city. He made his way from the alley onto the main road. He then made his way down the long road to a large gate that stood opposite the road. He confidently walked through the gate, past the guards, and into the complex.
-March 14, 1122
-My name is Canan Ovran. My father is Joel Ovran, and my mother was Kalie Ovran. She passed away unfortunately some three years ago from the coughing. My wife is Adan, and my son is Veyrn. I reside at forty-three Johannes block, third from the middle of the city of Boro.
The Moneil is responsible for this record. He had ordered for adrils* to be handed out to the men; so that they could keep record of every man. The thin books of papyrus were handed out the next week and every man has been ordered to keep record his experiences. They say that our records could be used for future expeditions, to correct any problems that occur during this expedition.
-March 29, 1122
-My unit was called up yesterday, along with the other six thousand men promised for the campaign. The Council voted unanimously some two weeks ago to aid the Veritas government once more, promising to send at least six thousand men for their campaign. And so they kept their word. Nearly the entire army was promised for the expansion of the war. But hopefully this will be the last battle.
The Veritasian correspondent to the Council had promised help for the campaign from two other sources also. The king of Emor had promised troops to aid in the campaign and the Island king* had promised that also. The campaign was looking to have a total of around some thirty thousand men all together. Enough to win a quick and decisive war, especially with the Veritasian commander Delgani at the helm.
-March 30, 1122
-We have been given just two days more before we have to prepare to leave. We all have been tasked to get our affairs in order. I personally spent the previous day with my family, preparing for the dauntless task presented to us. My father has promised to assist my own family while I am away.
I sit here, writing in the shadow light, thinking of the future. How long will this endeavor take us to complete, and at what cost shall it be done?
-April 2nd, 1122
-We have departed from the city of Boro, destined to meet up with the other five divisions at Lone before we depart for Veritas. It was a sad departs, for many of us that go with it. I saw Adan last night during the parade, standing off to the side. She stood there, watching in a sobering silence. Veyrn resided upon her shoulders, waving his petite arms in the air; attempting to draw my attention.
April 25, 1122
-We have finally reached Lone and met up with the rest of the army. Only the third division from Bant has yet to arrive. Many estimate their arrival in less than a week, and after that we all must march to the outskirts of Kallamas to join with the Veritasian army.
The sheer number of men already present is overwhelming. Five thousand men cramped into the tiny bend near the Crono, some ten miles west of Lone. The camp is of the usual design: small wooden tents constructed to hold four men a piece. The Dineil had ordered the men to be lumped together under a sergiá, four sergiás lumped together under a dodgiá, and four dodgiá lumped together under a niél.
Camp life isn’t that bad, through I’m glad our unit was one of the last to arrive. The place is extremely crowded and there isn’t much water. But, like always, you have to make the best out of what you’re given. Through not much can be made out of the gruel they call food.
April 28, 1122
-Reports give the 3rd division less than a day away. Orders have already been given to prepare to leave. We were lucky to get here early as the 3rd division will only get a day’s rest. We head out to Veritas on the day after tomorrow.
May 23, 1122
-We arrived at Kallamas today, glad to finally be able to rest after a long trek. Not to say much but the land in this country is not like home. I swear we crossed at least ten mountains and some forty hills.
The land around here shows no similarity to the plains of home. Hill after hill, never ceasing in their order. Each time you reach for the top of a hill you think it’s over, and yet after you reach the top you find another dozen lying in wait. It brings almost a sick feeling to the gut after a while of traveling in this land.
The camp brings up memories of the Lone camp, except that it dwarfs even it in size. Where only six thousand was at Lone, some sixteen thousand are stationed here. Cramped doesn’t even begin to describe the situation. Also the river is nothing more than a small outlet, nowhere near large enough for a host of this size.
The one thing that I can write in a positive tone about is the food of the land. Where we had mangy soup to eat back in Lone, they actually know that you can’t live off of soup everyday. Usual rations include (a big surprise) soup, but also now they offer some greens and at least a small portion of bread (whether or not it is fresh is anyone’s guess.)
As I finish this entry, I must say that I can only hope for the end already; even through I know it has yet to really begin.
June 18, 1122
We are on the move once again. After all of the Veritasian army had been gathered the orders were issued. Sixteen thousand men marching at once is a miraculously sight in itself; something that draws the attention of all those around. Only by sheer will and determination have we kept moving. The Veritasian government has sent much of the supplies that supports the army.
