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One Who Masters Magic (End of First Draft)


Travis

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Gimpy, once again, I thank you for your detailed critique and the effort you put into it. I will definitely begin working on bits and pieces of the corrections as I can, just as I did your last mega post.

 

 

 

For everyone else, I continue forward. As promised, blood and doom and the beginning of the War of Prophets and Wizards. I haven't killed this many people in a chapter since the big Battle of Fazei Crossing. We also get some nice prophecy. There is a lot that is explained there, and some more makes sense. I am not sure if I put too much about the prophets warning about going after Syler, but I do think I did have a warning from the priests (who serve as interpreters for a lot of Prophecy). If I didn't, then I will clarify that more in the rewrite. I don't know what it is about prophecy, but I just LOVE writing about all the doom and gloom and warnings and curses. There is another prophecy that will be appearing shortly that is particularly cool and foreshadows a lot of what is going to come up. I spent an hour writing that alone, and it is only about a hundred words or so.

 

Anyway, onto the second part of the chapter. Note: I finally remembered I can manually indent with the [ list ] tag, so I have done so for the letter portion. All letters and complete prophecies (as well as the quotes at the start of the chapters) are indented or centered (or both) in the master document, but I am limited in what I can do here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * * * *

 

Tower of Ester

Terula City,

Kingdom of Terula

 

Pondj, surrounded by dozens of his Royal Guard and followed by hundreds of soldiers from a fresh battalion being prepared to march north to war, strode toward the great Tower of Ester where the Order of Prophets dwelled. While the Wizard's College was famed for its vast size, the prophets looked down upon the city from the tallest structure in all of the city. The structure, constructed entirely out of black basalt and trimmed in shining steel that ran throughout the structure like veins of silvery blood. At its peak, some five hundred feet up, a massive torch provided a recognizable landmark for the city dwellers to know where they were at night. While the city was officially centered around the Royal Palace, unofficially, its citizens marked status and location based on distance from the great tower.

 

The tower was surrounded by the Wall of Silence, a wall forty feet tall and made of gleaming, white granite. The contrast between the wall and the black tower it guarded was striking, intentionally so. Symbolically, the priests claimed that the Wall of Silence was there to serve as a protection from the wrath of the Tetrarchy when the prophets saw visions of horror and dread. The wall was there, they said, to remind them all of Featwel's loving embrace encompassing all. The bright whiteness of the wall had a practical purpose, too. It was difficult for anyone to climb over its heights even in the shadows without being noticed. The Prophet's Guard was on constant vigil along that wall to watch and monitor the prophets in order to keep their potentially dangerous prophecies under control.

 

The Captain of the Royal Guard stopped at the gate to the tower and growled out to its guards. "By order of King Rael, Lord and Master of Terula, I hereby command you to open your gates and present your charges for interrogation."

 

The sergeant at the gate looked first at Pondj, then at the small army at his back, and replied calmly, "My I inquire as to why you have arrived here with such numbers?"

"The king has demanded that all prophets be rounded up and presented before him for interrogation."

 

"Does he now?" the sergeant replied. "Only a joint command of the High Priests can grant such a thing. King Rael knows this." Technically, the Prophet's Guard was under the express control of the priests of the Way and were not the King's to command. They were not the only Wayic forces that the priests controlled, but the priests jealously defended every one of them and would condemn anyone who defied them.

Pondj growled deep in the back of his throat before slamming his gauntleted fist against the steel gate. "Damnit fool, the prophets have been conspiring to kill the princess! Let us through or we will come through by force."

 

The sergeant only raised an eyebrow at this threat. "And risk the fury of High Priest Ingrald and the others? Not even the king would do that, not with war in such need of spiritual support and direction."

"The protection of the royal family falls under my jurisdiction, not the priests'. Whatever the threat, it is our right to address it. It doesn't matter where the threat is from or who holds their allegiance. Now, stand aside!"

 

The sergeant was unmoved and the approach of his lieutenant seemed to only bolster his defiance. "The eternal Way is above any temporary king of mortals. Have the king speak to the High Prophets. These gates will open only with the Tetrarchy's Signet."

 

"What is going here?" the lieutenant demanded when he arrived at the gate.

 

"Lieutenant Falinn," the sergeant said hastily, "Captain Pondj demands we violate our sacred oaths."

 

Falinn's eyes narrowed as he looked through the bars of the gate at the assembled host. "How would he have us do that?"

 

Pondj responded in a barely controlled voice. "I come with orders straight from the king to have the prophets in chains before his throne for interrogation."

 

"And why would he desire that?" the lieutenant asked.

 

"The prophets have conspired to assassinate Princess Raella," snarled Pondj. "They must all answer for that crime."

 

"All of them?" Falinn said with a touch of incredulity in his voice. "I find it most unlikely that they are all going to be involved."

 

"Master Prophet Xalent was specifically named," replied Pondj. "If he is involved, then who is to say that they all aren't? The king will determine who is guilty or innocent."

 

The lieutenant pondered this situation. He knew that the auspices of the prophets fell under Wayic Law and the High Priests. He also knew that the king had great power, especially now with his Angvardi wife here and the potential of her bringing the Angvardi clergy in on her side. This could turn into a nightmare, one that his guard could not handle. There were just twelve hundred men in the Prophet's Guard, and they were divided into three shifts. They were equipped to deal with fifty or so prophets trying to escape, not an entire army. Right or not, within the Law or not, he had no choice.

 

With a deft nod, he gestured for the gate to be raised. The sergeant protested, but was cut short by his superior. "We are not going to be defying the king himself, not if the princess' life was put in danger. There is no victory to opposing him in this matter for we cannot stand against his forces."

 

As the heavy bars were being lifted, the Royal Guard accompanied by army regulars began to flow in before the Prophet's Guard could change their mind. "Wise choice, guardsman," said Pondj with a small smile of victory touching his lips as he walked past the stubborn sergeant. "Order your men off the wall and outside."

 

"You will have their complete supp—" Falinn protested.

 

"I do not care about your support," Pondj interrupted. "I only care about your obedience. Every man off the wall and outside in the city."

 

Falinn had no choice but to obey and his own men began to file past the column of soldiers streaming into the protected area around the Tower. Once outside, they found themselves under close watch by hundreds of soldiers. The officers were the last to leave once all of the four hundred men had left.

 

Before he entered the Tower, Pondj turned and looked directly at the sergeant who had dared challenge him. "What is your name, sergeant?"

 

The sergeant held his head high with defiance when he responded. "I am Fleser Tregisle."

 

The captain's smile did not waver, "I shall remember that name when I report back to the king." With those words spoken, he shoved the doors open and marched boldly inside with his men behind him.

 

* * * * *

 

Royal Palace

Terula City,

Kingdom of Terula

 

With Raella now safely within her chambers and resting, Rael and Celienna were in the Throne Room with numerous advisors and plenty of wizards at their side. The subject at hand was none other than the recent attempt on their daughter's life. Neither were in particularly good moods and had lashed out at those around them more than once, so when Pezgibbons entered the room with a sealed letter in hand, he was right to be fearful.

 

"We cannot move against Lord Oblin without more proof!" Sage Va insisted. "The evidence you possess is not sufficient to condemn him."

 

Rael dismissed his oldest advisor with an upraised hand, "Enough, old man. We will have all the proof we need when the Xalent and his prophets are dragged into the dungeons for interrogation. This is my daughter that we are talking about. I don't care about anything but his head."

 

"Angvardi would have no less," Empress Celienna added. "This was an attack against our heir as well and the perpetrators must pay in blood."

 

"Oblin was last seen leaving the city likely returning to Hopenstad. His household guard there will not simply stand by as their lord is taken," cautioned General Whaetis.

 

"He has what, two thousand men at most?" Rael said. "That is hardly a threat, even if a significant portion of them betray their king for a traitor."

 

"With our forces focused in the southwest and winter nearly upon us, it may take time before we can act," said Whaetis. "We can destroy him, make no mistake, but we need to wait until we can send at least two battalions and that might have to wait until spring."

 

"Then Angvard will send men," Celienna offered. "I can have two thousand men ready to march on Hopenstad's keep in three weeks."

 

"An Angvardi army, marching on a Terulan city?" Va cried out in incredulity. "Such a thing would cause an uproar and quite possibly an all out civil war!"

 

"No, love," Rael said. "I would gladly accept your offer but for the fact that the sage is correct. We cannot afford any disruption to Unity, not when we are preparing to march on the Krue."

 

When he finally noticed his Master of Letters, Rael sighed and said, "I hope you do not bear ill news, Master Pezgibbons. Once a day is more than enough for my tastes."

 

"I bring news from the Tower of Ester, my king," the frightened man said as he held the letter out in a shaking hand.

 

The king impatiently snatched it while saying, "Good, I hope that Captain Pondj had no trouble with a crowd of cooped up old men who have never fought for anything in their lives."

 

"I cannot say, my king," replied Pezgibbon. "But I can say that this letter was on my desk when I returned after seeing to the notices for Lord Oblin's arrest. According to my aides, it arrived shortly after we departed for the Wizard's College."

 

The king's face grew dark at that news and he quickly opened the letter. For a minute, nobody spoke, not even his wife, as they waited for him to read the letter and decide what should be shared. As he read on, his forehead and cheeks grew red with mounting rage.

 

When he finished, realization dawned over his expression and he rose suddenly. "Send word to Captain Pondj not to enter the Tower!" he exclaimed. "Use your fastest horse, your best rider. Take twenty men to clear the streets, do whatever it takes!" When everyone stared at him in shock, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "NOW!"

 

Men stumbled over themselves to carry out their king's will, but Celienna remained calm. She reached over and plucked the letter from her husband's grasp to read it for herself.

 

 

  • When the hour of the One arrives, the hourglass shall start anew.
    The time of the prophets shall pass onward, their days fulfilled.
    The King of the South shall strike out his hand against the prophets.
    On the day appointed, his wrath shall be unleashed against them.
     
    In his wrath, the King of the South shall violate sacred laws.
    He shall order undone that which he has no authority to undo.
    The gods jealously guard those with whom they share their visions,
    And punish severely those who think themselves higher than they.
    Blood will flow, a city shall be left blind and without bearing.
    Bitterly shall he weep, greatly shall he suffer, but alone shall he be.
     
    All these things shall come to pass
    Should the Damned seek what was not his,
    Should the One recover that which was lost,
    Should the Traitor's plots be undiscovered,
    Should the Guide be led astray,
    Should the Prophet be intercepted,
    Should the Betrothed face the fires.
     
    The Tower will fall, its use complete.
    Pain and death, its crumbling will cause.
    Of the righteous, not one shall fall.
    Of the violators, none shall stand.
     
    You brought this upon yourself, King Rael. This was never thought to be a certain branch, but it was made to be by your own actions. All the signs are clear, you are the Damned. You should have heeded our warnings and never sent the Shalktra against the One. Doing so has set loose a chain of events that will be your downfall and the destruction of your mighty kingdom. Prepare yourself, for your trials are far from over.
     
    • —Master Prophet Shruden Xalent

As the letter slipped from her hands, the entire palace shook as from thunder. Though they were well protected deep within the palace, they could still feel the explosion that resulted from the powerful magics that had been long stored within the great Tower of Ester. The steel veins that weaved their way through the basalt had been for more than mere decoration. Any trained eye who thought to look at such things would have been alarmed to note the spells the steel formed. When the time was right and the sanctity of the Tower itself had been violated, all it took was one man, a prophet, to summon forth even his weak connection magic to set it off.

 

The resulting explosion tore through the Tower in an instant, turning black stone into dust and crumbling walls that had stood for centuries. Ironically, the destruction was contained by the very thing that had kept watch over the Tower for all of those years. The Wall of Silence did its duty to protect the city one last time by stopping the debris and sparing the citizenry.

 

Though the city was spared, over a thousand of the King's men died in the destruction. Four hundred who had been within the Tower itself simply vanished into a cloud of dust and rubble never to be seen again. More than six hundred others who had been inside the wall. As they had been ordered beyond the wall, only one of the Prophet's Guard was killed. Lieutenant Falinn was struck in the head by a chunk of black basalt and died a day later in great agony.

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Great chapter! Very interesting turns of events going on...

 

Two quick things, both from 32a:

 

"What happened, Setpinius," demanded Rael in a voice

 

'Setpinius' should have a question mark after it, not a comma. And 'demanded' would still be lowercase.

 

It could have been set to her specific aurora,

 

Do you mean 'aura', not 'aurora'?

amipaint2.jpg

SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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A short chapter, but a long segment here (about 3400 words). This sort of sums up the immediate repercussions of Rael's attempt to subdue the prophets and both sets the stage for further development as well as explains some recent occurrences. I also introduce a minor character that will remain with us (Priest Ansee, one whom I mentioned earlier in the story) and bring in another conspirator against King Rael. Lots of description here and almost no real action, but I feel it was necessary. Next chapter goes back to Syler and up to the Krue. It will introduce some more Kruish lords and explain some of their politics.

 

Also, something I am seriously considering is going back and changing "Krue" to "Khrue." I fear that people are saying it too much like "crew" and that wasn't my intent. I always envisioned saying their name with a little more guttural sound at the start, something attained by the Arabic letter خ (Ḫāʾ). What are your feelings on that? I wouldn't go through and edit everything here, but I would be able to do so pretty easily on MS Word (just a quick find and replace for the entire document).

 

 

_____________________

 

 

Chapter 33

 

We lost two more yesterday, my king. It was almost as if they just disappeared off the face of Teladia. Whoever is targeting wizards is cunning, ruthless, and very powerful. They know our every move, counter our every action, and are dwindling our numbers in a time when so few are home in the College. If things continue, we will have to recall wizards from the battlefront.

 

— report from Wizard Tagastas to King Rael, three weeks after the Tower of Ester exploded

 

Royal Palace

Terula City

Kingdom of Terula

 

"It is all my fault," said Raella between tears. "This whole thing started because of me."

 

Shortly after the Tower of Ester had been destroyed, a new kind of war broke out, one unlike any in recent memory. Wizards, men who had once considered themselves near untouchable in combat, were being assassinated one by one. Some of the attacks were from obscure spells or charms, others were brazen attacks in the streets by unknown assailants wearing black hoods and masks over their faces. Sometimes, wizards survived the attacks, but more often than not, they didn't. Every day, at least one fell and sometimes it was two or three. A small number of mages had also been targeted. From all appearances, only those mages who had close ties with the wizards had been killed, but at this moment, nobody was sure exactly how the targets were selected.

 

There had been retaliation, of course. The wizards, with the support of surviving army units from within the city, combed the streets and countryside around the city for the source of their attackers. On occasion, they managed to track them back to a hideout and slaughter them, but not one had allowed themselves to be taken alive for interrogation. The wizards suspected that many of the men were ordinary and not gifted at all, but there had been a few conjurors among those slain. The thought of being killed by a lowly conjuror was terrifying to the proud wizards who had for centuries lorded over other magic wielders due to their power and abilities.

 

Strangely enough, the Coven of Witches had not been targeted. Though there were as many or more witches than their male wizard counterparts, the witches remained far more secluded and thus stayed out of the political affairs that seemed to have consumed the city. There were a few witches who elected to assume some of the more mundane duties that the wizards were no longer able to perform, but even they had not been targeted.

 

Word of the Tower's destruction and the prophet's end spread throughout the kingdom like wildfires on the Plains of Battle in summer. There were riots in the streets, though they rarely lasted long once the army and surviving city guards arrived. The Wayic priests expressed outrage at the king's flagrant disregard for protocol in forcing his way into the Tower without the permission of the High Priests. Their sermons condemned the unrighteous unbelievers who profaned the newly sacred ground where the Tower's rubble now stood, though they stopped short of accusing the king himself. The High Priests had summoned all of the Prophet's Guard to redouble the security in various temples and refused to allow the king or the empress rites within the temple. Tension growing between the temples and the king was at an all time high and not even the preparations for a march north to fight the Krue were sufficient enough a distraction to keep the people from talking.

