jalapeno_dude
AKA Panda Judo Eel
My entire evil plan is based on those free education levels!Lord_Iggy said:
LINESII- Into the Darkness
- Thread starter Lord_Iggy
- Start date
~Darkening~
Weep, Mother.
Sorry, get it right. Gerber, Tristaria, and Veritas have already signed
my treaty. The get my land west of the Kalmar, I get theirs that is east. Trist gets what it took.
Kentharu
Zebra Commander
bah w/e i dont give a crap anymore
jalapeno_dude
AKA Panda Judo Eel
Preliminary orders sent for the next few updates. I'll be gone from Friday until the 18th or 19th. Please don't kill me.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
Eye of the Storm 2
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire!
The place was the royal audience chamber, a room that was rarely seen by commoners. The chamber was decorated with superb taste in furnishings though in all truths it was dominated by the Dragon Throne. The Dragon Throne, the Throne of the Guangfei Emperors. (Only one Emperor so far technically, but whos going to argue?)What the hand dare seize the fire!
While appearing to have been crafted out of pure gold laced with figures of dragons and the Emperors supposedly divine ancestry in reality the gold was only an outer covering. The chair was really made of fine wood that gave off a perfumed smell that was highly valuable. But I digress
The sole occupant of the chamber was the Emperor, the Empress, a young woman by the name of Xi Shi, an officer and the Prime Minister. The Emperor and Empress were both dressed in royal finery wearing silk of black showing a dragon for the Emperor, and a phoenix for the Empress. Xi Shi wore the customary outfit of nobility though whose beauty seemed to lit the room. The officer a young man by all accounts was visibly entranced with Xi Shis beauty and had been gaping at her before the entrance of royalty changed his focus.
The Prime Minister on the hand, a grizzled old survivor of court intrigues and domestic calamities as well as tranquility had given Xi Shi hardly a look when they waited for royaltys entrance. When all the formal pleasantries had been extended and done the Prime Minister was the first to break the silence in a clear and ponderous voice:
Your Majesty, as you are undoubtedly aware of the formation of the Shangei League poses a large threat to your nation of Guangfei. Their capitol, Shangei however is quite close to our border and with a quick strike we should be able to take their capitol and demoralize the remnants of their army. With the control of their central government apparatus we should be able to disrupt any resistance against us an
Here the Emperor interrupted him with a raised palm and spoke in an interrogative tone with a glare at the elderly man:
As I already said before, we will not be attacking Shangei! Minister, your caution is duly noted, but as I said before, Xi Shi will deal with all our problems.
The Prime Minister had a stoic expression on his face expressing his doubt over his monarchs steadfast opinion on the matter. Seeing said expression, the Emperor chuckled and waved Xi Shi to come forward.
Xi Shi by all reckoning of society and men in general was a prized specimen, if she was born a few thousand years later she would have been an excellent actress. If she had been born to a royal family, she would have been an excellent diplomat. With long thick brown hair and bright brown eyes with a slender nose, long eye lashes and a small well formed mouth she was beautiful beyond reckoning. If she had ever met the Head of the Church of One, a well known celibate, it isnt absurd at all that the impotent old man would have felt a stir in his loins.
Xi Shi bowed her head at the Emperors gesture and awaited his words of command. For the glory of Guangfei she had been told, that she would bring honor to her family for generations if she succeeded. That was why she was here, instead of being married to a wealthy official and a mother.
Xi Shi, you know where you will be going, Shangei. There, you will be presented by the ambassador as a gift to the strongest of Shangei. While I believe initially there will be no quarrel over you as of yet since theyll probably give you to the Head of their Council. From there when youve been established, I want you to entice the other members of the council, or at least their eager young sons. Disrupt the assumed good relations between the various cities and clans so that it will hopefully disrupt any major activity.
As the Emperor finished speaking, the officer spoke up with minute hesitation:
Of course,(bows to the Emperor) the best choice of well a candidate to disrupt them would be a high ranking military officer. A young high ranking officer that is with well forces under his command relatively close to Shangei. Do try to infuriate the officer with veiled remarks about how your eh friend is against him and how he ah wants to prevent you from being used by eh.. other people.
The officer by the end his speech was as red as a cherry and kept on glancing at the Emperor to see if he took offense. To his surprise the Emperor and the Empress had both begin laughing very loudly at his discomfort originally as wide grins though they failed to control their laughter as he progressed. Finally, the Empress managed to gain enough control over herself that she was able to address Xi Shi:
Remember one thing, and one thing only. These men may say what they want, but its your life. Your duty to your country. Do whatever you need to secure our goal. Succeed and fame for a thousand generations shall be yours. Fail, and nothing shall ever be known about you. Ever.
As if recognizing the dismissal, all three figures retreated and left the chamber leaving the Emperor and the Empress both with grim faces as they looked at the young woman they had sent in their minds to death
jalapeno_dude
AKA Panda Judo Eel
What might this be, Iggy? 
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
Wow... You actually saw that 
Oruc
Reactionary
you need help
Kentharu
Zebra Commander
LMAO well we all know who has a lot of free time
jalapeno_dude
AKA Panda Judo Eel
I had reason to be examining that part of the map closely... 
~Darkening~
Weep, Mother.
OOC: My first attempt at a first person story, so forgive.
“My name is Pire……………”
The baker picked up the large wooden handle and slid it out of the stone oven. Breathing in deeply, he turned on his feet and slid the loaves off the wood and onto the cooling table. The man set the wooden extension down and moved over to small window. He quickly drew the window open, separating the stone from wood.
A few minutes later a head popped out from under the windowsill. With long, greasy black hair and hazel eyes, the boy was the perfect icon for ragamuffins.
“…………………and in a thousand years………"
The boy slowly raised his head above the windowsill, cautiously gazing around the large, open room. The baker stood in front of a granite counter, serving customers and taking money.