While we do draw the curious gazes of those who see us marching along the road, I believe that they do not know our true mission. I end this writing wondering when we will arrive and hoping for the end of this mission as soon as possible.
August 12, 1122
-We have won a small victory at Netsihasko, easily crushing the unprepared garrision in the border town. It wasn’t a true victory ,however, as the Khermian guards managed to flee away from the battlefield at the last moment and snatch victory away from us. One only knows how furious Delgani is at the failure of a decisive win.
Word has came of the complete defeat of the Veritasian navy outside the Wardush. The defeat casts little despair as we all continue to march. Delgani is determined to smash the crystalists once and for all. Reports have came in of their flight into the hills north of Tehrex. Delgani has ordered for the complete advancement of the army against the fleeing troops as they are headed into a valley with no exit.
August 15, 1122
Delgani is furious once more. There has been no sight of the Kehkoxe or Emorian armies as of yet. While troubling to most of the army, Delgani still has his eyes set on a complete victory. He reckons the missing armies to be on the west coast, effectively creating a two front war. It is so that Delgani has ordered nearly the entire army forward, waiting to crush the crystalists between the hammer and the anvil………………
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;"- 23 Psalm.
–"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;"-23 psalm.
Canan groaned as the first rays of morning filtered in through the cracks in the clay walls. He shifted in the bed as the light demanded a rise from him. The bed wasn’t anything special, just a pile of straw stuffed into wool bag underneath the thin sheets. The light, white cottons were a wedding gift from his own father some four years ago. The man stirred again as signs of life echoed from the other side of the thin earth walls. He let out a muffled groan and threw the sheets off of his half of the bed.
He heaved his body out of the bed and stumbled across the room silently to the washstand. The small tub had been filled the previous day, so naturally the water was stale. Still it was refreshing enough to wake the man up. Canan dipped his hands into the basin of water and quickly raised them to his brow, letting the murky water run back through the tangled mess of hair. He then pushed his fingers through the blond mess and straightened the long strands out.
He quietly crossed the room again to where his clothes lay, neatly arranged the day before. He donned the military uniform, the standard for every soldier in the army: leather shorts and a white cotton shirt. He then sat down on the small crate that served as a chair and laced the leather sandals up. Satisfied in the way the cloths were adorned, he moved over to the wooden door; quietly as always. He snuck out the door, unobvious to the stirring of two other bodies in the room.
Outside the room the city of Boro was gradually stirring to life. The room was nothing spectacular: just a one room apartment on the second floor of the compound. It was a large sandstone complex, three stories tall, with no windows. Each had three stories and five apartments on each level. The bottom floor was always the poorest, while the middle and third floors were usually reserved for the better-than-usual incomes.
Canan emerged into the bustling street from the fifth door on the bottom floor, quietly replacing the door on its hinges. His hair was long, golden and slicked back with morning water. He stood of average height, standing around five-and-a-half feet tall. His eyes were a clear blue, as if drawn from when morning first drew.
He made his way through the burgeoning streets, weaving in and out of the streets. The city was the second largest in Davar, growing into its position as the second most important city after the city of Dava. The city also had a firm reputation as a government city, as it was called the “second capital”. While the Elector resided in Dava, the Council always met in Boro.
The city also bore the easiest recognizable marks of being a designed city. The streets were laid out symmetrically, a repeating pattern: every block was a square, bigger than the one closer to the middle and smaller than the one around it. The middle of every block coordinated with the middle of the city, the Czan, which housed the Council.
Canan, however, was going in the complete opposite direction: heading to the outskirts of the city. He winded his way through off the main road and into the cramped alleys. Unlike some of the more crowded cities, the alleys of Boro were actually pretty clean due to the way the city was designed.
Canan finally managed to make his way to the outskirts of the city. He made his way from the alley onto the main road. He then made his way down the long road to a large gate that stood opposite the road. He confidently walked through the gate, past the guards, and into the complex.
-March 14, 1122
-My name is Canan Ovran. My father is Joel Ovran, and my mother was Kalie Ovran. She passed away unfortunately some three years ago from the coughing. My wife is Adan, and my son is Veyrn. I reside at forty-three Johannes block, third from the middle of the city of Boro.