 

King Rael for his part made a half hearted attempt to reconcile with High Priest Ingrald, but gave up after it became clear that mere words were not sufficient to broker peace. He had spent much of his time within the Palace walls in solitude. Celienna or his daughter occasionally joined him, but they typically left his presence after an hour. Though it was not widely known, his inner circle of confidants spoke in hushed whispers that Rael spent his time pouring over old texts and what few prophecies survived the destruction of the Tower. What he was searching for was a mystery to even his wife.

 

Empress Celienna had spent the time trying to mediate between her husband and the nobles. She sent letters via the swiftest riders to Angvard demanding wizards to offset the losses suffered in Terula. She also hoped to curry the favor and intervention of the Angvardi High Priests and clergy to persuade the Terulan Wayic priests to reconcile. She found an unexpected ally in her sister-in-law, Ianara, who put aside past differences in an attempt to relieve the strain between the monarchy and the priests. Though her reception at the temples was cooler than usual, Ianara was at least admitted and allowed to speak before the High Priests.

 

Raella, for her part, had looked on in horror at the events quickly cascading into chaos all around her. Having lived in a time of general peace, she had never seen such violence or anger. All of the wars in her time had taken place far away and had been reported as easy, glorious victories for the armies of Unity. She had never seen blood splatters from where a wizard had been ripped apart by a hidden charm or been forced to travel around with no fewer than a dozen guards even within the Royal Palace itself. Seeing all the jumpy men constantly looking at every shadow as though they were expecting someone to emerge from it with knife in hand was terrifying to a young woman who used to go out into the streets with naught but her maidservant and a single guard as an escort. She had taken the burdens of what was going on upon her own shoulders and, despite her attempts to remain strong, the weight of it had finally broken her.

 

"No, my child," Ansee replied soothingly. He put his hand on the crown of her bowed head and prayed. As her personal priest, it was his duty to keep eye over her and tend to all of her spiritual needs. He had been serving the princess since she was old enough to talk and knew her better than just about anyone else. She trusted him with all of her secret fears, desires, and hopes and he in turn safeguarded that trust with his life. His vows as a priest of Mewela, the Former of All, meant more to him than anything and he would die to protect those who Mewela put under his charge.

 

He had a normal flock back in Angvard, but he had elected to journey with his charge for their winter trip. He had been with her on trips to Terula City or other locations in Terula while she spent her time with her father, but that was before he had risen to the position as a full priest and mentored a temple of his own. Though his primary duty was to Raella, he missed tending to the needs of those back home who looked up to him. When Raella had asked him to journey with her once more, he immediately went into prayer. After many sleepless nights, he felt a peace about leaving his flock and joining her. The temple had other priests, so he spent a few weeks guiding his supplicants to them so they could have their spiritual comfort even while he was away. They seemed grateful, but many had expressed how much they would miss him in the months he would be in the south.

 

"How is it not?" Raella asked after Ansee was finished with his prayer. "It was because of me that father sent the men to their deaths."

 

"You are not at fault because someone tried to kill you. Those men brought doom upon their own heads and the blood of the soldiers that died is on their hands, not yours."

 

Tears continued to flow as she remained bowed before her priest. "But if I hadn't been in the college, none of this would have happened."

 

Ansee shook his head, though he knew she couldn't see it. "No, they would have struck at you somewhere else. And if they couldn't get at you, they would have attacked your mother, or your father, or someone else they viewed as a threat. No matter what you did, they would have struck out against the rightful authority and what happened would have happened regardless. You cannot hold yourself responsible for the actions of others, otherwise you will forever be paralyzed by guilt that you should not bear. If you are ever to rule over the United Kingdoms, you must learn that."

 

Raella remained silent for a time as her sobs subsided. When they had faded away, she looked up into her priest's warm brown eyes with her own glassy blue ones. "Is this what it means to rule? Is this what my parents must deal with, what is in my future? Am I to constantly live in fear of death?

 

It pained Ansee to hear her ask such a question because he knew that she had done nothing to warrant the attempts on her life. Her only fault was being born to the two most powerful individuals that walked the face of Teladia. Men would always want her power and indeed, there had been plots against her life before. By order of one or both of her parents, she had never been told of those. He had only heard of them when High Priest Rasaund had warned him to keep his eye out back in Angvard two years ago.

 

"From what I understand, my child, the burden of rule comes at a high cost," the priest said at last. "There are those who are evil and covet that which they are not entitled to. Some of those men have tried to kill you to further their own ends just as they are attacking the wizards and causing an uproar in the streets. It is your duty to defend that which the gods have seen fit to bestow upon you. You must stand against those who wish to harm you and fight to protect both your life and your throne."

 

"But why?" Her entire face pleaded for an answer that she could use to explain what was happening, but Ansee knew he didn't have an answer that would satisfy her.

 

"You are a good person, Raella of Angvard. You may not be wizened in the nature of evil and harsh deeds, but your heart is pure and innocent. You are kind, generous, and a blessing to those around you. I hope that one day, you will rule the Unified Kingdoms with fairness and justice that will usher in a new era of peace.

 

"There are always those who will oppose that. Evil does not like justice and will do all it can to end hope. I fear that you must learn to adapt to being hunted and threatened. This is a call for you to step out of innocence and into the cold, harsh world. Your parents have sheltered you as long as they could, but it was never to be forever."

 

Raella's eyebrows were bunched together and her eyes drooped. "I know," she whispered softly. "I have had a good life, a mostly carefree one. I attended lessons to learn the history of battles and cultures, but I never had to worry about the harshness of life. I knew it was there because I read of it, but I never saw it for myself. Mother tried to show it to me by making me sit with her in court, but I didn't want to see."

 

"Nobody wants to see the ugliness that is this cruel world, but leaders must see the truth of things or they will only bring harm to their people. They must see through the temporal threats just as the priests must see the spiritual ones. Both must work together to navigate those dangers and keep the kingdom safe."

 

"If that is true, why can't Father go to the temple for his blessings? How is he to receive spiritual guidance if the High Priests won't accept him?"

 

That part in particular had troubled her and it was among the most difficult to answer. Ansee had to be careful in how he worded things or it might make things worse. "The king and the High Priests here have had a disagreement, a squabble. Your father felt justified in acting to protect your life, but the priests feel that their own divine authority has been challenged wrongly. I cannot say who is truly at fault, but both feel their authority has been usurped and are jealously holding onto what they believe is rightfully theirs. Nobody is perfect, not even the High Priests of the Way."

 

Raella looked down as more sadness overtook her delicate face. "Can't someone talk to them? Surely the priests understand that causing strife within the city will only harm Unity and the Way. A weak kingdom is no good to anyone."

 

Ansee's head shook slowly as he replied, "Though I agree with you, it isn't that easy, child. Both have their pride, but more than that, they must consider what it would do to their authority of they were to back down. The king fears that if assassins were able to retreat to the protection of the Way, it would encourage more to act and worse, allow them to escape punishment. The priests fear that if the crown is able to interfere and violate their own sanctuaries and domain, he will only continue to do so until they have no more authority over how worship is conducted. It is a difficult situation, one that will only be worked out in time as long as both can keep cool heads. Right now, neither possess the calm needed to negotiate."

 

"It is foolishness," she declared. "Whatever differences there are should be dealt with directly through conversation, not by ignoring each other. Father has been secluded in his study for weeks now and rarely comes out. When he does, he doesn't want to talk about what is going on. I have tried to get him to do something, to address his people, but he refuses. Mother is trying to help, but she is not the king and this is not Angvard. Her authority is limited south of the River. The High Priests are stuck in their temples stirring up anger against Father and not even trying to make peace. Are they truly so prideful that they cannot take the first step toward reconciliation?"

 

Ansee sighed. "As I have said more times than either of us could count, no mortal is perfect. The High Priests and those in the temples are mortals just like us and therefore, have their flaws. Both sides have legitimate concerns, but both have faults. There is little that can be done at this point but to wait and pray to the Tetrarchy that they give us mercy."

 

The princess seemed to take that in stride, but the priest knew that her heart was not comforted. She wanted so desperately to help, to bring back the peace she had known. It broke his heart to see her like this. It was a harsh world and the sooner she realized that, the stronger she would be.

 

Before she turned away to retire for the evening, he saw a brief look of defiance and determination on her face. If he hadn't of known her as well as he did, he might have missed it. That flash sent chills down his back for some reason. The princess had an idea, and considering their discussion, it was likely going to be something that was fraught with risk. He would do his best to help, of course, but he feared that his own knowledge of things was limited by his time protected in various temples. Nonetheless, he would stand by her, guide her, and protect her with his life no matter what happened.

 

* * * * *

 

Lord Kazzel's Estate

Terula City,

Kingdom of Terula

 

"Look at that, more reports of riots and disorder in the streets," Amberis Rael said as he sat back and enjoyed a cup of chilled ale at a truly expansive table. Though there was enough food on the polished wooden table to feed a score of men, there were only two individuals enjoying its diverse selection at this moment.

 

"It is such a shame, my lord, truly a shame," his host replied, though there was no remorse in the man's voice. Milteen Kazzel was a thin man in his early sixties who was for the most part confined to a chair due to both his age and wounds received in battle against the Angvardi long ago. His pale skin managed to contrast even with his stringy grey hair and the veins that ran along his exposed arms and hands. The lord of the southwestern city of Kalve would win no beauty contests, but Amberis didn't care about appearances when looking for allies. All he cared about was a zealous sense of loyalty to the concept of a dominant Terula and a willingness to get their hands dirty if necessary.

 

Kazzel fit both of those categories quite well. As an officer in the Terulan Army, he had been particularly ruthless when battling the invading Angvardi hordes. Though it had never been proven, rumors occasionally surfaced that fingered him in a series of merciless massacres of Angvardi border towns during a campaign in which no survivors, buildings, or planted fields were left in their wake. He had professed his loyalty to the king and swore to abide by the new peace with Angvard when it had been required of him, but Amberis had been quick to spot the resentment in his voice whenever the subject arose.

 

Recruiting him had not been difficult. Kazzel knew him to be a man of his word and when the king's cousin had quietly hinted that he was interested in remaking the political situation in favor of a dominant Terula and a crushed, subjugated Angvard, he had quickly voiced his support. While not the most powerful or influential lord in the kingdom, the fact that his lands lay directly west of the capital meant that it was close enough to serve as both a base of operations as well as a possible withdrawal point should things go bad. It also meant that the gateway to the West was open for Amberis should his plans fail and he need to escape the kingdom.

 

"Yes, it is such a tragedy that my dear cousin would make such a mistake as to strike out against the Way and the gods themselves," said Amberis. "If I had known that trying to kill his precious little mutt bitch of a daughter would have provoked such a violent response, I would have done so earlier." It wasn't that he personally hated Raella, it was just that he couldn't abide her heritage. There was no way he would ever allow someone whose veins were half full of inferior Angvardi blood to sit on the Terulan throne. It was bad enough that he debased the same Royal Chambers that his parents had conceived him in with that Angvardi bitch. It was sheer blasphemy for his cousin to have dared mingle his blood with lesser creatures and pollute his pure Terulan heritage with Celienna's. It was almost better for him to have sired a bastard of a lowly Terulan peasant than bring Angvardi blood into the line. He had to cut that off before it could take root and blossom for the sake of the kingdom.

 

"Indeed, and using him to destroy the prophets was a genius move," agreed Kazzel. "We don't need their meddling in our affairs. What, if I might ask, will you be doing about the seers? They could prove to be a trouble, probably more so than the prophets."

 

"Leave them to me," Amberis said confidently. "I have been arranging things to keep them well distracted. Among them, personal interpretation is key. They may see the truth of things, but that doesn't mean they will know what they are seeing. The timing of this move was deliberate. With the bulk of the kingdom's army moving north, it will mask the movement of our own forces elsewhere. Any seer who happens to see our forces will likely assume they are either part of the northern march, late reinforcements to that campaign, or are moving to protect areas left unguarded by that march. If they see violence and death, they will assume it is related to the fighting up north. At worst, they may assume it is related to the current infighting between the damned wizards and whoever has decided to start killing them off."

 

Kazzel squinted at his guest and allowed his jowls to sink even lower than normal in a sign of concern. "You mean, those aren't your men behind the attacks?"

 

"No," Amberis admitted in a light tone. He kept a slight grin on his face as he explained, "I don't much care because they are making my job so much easier. That whore of an empress has even requested for reinforcements from the Angvardi. It would be a great boon if we could catch a good portion of their wizards and battlemages in an ambush and wipe them out." The casualness in his demeanor belied the intense concern over the real identity of those who were causing such turmoil. He didn't like mysteries and the hooded men were definitely an unknown quantity that had the potential of giving him just as much problems as they were currently giving his cousin.

 

"That would be nice. I prefer a straight fight with steel and sweat to all the sparkling magic tricks. Wizards and mages always managed to mess everything up in a battle, I almost think we would be better without the lot of them." He grabbed a cup of wine too quickly causing it to spill thick red liquid like blood over his fingertips and onto the table.

 

Though he was a mage himself, he could sympathize with the sentiment. Amberis had always wondered what life would be like if the vast majority of magic wielders were kept tightly locked up in a manner similar to how the prophets had been. They could cause a great deal of problems if left unchecked, but he wasn't quite ready to get rid of them all. They still had potential as he had found out when he needed a mage to enchant that clever little trap he had devised for the princess.

 

"They have their uses as long as they are properly controlled and kept on a short leash. They may think they are powerful, but in the end, there are not enough of them to defeat the armies the nobles command."

He leaned forward and took off a large rib and began gnawing on the succulent meat. Juices rolled down his chin and were wiped with a handkerchief of the finest silk that was worth a fortune. After tossing the greasy silk to the ground, he continued. "Back to our original topic, the seers are being dealt with. Those that aren't on my side will soon be or they will be eliminated. Perhaps I should give my cousin the idea that some of them are plotting against him. He is likely to just slaughter the lot of them if I do that and the problem would be solved without any work on my part." Once he had finished, he cracked open the rib and began sucking the marrow out.

 

"That would be a true gift," Kazzel agreed as he plopped a juicy piece of pigeon into his mouth. He chomped down on the meat without concern for etiquette and added, "The priests would use it as fuel to the fires of discontent they have been stirring and the people would start calling him a madman."

 

"I will see what I can do, but I don't want to draw too much attention to myself just yet. If Rael or one of the others starts realizing that I am guiding them to too many targets, they may grow suspicious."

 

"Eh, if they do, just point them out to me. I will make sure that they suffer some unfortunate accident in the streets. With all the assassinations and riots, such a thing is a growing risk we all must take every day, right?"

 

Yes, there was much that Amberis liked about Kazzel. His willingness to shed blood was definitely high up there. "Indeed. Come spring, when the king's armies and most loyal officers and lords are fighting in the cursed forests of the Krue, we will make our move and see a true Terulan sitting on the throne."

 

With a sly grin, Kazzel tipped his glass in Amberis' direction and said, "Long live the king."

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I'm ambivalent about the use of the خ symbol/sound. Personally, I don't think it will change how people read it, unless when you have this published, you include a pronunciation glossary for those names who have a particular sound that isn't really conveyed in the English alphabet.

 

Only one critique here, which is a typo...

 

"He chomped the meant down and added". You've typed meant not meat here. I also think chomped is not the best word, its a very rough and coarse word and feels out of place. That may be the feel you're going for, but I think you could find a better word that doesn't sound out of place, but stills conveys the feel you're looking for.

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Yes, it was a typo, but I was going for a crude and coarse feeling. These guys are sitting around snacking while congratulating themselves on getting over a thousand people killed and plotting to assassinate numerous other people, including an 18 year old girl. I tried to throw in a few other less pleasant descriptor words in there (like "jowls" and "plopped") to go with some of the more coarse language (like whore and bitch). Though, perhaps I should reword that to "chomped down on the meat and added" as that flows a bit better.

 

As for the word, does Khrue automatically inspire you to say "Oh, that is read like 'crew'" or does it make you think of something else, even if you aren't 100% sure how to actually say it?

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Kh isn't a standard letter-sound in English, so I personally still look at it and think *crew*. Are you familiar with IPA? If you were to work out how you want it pronounced, I might be able to help you come up with a spelling that shows it correctly?