The boy, mouth watering, slowly reached a hand through the window. Staring strait ahead at the baker, the boy slowly clamped his hands around a fresh, hot loaf. The boy quickly jerked his hand back, bringing the loaf with him as he tore off down the alley behind the bakery.
The baker, running low on fresh loaves to sell, turns around and walks back to the open window. Noticing a loaf missing, he sticks his head out the window and stares down the alley. He spots a young boy, huddled up behind a couple of crates near the main street. Sighing and shaking his head, the man pulls the window down except for a crack.
“………my name will be spoken…………”
The same boy, a few years older this time, hurls his petite fist into the nose of a much larger boy. His coal-black hair had grown out to reach beyond his back, although it was still muddled and sprawled out in an unkempt fashion. He wears a snarl upon his face, some rattled wool pants, and doesn’t possess a shirt to his name. The boy he is fighting is much larger than himself; the boy standing just at shoulder of the other boy.
“……………………………………………all across the know land.”
The older boy staggers back, clutching his nose in one hand. The pair was surrounded by a large crowd of young boys, forming a circle around them. The older boy, still clutching his nose in one hand, charges at the smaller boy. He hurled his fist at the smaller boy, raging a breakneck pace at the boy. However, before the bigger boy could touch the younger one, a thick pair of hands seized him by the collar. The crowd dispersed immediately as the guards broke into it.
The boy lays sprawled out across the floor, a thick metal chain wrapped around his left wrist. The boy’s hair, still as matted, reaches now about halfway down his back. Sunlight trickles into the small cell from a corner window, set high up in the wall. The boy lets out a small groan, tossing in his sleep.
The boy jolts up suddenly, nearly snapping backwards from the lack of available chain. Pebbles and rocks plummet from the loose ceiling and the sole object in the room, a small chamber pot, shakes violently with the room. Letting out a small yell, the boy winces as a large slab of rock plummets from the ceiling and crash, breaking apart into smaller wedges, behind him. After a few minutes the ground ceases to shake and the sun pours into the small room. Suddenly realizing the rusty chain had been severed from the falling rock, the boy made a sudden dash for freedom: climbing up the various fallen rocks and climbing out of the cell. Upon the reaching the roof he dashed over to the roof side and slowly climbed down. After reaching the bottom, he finally apprehended that his face had been cut open from a small rock. A small crescent shaped slash now rested upon the boy’s brow.
“And during those many years a new order shall be established.
The boy lays slouched against a slum wall, greasy hair falling into his face. His hazel eyes were closed, chest slowly filling in and out with each passing breath. He remained shirtless, his wool pants closer to black than white. One eyelid fluttered open for a second, gazing at the main road out of the corner of his eye.
The boy’s eye was drawn to a large gathering, men forming a thick circle in front of the alleyway. Standing up and stretching, the boy lazily made his way over to the commotion. The crowd was thick and impenetrable, but the boy was smarter. He quickly backed down out of the crowd and moved to the other end of the alley. He worked quickly, seizing and dragging empty crates from that end and stacking them on top of each other. With his task done the boy climbed onto the crates and stared over the crowd.
“Word shall spread across the seas, such as a plague spreas through it's victoms."
A large man stood on a wooden platform in the middle of the crowd. He was the largest man that the boy had ever seen. He was easily double the size of the boy, easily clearing the tops of other men. He was rich, extremely rich from the look of it. He wore thin cotton pants along with a white cotton shirt. Around his waist was a belt made from the finest leather, and he actually wore shoes upon his feet. He spoke with a deep, almost guttural voice; commanding attention and respect from all those who had gathered.
“Gather around men, young and old alike! Listen as I weave my tale for you to listen and you shall be rewarded beyond your dreams. One thing is upon your minds, one thing that will consume those minds. War! Needlessly I shall remind you that our republic has just declared war upon the infidels of the west. Not only that, but plans are already being crafted for the aid of the Tristarians in the Gerber war.
You all know that our army is severely understaffed. Nothing unexpected after the civil war, after all. Right now the top generals have put out a call for some fifteen thousand men to fight in this war. Yet, at the moment we are not even close to making half that number. So, at the bidding of the council and the Elector, I am here with a message!
The call has been sent out and now just one question remains! Will you honor your country and serve her faithfully or will you be a disgrace and turn your back on those who have aided us in the past!”
“What is in it for us?!” A random man called out from the crowd.
“Trust me my good friend, you will receive plenty of reward for this task! Along with honor and pride you will receive you will all get room and board, fresh uniforms, and ten druks* a year!” The crowd broke out into cheers with the offer of the monetary reward. “Meet at the barracks and enlist today! Serve your country with your head held up! Join the brotherhood of the army!”
“…………………Upon the back of the old has our society been established. And upon the backs of the young shall the new world be constructed."
Off to the side the boy listens carefully. He gazes around at the slum he called “home”, taking in the refuse and filth. And with a sigh they boy stares off at the crowd, all marching towards the barracks. A smile breaks out on the boy’s face as he jumps down off the crates and marches towards the barracks with his brothers.
“Ohhh mannnn…..” I moaned, wiping the sweat off my brow. The sun beat down mercilessly over the Kalmar Mountains, punishing every man within the valley. The bronze armor was unusually stifling in the high mountains. Especially with these damned new uniforms designed by the Moneil. I gazed over to my right, casting a curious glance at the scene.
To the right stood the Dineil, surrounded by his assembled sergiás. The group was discussing something, with one of the sergiás waving his hands around for emphasis. He was a large man, strangely familiar. Tall, with a thick beard. The group broke apart after a few more minutes, with the entire crowd fanning out.
The Dineil moved to the front of the column, his short blond hair blowing in the high mountain air. He spoke with a thick voice, low in pitch and high in menace. “Gather around! Gather around!” The army gathered around the man, forming a gigantic circle that nearly swelled over the entire valley. “First off, we’re making good progress! We have been given six months to reach the descent, and we’re already over halfway there in the second!” The crowd let a small cheer, followed by the usual bragging. “I expect for us to be at the descent in less than half the time allotted to us! And so, as a reward for your hard work, I’m giving you all the rest of the week! That’s right; the next three days are yours. Set up your tents and enjoy the break, cause it’ll be the last one you get for a while.” He called out before walking away. The crowd immediately started to rejoice; it wasn’t every day that you received this good of a break.