The Moneil is responsible for this record. He had ordered for adrils* to be handed out to the men; so that they could keep record of every man. The thin books of papyrus were handed out the next week and every man has been ordered to keep record his experiences. They say that our records could be used for future expeditions, to correct any problems that occur during this expedition.
-March 29, 1122
-My unit was called up yesterday, along with the other six thousand men promised for the campaign. The Council voted unanimously some two weeks ago to aid the Veritas government once more, promising to send at least six thousand men for their campaign. And so they kept their word. Nearly the entire army was promised for the expansion of the war. But hopefully this will be the last battle.
The Veritasian correspondent to the Council had promised help for the campaign from two other sources also. The king of Emor had promised troops to aid in the campaign and the Island king* had promised that also. The campaign was looking to have a total of around some thirty thousand men all together. Enough to win a quick and decisive war, especially with the Veritasian commander Delgani at the helm.
-March 30, 1122
-We have been given just two days more before we have to prepare to leave. We all have been tasked to get our affairs in order. I personally spent the previous day with my family, preparing for the dauntless task presented to us. My father has promised to assist my own family while I am away.
I sit here, writing in the shadow light, thinking of the future. How long will this endeavor take us to complete, and at what cost shall it be done?
-April 2nd, 1122
-We have departed from the city of Boro, destined to meet up with the other five divisions at Lone before we depart for Veritas. It was a sad departs, for many of us that go with it. I saw Adan last night during the parade, standing off to the side. She stood there, watching in a sobering silence. Veyrn resided upon her shoulders, waving his petite arms in the air; attempting to draw my attention.
April 25, 1122
-We have finally reached Lone and met up with the rest of the army. Only the third division from Bant has yet to arrive. Many estimate their arrival in less than a week, and after that we all must march to the outskirts of Kallamas to join with the Veritasian army.
The sheer number of men already present is overwhelming. Five thousand men cramped into the tiny bend near the Crono, some ten miles west of Lone. The camp is of the usual design: small wooden tents constructed to hold four men a piece. The Dineil had ordered the men to be lumped together under a sergiá, four sergiás lumped together under a dodgiá, and four dodgiá lumped together under a niél.
Camp life isn’t that bad, through I’m glad our unit was one of the last to arrive. The place is extremely crowded and there isn’t much water. But, like always, you have to make the best out of what you’re given. Through not much can be made out of the gruel they call food.
April 28, 1122
-Reports give the 3rd division less than a day away. Orders have already been given to prepare to leave. We were lucky to get here early as the 3rd division will only get a day’s rest. We head out to Veritas on the day after tomorrow.
May 23, 1122
-We arrived at Kallamas today, glad to finally be able to rest after a long trek. Not to say much but the land in this country is not like home. I swear we crossed at least ten mountains and some forty hills.
The land around here shows no similarity to the plains of home. Hill after hill, never ceasing in their order. Each time you reach for the top of a hill you think it’s over, and yet after you reach the top you find another dozen lying in wait. It brings almost a sick feeling to the gut after a while of traveling in this land.
The camp brings up memories of the Lone camp, except that it dwarfs even it in size. Where only six thousand was at Lone, some sixteen thousand are stationed here. Cramped doesn’t even begin to describe the situation. Also the river is nothing more than a small outlet, nowhere near large enough for a host of this size.
The one thing that I can write in a positive tone about is the food of the land. Where we had mangy soup to eat back in Lone, they actually know that you can’t live off of soup everyday. Usual rations include (a big surprise) soup, but also now they offer some greens and at least a small portion of bread (whether or not it is fresh is anyone’s guess.)
As I finish this entry, I must say that I can only hope for the end already; even through I know it has yet to really begin.
June 18, 1122
We are on the move once again. After all of the Veritasian army had been gathered the orders were issued. Sixteen thousand men marching at once is a miraculously sight in itself; something that draws the attention of all those around. Only by sheer will and determination have we kept moving. The Veritasian government has sent much of the supplies that supports the army.
While we do draw the curious gazes of those who see us marching along the road, I believe that they do not know our true mission. I end this writing wondering when we will arrive and hoping for the end of this mission as soon as possible.
August 12, 1122
-We have won a small victory at Netsihasko, easily crushing the unprepared garrision in the border town. It wasn’t a true victory ,however, as the Khermian guards managed to flee away from the battlefield at the last moment and snatch victory away from us. One only knows how furious Delgani is at the failure of a decisive win.