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As for the spelling change, I agree with Brendo. It's up to you, but even if you do change it to 'kh', it won't change how a normal reader would pronounce it. It would still be "crew" because of the lack of the [x] sound in English (that's the IPA symbol for the sound you mean). Because that sound isn't in English and this is being written in English for an English-speaking audience, I think you're just going to have to accept that most people will say "crew" for it. Even if you do (and should, if you care about it) put in a pronunciation guide, you'll still get people who don't bother to change their pronunciation and say "crew".

 

Good chapter, interesting. Three things:

 

Word of the Tower's destruction and the prophet's end spread throughout the kingdom like wildfires on the Plains of Battle in summer

 

I think you mean prophets', not prophet's.

 

He had a normal flock back in Angvard, but he had elected to journey with his charge for their winter trip. He had been with her on trips to Terula City or other locations in Terula while she spent her time with her father, but that was before he had risen to the position as a full priest and mentored a temple of his own. Though his primary duty was to Raella, he missed tending to the needs of those back home who looked up to him. When Raella asked him to journey with her once more, he immediately went into prayer. After many sleepless nights, he felt a peace about leaving his flock and joining her. The temple had other priests, so he spent a few weeks guiding his supplicants to them so they could have their spiritual comfort even while he was away. They seemed grateful, but many had expressed how much they would miss him in the months he would be in the south.

 

You change tense halfway through this paragraph, starting at "When Raella". It should be "had asked", "he had immediately gone into prayer", "he had felt a peace", "he had spent a few weeks".

 

The third thing I wanted to point out is that I feel that Raella is being really immature here. You're portraying her as a twelve-year-old, both in her response and the way her priest is talking to her. I understand that you want to show that she is sheltered, but I think you took it a little far. We know she's not super immature, because we've seen her thought processes in other chapters. It jarred me in this chapter to see her acting and being treated like a little kid.

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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NOTE: I have edited in another 700 or so words into Chapter 33. If you truly care, you might want to reread it, especially the dialogue between Ansee and Raella.

 

As for the spelling change, I agree with Brendo. It's up to you, but even if you do change it to 'kh', it won't change how a normal reader would pronounce it.

Perhaps you are right. There is no English equivalent to that exact sound, so I must make due with what I can. To be honest, what I hope for isn't that much off from "crew," it is just adding a little more air (from the "h") between the "K" and the "r" sounds. I will throw it in and who knows, maybe people will get it. If not, then when the movie/TV series comes out, I will make sure they get it right.

 

I think you mean prophets', not prophet's.

You are correct and it has been fixed.

 

You change tense halfway through this paragraph,

Once again, correct and it has been fixed.

 

The third thing I wanted to point out is that I feel that Raella is being really immature here.

Let it never be said that I ignore the feedback of my readers. I have gone through and reworked portions of their conversation and changed its direction. I wish I could have thought to highlight what was changed in red, but I had already edited over (first edit) the original post before I thought to do that. Needless to say, this chapter went from about 3400 to over 4100 words, most of that in the Raella/Ansee section.

 

and the way her priest is talking to her.

If you are referring about how he calls her "child" all the time, that is intentional and won't be changed. He is a priest, she is his charge (parishioner of sorts). Catholic priests call everyone their child just as the parishioners call them "father." And no, I am not comparing the Way with Catholicism or Christianity or any specific Earth religion. It is a combination of multiple aspects of multiple generic religions.

 

I also think chomped is not the best word, its a very rough and coarse word and feels out of place. That may be the feel you're going for, but I think you could find a better word that doesn't sound out of place, but stills conveys the feel you're looking for.

As mentioned, I have gone through and added even more coarseness to the section. Some examples are of Amberis gnawing a rib then later breaking it open to suck out the marrow. Another is more of an allegory where Kazzel spills blood red wine over his fingers. There were a couple more that demonstrated how dismissive these two men were of their wealth and power and how little they cared about the lives of others.

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Okay, so I read chapters 17-19 this time, and the bad news is that I had a long response written out and my computer promptly crashed. I really didn't have the energy to go back and duplicate it, but I think that I recall all of my "bigger" comments, and your editor will hopefully catch anything small.

 

Chapter 17 - I love the giant leaps forward we are making in plot and understanding Syler's purpose and abilities! I thought the discussion tying together all of the various religions was interesting, but what really grabbed my attention was the vision where Syler confronts the Elements themselves. This was really interesting, and I liked how you showed us from the start the various struggles within the Elements themselves. It was pretty easy to tell that Crusos was a bad guy! I had to laugh when you posted the picture of the sentinel from Thor, because throughout your description of Erastmus I kept having this niggling feeling that he reminded me of someone, and as soon as that picture showed up I remembered who!

 

Chapter 18 - Overall I think you did a really good job with the conversation between Syler and Bronwyn. I thought you extrapolated very realistic emotions on Bronwyn's side and portrayed it pretty well, something which is usually not easy to do in a more extreme scenario such as this! I remember thinking that there were a few places I would suggest relatively minor tweaks to smooth it out, but that it wouldn't be easy to convey in a response anyways, so if you're interested let me know and perhaps I'll PM you with them.

 

The only more major tweak I had was the progression leading towards the "fade to black." (Quick side note - I appreciate the tactful way you did this and, while you did break your promise , I could see the reason you put it in after Syler's firm decision not to sleep with Bronwyn without loving her, Bronwyn's subsequent rape, and now it being a sign of deep, caring love and healing on both sides). I guess my one concern with that is yes, Bronwyn is now feeling secure in Syler's love and fully healed, both of which could create a very exuberant and impulsive action, but at the same time, she has been raped so recently! Especially considering that most of the time since that occurred (i.e .buffer time to get over it) was spent unconscious, something which you, yourself recognized, this would still be fresh in her mind or automatic responses. I don't think that it makes this sex scene impossible at this time, since it does have a good placement in the plot for those other reasons, but rather that she seemed to be completely unaffected by the rape once she had talked it out with Syler, and trying to imagine my reactions after a similar event I'm just not sure that's possible. Bronwyn has no idea what a gentle and loving touch in this intimate way could be like, so I would imagine a little hesitance, a few stops and starts, maybe even an initial flinch before she catches herself. Syler, being the man he is, would probably purposefully ask if if this is okay with her and remind her it is not the same. I think you briefly touched on this:

What started as a gentle kiss from him turned into something more meaningful as she returned it with surprisingly powerful desire. Bronwyn was stiff and hesitant at first, but eventually relaxed and put her arms around him. Her tears stopped and, in the brief moments between kisses that they just looked into each others eyes, he could see that her eyes were no longer filled with sorrow or worry.
but I think that you could expand it a little more to give us even more emotion without having to change the rating of the scene at all.

 

Chapter 19 - I'm glad to see the gang reunited! I was only a little way into this chapter when my computer crashed, so I do have more in-depth comments for the majority of it. I do like how you continue to note the differences in culture that make for misunderstandings - or potential trouble, later!

 

Miss Vekla there knows what I am talking about, don't you dearie?"
I think there needs to be a comma after the "you," and the use of "dearie" seemed really strange to me. I know that obviously it's a sarcastic word choice, but even with sarcasm it seemed out of place for Growald. Maybe give him more of a sneer when he says it and that would help?

 

Syler considered the man's words as calmly as he could. It was true, had he now known that by giving into the red that he would eventually touch upon some form of power and strength, he might not have been able to summon the energy needed to summon Suella. As he thought about it more, it almost made sense in a perverted sort of way that in fighting against Growald, he had learned something that had allowed him to save his beloved's life. He still wasn't happy in giving the brute credit, but he did manage to say, "You could have just told me afterwards what you had done."
So I think I understand what you were trying to convey about why Growald did things the way he did - by touching the power once he had a vague idea that it was possible for him to save Bronwyn and a small understanding that ti was connected to the red haze. Nonetheless, this paragraph was really confusing and almost made it harder to grasp that rather than easier, particularly from sentence #2. Is there another way to make that more clear?

 

"That just breaks me heart," said Growald though he didn't seem to devastated about it.
I wasn't sure if you were using "me" to emphasize a sarcastic tone or not. So, if not, it should be "my," and if so, I would strengthen Growald's voice tone by changing it from not being devastated to outright saying a mocking tone.

 

"Syler, I think now would be a good time to be quiet," Bronwyn said.

LOL! Good thing Bronwyn is there to wisely remind him when he might need to shut up.

 

I thought the confirmation process made sense, sad as it was. When taken in conjunction with the prophecies, the Master of Magic would come without knowing what he is (and therefore without a background in controlling magic), so the fact that he can defeat someone using it confirms his control of the Magic (specifically, his control over the magic around him rather than an inherent ability to create it himself, at least in this case) as well as serves as a teaching point in how to use his abilities, similar to the healing of Bronwyn. Similarly, Avenil's family line and actions thus far made it quite believable that he would have no qualms stepping forward to death in order to bring about this confirmation - clearly, he had committed himself fully to this role already. At the same time, I thought you did a good job of keeping Syler's character intact (both as the Master of Magic perceived by Avenil and Vekla, and Syler as we know him already) by the forced hand to bring about his confirmation - everyone expected he would not want this seemingly unnecessary bloodshed. Also, the fact that the absolute force of those magic attacks was never seen on Syler made it impossible to guess that one single blast turned back on Avenil would kill him. If Syler had been aware, I have no doubt he would have tried to strike Avenil's leg or the ground around him, but this again goes back to prophecy and the fact that Avenil knew he would have to die. All very interesting how it ties together! I like how even prophecy has given Syler clear paths to learn some of his abilities. I think my one critique for this battle would be that you tell us more about his friends when they find themselves held at knife point. It seems almost like an aside - suddenly they're at knife point, but still the conversation is centered between Avenil and Syler. This seemed strange to me - I would have expected an attempted scuffle from Lamastus or Growald even if quickly subdued, a lingering look from Syler to Bronwyn in particular, perhaps an exasperated or indignant comment from Havert, etc...

 

Syler was genuinely confused as how to progress.
As to how to progress?

 

"I, Vekla Saekoris, pledge myself to you, Syler Penion of Sandrin, Majiyae Oretezu, Lord of Clan Thwrud. I will follow your commands and serve you until my death or your honorable succession."
Wowsers! Wonder which one it will be for her?

 

Vekla didn't seem to know what to say, so she bowed her head and stared at the ground. "As you wish," she muttered.
Okay, so I understand how defeating the lan leader would also immediately transfer this title to Syler, but it did seem a little strange that the conversation immediately and completely shifted from the Master of Magic to this. I can handle the fact that Syler is in denial of what he will do, even if it still seems a little weird immediately after a crazy battle like that. On the other hand, for Vekla, even dazed by her father's death it seems she would be fully immersed and pointed towards the Master of Magic - her whole family was involved in this role. That said, it seems like she would focus first on his confirmation and second on being Lord of Thwrud, and this would follow for the whole conversation after, rather than the other way around... especially considering her father just gave his life for that. She's a strong woman, I imagine her arguing more instead of having nothing to say. Just my opinion, but it didn't feel quite right to me.

 

The others, no free of their temporary Krue captors, were talking out to where the middle of the arena even as Syler continued.
Now free, were walking, out to the.

 

He looked up at the gathered Krue and started yelling for all of them to hear. "Is this what you wanted!" He pointed at Avenil's body.
That needs to be a question mark, not an exclamation mark. You've already told us he was yelling, so the extra emphasis is understood.

 

"Power will be given to you among mortals, accept it and use it. Battles and wars will be fought, wage them and win them. Do not resist prophecy and when the time comes, heed my call.
I thought we would have to wait much longer to discover Crusos' price (okay, so we've only discovered it in part...)! Too bad he found just the right button to push to keep Syler under control already... Why do I have the feeling that Syler won't want to have to obey that final call any more than he does now?

 

On Vekla-Avenil connection, I could completely understand how Syler missed it. I had, too! When meeting so many people, parts of a name can fall out of the memory quickly. If he had realized that, I'm sure he would have reacted differently in the battle. At the same time, Bronwyn is as (or possibly more) discombobulated as Syler since they're arrived at the Krue. She missed Vekla's formal introduction at the forest boundary and awoke after the introduction to Avenil. With all of her joy and fearful sorrow, even in subsequent introductions she could have missed it. So, I was almost more surprised that she caught it than that Syler missed it. Granted, understanding Krue could have helped her overhear this connection outside of introductions. I think you could add some mention of how she knew this to help make it more plausible.

 

[big breath.] Alright, done. Three more chapters down in the crazy catch up. Still liking this a lot!

"It's always these little worlds that get you in trouble. Like Tatooine. I'm still living that one down." - Han Solo

Your barnacle has carnivorous salamanders the size of whales.

"Let us hold unswervingly to the faith we profess, for he who promised is faithful." -Heb. 10:23

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Very well, I shall provide more.

 

Back to the Syler and Co. storyline for a bit. Just to make things clear, it has been three and a half months since we last left them (shortly after returning from picking up Karusa). I mention it a few times, but I want to make that abundantly clear. To that end, I am also considering going back and adding a "date" section at the start of each chapter sort of like how I do a location. Not sure what to base it off (am thinking the Battle of Fazei Crossing from the beginning of the book).

 

Anyway, when you read this, please don't give me a bunch of comments about how odd Syler is acting. I am fully, completely aware of this and begin to explain it in literally the second paragraph of the next part (which is already written).

 

_____________________

 

 

Chapter 34

 

The lords of Ganti, Yaeetris, Dunerei, Krasto, and Lotorn are with you, Lord Syler. More have expressed interest and could soon join our side. Soon, you will be ready to travel to Krue Vael and openly proclaim yourself the Majiyae Oretezu.

 

— report from Captain Delmonor to Syler Penion

 

Thwrud

Krue Territory

 

Lord Zeraln swept open the doors to the longhouse that held the throne from which the Lord of Thwrud held court with a single shove of his powerful hand. Once inside, he eyed the Thwrudil guards that immediately blocked his path with crossed spears with impatience. They glared at him for a moment before taking in his crest and the foot long beard that adorned his face and quickly raised their weapons to allow him entrance. He ignored them and instead strode straight past the long tables and up to the throne where a man sat talking with several others.

 

His eyes narrowed at the sight of the scrawny, red haired man sitting in the throne telling what appeared to be some sort of story. Those around him, mostly servants and unproven warriors, seemed enraptured with his every word as he told of someone called King Fazei and the "Great Trek." He had never heard of that man nor of the journey being described, but he was not surprised. This man was not even a Krue and that was why he had come. How such a man could have defeated a mighty and terrifying Skryia and demanded the loyalty of all of the Lords of the Krue was beyond him, but perhaps his power was in his magic instead of his arms. This man didn't even have a beard and didn't look as though he could swing a battleaxe much less throw a lance while atop a hasuan.

 

"Lord Syler Penion of Sandrin," he called out as was proper. Because he knew that his host was not Krue, but rather was foreign born, he used their lesser tongue even though it felt strange to force his lips to form those words. "I am Lord Zeraln Gaslir of Nangoru and I have come to answer your call."

 

The man paused and looked at him in a flash of surprise and horror before snapping out of it and smiling. "Oh no, sir, I ain't Syler."

 

Zeraln frowned at the response because he wasn't familiar with the word "ain't." The red haired one apparently mistook that for anger because he seemed to sink back into the throne and said, "I-I am Havert Jakaras, Syler's er, advisor."

 

That much he was able to understand. "Where is the Lord of Thwrud?" Zeraln growled. He was a mighty warrior and was able to become impressively intimidating when he wanted. Even though he was born with no magic, some of his captains would whisper behind his back that when he grew angered, storm clouds appeared out of nowhere to usher in his wrath.

 

"Umm," Havert said as he suddenly noticed that the others had all but fled behind the throne. "He's in the smithy like he normally is."

 

With a snort of impatience, Zeraln pivoted on one heel and stormed back the way he came and out of the longhouse. He had no time for sycophants and would not be stalled by a mere boy sitting in a seat he did not deserve to be in. What this "Lord Syler" did with his throne was his own business, determining if he was a threat to Nangoru was Zeraln's.