I laughed with the other men, exchanging handshakes and congratulations. Then I moved over to a line that had formed near the Dineil’s tent to get my own. The wait was about thirty minutes before I finally reached the front of the line. An hour later I was finished collecting everything and made off to find a suitable spot.
The valley was nestled between two of the highest mountains in the Kalmar range: Mt. Despars and Mt. Sanuir. Naturally it was pretty large in length wise, but only fairly average when dealing with length. A small stream made its course through the valley, running nearly through the smack-dab of the valley. The valley had been inhabited some centuries ago, but it had been abandoned in the last few.
I finally found a spot, a little notch against the rising mountains. It was pretty close to a drop-off cliff, and was fairly close to the beginning of the stream- a few minutes walk. I managed to set the tent up with little difficulty, snapping the wooden rods in place in quick fashion. Then I deposited my bag into the tent and sat down outside in the bright sun.
I pulled out a thin manuscript from my belt. The pages were old and wrinkled, not mention well on their way in fading, but nevertheless it was a book. It was a gift from my grandfather. He had raised me since the death of both of my parents from the red death some thirteen years prior. It was his goal of teaching me to read before he died, and he had been barley able to accomplish it. The old man had died himself just after my ninth birthday. The book, titled War and Religion, was somewhat boring, but it was at least something to read at all.
“You can read?” A voice spoke out of nowhere, sounding surprised and startling me out of the thoughts. The large man from earlier was back, towering over me.
“Yeah. My grandfather taught shortly before he died.”
“Interesting. Very interesting. You could come in great use to the Dineil. You must remind me to speak with him after all this over.”
“I would be appreciative if you would, good sir.”
“It wouldn’t be a problem. Good day.” The man turned around as if to walk away. But he stopped before he could get very far. “Oh! I almost forgot about why I came here in the first place!” He fished around in a pocket be protruding a thin piece of parchment. “Here! I thought that I would have to read it you, but I guess not. Enjoy.” He said, tossing the paper and walking off.
The paper was crinkled and old, nearly as yellow as the book. In large letters was a message written across the paper in black ink. ‘Go to the Dineil’s tent. Bring this letter. And supplies.” I stood up hesitantly, staring at the paper. With a sigh, I reached into the tent and grabbed my bag and headed off to the Dineil’s tent.
The Dineil lay splayed out across a small couch. The “tent” that he was stationed in was too large to be one, and yet for the lack of a better word, it was a “tent”. A large table was placed in one corner with the couch cattycornered in another. Ten or thirteen other men stood around him, an open ear ready for listening.
“About time. All the others have already been here.” He grunted, sitting up and indicating to the other men. “Anyways, welcome. I would offer you fruit and drink, but alas for you all have been selected for a very important mission. The reason that we have stopped is not because we are ahead of the schedule, but rather we are ahead of our resources. Unfortunately, the three scouts that we have sent out have not returned. And without directions, we cannot progress any further. So this where you all come in. Your mission is to find these scouts and, if possible, find a way through these mountains. Do this and you will be rewarded!”
The man politely pushed the cup towards me, offering the hot beverage. “Drink.” He said slowly. He was old, with wrinkled skin and a pair of spectacles resting on his brow. A few strands of white hair receded from his crown, and he wore loose, rumpled robes.
“…..No thank you. I’m already late and must be going.” I replied politely, pushing the chipped cup away.
“I said drink.” The man shoved the cup back, sloshing a little out of the side. Weakly, I accepted the drink and slowly pour the steaming liquid down. “Tell me boy, how did you get all the way out here?”
I blushed. “Errh…. I was supposed to be scouting for the army, but I got lost a couple days ago.” I pushed the cup back to the old man.
The man smiled before taking the cup. “How long? You looked pretty bad when I found you out in the snow.”
“…..A week.” I said before taking the cup back, full once more. The tea wasn’t that bad after you got a taste of it. “I met some of the villagers at the summit who pointed me back down the mountain, but I fell climbing down and got lost. Then you found me.”
“What are doing up? Traveling?”
“No. I’m with the army.” I said, bearing a smile for the first time.
“Army?” He questioned, looking puzzled.
“Uhhh yeah. You know, the First Davian Regiment?”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you join the army?”
“Why else? They pay out of their butts.”
“But why did you join the army?”
“…The benefits, like I just said.” I said, giving the old man a crazy look.
“No. I didn’t ask you for what you joined for. I asked you why you joined.” I was quiet for a second as what the man said sunk in.
“…..I don’t know. Serve with pride?”
The man laughed. “Son, there is no “serving with pride.” That’s just a lie they made up to defend their warmongering.”
“That’s a lie. We’re here to aid an ally, to help a friend.”
“Help a friend.” The old man laughed again. “I hope that they’re really paying out of their butts if they managed to get you to believe that piece of crap.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Come on kid, think about it. The republic is growing, right? And where does everyone go? There aren’t even close to enough jobs in the country, much less enough for half of the population. And what percentage of the population do you think is the most unemployed? The poor of course. And so what do they do with the poor? Shove them in the army to take more land. So the population grows from the extra land and the result is a vicious cycle.”
“So what do I do? Just get up and walk off without completing my tour?”
“If you wish.” The old man said, getting up out of the chair and moving over and lighting a fire in the wood stove. “But you’ll get out of the army one way for sure.”
“How?”
“By getting yourself killed of course. Just run if front of a spear and you won’t have any problems getting discharged.
”Stop joking. I’m serious here!” I yelled. The man was making sense, and now the fool was laughing!
“Kid……Who do you believe in?”
“What?” I asked, still steaming.