Word has came of the complete defeat of the Veritasian navy outside the Wardush. The defeat casts little despair as we all continue to march. Delgani is determined to smash the crystalists once and for all. Reports have came in of their flight into the hills north of Tehrex. Delgani has ordered for the complete advancement of the army against the fleeing troops as they are headed into a valley with no exit.
August 15, 1122
Delgani is furious once more. There has been no sight of the Kehkoxe or Emorian armies as of yet. While troubling to most of the army, Delgani still has his eyes set on a complete victory. He reckons the missing armies to be on the west coast, effectively creating a two front war. It is so that Delgani has ordered nearly the entire army forward, waiting to crush the crystalists between the hammer and the anvil………………
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;"- 23 Psalm.
Swissempire
Poet Jester
Nice story Could you PM me what you need fr my races desriptions///
Could you PM me what you need fr my races desriptions///
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
Orders sent 
Isn't a division 10,000 men? 
Isn't a division 10,000 men? 
TerrisH
Mischief?
Swissempire, Contempt. I have an Idea for a story-thing. but, as they involve your nations, I don't dare write them up myself. If you can cantch me on AIM of MSN, and go along with me a bit, I'll Explain what I want to do, and possibly, I will write something. or you can just tell me no.
soul_warrior
Termite!
dropping out of this due to lack of time.
sorry Iggy
can i suggets the NPCd gammoreans sign peace and buidl up the HOrse to counter the hordes of hell?
sorry Iggy
can i suggets the NPCd gammoreans sign peace and buidl up the HOrse to counter the hordes of hell?
Swissempire
Poet Jester
Terris get on
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Lord_Iggy said:
UNTRUE!
<.<
>.>
Part Two coming later tonight, probably after the update.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
OOC: Who does the major war involve? CAN'T WAIT!!! 
CAN'T WAIT!!! 
"Lengelzai, I hail you. I am Host-Lord Illian Vantias, and I come from the South, where I fought many wars for my country. But we were defeated, my Stratikrator was killed, and our armies were disbanded. The people of the West have destroyed my nation, which was both great and beautiful. And I hate them for it. I killed some of your men, but only to prove that the same can be done to the Westrons a thousandfold, under your command."
He paused, and then continued.
"I can teach your people the secrets of forging bronze, a metal more powerful than what you use. And with me are two men, who once built great towers of wood and metal that can breach the walls of the highest city. I am no Lengel. But I want revenge. And in return for the chance to get it, my army will aid your horde in creating the greatest Empire known on the face of Tellus."
The Lengelzai looked at the Veritasan commander. And he looked at his blade, and his armor, and the two scholars cowering behind him.
And he began to laugh.
A huge smile almost split the Lengelzai's face, his jovial smile offset by the intelligence of a military commander, looking at the strange sword with a dark hunger. Oh yes, many enemies could be felled with such a blade, and many arrows tipped with such a substance could rout the greatest army.
"You say you are not Lengel, strange Host-Lord from the land of Metal," the Lengelzai began, as the two scholars attempted to translate as best they could, the barbarian warrior unsettling them greatly, "but already you understand what it means to be Lengel. You can serve a different God, wear different clothes, have different names, but as long as you serve the War-Host, as long as you serve me, you are Lengel."
Once the scholars finished translating, the former Host-Lord smiled slightly, and offered his hand to the Lengelzai. "It does not matter what banner I serve, as long as I may slaughter Westerners."
The Lengelzai looked at the hand for a moment, before the scholars explained what the action meant. After the explanation, the Lengelzai took the Host-Lord's hand, and squeezed hard, as Vantias did the same.
"Spoken like a true Lengel. Now come, let us have...conversation concerning these Southern lands..."
The Lengelzai, his Lengel generals, and the former Host-Lord sat in the War tent looking over various maps of Nkondi, and Maugot, gathered by the Lengel War-Host's many and skilled scouts. Invasion plans were being drawn. Argument's broke out about the placement of numbers as small as 500 men, as the War-Host deliberated upon the best paths of invasion, and the best way to crush the enemies troops.
Vanitas was arguing with several generals about the best location for his troops, asserting that it would be better for him to take the 'Blue' path, since his troops would be better suited to holding an enemy army than the Lengel War-Host.