 

He met up with his personal guard outside the longhouse and quickly found a guide to the village's smithy. Along the way, he could not help but notice in absolute disgust the presence of numerous kalklata, outsiders, foreigners from other lands. They scurried around wrapped in whatever furs and cloth they could to beat back the cold of winter as they went about whatever menial tasks they had. He saw how they looked at him with fear and knew why their kind had never been able to conquer the Sacred Wood. Seeing them here was almost blasphemy. They were worthless, beyond redemption. It would be a cruel joke indeed if the Spirits had chosen their champion from among their kind.

 

Once there, he weaved past the hasuan waiting to be outfitted with shoes and armor and into the noisy smithy itself. The hammering and the sound of the hissing metal assaulted his ears, but at least it was a welcome respite from the cold.

 

His keen eyes quickly noted and dismissed several of the smiths and apprentices, but were caught by an image he had never thought he would see. He had received many odd reports coming from Thwrud over the last three months, but this was the one that struck him as most odd, almost offensive. If this was what the Thwrudil were reduced to, his stay here would be short indeed. "I did not know the men of Thwrud allowed their women to mold their steel for them," he said loudly and critically. All eyes immediately turned toward him, including the woman's, but not before she carefully put down her hammer and the pitch black object she had been pounding on. For a moment, nobody spoke.

 

At last, a firm voice spoke out from his left, "I did not know that it was the concern of my guests what we allowed our women to do."

 

Zeraln turned his head to behold a soot and grime covered man dressed in some sort of glossy black armor that was missing only the helmet. In his right hand was a heavy hammer nearly the size of his arm. He was emerging from a doorway that led deeper into what appeared to be a forge. Rivers of sweat had streaked down his face, but he did not seem the least bit tired. In his piercing eyes burned a fire that was one moment away from becoming an inferno. Zeraln did not lash out a retort or laugh out loud because of the tingle that ran down his spine and caused the hairs on the back of his burly neck to stand on end.

 

The man continued until he was able to place himself between Zeraln and the woman and studied him with curiosity. When he was done, their eyes met and Zeraln found himself taking an involuntary step back. There was something about this man, something he had seen in only the most powerful and dangerous of individuals, and at that moment, Zeraln knew he had found the real Lord of Thwrud.

 

"Who are you and what makes you feel that you can come into my domain and question my wife?" There was no mistaking the challenge in Syler's voice. His nostrils were flaring with barely controlled anger and for once, Zeraln didn't feel the need to respond as he normally did.

 

Despite being thrown off balance in this exchange, Zeraln was a seasoned warrior and was not easy to cow. "I am Lord Zeraln Gaslir of Nangoru. I am here to respond to your challenge and see for myself if you are who you claim to be."

 

Syler didn't take his eyes off of his guest. "Did you not hear the words of those whom I sent out?"

 

"I did," said Zeraln with a nod.

 

"Do you believe them to be liars then?"

 

"I believe they are capable of being deceived."

 

Syler pursed his lips and said, "I see. In what part were they deceived?"

 

Zeraln paused and blinked. "What do you mean?"

 

"You said that you believe the witnesses could be deceived," clarified Syler as he grabbed a somewhat clean towel from a nearby rack and began wiping his face. "I asked which part you believe they were deceived in. Was it that I defeated eight wielders of magic and a Skryia single handedly, or that I am the Majiyae Oretezu."

 

With a sneer, Zeraln said, "Nobody defeats a Skryia alone, it takes entire armies to face one."

 

Syler's response was to arch a single eyebrow. "Truly?"

 

He turned back to the woman and said softly, "Bronwyn, my helmet, please." She nodded and went into the forge where Syler had been earlier. As she did that, Syler casually walked over to her station up the workstation she had been working on when Zeraln interrupted her.

 

"I was not aware that Krue were so easily deceived," said Syler as he set the hammer down and began running his fingers over the black object she had been working on. "I am concerned that one of their lords would have such little faith in his own people as to question hundreds of firsthand witnesses."

 

"The commoners always exaggerate their stories," Zeraln shot back. "Only a fool would believe every story he was told."

 

Syler looked back over at his guest and nodded, "I agree. You are not alone in your doubt. Many lords have braved the snows and traveled here to see me in person. I can respect their willingness to personally see into things instead of sending another, but I do not tolerate being called a liar."

 

"I have said no such thing." It was never wise to insult a lord of the Krue in their own stronghold and Zeraln did not consider himself a fool.

 

"But you did. You did by doubting my word and by questioning the men I sent."

 

"I am not responsible for how you view my actions."

 

"That is true indeed, Lord Zeraln, but in coming here and challenging me, you have forced me to respond." There was silence for a short time before Bronwyn returned with a particularly frightening looking helmet that sent another tingle down Zeraln's back. She gave it to him wearing a half smirk on her face and stepped back ready to watch the forthcoming show. Syler remained there holding the helmet before nodding slightly to himself as if coming to a decision, then putting the helmet on. "One more thing, in regards to your first comment upon what my wife was working on. It was not mere steel." In a sudden move, he picked up the large hammer he had set down earlier, heaved it over his shoulder, then brought it crashing down on the black object she had been working on.

 

The sound of the tempered, hardened steel of the hammer slamming into a solid object rang across the entire smithy eliciting a yelp of surprise from a few of the smiths. Zeraln frowned at the curious display, but could not help himself from looking at where Syler had struck. He had expected to see the black metal flattened by the giant hammer, but to his shock, that was not what happened. Instead, he saw that the hammer had done nothing at all to the object beneath it, but had in truth possibly received a dent of its own where it had struck a crease.

 

Syler set the hammer down, picked up the object, and tossed it to his guest. The lord deftly caught it by habit and immediately noticed it was far lighter than steel should have been. In fact, it was lighter and thinner than any metal he had seen, yet it had withstood a direct and powerful blow with a forge hammer without any visible sign of stress or damage. Now that he was holding it, the object appeared to be a fauld to go with a set of plate armor.

 

Syler stepped closer to his guest and into better light. It was then, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that Zeraln realized that he was covered in something that looked very similar to what he was holding. Even in better light, the armor seemed to be nothing but an inky blackness, as though no light could escape. There was no reflection like in normal metals, no sparkling of the firelight or glare from the pale sun. Zeraln's eyes widened and he took two steps back in shock.

 

"No," said Syler from beneath the concealment of his terrifying helmet, "this is not steel or iron or in fact, any form of metal. Judging by the stunned expression on your face, you seem to realize what I am wearing. Just in case, let me tell you, just as I have the other lords who have come before you. I am clad in the remnants of the Skryia I defeated on that grassy field three and a half months ago. I decided to make a set of armor for myself out of its remains because I have found that it works remarkably well in convincing others of the veracity of my statements. So, Lord Zeraln, what say you to joining my wife and I for dinner tonight?"

 

Zeraln could muster no words, but stood there gaping at Syler in a mixture of fear and dread.

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I actually don't think Syler is acting at all odd. He's a smith, so it's normal for him to be in the smithy, and his honour, integrity and wife have been insulted, so he's right to be pissed.

 

I quite like the way you've handled this chapter to be honest. I do agree that a date on each chapter, or at least at the start of sections where there is a large gap in time sice the previous is needed.

 

You brought in Zeraln in a very realistic and believable manner, complete with built in racism and superiority-complex. I think the change he underwent in this chapter as the pieces slowly came together for him, and Sylers attitude towards him had it's intended effect, were handled well. I get the impression that he is going to be an important figure in this story, either as an ally of convenience (on Zeralns part) or a genuine ally. I also don't think he is going to get on with Havert

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Order of the Nocturnal

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Well, he apologizes a bit because it is not yet in his nature to be so, well, dominating and imperialistic.

 

Anyway, next part, straight off the press. I tried to use this part to offer a description of some of the changes that the main characters have undergone. Only three people speak in this section despite nine being present (the core cast of Syler's Scoobies). Take careful note in clothes, weapons, and what descriptions were provided because none of those details were just by chance and some will become downright crucial later on.

 

Upon further reflection, I have decided to stick with "Krue" and not attempt to alter it. I wrote this chapter with the "Kh" and it just didn't look right, so I changed it back.

 

Oh, heads up, next chapter begins with another of Bronwyn's crazy dreamstate intros. I am excited about it!

 

 

 

__________________________

 

 

That evening, after enjoying a nice hot bath with Bronwyn and scrubbing off the grime of the smithy and the forge, the Lord and Lady of Thwrud met with their honored guest in their estate. Zeraln arrived at the sturdy pine doors not knowing what sort of situation he was getting into. Honor and protocol dictated that he not refuse his host's request to dine, not when he was within the borders of Thwrud, so he had no choice but to arrive.

 

To his surprise, it was not a servant who greeted him, but Syler himself. He was no longer dressed in the black armor, but was in a simple but finely tailored tunic of thick forest green velvet with a dark brown leather overcoat trimmed in bronze buttons. "Nasle, Ley Zarln se Nangoru," Syler said, welcoming his guest in Kruish, though it had a very clear foreign accent. His voice, far from being hostile, was warm and friendly. It was a very different greeting from what Zeraln was expecting.

 

"[You speak our tongue,]" said Zeraln in surprise. "[i was led to believe that you were largely ignorant of our ways and language.]"

 

After a pause, Syler replied hesitantly, "[Little, much not. Best listen, not talk.]" Gone was the intimidating warrior of the smithy, he had been replaced by a young man not quite sure of his ability to even speak properly. Zeraln would not have believed that this was the same man whom he met just hours ago. Even then, he knew that man was still there, buried somewhere underneath this placid, almost meek exterior.

 

Still on edge from their previous encounter, Zeraln did not wish to do anything that would give this man a cause to grow angry with him. In the three hours since they last met, he had been forced to reconsider his position regarding Syler's claim to the title of Majiyae Oretezu. It seemed that he had indeed defeated a Skryia and if that much was true, then it was likely true that the parts of him fighting the monster alone were also correct. That he was able to stand against the fires and lightning of the mages without seeming to use a counter spell led credence that he was truly the master of magical forms.

 

"Then we had best speak in your own tongue," Zeraln said.

 

"That would be nice," he said as he sagged in relief. He started leading his guest down the torch lit hallway toward the banquet hall. "I am trying to learn your language, but it will take time and I have been busy preparing for war. I am sorry for the theatrics earlier. I have found that putting on a strong face like that tends to help break the prejudices of those who come to my door. I hope you will find tonight to be far more hospitable."

 

Zeraln waved away the apology, "You were right to act as you did. I came into your home and insulted your ways when it was not my place."

 

With a chuckle, Syler said, "Being a warlord is not something I grew up preparing for."

 

Zeraln looked at the side of Syler's face with curiosity. "You are the first warlord I have met who spends time working in the smithy."

 

Syler shrugged, "What can I say? I am a smith. Sometimes, when the pressures of dealing with the incoming refugees and the Krue and everything else gets too much, I just feel like pounding on something. What better way to get out my frustration than to beat on metal with a giant hammer? Plus, when I am done, the army has another sword or piece of armor."

 

"Do you not train with your men? Surely a man as young as you who has not grown up a warrior must have a great deal to learn."

 

Syler turned his head and favored Zeraln with a sort of half smile. "Yes, I have to train myself, but not in the way you are thinking. I have been very blessed by Lord Avenil's parting gift."

 

Zeraln waited for him to continue, but he didn't say anything further. It didn't take long to arrive at the banquet hall. As was Kruish style, a large fire that ran down the middle of the room provided both warmth and light. Though it was nowhere near as large as the longhouse's feast hall, the two tables that ran the length of the room on either side of the fire were both over thirty feet long. Food had been laid out along one end of the room and it was clear to Zeraln that this was not a large affair. Seated at the table were only seven others, their mixed backgrounds immediately apparent to even a casual observer. Syler was, naturally, at the head of the table with Zeraln to his left.

 

After they had been seated, Syler introduced his guest to the others. Bronwyn, seated to Syler's right in the second most prominent of seats, was dressed in a forest green dress trimmed in black to match her husband. Her dress spoke of devotion and loyalty to her husband and a desire to support him. Zeraln noticed that her hand tended to rest protectively on her stomach or lap, but she was not armed. Throughout the dinner, she was polite and considerate, but reserved. She spoke her mind and even corrected Lord Syler in details as he explained how they met and their past, but she didn't try to make him seem foolish or belittle him, even in jest. It was clear to him that though they did not choose to be paired together, they had come to love and trust each other.

 

To Bronwyn's right was Havert who was no longer as nervous as during his first encounter with Zeraln. He wore a blood red tunic with a matching over cloak. A dark brown leather bandoleer was strapped across his chest, though his cloak concealed what it held. As before, Zeraln had some difficulty in understanding the man due to his rather peculiar use of the Common Tongue, but the others seemed to be accustomed to it and interpreted as was necessary. Zeraln made the mistake of asking Havert about an obscure aspect of Sei history and was forced to sit through a five minute story of one of the Sei's folk heroes. After that, the Kruish lord refrained from inquiring into the Sei's past.

 

Sitting next to Havert was his wife, Alltis, who was clearly pregnant. She wore an off white dress with gold embroidery that gave her a refined look and helped her stand out against her darker clothed companions. She wore no weapons and was clearly no warrior, but that didn't mean that Syler treated her with any less respect. It was odd to see him treat this woman the same way he treated everyone else at the table. Most Kruish lords valued wives, then warriors, then hasuan tenders, and lastly everyone else. Lord Syler didn't and treated everyone at the table with equal respect and courtesy. Zeraln wasn't quite sure if it was a sign of weakness or strength. He needed to see more before he could decide.

 

To the right of Alltis was Karusa, sister to the lord. At first, Zeraln assumed that the woman's placement away from Syler himself indicated some sort of disfavor, but over the course of the meal, it became clear that she was there by choice. She was quiet and rarely interacted with the others. Even her dress, a dress cut in a foreign style he assumed was Sei, seemed to distance herself. Others tried to engage her in conversation, especially Bronwyn and Alltis, but she barely responded. Zeraln found that odd, but was able to put the pieces together and figure her story. His scouts had reported that Syler and a small company had been returning from beyond the Sacred Woods when they encountered Lord Maveris' assault company. That, and the subtle hints dropped during the course of the conversation led him to believe that the reason why Syler and the others were outside Krue territory was to find and bring her back. He didn't know her full story, but something about her intrigued him. He made a note to try to talk to her in private sometime before he returned to Nangoru if at all possible.

 

On the other side of the table, sitting to the left of Zeraln was Vekla in her full black leather armor with its gold trim indicating that she had ascended to a position of mastership in her field. Zeraln managed to conceal his discomfort when he found out that she was not just a warrior, but a sorceress. Magic had never made him comfortable because he knew how devastating it could be. He was glad that she choose not to wear her war paint, though he did note the chain of milky blue gemstones that she wore around her neck as a sign of her preference. That alone spoke volumes to her disposition and potential. Like most of her kind, she needed no weapons to unleash destruction, though she did have a few knives on her belt.

 

Next to the sorceress was Lamastus. He too was in armor, though it was not Kruish in design. While the Krue preferred light leathers to give them mobility and flexibility while riding, Lamastus preferred to wear heavier mail with scaled armor along the chest and shoulders. It was clearly a set he was comfortable with because he seemed relaxed. He wore a broadsword with a strange, curved quillion that was turned up to catch enemy's blades. Zeraln had only seen such a weapon being used by those from beyond the Metles when a stray Orega war party had encroached upon Krue territory. One of them had used their quillion to actually snap his own blade after getting locked up in a melee. Zeraln had barely survived the attack and had only managed to win by using a dagger to rip out the Oregan's throat. Ever since, he had been wary of such weapons due to their cowardly nature. There was only one other odd things about the Angvardi. On his right forearm was tied a curious blue string that seemed incongruous with the rest of the warrior's attire he wore. Zeraln wondered if it might be some sort of ward or charm.

 

After Lamastus was a burly and quiet Captain Delmonor. He was dressed in a set of studded black leather armor that was about as heavy as any Krue would feel comfortable in. Lord Syler's captain kept mostly to himself at first, though later, after several tankards of mead and ale, he loosened up and joined in the conversation. His weapons of choice seemed to be a giant war axe strapped onto his back and a smaller hand axe on his belt. Zeraln found that he liked the Thrwudil captain because he felt he could understand the man warrior to warrior. He didn't rely on magic to face his foes, he did so with the strength of his arms and his own cunning.