“Trust me. It’ll all make sense in the end. See, you just went from a “honorable server” to a deserter. Let’s see if we can’t screw you up a little more.” He said smiling. “So who do you worship?”
“……..The One of course, who else?”
“Well, many else. There’s people out there who worship blades, those who worship pieces of rocks, and those who worship their ancestors. But in the end, everyone worships the same way.”
“So! What does that have anything to do with me?!” I stormed. The man was making no sense.
“What do you know about the One Faith?” He asked, suddenly gaining a note of seriousness.
“That people were cast out of heaven for their greediness! Their lust, hunger, and selfishness! That people are basically evil! That we’re all here for nothing.”
“Who taught you that?”
“My grandfather!” I snarled, getting angrier with each passing minute. The man wasn’t making any sense; jumping from topic to topic with little discretion.
“Was your grandfather a convert or was he born into the faith?”
“I don’t know! Why?”
“Cause if he was a convert, then he taught you wrong.”
“How do you know?! You’re probably just some animist!”
“No son. There is only one god in this world.”
“God?” I repeated, sounding the foreign word off my tongue.
“Yes. God. The One. The creator and destroyer of this world.”
My head spun. Destroyer?
The man sighed. “A thousand years ago a man was born. He possessed a spark of the divine, only a spark you see. God talked to the man and told him to spread the word of his being, and those conversations resulted in the Church of the One.”
“I know that! Everyone knows that!”
“Yes, everyone does know that. But you see, a thousand years ago is a long time. The message, while pure in the beginning, has long been lost from it’s original stance.”
“What are you talking about?”
The man dipped the cup into a large barrel of water and drew a cupful of it out. “Here.” He said, passing the cup to me.
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Look in it, of course.” He scoffed. I did as he said, peering into the crystal clear water. My reflection naturally gazed back up at me.
“……..Am I supposed to be seeing something?” I asked, more annoyed than angry now.
“Your reflection of course. You’ve heard that man was created in the image of the One, right?” The man said, laughing once more.
“My name is Pire……………”
The baker picked up the large wooden handle and slid it out of the stone oven. Breathing in deeply, he turned on his feet and slid the loaves off the wood and onto the cooling table. The man set the wooden extension down and moved over to small window. He quickly drew the window open, separating the stone from wood.
A few minutes later a head popped out from under the windowsill. With long, greasy black hair and hazel eyes, the boy was the perfect icon for ragamuffins.
“…………………and in a thousand years………"
The boy slowly raised his head above the windowsill, cautiously gazing around the large, open room. The baker stood in front of a granite counter, serving customers and taking money.
The boy, mouth watering, slowly reached a hand through the window. Staring strait ahead at the baker, the boy slowly clamped his hands around a fresh, hot loaf. The boy quickly jerked his hand back, bringing the loaf with him as he tore off down the alley behind the bakery.
The baker, running low on fresh loaves to sell, turns around and walks back to the open window. Noticing a loaf missing, he sticks his head out the window and stares down the alley. He spots a young boy, huddled up behind a couple of crates near the main street. Sighing and shaking his head, the man pulls the window down except for a crack.
“………my name will be spoken…………”
The same boy, a few years older this time, hurls his petite fist into the nose of a much larger boy. His coal-black hair had grown out to reach beyond his back, although it was still muddled and sprawled out in an unkempt fashion. He wears a snarl upon his face, some rattled wool pants, and doesn’t possess a shirt to his name. The boy he is fighting is much larger than himself; the boy standing just at shoulder of the other boy.
“……………………………………………all across the know land.”
The older boy staggers back, clutching his nose in one hand. The pair was surrounded by a large crowd of young boys, forming a circle around them. The older boy, still clutching his nose in one hand, charges at the smaller boy. He hurled his fist at the smaller boy, raging a breakneck pace at the boy. However, before the bigger boy could touch the younger one, a thick pair of hands seized him by the collar. The crowd dispersed immediately as the guards broke into it.
The boy lays sprawled out across the floor, a thick metal chain wrapped around his left wrist. The boy’s hair, still as matted, reaches now about halfway down his back. Sunlight trickles into the small cell from a corner window, set high up in the wall. The boy lets out a small groan, tossing in his sleep.
The boy jolts up suddenly, nearly snapping backwards from the lack of available chain. Pebbles and rocks plummet from the loose ceiling and the sole object in the room, a small chamber pot, shakes violently with the room. Letting out a small yell, the boy winces as a large slab of rock plummets from the ceiling and crash, breaking apart into smaller wedges, behind him. After a few minutes the ground ceases to shake and the sun pours into the small room. Suddenly realizing the rusty chain had been severed from the falling rock, the boy made a sudden dash for freedom: climbing up the various fallen rocks and climbing out of the cell. Upon the reaching the roof he dashed over to the roof side and slowly climbed down. After reaching the bottom, he finally apprehended that his face had been cut open from a small rock. A small crescent shaped slash now rested upon the boy’s brow.
“And during those many years a new order shall be established.
The boy lays slouched against a slum wall, greasy hair falling into his face. His hazel eyes were closed, chest slowly filling in and out with each passing breath. He remained shirtless, his wool pants closer to black than white. One eyelid fluttered open for a second, gazing at the main road out of the corner of his eye.
The boy’s eye was drawn to a large gathering, men forming a thick circle in front of the alleyway. Standing up and stretching, the boy lazily made his way over to the commotion. The crowd was thick and impenetrable, but the boy was smarter. He quickly backed down out of the crowd and moved to the other end of the alley. He worked quickly, seizing and dragging empty crates from that end and stacking them on top of each other. With his task done the boy climbed onto the crates and stared over the crowd.
“Word shall spread across the seas, such as a plague spreas through it's victoms."
A large man stood on a wooden platform in the middle of the crowd. He was the largest man that the boy had ever seen. He was easily double the size of the boy, easily clearing the tops of other men. He was rich, extremely rich from the look of it. He wore thin cotton pants along with a white cotton shirt. Around his waist was a belt made from the finest leather, and he actually wore shoes upon his feet. He spoke with a deep, almost guttural voice; commanding attention and respect from all those who had gathered.