"I firmly suggest that my troops be sent where we can be of most use!" Vanitas said, his omnipresent scholars translating for him while the Lengelzai and him had a dispute.
The Lengelzai frowned slightly, "Our troops mobility cannot be compromised! It is a better to allow your troops to make the best use of your Scholars talents in city breaking! I want your troops to travel through the mountains, and flank these southerner's cities, as your troops are more suited to traveling the mountains than our horse hordes."
Vanitas, once the scholars translated, took a deep breath and then spoke, "Why not a compromise? Why not do both?"
The Lengelzai considered it for a moment, and then nodded his agreement. "Very well, I will allow you to go with 'Blue' group into Nkondi with half of your men, while the other half will go with General Jebe through the mountains to flank. If there is nothing else..."
With that, the Lengelzai left the War Tent, while the former Host-Lord, and now a War-Host of the Lengels, Vanitas smiled in victory. Soon, he would fight against the Southerners, and then beyond that, the damnable Westerners...
He paused, and then continued.
"I can teach your people the secrets of forging bronze, a metal more powerful than what you use. And with me are two men, who once built great towers of wood and metal that can breach the walls of the highest city. I am no Lengel. But I want revenge. And in return for the chance to get it, my army will aid your horde in creating the greatest Empire known on the face of Tellus."
The Lengelzai looked at the Veritasan commander. And he looked at his blade, and his armor, and the two scholars cowering behind him.
And he began to laugh.
A huge smile almost split the Lengelzai's face, his jovial smile offset by the intelligence of a military commander, looking at the strange sword with a dark hunger. Oh yes, many enemies could be felled with such a blade, and many arrows tipped with such a substance could rout the greatest army.
"You say you are not Lengel, strange Host-Lord from the land of Metal," the Lengelzai began, as the two scholars attempted to translate as best they could, the barbarian warrior unsettling them greatly, "but already you understand what it means to be Lengel. You can serve a different God, wear different clothes, have different names, but as long as you serve the War-Host, as long as you serve me, you are Lengel."
Once the scholars finished translating, the former Host-Lord smiled slightly, and offered his hand to the Lengelzai. "It does not matter what banner I serve, as long as I may slaughter Westerners."
The Lengelzai looked at the hand for a moment, before the scholars explained what the action meant. After the explanation, the Lengelzai took the Host-Lord's hand, and squeezed hard, as Vantias did the same.
"Spoken like a true Lengel. Now come, let us have...conversation concerning these Southern lands..."
******
The Lengelzai, his Lengel generals, and the former Host-Lord sat in the War tent looking over various maps of Nkondi, and Maugot, gathered by the Lengel War-Host's many and skilled scouts. Invasion plans were being drawn. Argument's broke out about the placement of numbers as small as 500 men, as the War-Host deliberated upon the best paths of invasion, and the best way to crush the enemies troops.
Vanitas was arguing with several generals about the best location for his troops, asserting that it would be better for him to take the 'Blue' path, since his troops would be better suited to holding an enemy army than the Lengel War-Host.
"I firmly suggest that my troops be sent where we can be of most use!" Vanitas said, his omnipresent scholars translating for him while the Lengelzai and him had a dispute.
The Lengelzai frowned slightly, "Our troops mobility cannot be compromised! It is a better to allow your troops to make the best use of your Scholars talents in city breaking! I want your troops to travel through the mountains, and flank these southerner's cities, as your troops are more suited to traveling the mountains than our horse hordes."
Vanitas, once the scholars translated, took a deep breath and then spoke, "Why not a compromise? Why not do both?"
The Lengelzai considered it for a moment, and then nodded his agreement. "Very well, I will allow you to go with 'Blue' group into Nkondi with half of your men, while the other half will go with General Jebe through the mountains to flank. If there is nothing else..."
With that, the Lengelzai left the War Tent, while the former Host-Lord, and now a War-Host of the Lengels, Vanitas smiled in victory. Soon, he would fight against the Southerners, and then beyond that, the damnable Westerners...
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
OOC: NOOO!!!! I WON'T BE ABLE TO READ IT UNTIL I GET BACK FROM MY PIANO THEORY EXAMINATION! :CRY: I just found it out was on caps until now Just tell me how my stuff went so I can leave in peace
Just tell me how my stuff went so I can leave in peace
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
OOC: I'm taking level 5 after I failed it the first time, my parents had quite a fit... Royal Music, not CMS
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