 

After the meal had been served and the required niceties had been observed, they sat back and began the discussion in earnest. Zeraln saw an opportunity to ask a question that had been burning into his mind all day. "Lord Syler, I must ask you this. How did you come by that armor?"

 

Syler took a sip from his cup in an effort to hide the knowing grin that rose on his lips. Everyone asked the same question ever since he had finished it. "Before I came here, before I was called to be what I am now, I was a simple blacksmith. When I fought the Skryia, its body was an oily mass of impenetrable black armor from which no sword or stone could pierce. Even as I was dangling in the air within its crushing grasp, I could not help but admire is purity and strength. Once I sucked its very life out of its body and left it dead on the battlefield, I was surprised to find that its oily skin had hardened into misshapen lumps of black… something.

 

"I ordered every piece, large and small, collected and returned here so I could study them. It took two months and the best smiths, mages, sorceresses, and even wizards that I could find, but we eventually discovered how to coax it back into its liquid form so we could mold and work it. We had to use molds because once it hardened again, nothing we possessed could so much as dent it.

 

"It took everyone in the forge two weeks to make the molds for my set of armor. We worked tirelessly to craft this suit of armor and, as I think you will agree, the results have been astonishing. Mail was beyond our capability due to the impossibility of bending the rings, so we fashioned hardened steel rings alchemically altered to match the Skryia's black color. Even then, there are few vulnerabilities in the plates. Surprisingly, despite being a heavy plate armor, it is only slightly heavier than the normal Kruish leathers."

 

"Can it even be destroyed?" asked Zeraln.

 

"Sure," Syler said with a shrug. "We ran many tests on the first sheet we successfully produced. Physical weapons won't hurt it, though we did manage to put a small dent in it by using a steel tipped battering ram. We found that weapons with specific enchantments that gave the blade a sharper, stronger edge could do some damage, but nothing with the practicality needed for combat. The only thing that seemed to do any damage to it was some of Vekla's most powerful elemental spells. Her strongest lightning managed to burn a small hole through it just big enough to allow a child to place her finger in it. I suppose that it would be a lethal blow to someone were they wearing it."

 

"So you are only vulnerable to magic," muttered Zeraln.

 

Again, Syler gave him a lop sided grin and said, "Not exactly." The way he said that made it sound like some sort of inside joke, but Zeraln did not know how to address that.

 

Instead, he studied the bubbling amber liquid within his silver cup as he mulled over that information. "I don't understand then, if hammers cannot mold the armor, then what was Lady Bronwyn doing to that fauld?"

 

"I was removing it from its mold," replied Bronwyn. "When we pour the liquid Skryia into a mold, the mold is forever destroyed. Whatever material is next to the liquid is, well, diminished. We don't understand it, but it might have something to do with the Skryia's own nature in that destroys whatever it touches. To that end, lesser materials like wax, clay, and even wood do not last long enough to allow the liquid to harden. We must use iron, and even that doesn't last, fuses together, and becomes brittle. We are forced to chip away at the iron like stone. That is what I was doing and had just finished chipping away the iron mold around the fauld when you arrived."

 

"And you are a smith, too?" asked Zeraln.

 

She blushed slightly and shook her head, "Oh no, I am just an apprentice."

 

Syler hastily added, "She is a quick learner."

 

Bronwyn rolled her eyes and continued, "It started by me helping him around the small forge we had in Kubei. I started by getting the water and handing him tools, but it turned into him showing me how to do basic things. I might not be the best or the strongest smith, but I am learning."

 

"Did you not have a task of your own in Kubei?" Among the Krue, none were allowed to be idle from the youngest girls to the eldest men.

 

She shook her head, "Not particularly. As a caetos kvastal, the villagers always helped my family and afterwards in Kubei, Syler came before I…"

 

Her voice trailed off at Zeraln's expression. He had grown stiff and stared at her with wide eyes. Syler noticed the tension and asked in a level voice, "Are you okay, Lord Zeraln?"

 

Without looking at Syler, he responded distantly, "Yes…" There was a tense silence around the table as he continued staring at Bronwyn. After half a minute, he blinked several times and shook his head vigorously. "Uh, Lord Syler," he said stiffly, "I must thank you for your hospitality and beg your leave. I just remembered that I have some urgent business back in Nangoru that needs my immediate attention. I petition your leave."

 

Syler was as confused as the rest of them, but saw that questioning his guest was not going to yield any positive results. "Very well, Lord Zeraln, I grant you leave and bid you fair travels."

 

Zeraln stood up slowly, declining any offer of an escort from his host, and began retreating from the hall back the way he had come.

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There are a few issues with this post that I came across...

 

Gone was the intimidating warrior of the smithy, he had been replaced by a young man not quite sure of his ability to even speak properly. Zeraln

 

Still on edge from their previous encounter, Zeraln did not wish to do anything that would give this man a cause to grow angry with him.

 

It was clearly a set he was comfortable with because he seemed relaxed. He wore a broadsword with a On his right forearm was tied a curious blue string that seemed incongruous with the rest of the warrior's attire he wore. Zeraln wondered if it might be some sort of ward or charm.

 

The bolded bits don't quite make sense. I can only assume they are the result of editing?

 

Interesting section.The revelation about Bronwyn has either spooked, or warned Zeraln about something. His suddeness to depart seemed a bit odd, I would almost say rude, and I don't know that Syler would have been so accepting of the quick desire to departure on an obvious lie during dinner.

 

There was a couple of missed commas in there as well, but I can't find them now.

 

NOt much else to add. Good section, just needs a tidy up on the editing.

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Order of the Nocturnal

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Interesting. The first one was not a typo, but an error in transferring the data. I must have accidentally wiped out a line when separating the paragraphs. It should read:

 

Zeraln would not have believed that this was the same man whom he met just hours ago. Even then, he knew that man was still there, buried somewhere underneath this placid, almost meek exterior.

 

 

The second one was my bad. I went looking for a more proper name for the quillion (the "T" part of the sword hilt) and got sidetracked, so I kinda forgot to go back and finish the sentence. Oops. Anyway, here is what I have added.

 

He wore a broadsword with a strange, curved quillion that was turned up to catch enemy's blades. Zeraln had only seen such a weapon being used by those from beyond the Metles when a stray Orega war party had encroached upon Krue territory. One of them had used their quillion to actually snap his own blade after getting locked up in a melee. Zeraln had barely survived the attack and had only managed to win by using a dagger to rip out the Oregan's throat. Ever since, he had been wary of such weapons due to their cowardly nature. There was only one other odd things about the Angvardi. On his right forearm was tied a curious blue string that seemed incongruous with the rest of the warrior's attire he wore. Zeraln wondered if it might be some sort of ward or charm.

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This was actually a fun part to write. New character (a second seer) was added, we get to see a new side to Zeraln, and we get a little bit of WAR!!!!!!

 

Also, this piece officially pushed the entire novel past the 200,000 word mark. Things moving along, but I hope to finish the first novel in the next 60,000 words.

 

Please note: as these sections are from an entirely Kruish perspective, everything said or thought here would be in Kruish. Therefore, I would not use Kruish words like haresu (Easterners) because the entire thing is translated automatically. I just didn't want you to think I messed up or anything. And, before you ask, hasuan (the unicorns) is not a translated word, it is what they actually call them.

 

 

__________________________________

 

 

 

Chapter 35

 

We cannot find Alvaren Granad in any of our records, my king. It is as though the Sei king just disappeared from the face of Teladia after losing at Fazei Crossing. I have sent investigators to question officers in General Saveron's army and will continue to search here in Kasas Sei for further evidence.

 

— letter found on King Rael's desk, dated two months after the fall of the Kingdom of the Sei

 

Nangoru

Krue Territory

 

It was a battle of some sorts, that much she could tell, but where and when was still shrouded in mystery. Men were dying by the scores and the bodies of both man and hasuan were piling up higher than a man could see. Who they were fighting, she did not know, but it was a mighty battle on a scale she had never seen before.

 

Through it all, she could hear but one voice, one singular cry of abject anguish and fury. It was more terrifying than any she had heard before, even from a mother who had lost her young son in a terrible accident. It was more terrifying than the thought of those armies of men struggling for their very lives. It was as if the Spirits themselves had fled from the world and had abandoned them to the Harra-Hro'thiim.

 

She was there, standing amidst the carnage with arrows and spells flying around her, yet she was not afraid. This was not her time and she had nothing to fear. Instead of fear, her heart despaired for the one who was crying out.

 

She navigated the smoke and miasmic haze of the dreamvisions and forced herself to behold what she had been sent here to see. A man, one of great importance and strength, was kneeling on the blood stained ground. Cradled in his lap was a body, a woman's body. Her lifeless eyes stared up into the sky, unseeing and unfeeling.

 

The cries of pain pierced her soul and left her shaking even within her vision. War had been brought to them without permission. He had not asked to fight nor did he desire combat. He was not a warrior by choice.

 

After this day, that would change. She could feel it in her heart and it made her strangely sad. This man would become a foe greater than any his enemies had feared, and it would be their fault. She knew as surely as the sun rose in the east that he would destroy those responsible for taking this woman from him. If he were not careful, the world would be dragged down with him into despair and destruction.

 

 

 

"My Starlight, what is it?" said a gentle voice as a firm, callused hand shook her bare shoulder.

 

Kalida Gaslir's eyes opened to behold the outline of her husband's face in the darkness. Their bedroom was almost completely dark at night so she couldn't see his expression. Despite that, she could feel the concern emanating from him by the way his normally gruff voice had softened in the way he allowed it to only when they were alone together.

 

He had returned from Thwrud three days ago bearing news that had to be contemplated. The elders had immediately gone to work searching the old records and consulting the Spirits for guidance. The Domain of Nangoru was not the largest, but it had a rich history and great prominence among the domains of the Krue. As it went, many others would go and its lord would not make a decision of this import without considering everything.

 

"You know what it was," she said softly. She was still recovering from her vision and her future emotions. It was always difficult to adjust from the traumatic ones, but Zeraln had always understood and given her the time and tenderness to sort through what she had seen and tell him when she was ready.

 

He bent down to kiss her forehead. There was a thin sheen of sweat on her brow. He could feel her tension in her body and hear her shallow, rushed breathing. "It was a bad one, then." She nodded and allowed a single tear to slip from her eyes. "Come here and take my strength as your own," he whispered into her ear.

 

She rolled over to her side with her back facing away from him. He reached around her and pulled her close against him and wrapped her in his strong arms. She could feel the beard he had earned in battle brush up against her neck as he held her close and whispered comforting things into her ear.

 

Safe in his arms, she eventually calmed down and began to breathe normally. "There will be a battle," she stated.

 

Zeraln pulled his head back a little and said, "I know. The easterners will come and we will fight them."

 

"You must be in this battle."

 

"I know, I am a warrior, it is my purpose to fight for the People."

 

"You must ally with Lord Syler and fight beside him."

 

He stiffened for a brief moment, and when he spoke, resignation was thick in his voice, "I suspected as much. I do not yet know if he is the Master of Magic, but he there is definitely something about him. He is powerful, I can sense it, and he has powerful allies already. His ideas are foreign, completely contrary to our ways." He let out a sigh that ruffled her hair. "Spirits preserve me, perhaps that is what we need."

 

With sadness tainting his words, he continued, "Oh my beloved Starlight, beauty of my eye and wind of my spirit, I fear for our people. Never before have the easterners been united like this. I have seen the reports and scouted their camps and their numbers swell. We have long been strong and outnumbered against our foes, but never this desperately. The easterners have united and are consuming everything in their path. Word has it that they have crushed even the southern kingdoms and the wild people of the Wastes."

 

Another tear slid down from Kalida's eye and was absorbed the furs that lined their bed. "I know, I have seen it. We must do as our foes have and unite as a people. My lord and love, it is time to call the Great Gathering."

 

* * * * *

 

Village of Thaald

Domain of Thrwud

Krue Territory

 

"Balteth, come quickly!"

 

The village elder looked up from his supper and gave the young woman who had stumbled into his hut a curious look. "How many times have I told you, Elyssi, not to interrupt me when I am trying to eat?"

 

Elyssi started to stammer something, but was interrupted. "I am an old man, there are few pleasures left to me. Eating is one of those things."

 

"B-b-but," she protested, "we are being invaded!"

 

"Nonsense, girl!" he said with a snort of derision that sent a few crumbs of his spiced bread flying across the squat wooden table he was seated at. "We are not at war, there is nobody to invade us." He loved the girl more than anything else in this world, but he was also hungry. Elyssi had been but an infant when her parents, both warriors, had been killed in battle. He had taken her in as part of a debt he owed to them and had never regretted it. The young woman had always been there to care for him as he grew older and weaker. Though her help was invaluable, she sometimes drove him crazy with her easily excitable demeanor.

 

At that moment, a loud, deep battle horn echoed from the small patch of farmland that surrounded the village of Thaald. Such horns were only reserved for warriors and were not meant for anyone else. Balteth ignored Elyssi's stammering as he rushed out of his hut with all available speed and gazed out to the horizon where the sun was just beginning to set.

 

Sure enough, as the girl had said, there was indeed a host of warriors marching toward the village. It was not a patrol force passing through on their way to the border because they were not on hasuan and there were too many. This was a large force numbering in the thousands and consisting of both riders and warriors on foot. The Krue did not use foot soldiers for patrols, only for invasion.

 

"Whose colors are flying?" he demanded. His vision wasn't all too good these days.

 

"Uhhh, they are flying red on black with blue stripes," she said nervously.

 

"Larossi," he said angrily.

 

"Why would they come here?"

 

Balteth mumbled to himself before returning to his hut. He came out moments later carrying a small satchel that had what was left of his supper in it. Though he was old, he was not stupid. He knew there was only one reason why Lord Maveris would march on Thwrudi territory.

 

In a kind, soothing voice, he spoke to the young woman, "Listen to me, Elyssi. You are to take Neill and ride as swiftly as you can to Thrwud." Neill was his hasuan, an old and foul tempered beast as ever was given breath by the Spirits, but one that would get her away and to safety. "When you are there, you will tell Lord Syler that Maveris has invaded."

 

Elyssi, as sweet and innocent as she was, began to grasp what was happening and began to whimper and protest. "No," he said as he put the satchel over her shoulders and began steering her to the stables where Neill was kept. "You have been good to me, but the time is here for you to move on."

 

"But, I don't want to leave you," she cried in protest.

 

He sighed and held her at arm's length so he could look at her face one last time. "You must." There was now screaming and sounds of scattered fighting from the edge of the village. "Someone has to tell our lord what is happening. If the Spirits favor us, he will meet Lord Maveris with our army and punish him for this transgression."

 

"Come with me!"

 

"No, I would only slow you down. My place is here, in Thaald. I have lived her all of my fifty-nine summers and I will not abandon her even in her destruction."

 

Tears flowed freely down Elyssi's face and she cried out his name even as he urged her onto Neill's back. "Carry her swift and true, old friend," he whispered to the beast. He gave Elyssi one last look and said, "May the Spirits guide your path, Elyssi." Before she could protest further, he gave Neill a firm slap in the hindquarters and the hasuan was off.

 

As soon as she was out of sight, the old man walked numbly into the street. Blood flowed and fire burned as the warriors of Clan Larossi pillaged their way through the unprotected village. Thaald was small and had only a few constables to keep the peace. They were no match for an army and knew it. Despite that, they were Krue, they would not surrender nor would they give up. Those who could fought and a few managed to kill one or two of the invaders, but there was no escape for any who remained in the village.

 

Balteth was not afraid of death. He had lived his years first as a proud warrior, then as a respected elder. His only concern in life was now riding to safety. He had a few ideas as to why Lord Maveris would invade Thrwudi lands, but it didn't matter. Their new lord was not just any lord, but the Magic Master. He would make the arrogant Larossi pay for the blood spilt here today. Balteth's only regret was that he wasn't going to be around to march into battle alongside Lord Syler and his armies.

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Well done Travis. I'm looking forward to getting some solid action.

 

Great post, and it was nice to see some completely different perspectives again. It would also appear that Zerlans wife has the same gift as Bronwyn.

 

I love the way you've described the beginnings of war too, very realistically with a simple village invasion.

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Well done Travis. I'm looking forward to getting some solid action.