“Gather around men, young and old alike! Listen as I weave my tale for you to listen and you shall be rewarded beyond your dreams. One thing is upon your minds, one thing that will consume those minds. War! Needlessly I shall remind you that our republic has just declared war upon the infidels of the west. Not only that, but plans are already being crafted for the aid of the Tristarians in the Gerber war.
You all know that our army is severely understaffed. Nothing unexpected after the civil war, after all. Right now the top generals have put out a call for some fifteen thousand men to fight in this war. Yet, at the moment we are not even close to making half that number. So, at the bidding of the council and the Elector, I am here with a message!
The call has been sent out and now just one question remains! Will you honor your country and serve her faithfully or will you be a disgrace and turn your back on those who have aided us in the past!”
“What is in it for us?!” A random man called out from the crowd.
“Trust me my good friend, you will receive plenty of reward for this task! Along with honor and pride you will receive you will all get room and board, fresh uniforms, and ten druks* a year!” The crowd broke out into cheers with the offer of the monetary reward. “Meet at the barracks and enlist today! Serve your country with your head held up! Join the brotherhood of the army!”
“…………………Upon the back of the old has our society been established. And upon the backs of the young shall the new world be constructed."
Off to the side the boy listens carefully. He gazes around at the slum he called “home”, taking in the refuse and filth. And with a sigh they boy stares off at the crowd, all marching towards the barracks. A smile breaks out on the boy’s face as he jumps down off the crates and marches towards the barracks with his brothers.
Chapter One: Angels in disguise.
“Ohhh mannnn…..” I moaned, wiping the sweat off my brow. The sun beat down mercilessly over the Kalmar Mountains, punishing every man within the valley. The bronze armor was unusually stifling in the high mountains. Especially with these damned new uniforms designed by the Moneil. I gazed over to my right, casting a curious glance at the scene.
To the right stood the Dineil, surrounded by his assembled sergiás. The group was discussing something, with one of the sergiás waving his hands around for emphasis. He was a large man, strangely familiar. Tall, with a thick beard. The group broke apart after a few more minutes, with the entire crowd fanning out.
The Dineil moved to the front of the column, his short blond hair blowing in the high mountain air. He spoke with a thick voice, low in pitch and high in menace. “Gather around! Gather around!” The army gathered around the man, forming a gigantic circle that nearly swelled over the entire valley. “First off, we’re making good progress! We have been given six months to reach the descent, and we’re already over halfway there in the second!” The crowd let a small cheer, followed by the usual bragging. “I expect for us to be at the descent in less than half the time allotted to us! And so, as a reward for your hard work, I’m giving you all the rest of the week! That’s right; the next three days are yours. Set up your tents and enjoy the break, cause it’ll be the last one you get for a while.” He called out before walking away. The crowd immediately started to rejoice; it wasn’t every day that you received this good of a break.
I laughed with the other men, exchanging handshakes and congratulations. Then I moved over to a line that had formed near the Dineil’s tent to get my own. The wait was about thirty minutes before I finally reached the front of the line. An hour later I was finished collecting everything and made off to find a suitable spot.
The valley was nestled between two of the highest mountains in the Kalmar range: Mt. Despars and Mt. Sanuir. Naturally it was pretty large in length wise, but only fairly average when dealing with length. A small stream made its course through the valley, running nearly through the smack-dab of the valley. The valley had been inhabited some centuries ago, but it had been abandoned in the last few.
I finally found a spot, a little notch against the rising mountains. It was pretty close to a drop-off cliff, and was fairly close to the beginning of the stream- a few minutes walk. I managed to set the tent up with little difficulty, snapping the wooden rods in place in quick fashion. Then I deposited my bag into the tent and sat down outside in the bright sun.
I pulled out a thin manuscript from my belt. The pages were old and wrinkled, not mention well on their way in fading, but nevertheless it was a book. It was a gift from my grandfather. He had raised me since the death of both of my parents from the red death some thirteen years prior. It was his goal of teaching me to read before he died, and he had been barley able to accomplish it. The old man had died himself just after my ninth birthday. The book, titled War and Religion, was somewhat boring, but it was at least something to read at all.
“You can read?” A voice spoke out of nowhere, sounding surprised and startling me out of the thoughts. The large man from earlier was back, towering over me.
“Yeah. My grandfather taught shortly before he died.”
“Interesting. Very interesting. You could come in great use to the Dineil. You must remind me to speak with him after all this over.”
“I would be appreciative if you would, good sir.”
“It wouldn’t be a problem. Good day.” The man turned around as if to walk away. But he stopped before he could get very far. “Oh! I almost forgot about why I came here in the first place!” He fished around in a pocket be protruding a thin piece of parchment. “Here! I thought that I would have to read it you, but I guess not. Enjoy.” He said, tossing the paper and walking off.
The paper was crinkled and old, nearly as yellow as the book. In large letters was a message written across the paper in black ink. ‘Go to the Dineil’s tent. Bring this letter. And supplies.” I stood up hesitantly, staring at the paper. With a sigh, I reached into the tent and grabbed my bag and headed off to the Dineil’s tent.
The Dineil lay splayed out across a small couch. The “tent” that he was stationed in was too large to be one, and yet for the lack of a better word, it was a “tent”. A large table was placed in one corner with the couch cattycornered in another. Ten or thirteen other men stood around him, an open ear ready for listening.
“About time. All the others have already been here.” He grunted, sitting up and indicating to the other men. “Anyways, welcome. I would offer you fruit and drink, but alas for you all have been selected for a very important mission. The reason that we have stopped is not because we are ahead of the schedule, but rather we are ahead of our resources. Unfortunately, the three scouts that we have sent out have not returned. And without directions, we cannot progress any further. So this where you all come in. Your mission is to find these scouts and, if possible, find a way through these mountains. Do this and you will be rewarded!”