And you shall get it in Chapter 36 (it will be almost entirely fighting).

 

It would also appear that Zerlans wife has the same gift as Bronwyn.

Yes, she is indeed a seer. In truth, she was supposed to be Syler's seer from the start after Bronwyn's death. Fortunately (or was it???), that was forestalled by Syler's rather extreme actions in appealing her death sentence.

 

 

Ready the troops, summon forth the Rohirrim! Oh man, I am stoked about this, even if it is pretty much a teaser to the bigger show coming up at the end of the book.

 

 

 

* * * * *

 

Lord's Longhouse

Thwrud

Krue Territory

 

The sound of laughter rang out from the gathered mass of minor nobles and warriors that were feasting with their lord and lady. It was a commemorative feast to celebrate the commissioning of the first non-Krue infantry gorthat, or company, and all were in a good mood, even the naysayers. It had taken four months of work to find, train, and equip the six hundred refugee immigrants and get them to military readiness. It definitely helped that many had already been at least Sei militia and some had even been in the regular army. Most of them were Sei, but there was a good number of Kuti and even some Sua and Kosh among their ranks. There was always going to be some disagreements between the races, but they were grateful to have freedom and the ability to fight back against the Easterners.

 

Captain Fredis, a Sua, was sitting next to Syler's throne enjoying a hearty slab of meat cut straight from a massive boar that was slowly rotating below the hovering ball of fire in the center of the hall. As the captain of the company, he felt the burden of proving their worth to their dubious Kruish comrades more than any. He had led an entire battalion of near three thousand men in the armies of the Sua and though he had been defeated during the Angvardi invasion, he had acquitted himself well and managed to retain the loyalty of most of his surviving men. After their king's surrender, he had refused to bow down to his conquerors and went rogue with a hundred and twenty of his men. They had wandered the northern wilderness while constantly harassed by Angvardi cavalry until they had at last been forced to brave the Krue. Instead of being attacked or turned away, they were allowed to pass and ordered to go to Thwrud. Fredis arrived at Syler's door with eighty of his surviving men and immediately volunteered to join the new company.

 

Now, after all of their hard work, the company had proven itself ready for activation by gaining the approval of Captain Delmonor, Syler's military commander. To celebrate, they were all given a feast. The men had converted the champion's arena where Syler had killed Lord Avenil into a series of large tents to host their own feast while the officers and select Thrwudil nobility had been allowed to join Syler in the longhouse. The feast was good and everyone, even Karusa, seemed to be having a good time.

 

Vekla and Lamastus, both clad in their war attire of armor and, in Vekla's case, war paint, had arrived together. Bronwyn gently grabbed Syler's hand and gave him a small grin while gesturing at Lamastus with her chin. Syler didn't see what she had noticed until the Angvardi got closer. Though it was hard to see, there was a small blue smudge on his jaw just below his left ear. He smiled knowingly at both of them and was pleased to see the normally dour sorceress share it.

 

Havert was having the time of his life listening to tales of battle in a language that he could actually understand. So often, he found it hard to find Kruish warriors both willing to tell of their exploits and able to speak the Common Tongue. With the jubilant atmosphere, everything seemed to be going so well in Thwrud.

 

Until the doors opened and let the cold air in.

 

Few noticed the young woman as she stumbled into the longhouse, but Syler's eyes were immediately glued onto her figure. The guards at the door were more concerned with the festive mood than their posts and had just assumed it was a late arrival to the party. The woman didn't make it three steps before collapsing onto the wooden floor.

 

As soon as she hit the ground, Syler stood in alarm and shouted for quiet. It took several seconds for the room to quiet down and by that time, the guards had noticed the woman lying at their feet and had moved to first make sure she wasn't armed, then to help her up. "Bring her to me," Syler commanded.

 

The crowd parted to let the woman and the two guards through. Captain Fredis quickly vacated his seat next to Syler and helped her onto it. When she had been seated and warm furs had been draped around her thin frame, Syler asked, "Who are you?"

 

The woman looked at him with terror and incomprehension, so Bronwyn quickly assured her that everything was okay and translated what Syler had asked.

 

The entire hall remained silent as they listened to the exchange. When it was over and Elyssi had told of the Larossi invasion, Syler sat back in his throne and let out a heavy sigh. All eyes were on him as they waited for his orders.

 

Syler glanced over at his side and was grateful to see Delmonor ready for whatever was needed. "Delmonor, my friend," Syler said in a quiet voice, "how many warriors do we have ready to march out at this moment?"

 

The captain didn't need to pause to think, but immediately responded, "We have a rethothat of infantry, plus Captain Fredis' gorthat that can be summoned in an hour. On top of that, we have two gorthati of mounted warriors. I can get twice that many in two days."

 

"My men are ready to fight, my lord," Fredis stated boldly and received a nod from Delmonor.

 

Syler spent a few seconds to do the math and calculate how many men that actually was. A rethothat was what the Krue called their battalions, but he knew that their numbers were smaller than the Sei's. In their infantry battalions, the Krue had only around twenty-four hundred men instead of three thousand. They had an additional six hundred of Fredis' men, many of whom were not battle tested. To further exasperate matters, their cavalry consisted of only two gorthati, or companies consisting of around four hundred each. "Thirty-eight hundred men," he muttered to himself. He didn't like how few they had, especially since they didn't know how many they were facing.

 

Syler looked over at his wife and saw that she was just as angry as he was about this. He didn't want to go to war, not right now and especially not against another Krue, but he had no choice. He couldn't ignore this even if Maveris was content in merely razing Thaald and had no intention of driving straight to Thwrud. She nodded at him in agreement at what she knew he had to do.

 

He stood up resolutely and said in a clear, firm voice. "If Lord Maveris wishes to do battle, then I will answer him. Captain Delmonor, send forth riders on the swiftest of mounts to all corners of the domain and to our sworn allies. Summon all the war horns that have pledged to our support and have them march to support us. I will personally take the army and attempt to stall Maveris for as long as we can. I want every available man here who can wield a sword or ride a hasuan to take up arms and join us in battle. Until I return, Lady Bronwyn speaks in my name. Any who fail to follow her commands will personally answer to me when I return. Make haste, the army marches east within the hour!"

 

The gathered men needed no more incentive and immediately burst into action. Officers poured out of the longhouse and sprinted to the arena where the new company was feasting. Horns shattered the evening with their piercing wails that summoned the standing army to readiness and warned others to prepare.

 

Syler stood firm and resolute with both jaw and fist clenched tightly as the others vacated the area. At last, when all of the warriors and nobles had departed, he sat down and let out the breath he had been holding for far too long.

 

Vekla and Lamastus remained waiting for orders. Since he was not formally part of the Thwrudil army, Lamastus didn't have anywhere to be until Syler told him. "Lamastus, you stick with me. Your knowledge of tactics is much greater than my own, so I want you near on hand."

 

He gave him a cocky smile and a casual salute, "Of course." He glanced briefly at Bronwyn, "Don't worry, my lady, I will keep him out of trouble. I am not nearly so noble as to elect for a suicide charge. I won't let him do anything stupid like getting himself killed."

 

"Don't return without him then," she replied coldly enough that the Angvardi wasn't quite sure if she was joking. With a slightly nervous chuckle, he started for the door to collect his extra weapons and mount up.

"Vekla," said Syler, "I need you to do something for me."

 

The sorceress brushed a black strand of hair from her face and replied, "I will prepare myself for casting a spell shield."

 

"No, you won't be joining us in battle immediately."

 

Vekla's eyes flared in both surprise and anger before dying down as she remembered her place. "What do you mean?" she said as calmly as she could.

 

"One sorceress isn't going to win this battle. I have mages to help hold the onslaught off, but I am going to need an offensive player, one more powerful than you alone."

 

Her eyes narrowed and she frowned. "You mean Hambren Sor, do you not?"

 

Syler nodded. "Last I heard, he was at home in Jangtant. Lord Telveel has not yet declared himself for or against me and I think it is time we had our answer one way or another. Take a few men and go to him and inform him of our situation. If Telveel can be convinced to throw his support behind us, it will provide much needed reinforcements. Even if he doesn't, Wizard Sor has pledged himself to me and should return with you. Having a war wizard of his skill on our side would be worth the effort."

 

"I do not like the thought of you going to battle without me."

 

"I know, but I am the Majiyae Oretezu so you must do what I think needs to be done. We need reinforcements and this is our best chance to get them in time."

 

Vekla didn't smile, but she did clasp her fist to her shoulder and left at a brisk walk. That left just Syler, Bronwyn, and the girl Elyssi in the longhouse. Elyssi had shuffled a bit down the table and was eating whatever she could find sometimes without even chewing much less tasting it. Syler left her for the moment and turned his attention to his wife as he stood back up.

 

She embraced him tightly and held on. She whispered into his ear, "I want to go with you, but I know that I will just be a distraction."

 

"Believe me," he whispered back, "I wish you could come with me, but I need someone to remain here and keep order. You speak their language and are a seer, so they will respect that. If they don't heed your orders, have them all killed so that next time I am away, they will fear you as well."

 

She pulled back and looked into his eyes with disbelief. When she saw that he was being deadly serious, a small shudder swept down her back. "You are serious, aren't you?"

 

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "I won't have you in danger because people here refuse to follow you in my absence. Your word is the same as mine when I am gone and I wouldn't tolerate disobedience while I am here, not while we are at war. Mercy and friendliness are good in the appropriate time and place, but this isn't it. This is a time when people must do as they are told without questioning or hesitating. It isn't just about you or I, but about all of the officers and elders. If someone refuses to follow one of us in a trivial matter, what is to stop them from following their officers in battle when it counts?"

 

Bronwyn's chin dropped to her collarbone, but she understood. This might be the moment she feared would come when Syler stopped being the sweet, caring man she had first met and became a leader who was capable of making the harsh decisions that were necessary. Part of her knew that this had to come and was proud of him for making the step, but she would miss the innocence he once had before he had been forced to kill and had leadership thrust upon his shoulders.

 

With gentle pressure, Syler lifted her chin so that he could see her face once more. "I am sorry, but this is what everyone seems to want me to be so I am going to have to become it. I can't afford to be weak, not in the face of invasion. I should have done something about Maveris before, but my naivety stayed my hand. Never again will I allow an enemy to escape my grasp."

 

"Stay safe, Syler," she whispered. "There are a lot of prophecies about you, but that doesn't mean they are true or that you will be in good health if they are."

 

"I have my Skryia armor and am immune to magic," he said to assure her. "I won't be an easy target to take down even without Avenil's wisdom buried somewhere in my brain. I have practiced every day accessing that and don't think it will fail me in the field."

 

"That won't stop you from being captured," she pointed out.

 

"Do you really think Lamastus is going to let any fool Krue capture me? Sometimes, he frightens me just by standing there, and I know he is my friend and I trust him with my life. Pity the Larossi who get within range of his sword."

 

Bronwyn didn't even crack a smile. "I will pray continuously to the Spirits and the Elements for your sake."

 

More horns sounded outside and they could hear the sound of booted feet marching down the street to the eastern edge of town. Knowing that his time was short, Syler wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Bronwyn snaked her hands through his hair and held onto him until he finally broke their kiss off and stepped back. "It is time, I need to get ready and join the men."

 

He started toward the door and noticed Elyssi still eating everything she could and paying them no heed. "Bronwyn, please take care of her. She has been through enough already and I won't see her suffer for want of food and shelter."

 

"I will," she said through tears. "Syler." She waited until he turned around to look at her before finishing, "I love you."

 

"I love you too," he said and stepped through the door.

 

Outside, it was organized chaos. Hasuan were everywhere and men were scrambling to stay from underfoot. Weapons glistened in the torchlight and whispered goodbyes could be heard. Those that weren't donning armor and grabbing weapons were loading packs and wagons with food, blankets, and whatever else could be spared for the men. Despite the call having only gone out fifteen minutes ago, there were hundreds of men in full armor making their way to their arranged rally points so they could join their companies. Syler noted that, if anything, the Krue were extremely efficient when it came to preparing for war, it was in their blood.

 

Syler made it as far as his doorway when he was blocked by a rather angry looking Havert complete with a scowl on his face. His oldest friend was in his full armor, but was also carrying Syler's black Skryia armor. "You were going to leave me, weren't you?" he demanded as angry as Syler had ever heard him.

 

"Havert, I—"

 

"Too bad, I am coming. I ain't some wide eyed supplicant who hangs on ya every word. I can't believe you was going to go off to war and leavin' me! I may not have gone with you to get Karusa, but that was a mistake. I shouldn'ta left you to your own means, it nearly got ya killed. This time, Alltis is threatened and so is our baby so I have ta go out and fight. I won't stand for it and am gonna join you to beat these tagrols straight back to their mommies!"

 

Syler crossed his arms and waited until Havert had to take a breath before trying again. "Havert, I was coming here to get you, not tell you to stay behind. I am going to need you in this. My only concern was that you wouldn't leave Alltis."

 

Havert already had his mouth open to continue his rant when he froze and his cheeks flared red. He closed his mouth, opened it, paused, then closed it again. At last, he managed to say, "Oh."

 

"I am glad you are ready and have my armor, but next time, let me speak before you blow up at me." Despite those words, there was no anger in his voice. If anything, Syler was amused and was glad to see that their time here hadn't changed his friend too much.

 

"Well then," Havert said as he handed Syler's gear over, "off to war… again. Hopefully this will turn out better than last time."

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Okay, I had hoped that this would dive straight into battle, but I just couldn't throw everyone in to a fight without at least some buildup and preparation. I could have either done it as a background description or had some dialogue. I decided to give Havert a chance to be useful and threw in some dialogue. I promise, the next part will go straight into fighting.

 

__________________

 

 

Chapter 36

 

More Krue have died at the hands of their fellow Krue than by the efforts of all the lesser races combined.

 

— author unknown, statement not contested by the Krue

 

Thattos, 14 miles east of Thwrud

Domain of Thrwud

Krue Territory

 

"They still have thirty thousand warriors," reported Delmonor. "At least six thousand of them are mounted despite our best efforts to cripple their hasuan. My lord, we simply don't have enough men."

 

It had been six days since they set out and four since they had encountered the Larossi army. It had not taken long to find Lord Maveris and his army because he had not even made an attempt to hide. Instead, he had been marching his army boldly straight toward Thwrud stopping only to burn and pillage whatever farmsteads of villages in his path. The two armies had been skirmishing each other two, sometimes three times a day, but there was nothing that Syler's army could do to stop him.

 

Since they had engaged the Larossi, Syler's forces had lost over five hundred men with another three hundred wounded and yet only managed to inflict just slightly higher losses on their foe. Despite that, his force had now grown to just under eight thousand as reinforcements from the surrounding Thwrudil territory had trickled in. Three hundred mounted warriors had arrived from neighboring Krasto with promises of two thousand more infantry, but they hadn't arrived yet. Most of Syler's allies were doing their part in shouldering the burden of border patrol and had their best warriors deployed far away from where they could help. Maveris had chosen his time well when he and his allies were at their strongest.

 

To make matters worse, it wasn't just Maveris and his Larossi that were attacking him. Just as Syler had allies, so also did Maveris. Over half of his forces were not even Larossi, but were made up of armies from his allies like the Gantl and the Moerisi. He was so confident was he in his victory that there had been no offers to negotiate and no terms demanded. Maveris wanted only to destroy his foe and claim his lands to be divided among himself and his allies.

 

"Maybe not," answered Syler, "but we cannot give up. I for one have no intention of dying and giving him the satisfaction. We just need to hold out for more reinforcements." The hastily erected tent they were in did little to hold out the cold, but it did provide some cover from the snows that had began to drop in earnest two days ago. Syler, Delmonor, Havert, and several of his captains and lieutenants were huddled under it looking at the most detailed map they had of the area not far outside of Thwrud. Lamastus was out with the skirmish line attempting to bottle up Maveris' raiding parties.

 

"We are at full strength, my lord," Delmonor said. "There just aren't any more gorthati left. We have too many out on the borders escorting in refugees."

 

"So this is my fault…" mumbled Syler to himself.

 

Havert was quick to add, "No, you was just doin' what you had ta do."

 

"He is right," said Delmonor. "Even with those out on patrol, we would have been outnumbered by double. Lord Maveris caught us by surprise with his treachery."

 

"That is no excuse," said Syler as he pounded his gauntleted fist on the wooden table with a resounding thud. "I cannot stand this game any longer. We aren't doing anything to slow him down by pecking at him. All that has done is drain our men away. We need to make a stand before Thwrud is at our backs."

 

The other officers looked at each other uneasily. The subject of a direct attack had not been one that they had been looking forward to due to their numbers. Maveris had almost as many cavalry as they had total warriors. If they engaged him directly, he could just have his cavalry circled around and fully encompass their forces and annihilate them to the last man.

 

As Syler studied the map, he once again cursed the flat ground that most of the Subeleth Woods covered. He yearned for the hills and ravines and cliffs of his native land where he could find a fortified location from which to fight. Here in the woods and scattered patches of farmland, there was nothing but flatness everywhere.

 

"If we can't use the land to funnel them in, we have to do it by some other means," he said to himself. "Their cavalry is what is going to kill us, that is what we must deal with first."

 

"I agree," said Captain Fredis. "You Krue may be superior on the backs of your hasuan, but I am going to bet that us foreigners with our heavy armor will be able to handle ourselves against the Kruish infantry as long as we aren't overwhelmed and surrounded."

 

"You are slow in your armor and your men were farmers and merchants last season," Delmonor shot back angrily.

 

"Not all of them," returned Fredis with equal ire. "And at least we know how to fight without a giant horned horse to do most of the work for us."

 

Syler rolled his eyes and slammed his fist on the table again. "That is enough! If you want to fight, kill some Larossi." When nobody else said anything, he continued, "Now, about the cavalry, can we get a pike wall set up somewhere to help funnel them in?"

 

"Pikes are hardly effective against hasuan," said Delmonor. "Your kind have tried them before and they don't work."

 

Syler had figured that, but he wasn't satisfied. "Yes, it has been tried on open grounds where there is plenty of room to see them and maneuver, but not in the forest where visibility is much less and the trees limit mobility."

 

"The Krue do not always fight in the plains. We fight more frequently among ourselves and pikes are near useless. Cavalry is the largest factor in battles because they tear apart infantry. You have never seen what hundreds of enraged hasuan do in clustered infantry formations."

 

"How do they avoid them? Pike walls are frequently effective against horse charges, what makes the hasuan so much better other than their size and their horn?"

 

Delmonor thought for a second before answering. "Hasuan are smarter. Unlike your horse beasts, they act more independently and of their own accord. When they see pikes in front of them, they either stop or use their horn to deflect them just as you or I would with a sword."

 

"Okay, so then we are going to need to have some way to surprise them so they don't have time to react."

 

Havert hesitantly began to raise his hand before realizing where he was. "Umm, why not build a turnpike?"

 

The others looked at him while waiting for him to finish, but it was Syler who spoke up. "What do you mean?"

 

"Well," Havert said as he began to sweat in nervousness, "once, when I was a travelin' to drop off a shipment, I went to Kasas Sei. There, they had the strangest contraption I ever sawl called a 'turnpike.' It was a road that cut through the middle of the city but it was barred off with sharpened wooden pikes. Those city folk made people pay just ta use the road because it were faster or somethin'. They had ropes tied to tha pikes at each entrance that they would use to rise and lower the pikes when people paid. Why can't we do that 'cept we raise em up when the Larossi get there?"

 

While Delmonor and the other officers were considering that, Syler's mind was racing. He had heard of those before as well even if he hadn't ever seen them before in person. It was a good start, but it needed something else. The Larossi would suspect something if all of their infantry just sat there waiting to be mowed down without even attempting to put up resistance.

 

"We will do it," he said with finality to cut off the protests from the other officers. "Put every available man into preparing pikes and get all the ropes we can, even if we have to use tunics and pants for it." He stabbed his finger along the flanks of where his army was situated just east of the collection of farmhouses and stables that made up Thattos. "Lay the pikes down along here and cover them in snow or leaves or whatever we can find. When the battle begins, we will put a triple row of infantry behind them. Two rows will have spears and pikes and whatever else we can come up with. They are the distraction, the cover so that the Larossi don't suspect anything. The third will be crouched behind them with swords and axes. That third row will pull the ropes up on the pikes just before the cavalry reaches them and, if the Elements are with us, it will surprise both hasuan and rider enough that they can't react well. Then, the two rows of pikes will wade in and try to sow confusion among the enemy.

 

"Our cavalry will remain in the rear ready to move in and counter any cavalry force that breaks through the flanks. Captain Fredis, your men are the heaviest armored and armed, they will form the vanguard and take the brunt of the enemy infantry attack. You say that they are able to handle it, we will see. Lieutenant Pastal, you will holding the left wing, Lieutenant Gombel, the right. I want Delmonor in reserve with a gorthat ready to plug any breaches."

 

"But my lord—" Delmonor began.

 

"I know it is risky, but I will not fight a battle with Thwrud at our backs. We need to make a stand now because the odds aren't getting any better. Every day means more of our land is destroyed and we have less room to maneuver. Thwrud is not built to be a fortress, if we can't stop Maveris before he gets there, many will die. Even if the city is evacuated, it is almost all made of wood and will burn to the ground. Its loss would devastate this domain and severely weaken us at a time when we need to be our strongest. Havert's idea is a good one. It may not hold them for long, but it may give them pause."

 

The Krue sighed and muttered something in Kruish. "I know this. It has been done before to my memory with some success, but it isn't widely known and certainly not expected of us. My worry is that after the initial surprise, they will recover and go around to completely surround us."

 

Syler nodded, "It is a chance we have to take. No matter what we do, we will have to make a stand and take that risk. The only way to avoid that is to just flee and that is something I will not do. We make our stand here, for better or worse. We are outnumbered, I know, but that won't change. We can retreat no farther so we will make our stand here and let the Elements decide our fate."

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Ah, finally caught up! You appear to have been writing up a storm!

 

It's great to go back to Syler and everyone. I do wonder, though, at one little thing: if it's been several months (something that I didn't really feel from the text, which you might want to address), then why haven't Syler and the others started to learn Krue? You'd think as the new lord of Thrwud, Syler would at least make an effort to learn it. He shouldn't always have to be working through translators if this is his new home. Just something that struck me as strange.

 

A few grammar things, from the three sections I read:

 

Syler noted that, if anything, the Krue were extremely efficient when it came to preparing for war, it was in their blood.

 

Run-on sentence. War, period, it. Or it can be a semicolon instead of period.

 

The two armies had been skirmishing each other two, sometimes three times a day, but there was nothing that Syler's army could do to stop him.

 

To me, this is missing a word. I think it should be 'two, or sometimes three times'. Otherwise it feels too colloquial.

 

You say that they are able to handle it, we will see.

 

Another run-on--the comma should be a semicolon.

 

Thwrud is not built to be a fortress, if we can't stop Maveris before he gets there, many will die.

 

Your third run-on. The comma after 'fortress' should be either a period or semicolon.

 

Looking forward to what happens next!

amipaint2.jpg

SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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if it's been several months (something that I didn't really feel from the text, which you might want to address), then why haven't Syler and the others started to learn Krue?

He has been. Remember when he greeted Zareln in his estate, he tried using it. Still, three months is not very long to learn a language entirely and, especially in important things like battle strategies, it is best to have use the Common Tongue so nothing is lost. Also, if you look closely, Syler does, on occasion, use Kruish words depending on who he is talking to. Over time, he will continue to use more and more until the point that he becomes semi-fluent and I have entire sections that would be entirely in translated Kruish (like the part between Zareln and his wife). Havert, though, is a different story. He may learn a few words, but he will never master the language. Lamastus, well, he is a different story altogether and refuses to speak any Kruish even if he understands it.

 

Anyway, I fixed up all of the errors you pointed out.

 

I would also like to note that I rearranged a few things from the previous section. Havert was put with the reserves instead of Delmonor. Delmonor was left to command the overall battle as he knows more of tactics than Syler.

 

 

 

 

Okay, to the battle itself. This turned into a massive, massive chapter pushing over 7000 words if you include the intro sentence. This section alone is almost 5100 words long or the size of an average chapter (bigger than the last few which have been small). I went all out with what will probably be a confusing series of maneuvers and attacks. Some of that is just because of the nature of battle, but I am really considering coming up with a time lapse gif to show the movement of the various companies and battalions. It is all quite clear in my head, but I understand that doesn't always equate well to paper. Let me know if you can follow things because if you can't, then I will try to go back and add more description and then provide the gif just to make sure we are all on the same page and that I actually wrote what I meant.

 

Anyway, to the battle, have fun!

 

 

___________________

 

 

The Battle of Thattos started with an exchange of magic.

 

As the Larossi allied armies marched confidently towards the village, they saw the much smaller host arrayed before them. Fearing a trap, Maveris waited until his full force was in position and his mages were at the ready. When he was confident of his position, he ordered his mages and wielders of magic to the fore to test his foe's resolve.

 

In an orchestrated show, thirty mages unleashed a fury of large fireballs that arched high above the forest's trees then came crashing down over the Thwrudil armies. Syler's mages were ready and had erected a shield over his forces so the fireballs slammed into it and spread fire over their heads. Most of the trees near Syler's army had been cut down either by the villagers long ago or just recently in order to provide wood for the tens of thousands of pikes they had hastily constructed throughout the day so they were spared the aftereffects of the firestorm.

 

The land between the armies was not so fortunate. Syler had positioned his men with the majority of them in the clearings, but with their front ranks in the forest to provide as much cover from cavalry attacks as possible. As mages from both sides began to exchange magical energy and fire in an effort to overwhelm each other's shields and slip through the cracks, the entire battlefield became a storm of flames and smoke. Tree trunks exploded from the intense heat while others were engulfed in fire that filled the land with choking smoke. It was hardly an optimal battlefield, but it would keep the Larossi forces from being able to mass or press the assault for long.

 

Syler's men had the better of it because they were mostly in the clearing. Maveris' men were forced to stay coordinated even while the trees burned above their heads. Mages on both sides attempted to alter the wind to blow the smoke into their opponents while keeping their own lines clear, but Syler's mages were no match for the numbers Maveris had.

 

Syler had to admit that he was terrified while standing in the middle of it all. He was standing four ranks back from the center of the army among Fredis' infantry. Though part of him knew that magic was no threat to him, that didn't help him from wincing as a particularly large volley of energy poured over his head. Even if the direct attack wouldn't harm him, he didn't think that he was immune to the fire that came after. His mind flashed back to the through the night march his conscript company made in their rush to Fazei. He had been in awe of the light show and had wondered what it was like for those enduring it.

 

Now he knew.

 

The worst was when a fireball managed to penetrate the shield and land in the middle of his men. Bodies vanished in an instant like they had never been there, and those were the lucky ones. Those who were on the outside of the explosion were merely burned alive in their armor despite the attempts of their comrades to help. Even in loose formation, a single fireball would kill a dozen men or more.

 

Syler didn't have to ask to know that his mages were not faring well. They were simply too outnumbered and their energies were fading rapidly. More and more fireballs landed and more of his men died. He had hoped that Maveris would be eager to attack with the bulk of his army, but it appeared that the Larossi was content to simply pound him from afar. Something had to be done to change that.

 

"Sound the horns!" he shouted at last. "Captain Fredis' company will advance onto the field!" He had to repeat himself to be heard over the roaring fire and clashing lightning bolts, but the word reached the captain and the horns began blowing.

 

Fredis ran over to where Syler was and said, "What are you doing! We can't advance against his full force!"

 

Syler pulled off his helmet and leaned forward so he could be heard without screaming. "I know, but we can't stay here, either. If we do, Maveris is going to pound us to death before we even get a chance to fire a single arrow or land a blow. We have to goad him out and attacking with a company of kalklata will definitely anger him. He hates foreigners, so it will be an insult to him, an insult possibly large enough to get him to commit his forces."

 

Fredis grimaced and shook his head. "You had better be right about this because once we are out there, we will be completely on our own."

 

"That is why I am going with you. I am not going to send men to do what I won't."

 

"Pardon my frankness, my lord, but you are insane!"

 

"Yes, I am. Now, let's get moving before someone else decides to try to talk some sense into me."

 

Fredis shook his head and motioned through the smoke to the hornblowers. Horns blew and though they looked confused at the order, the men of Fredis' company dutifully tightened formation and marched forward into the inferno. Syler was at their front walking in his armor and with sword in hand and displaying bravery he didn't feel.

 

Between the resounding booms of fireballs, Syler could hear the courageous shouts of his men as they struggled against the smoke and heat. They continued to march forward for three hundred and fifty yards until the six hundred of them were out on their own and completely detached from the rest of the army. Sweat poured off of Syler's face and down his back from the fires, but he kept marching forward.

 

The two mages that were part of their company were struggling so badly to maintain their cover that they had to be all but carried by men around them. Syler felt sorry for the two Kruish men who were giving all they had to protect foreigners and the probably foolish whims of their equally foreign lord. If they survived, Syler made note to thank them personally.

 

Men were falling left and right as the mages were overwhelmed and their shields broke down. Despite their losses, they kept moving forward. Syler got within visual range of his opponent's lines and could see the seemingly endless rows of men waiting for him. When they were a hundred and fifty yards from their enemy, Syler came to a stop and glared at his foes.

 

At Fredis' command, archers formed up and began loosing arrows into the Larossi lines. Maveris' men responded with a hail of their own. Syler jerked as several arrows plinked off of his armor. His men crouched down below their heavy shields and weathered the barrage mostly intact. As soon as the first wave was over, the archers braved exposure long enough to let loose their own arrows then ducked back behind cover before the next hit.

 

Syler stood resolute in the face of it all with his sword raised and pointing at the enemy. Magic flared and arrows flew, but he ignored them all. His hands were shaking though he didn't figure anyone in Maveris' lines could see that well. He hoped that all they could see was him standing there without fear in the face of their onslaught. Lightning hit him square in the chest, but did nothing. Arrows continued to bounce off of his armor, though a few got stuck and remained sticking up at awkward angles until he broke them off and threw them to the ground with his free hand.

 

Eventually, the barrages stopped and a new, terrifying sound rang throughout the burning fields. War horns, far more than he had, sent out the call to charge and the glittering mass in front of him started forward. Maveris had blinked and was now finally committing his men to the field.

 

Syler's heart was pounding in his chest and he tightened the grip on his sword. This was the moment that he needed his men more than ever. "Steady withdraw!" he shouted. Their purpose wasn't to fight all alone, only to shame Maveris into committing his army to an attack. "Maintain formation or we are all dead!"

 

A few men broke and began fleeing back toward their own lines, but Syler ignored them. The bulk of them began taking cautious steps backward without turning their backs to their enemy. Yard by yard the five hundred remaining men worked their way back toward their own lines even as fifteen thousand men began their pursuit.

 

It was not fast enough. They wouldn't make it back to their lines before the enemy caught up with them, but they would make it far enough. When the Larossi men were just forty yards away, Syler threw up his arm and clenched his hand into a fist. As soon as he did that, he planted his feet and retreated no more. This was as far as they were going to get. They were at least out of range of the bulk of the enemy archers, but they were still two hundred yards from their own lines.

 

Fredis' men locked shields, readied spears and swords in tight formation, and prepared for the clash. Maveris' men let out a terrifying battle cry as they broke ranks and started running at their enemy. All the while, Syler remained standing in between the two groups waiting for it all.

 

Just before the Larossi could reach him, Syler closed his eyes and breathed as deeply as he could in the smoke filled battlefield. His heart slowed down and his trembling stopped as he drew upon the wisdom and experience Lord Avenil gifted him with. The world seemed to slow down and the din of the battle faded into clarity.

 

When he opened his eyes, his hands sprang into action of their own accord and blocked a spear thrust straight at his chest. Shifted his weight to the right to avoid another spear and slashed through the shaft of the first one. Blood sprayed as his sword found the unprotected throat of his first victim.

 

Syler did not know how long he fought, but it didn't matter. No matter how many he killed, there were always more to take their place. Their swords and spears and axes occasionally managed to find their way through his defense, but it didn't matter. None were strong enough to break through his armor. He found an axe in his left hand and added its blade to his original so his killing potential doubled.