The man politely pushed the cup towards me, offering the hot beverage. “Drink.” He said slowly. He was old, with wrinkled skin and a pair of spectacles resting on his brow. A few strands of white hair receded from his crown, and he wore loose, rumpled robes.
“…..No thank you. I’m already late and must be going.” I replied politely, pushing the chipped cup away.
“I said drink.” The man shoved the cup back, sloshing a little out of the side. Weakly, I accepted the drink and slowly pour the steaming liquid down. “Tell me boy, how did you get all the way out here?”
I blushed. “Errh…. I was supposed to be scouting for the army, but I got lost a couple days ago.” I pushed the cup back to the old man.
The man smiled before taking the cup. “How long? You looked pretty bad when I found you out in the snow.”
“…..A week.” I said before taking the cup back, full once more. The tea wasn’t that bad after you got a taste of it. “I met some of the villagers at the summit who pointed me back down the mountain, but I fell climbing down and got lost. Then you found me.”
“What are doing up? Traveling?”
“No. I’m with the army.” I said, bearing a smile for the first time.
“Army?” He questioned, looking puzzled.
“Uhhh yeah. You know, the First Davian Regiment?”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you join the army?”
“Why else? They pay out of their butts.”
“But why did you join the army?”
“…The benefits, like I just said.” I said, giving the old man a crazy look.
“No. I didn’t ask you for what you joined for. I asked you why you joined.” I was quiet for a second as what the man said sunk in.
“…..I don’t know. Serve with pride?”
The man laughed. “Son, there is no “serving with pride.” That’s just a lie they made up to defend their warmongering.”
“That’s a lie. We’re here to aid an ally, to help a friend.”
“Help a friend.” The old man laughed again. “I hope that they’re really paying out of their butts if they managed to get you to believe that piece of crap.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Come on kid, think about it. The republic is growing, right? And where does everyone go? There aren’t even close to enough jobs in the country, much less enough for half of the population. And what percentage of the population do you think is the most unemployed? The poor of course. And so what do they do with the poor? Shove them in the army to take more land. So the population grows from the extra land and the result is a vicious cycle.”
“So what do I do? Just get up and walk off without completing my tour?”
“If you wish.” The old man said, getting up out of the chair and moving over and lighting a fire in the wood stove. “But you’ll get out of the army one way for sure.”
“How?”
“By getting yourself killed of course. Just run if front of a spear and you won’t have any problems getting discharged.
”Stop joking. I’m serious here!” I yelled. The man was making sense, and now the fool was laughing!
“Kid……Who do you believe in?”
“What?” I asked, still steaming.
“Trust me. It’ll all make sense in the end. See, you just went from a “honorable server” to a deserter. Let’s see if we can’t screw you up a little more.” He said smiling. “So who do you worship?”
“……..The One of course, who else?”
“Well, many else. There’s people out there who worship blades, those who worship pieces of rocks, and those who worship their ancestors. But in the end, everyone worships the same way.”
“So! What does that have anything to do with me?!” I stormed. The man was making no sense.
“What do you know about the One Faith?” He asked, suddenly gaining a note of seriousness.
“That people were cast out of heaven for their greediness! Their lust, hunger, and selfishness! That people are basically evil! That we’re all here for nothing.”
“Who taught you that?”
“My grandfather!” I snarled, getting angrier with each passing minute. The man wasn’t making any sense; jumping from topic to topic with little discretion.
“Was your grandfather a convert or was he born into the faith?”
“I don’t know! Why?”
“Cause if he was a convert, then he taught you wrong.”
“How do you know?! You’re probably just some animist!”
“No son. There is only one god in this world.”
“God?” I repeated, sounding the foreign word off my tongue.
“Yes. God. The One. The creator and destroyer of this world.”
My head spun. Destroyer?
The man sighed. “A thousand years ago a man was born. He possessed a spark of the divine, only a spark you see. God talked to the man and told him to spread the word of his being, and those conversations resulted in the Church of the One.”
“I know that! Everyone knows that!”
“Yes, everyone does know that. But you see, a thousand years ago is a long time. The message, while pure in the beginning, has long been lost from it’s original stance.”
“What are you talking about?”
The man dipped the cup into a large barrel of water and drew a cupful of it out. “Here.” He said, passing the cup to me.
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Look in it, of course.” He scoffed. I did as he said, peering into the crystal clear water. My reflection naturally gazed back up at me.
“……..Am I supposed to be seeing something?” I asked, more annoyed than angry now.
“Your reflection of course. You’ve heard that man was created in the image of the One, right?” The man said, laughing once more.
Kentharu
Zebra Commander
From the Gorinese Empire
To Croyodon
The Lord Kaiser shall sign a NAP under the condition that you allow missionaries from Gorin into your lands. Trade on the other hand is most welcome, uncondition of course. The Anthi river is already there so no trade roads need to be set up however small ports along the river would do well to boost the effect ad efficiency.
To Croyodon
The Lord Kaiser shall sign a NAP under the condition that you allow missionaries from Gorin into your lands. Trade on the other hand is most welcome, uncondition of course. The Anthi river is already there so no trade roads need to be set up however small ports along the river would do well to boost the effect ad efficiency.
Kentharu
Zebra Commander
From the Gorinese Empire
To Croyodon
Splendid, the Lord Kaiser is most please with this. Perhaps you woudl also like to sign some sort of alliance?
To Croyodon
Splendid, the Lord Kaiser is most please with this. Perhaps you woudl also like to sign some sort of alliance?
Kentharu
Zebra Commander
From the Gorinese Empire
To Croyodon
Splendid indeed. Shall we call it Croy Alliance (after the river)?
ooc umm Animism (36 000), (10 000)<< this is Croyodon's stats and for religion and what is the 10 000 for? i would assume it would be Masra but i want to be sure
To Croyodon
Splendid indeed. Shall we call it Croy Alliance (after the river)?
ooc umm Animism (36 000), (10 000)<< this is Croyodon's stats and for religion and what is the 10 000 for? i would assume it would be Masra but i want to be sure
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Great stories, Darkening's especially.
@Jalapeno's map: They are coming.... *cues Isengard music* Da na na....bum bum bum!!
Kings and Commanders
"Perversions, irregularities, and inconsistencies in the Church...these mistakes have bred themselves into the other religions of Tellus. Not to say that a wisp of the Maxims does not exist in these faiths, but they are wrong nonethless. Never forget the object of Veritas, and the Chosen: To spread, to enlighten, to glorify."
-Otanian Kentalias, The Third Uniarch, 496 P.D.
"We have been enlightened by the fall of Eldrania. In his wisdom Strategius put an end to the demons that would not see men as Men. Striking similarities there are, though, between the spiteful, hate-filled Crusades of genocide that the Eldranians undertook, and the glorious, well-intended Crusades of Veritas. Let us not in our Pride become the next Eldrania, and let not the Uniarcate become the next High Priesthood."
-Ialanios Novinaria, The Twenty-First Uniarch, 923 P.D.
Part Two:
Kehexou was slowly becoming something interesting. Over time, the islands had the distinction of the first travel destination for wealthy vacationers in recorded history. But let's not overstate things, this is the Bronze Age after all. But in the colder seasons (which still weren't that cold) of Veritas, which were always accompanied by massive rainstorms, many rich Veritasans came to Kehexou. There were sunny beaches, and a nearly subtropical climate. Perhaps a thousand went each year.
Relations were warm on the surface, just like the sun. The Veritasan Embassy held a key location in Takrau, and the banners of Deras Mayanas, along with his personal crest of the Shield on White fluttered from the ramparts of every stronghold on the island.
People looked north warily. It was a look that a Taiwanese man in the year 2006 A.D. in another world would know well, or a British citizen in 1800. Looking across a stormy sea towards an unfriendly empire.
Deras, to his credit, was a capable leader. There were no famines, and no angry god showed his displeasure by throwing flaming ramids or sinking the island into the ocean to be speculated about only by errant philosophers and conspiracy theorists. The best thing to be said about Deras' reign was that things stayed constant, organized, and unchanged.
Unfortunately, this wasn't good enough for as many Kehex as it had been in the past. It really was beyond the control of Mayanas, if the greater geopolitical situation was taken into account. Kehexou enjoyed its freedom from Khemri, and so it aligned itself slightly with Veritas. But Mayanas didn't throw himself into the arms of the Veritasans either...he wanted to keep his independent stance, and stay aloof from the Greater Powers, as many called them.
He walked a diplomatic tightrope, with plenty of pitfalls for anyone less than a master diplomat. For reference, there were probably less than 10 master diplomats around 1200 P.D. in Tellus. No, Deras wasn't one of them. He chose a strategy of equal antagonization, cooling off relations with both Veritas and Khemri. Which had none with Kehexou anyway, so it just miffed the Assemblum.
Things might have still stayed unchanged, but ironically it was the Veritasan travellers that started it all. They were wealthy, content, and most importantly had a considerable say in their government. To the average Kehex, who were considerably less wealthy, less content, and had no say at all in their government, the customs of these Easterners looked very good indeed...
---
Roses were blooming outside, and inside too. The open air room was filled with plants, and a heavy oaken table covered in maps and dispatches. Two men sat across the table. One wore a deep green cloak, and grey clothes. The other had a purple cloak, and was dressed in bronze chainmail.
"I have sympathy with your plight, Lord Gayanax. Your father was killed under very dubious circumstances indeed, but I can assure you that Veritas had no interest in doing such a thing."
"Perhaps you misunderstand me, Lord Stratikrator. I had never suspected, nor even considered Veritas to be the source of my father's assassination. Khemri perhaps, or a Mayanas faction."
"There I will not comment. In case you haven't heard, we have forged peace with our western neighbors. To quote our newest Elder Dracus Teranias, 'It will be a peace to last an epoch.' Let's hope so."
Terias Gayanax smiled, wryly. "And when does the next epoch come?"
"Not for a long time. I plan to be a peaceful Stratikrator, for Veritas has seen enough war."
"Well, I definitely didn't come here to ask you to invade Khemri. One knows you've tried it enough."
They chuckled for a while, but then Delagani frowned.
"You know, the Assemblum doesn't hold a latis-swinging contest, and then pick the strongest to be Stratikrator. I have a brain as well, Terias. You have come to ask my support in your bid to retake the island of Kehexou, haven't you?"
Gayanax slumped in his chair. "How did you know?"
"I have spies, not to mention your wife...just kidding!" The Stratikrator laughed at the blushing young man.
"Well, I suppose you are the Stratikrator for a reason."
"My answer is no, Terias."
"What?"
"I am duty bound to obey the orders of the Assemblum, and occasionally act on my personal initiative if it serves the interests of Veritas. This is not something the Assemblum will approve, in a time when the Army is rebuilding and restructuring."
"Yes...this might be a fool's task anyway."
"I will tell you two things, however, as a friend. The first is that many Kehex are beginning to speak out against the Shield on White. They are influenced by Veritasan republican ways, though such ways will not fit perfectly with Kehexou. It would take a strong, intelligent, charismatic young leader ironically similar to yourself to galvanize them into action."
"And the other?"
"There is a Veritasan Bireme leaving port tonight with several officials bound for the Embassy in Takrau. In fact, there is a spot reserved for a certain Parala Lanias, an influential Kehexan trader returning to his homeland. That's you, by the way."
Gayanax stood, shocked.
"I can also tell you, as a friend, that your family has already been informed of your departure, and that several hundred Ianas* of Parala's "profits" in gold are already on the boat, for Parala's personal use. The boat leaves in three hours, I suggest you get going."
"Delagani...I don't know whether to thank you or curse you."
The tanned, elderly soldier grinned.
"All in the name of duty, my friend. All in the name of duty."