He let himself focus only on the next blow, the next man trying to kill him, and the blood covered edges of his two weapons. That was all that mattered to him in that time of smoke, blood, and fire. He didn't even realize that he was fighting his way farther into the enemy lines and away from his own until he looked back and saw nothing but more men trying to kill him.

 

It was at that point that the ground began to quake. Massive, deep horns sounded and the world seemed to come apart. It took Syler a few moments to figure out what was happening, though as soon as he did, he ignored it and began fighting his way back to his own lines. There was nothing he could do about it, the fate of the battle was in other men's hands.

 

At that moment, six thousand hasuan were riding at full gallop straight for Syler's flanks. Three thousand on each side spread out in a crescent formation with the center in the front made for an impressive sight for any bird flying high above. For the men on the ground not blessed with the detachment of distance, seeing three thousand battle hungry hasuan thundering through the burning trees and hellish smoke was nothing short of terrifying. Though many trembled and shook with nerves and fear, they were Krue and the Krue were among the most battled hardened warriors in all of Teladia. The pikemen stood firm in the face of the oncoming mass, though many muttered last moment prayers to the Spirits for protection.

 

Just before the men were to be run over, a high wailing horn blew and the men on the third row stood up and pulled with all of their might and hope. The Larossi cavalry, who had until that moment been eager for the massacre before them, suddenly found themselves in a very dangerous situation.

 

Those on the front were the first to recognize the danger of the thousands upon thousands of twelve foot pikes that suddenly materialized from the snow and leaves and pointed themselves at a the precise angle to leave their spikes at chest height for a hasuan. The backs of the pikes had been nailed into a supporting beam that held anywhere from five to ten pikes. That beam had in turn been fixed to the ground by spikes pounded into the ground. The ropes had been tied to one or two of the pikes at the center so that when pulled, they would pop up.

 

Fairly few of the hasuan were actually killed by the pikes, but that was irrelevant because the suddenness of the surprise was sufficient to force the front ranks to stop. It was the forward momentum of the beasts in the middle and the rear that caused the most damage as they slammed into the ones in front of them. In the confusion, the Thwrudil warriors charged and began stabbing at the survivors. The chaos had blunted the cavalry charge and slowed them down enough for the archers and mages to turn their focus on those in the rear. Speed was the cavalry's best advantage and as soon as that was foiled, they became little more than a crowded mass of targets.

 

The Larossi officers immediately knew what was happening and began sounding the retreat. Their only hope was to regroup and ride around the pike line so they could strike the vulnerable archers and infantry on the flanks. Their cries were mostly drowned out by the screams of both men and hasuan as the arrows and fire fell upon them. Even then, the Kruish warriors were not stupid. Cavalry was the safest when they were moving or in the middle of an enemy formation. If they weren't moving or mingled in with enemy soldiers, they became little more than massive targets for the enemy, especially considering the size of their mounts.

 

Both groups of Larossi cavalry pulled back from the enemy lines and struggled to control their mounts. The hasuan had tasted blood and wanted to kill, but had generally been denied that. It was rare for a hasuan charge to be halted without at least cutting through some of the enemy lines. Often, it was wiser to continue going even through thick pikes and suffer the casualties so the beasts could let out their anger and bloodlust before withdrawing.

 

While the Larossi cavalry were regrouping, Captain Delmonor ordered all but two hundred of the Thwrudil cavalry to sweep around the right and attack the Larossi infantry's flank. The twelve hundred hasuan weren't nearly as fierce a sight as the earlier Larossi charge, but they proved to be far more effective. The hastily erected pike shield put up by the Larossi was barely effective in slowing the charge down and many of the infantry were run down or gorged by the hasuan's horn.

 

Despite their success, the cavalry had been given strict orders to make only one pass through the rear of the enemy lines and then circle around to the relative safety of their own forces. They couldn't risk being trapped by the Larossi cavalry or the reserves that were quickly advancing onto the field. The main body managed to escape, but more than two hundred were either killed outright or had their mounts killed beneath them and were quickly swallowed up by the enemy horde. Despite those losses, they had managed to cut down well over a thousand of the enemy and left the Larossi's left flank in disarray thus providing relief for the Thwrudil infantry.

 

Syler could not see any of that because he was busy fighting for his life in the center of the maelstrom. He had managed to fight his way back to Captain Fredis' company, but that provided only a slight break as they were besieged by thousands of Larossi forces. To Syler's relief, two of the other Thwrudil companies had advanced up to prevent the company from being entirely overrun, but that still left them at the point of a "V" and under attack from three sides.

 

Slowly, yard by yard, the company was being driven back. Their shields, heavy armor, and tight formation helped them shrug off wave after wave of Larossi attacks, but each man that fell left a gap that was becoming increasingly difficult to fill. Their only true relief was that the enemy mages had stopped launching fireballs after them for fear of hitting their own men. Maveris was clearly expecting his vastly superior numbers to destroy his enemy and was willing to allow his infantry time to break Syler's lines.

 

Syler himself was nearly spent. His entire body was covered in sweat, blood, and gore from the fighting and was battered and bruised from being hit by enemy blows. One Larossi had managed to hit him square in the back with some sort of war hammer or mace and though it didn't penetrate, the impact drove the wind out of him and made it hard to breathe deeply. His hands and arms were trembling once more, though it was from exhaustion rather than fear.

 

The fighting seemed to go on for hours as his men continued to batter away never ending waves of enemy warriors. The formation was beginning to look more like a shallow "U" as the center was driven back. Men were beginning to fall not from enemy arrows or swords, but from overheating and exhaustion. The smoke and heat were stifling and Syler feared the entire line was about to collapse.

 

War horns rang out across the battlefield once more and the newly reformed Larossi cavalry struck out again. This time, they circled around the main line of pikes and smashed into the Thwrudil flanks. Delmonor had foreseen this maneuver, but there had been too little time to build and position enough of Havert's turnpikes to protect them. What few they had put in place did not noticeably slow the charge down and the pikemen suffered the same fate as the Larossi infantry had earlier.

 

It didn't take long for the Thwrudil pikes to be completely overwhelmed. Before they could be completely destroyed and while the Larossi were still slowed down to fight, Delmonor sent in all of his cavalry. Six hundred hasuan, some of them still bleeding from the earlier charge, slammed into each of the flanks at full speed. Before they did, Delmonor ordered their remaining mages to unleash a flurry of fireballs into the almost completely unprotected cavalry. The two moves all but assured that whatever pikemen had survived the initial Larossi attack were lost, but it was the only thing he could do to give his cavalry a chance at turning back the cavalry and saving the rest of the army. If the Larossi cavalry managed to get behind the Thwrudil lines, the battle was over.

 

Back in the center, things were growing desperate. Hoping to stave off a full out collapse of his line, Syler ordered the Fredis' battered company to retreat as rapidly as possible in between Larossi waves. The two companies on their flanks tried to cover them, but they were too busy fending off attacks of their own. Unlike Fredis' company, they were more lightly armored Krue and didn't share the advantage that the foreigners had in close combat.

 

A weak sounding blast of war horns told Syler that Delmonor was committing most or all of his infantry reserve to shore up the center, but it was not going to be enough. The entire center was falling back in on itself. They had already passed the point where they had started and yet were not able to stop. There were just too many Larossi coming against them.

 

Syler's nose told him something was changing before his ears or eyes registered it. Throughout most of the battle, he had smelled mostly blood and smoke, but now he smelled something different. He was not able to identify what it was until after he had slashed open the stomach of the Larossi warrior he was fighting.

 

It was the smell of rain.

 

Under his helmet, he frowned. It had been snowing over the night, but that had stopped hours before the battle. The weather had been slightly below freezing, though the infernos raging along the battlefield had made the entire place much warmer. He quickly pushed that thought aside and focused on the next warrior that was trying to kill him.

 

A deep, rumbling thunder shook the battlefield. Lightning from mages didn't create nearly the energy to make a sound like that, so it could only mean one thing: rain. Sure enough, moments later a torrential downpour covered the battlefield.

 

Or rather, more accurately, the Thwrudil portion of the battlefield.

 

The rain offered almost immediate relief to the overheated and exhausted Thwrudil warriors and started dousing the fires along their lines. Their Larossi enemies were not so fortunate for not a drop fell upon any land their forces held. Only one thing could accomplish such a thing and as soon as he realized what it was, Syler's heart soared.

 

Seconds after the downpour began, war horns rang from all sides. Unlike the deep, intimidating horns favored by the Larossi and their allies, these were higher and trilled with the promise of relief and salvation. A new and massive barrage of fireballs shot out in concert from the unburned forest all around them and converged upon not the vulnerable Larossi infantry in the center, but upon the rear of their lines where their mages were. Some of the Larossi mages managed to raise shields up in time, but many were consumed in the surprise attack. With their mage force crippled, the Larossi shields began to collapse so when the fireballs began to fall upon their infantry, there was little to stop them. Where, there had been twelve thousand warriors pressing forward against the enemy, now there was a burning inferno of intense heat and extreme suffering. Hundreds fell as their leather armor and skin burned off and the air was burned out of their lungs.

 

The thunder of hooves could barely be heard over the horns as wave after wave of hasuan bearing the green on gold banners of Clan Jangtant or the white on red colors of Clan Nangoru stormed onto the battlefield and straight into the Larossi's unprotected reserves.

 

The reserves, mostly light infantry and archers, shattered against the might of two thousand blood thirsty hasuan slamming into them from each side. In just seconds, a thousand men had vanished into a flurry of hooves, lances, blood, and broken bodies and the slaughter continued.

 

A new volley of horns announced the arrival of infantry battalions coming to the relief of the beleaguered Thwrudil forces. As the allied infantry marched forward, the rain advanced with them to protect them from the fires that were ravaging their enemies. Two battalions of Nangoru infantry joined the fight on the right flank while two battalions of Jangtant infantry advanced on the left. Another battalion and a half of infantry from various other allied clans advanced at double speed from the forest to come up behind the Thwrudil lines and bolster their flagging forces.

 

Despite the sudden arrival of over thirteen thousand fresh infantry and four thousand cavalry, the Larossi and their allies were not giving up. They still outnumbered their foes on the field, though their position was poor and their situation was rapidly deteriorating.

 

The Larossi cavalry found themselves suddenly surrounded and beat a hasty retreat to avoid being completely enveloped. They were forced to disengage from the Thwrudil cavalry and then brave a hail of arrows from the reinforcements before they could gallop across the burning battlefields back to their own reserves. Once there, the survivors were forced to then contend with the outnumbered though fresh and still organized cavalry that had been ravaging those reserves with near wild abandon. The Larossi's left flank managed to fare better and was able to bring fifteen hundred tired and bloodied hasuan to bear, but their right flank collapsed into chaos and most found themselves driven to the center of the field between their main forces and the reserves. There, they were pummeled by mage fire and were all but destroyed.

The Larossi infantry, despite their heavy losses, managed to pull into battle formation along their flanks and met their enemy's reinforcements with spears and swords rather than fleeing. Once the two forces clashed, the fire from the mages drastically decreased and were focused mainly on crushing the surviving cavalry that had once been the Larossi right flank.

 

Though he was invigorated by the reinforcements, Syler's energy reserves were almost gone. He could barely lift his sword to block or parry and each blow against his armor hurt more than the last. Fredis' company had endured the worst of the battle and could bear no more. They held together long enough for reinforcements to arrive, but after that, Fredis ordered a general withdraw and they hobbled to safety leaving four hundred of their comrades lying on the field.

 

Syler wanted to go with them, but he suddenly found himself in a predicament of his own. Though they might not know exactly who he was, the Larossi could tell he was a man of importance due to his unique armor. As the others retreated, one ambitious sergeant saw an opportunity to capture an enemy officer and took action. His men fell upon him without regard for their lives and managed to strip away Syler's sword and drag him to the muddy ground. When they had him, those nearby let out a great cheer.

 

That cheer quickly died out when they saw who was marching up with thousands of fresh warriors at her back. Clad in her gold lined black armor, decorated in her black and blue war paint, and with her braids flying behind her, Vekla was fearsome enough without the look of sheer fury and hatred that made her face harder than steel. Even Syler, when he saw her, was terrified because he had never seen her display such raw power and emotion, even during the time when they had been ambushed in Sua Tles.

 

The Larossi proudly displayed their captive for Vekla to see, but that did not save them. Normally, that action would give rescuers pause and either force them to withdraw or negotiate, but not so with Syler. Not when his rescuer was a very, very angry sorceress with a lot of pent up rage and power.

 

Vekla did not hesitate in her response. Sparks arced between her fingers as she began shouting out a spell in a language that was definitely not Kruish. She brought her hands up in front of her and the lightning began crackling all around her. When she clapped her hands together, dozens of white hot bolts of energy shot out over a wide arc all around Syler.

 

The air was filled with cries of men as their chests or heads exploded from the energy. Smoking bodies fell all around Syler in a twenty yard radius and the rest began to flee. Despite the carnage, Vekla wasn't finished. She waved her hands over her head and fire began to swirl above her. When she had formed a magnificently large cloud of molten fire, she swept her hands in front of her and it sprayed out in an unquenchable inferno that quite literally melted row after row of Larossi warriors even as they tried to flee her wrath.

 

Thirty seconds after she began, Vekla stood in front of a gaping crowd of friendly warriors with hundreds of bodies smoldering in front of her. The only Larossi left were the four men holding onto Syler, sharing his immunity to magic. Vekla cleared a few wet braids from her face and stared at those four with eyes that had gone completely orange. Even the whites of her eyes were now a burning orange that matched the intensity of the fire she had just unleashed. Syler was taken aback as he had never seen her eyes change color.

 

If he was surprised, his captors were petrified. They released him and fell to their knees in surrender. Without a second thought, Vekla lazily pointed her fingers at the four and shot smaller—but still lethal—energy through their skulls. As quick as that, Syler was free and the center of the Larossi line was broken. Vekla raised her fists and pushed them forward to signal to the troops behind her to charge in, but she remained standing there staring at a stunned Syler as the men rushed past her.

 

Syler slowly hobbled his way up to the sorceress and gasped, "Vekla, that was—"

 

He was cut off by a flash of her still orange eyes. In a voice colder than the coldest of winter nights, she said through clenched teeth, "You are not to put yourself in danger like this ever again. Next time, I will not save you from your foolishness." Without giving him the chance to respond, she stalked past him and joined the others in their pursuit of the retreating Larossi.

 

Even if he had wanted to, Syler was in no condition to follow. He was beaten and exhausted to the point that even standing now took an effort. He wasn't able to pay attention to the rest of the battle, but focused on getting back to his own lines. At some point, a bloodied Havert found him and gave him a shoulder to lean on while he chattered away at how the well the battle was going. By the time they made it back to where the wounded were gathering, Syler could no longer keep his eyes open and collapsed in a heap of black armor.

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Few minor errors...

 

When he opened his eyes, his hands sprang into action of their own accord and blocked a spear thrust straight at his chest. Shifted his weight to the right to avoid another

 

The bolded bit needs a bit of editing.

 

But otherwise, thoroughly enjoyable. The strategy seems sound by both armies, and the various tactics were also quite effective. I was able to picture it in my head easily enough, but if you feel like making a gif of it, I'm not going to say no

 

I think your numbers were good, and the arrival of the "Rohirrim" to save the day was very effectively done. Vekla showed some incredible power, and I look forward to seeing more of that.

Member of Jnet Addict Club 12/05

Order of the Nocturnal

thunderpie.png

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Fixed in the master document, too tired to fix it here.

 

I have spent the better part of, well, probably five or so hours working on this thing. It is incredibly tedious and required a lot of reading of the "source material." All of it was done by hand through GIMP in what was probably far, far too much work compared to if I had a better program like Photoshop. Alas it is done and while not fancy, it does the job I think.

 

EDIT: here is the better, improved version with text.

http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b310/Darth_Trivas/BattleofThattoswithText.gif

Edited by Guest
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Nice! Good writing! I agree with Brendo that I followed it pretty well. The GIF was great--it showed that the image in my mind was indeed what you were trying to get across. Nice work.

amipaint2.jpg

SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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