---
Iana- A larger unit of Veritasan currency, One Iana is a golden coin worth around 200 USD.
@Jalapeno's map: They are coming.... *cues Isengard music* Da na na....bum bum bum!!
Kings and Commanders
"Perversions, irregularities, and inconsistencies in the Church...these mistakes have bred themselves into the other religions of Tellus. Not to say that a wisp of the Maxims does not exist in these faiths, but they are wrong nonethless. Never forget the object of Veritas, and the Chosen: To spread, to enlighten, to glorify."
-Otanian Kentalias, The Third Uniarch, 496 P.D.
"We have been enlightened by the fall of Eldrania. In his wisdom Strategius put an end to the demons that would not see men as Men. Striking similarities there are, though, between the spiteful, hate-filled Crusades of genocide that the Eldranians undertook, and the glorious, well-intended Crusades of Veritas. Let us not in our Pride become the next Eldrania, and let not the Uniarcate become the next High Priesthood."
-Ialanios Novinaria, The Twenty-First Uniarch, 923 P.D.
Part Two:
Kehexou was slowly becoming something interesting. Over time, the islands had the distinction of the first travel destination for wealthy vacationers in recorded history. But let's not overstate things, this is the Bronze Age after all. But in the colder seasons (which still weren't that cold) of Veritas, which were always accompanied by massive rainstorms, many rich Veritasans came to Kehexou. There were sunny beaches, and a nearly subtropical climate. Perhaps a thousand went each year.
Relations were warm on the surface, just like the sun. The Veritasan Embassy held a key location in Takrau, and the banners of Deras Mayanas, along with his personal crest of the Shield on White fluttered from the ramparts of every stronghold on the island.
People looked north warily. It was a look that a Taiwanese man in the year 2006 A.D. in another world would know well, or a British citizen in 1800. Looking across a stormy sea towards an unfriendly empire.
Deras, to his credit, was a capable leader. There were no famines, and no angry god showed his displeasure by throwing flaming ramids or sinking the island into the ocean to be speculated about only by errant philosophers and conspiracy theorists.
The best thing to be said about Deras' reign was that things stayed constant, organized, and unchanged.Unfortunately, this wasn't good enough for as many Kehex as it had been in the past. It really was beyond the control of Mayanas, if the greater geopolitical situation was taken into account. Kehexou enjoyed its freedom from Khemri, and so it aligned itself slightly with Veritas. But Mayanas didn't throw himself into the arms of the Veritasans either...he wanted to keep his independent stance, and stay aloof from the Greater Powers, as many called them.
He walked a diplomatic tightrope, with plenty of pitfalls for anyone less than a master diplomat. For reference, there were probably less than 10 master diplomats around 1200 P.D. in Tellus. No, Deras wasn't one of them. He chose a strategy of equal antagonization, cooling off relations with both Veritas and Khemri. Which had none with Kehexou anyway, so it just miffed the Assemblum.
Things might have still stayed unchanged, but ironically it was the Veritasan travellers that started it all. They were wealthy, content, and most importantly had a considerable say in their government. To the average Kehex, who were considerably less wealthy, less content, and had no say at all in their government, the customs of these Easterners looked very good indeed...
---
Roses were blooming outside, and inside too. The open air room was filled with plants, and a heavy oaken table covered in maps and dispatches. Two men sat across the table. One wore a deep green cloak, and grey clothes. The other had a purple cloak, and was dressed in bronze chainmail.
"I have sympathy with your plight, Lord Gayanax. Your father was killed under very dubious circumstances indeed, but I can assure you that Veritas had no interest in doing such a thing."
"Perhaps you misunderstand me, Lord Stratikrator. I had never suspected, nor even considered Veritas to be the source of my father's assassination. Khemri perhaps, or a Mayanas faction."
"There I will not comment. In case you haven't heard, we have forged peace with our western neighbors. To quote our newest Elder Dracus Teranias, 'It will be a peace to last an epoch.' Let's hope so."
Terias Gayanax smiled, wryly. "And when does the next epoch come?"
"Not for a long time. I plan to be a peaceful Stratikrator, for Veritas has seen enough war."
"Well, I definitely didn't come here to ask you to invade Khemri. One knows you've tried it enough."
They chuckled for a while, but then Delagani frowned.
"You know, the Assemblum doesn't hold a latis-swinging contest, and then pick the strongest to be Stratikrator. I have a brain as well, Terias. You have come to ask my support in your bid to retake the island of Kehexou, haven't you?"
Gayanax slumped in his chair. "How did you know?"
"I have spies, not to mention your wife...just kidding!" The Stratikrator laughed at the blushing young man.
"Well, I suppose you are the Stratikrator for a reason."
"My answer is no, Terias."
"What?"
"I am duty bound to obey the orders of the Assemblum, and occasionally act on my personal initiative if it serves the interests of Veritas. This is not something the Assemblum will approve, in a time when the Army is rebuilding and restructuring."
"Yes...this might be a fool's task anyway."
"I will tell you two things, however, as a friend. The first is that many Kehex are beginning to speak out against the Shield on White. They are influenced by Veritasan republican ways, though such ways will not fit perfectly with Kehexou. It would take a strong, intelligent, charismatic young leader ironically similar to yourself to galvanize them into action."
"And the other?"
"There is a Veritasan Bireme leaving port tonight with several officials bound for the Embassy in Takrau. In fact, there is a spot reserved for a certain Parala Lanias, an influential Kehexan trader returning to his homeland. That's you, by the way."
Gayanax stood, shocked.
"I can also tell you, as a friend, that your family has already been informed of your departure, and that several hundred Ianas* of Parala's "profits" in gold are already on the boat, for Parala's personal use. The boat leaves in three hours, I suggest you get going."
"Delagani...I don't know whether to thank you or curse you."
The tanned, elderly soldier grinned.
"All in the name of duty, my friend. All in the name of duty."
---
Iana- A larger unit of Veritasan currency, One Iana is a golden coin worth around 200 USD.
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