Orthalen's Doom ( ver. 2.0)
By Boss Hoss
Orhtalen sighed in relief and sank down to the cushions of the Governor's throne. Thinking out loud after he cleared the council chamber, he rubbed his temples thoughtfully "Ah yes, I've done it! I have the power in Valdemar now! Lord and Lady! It feels damn good! No more sucking up to that brainless trollop. No more interruptions to my slavery business. No more being a 'mere' Lord. AND NO MORE OF THOSE DAMN HERALDS!" He gloated over the map, and the plans he so carefully worked to fruition with the help of those damn Imperial agents. Ah well, the price of tribute was a small one to be recognized as leader of the country, even if he was Imperial Governor. Privately, he was still KING! All those bureaucrats, soldiers, and flunkies they sent were already making things smoother for him to hold the people in an iron grip. There were still rebels hiding in the Forest of Sorrows, and the Pelagirs, but he believed the Imperial troops would find them soon. On the other hand, those traitorous Lake Evindim fishermen never had a chance to hold the lake once his pirates got through with them. Then again, he could never have gotten so far if he hadn't finally exterminated that Talia bitch and her trained horse. Those Cold Blade assassins were expensive but worth every penny compared to all the previous attempts. Even the whisper campaign to demoralize and wreck her had failed.
Once she was gone, there was no opposition to marrying Princess Elsepeth to Prince, now King, Ancar. Pity she willed herself to death after Ancar killed her Companion when Elsepeth tried to escape on her.
He still had trouble believing how hard it was to kill off every Herald; even then it was an uphill battle until he was at last convinced the Companions were more than merely well trained Shin'a'in style horses. He still could not be sure he had killed all of those damn beasts, for all the unchosen ran away before he came for them, and seemed to be hiding in the Sorrows. Vastly outnumbered, they presented little threat, especially with any of them shot on sight or driven back into the woods.
He chuckled as he thought of how he led Selenay and all council members opposing him into the marriage feast and left the Hardorn Royal Hall feigning travel sickness. A candlemark later, only Elsepeth remained of the current Royal Valdemar blood. Sadly, his own nephew tried to be a hero. Never mind, plenty of time to extract his pound of flesh from Ancar. The loony bastard was still sending assassins after him anyway so why not? If he timed it right, the Hardornans might welcome him as governor-king as well. .Assuming the Empire does not assassinate the madman first.
After that "tragedy", his agents worked ambush after ambush, in greater and greater numbers until the Heralds fingered him as the suspect. When that happened, it was open war, with the backing of Ancar and a Battalion of Imperials. He would have asked Karse for aid, but they tended to be grabby about any territory they would capture even as allies.
Oh, He had some surprises for their next attempt at invading Valdemar, such as the Imperial Magi, more powerful than those phony priests by working as one, that are finally breaking down some kind of barrier to magic in Valdemar. Oh yes! Those liars and conmen will burn in their own temples!
There was truly nothing left to curb his ambitions and he was as drunk from it as if he had downed a barrel of Golden Griffon Ale! As he felt ready to explode from sheer joy, the room seemed to flip sideways and left him sprawled on the floor. It wasn't the room, it. He realized it was an enormous burst of magic. -Magic that was still raging nearby, toward Companion's Field.
He staggered to the door as an officer was running in search of him. He had never seen an Imperial soldier look so shaken. "Governor! Our guards! Th- those things!" To his horror, the hysteria was beginning to spread to him, so he used his Gift of convincing people of anything to calm the annoying twit down. "Please! Just calm down and tell me what is going on, Lieutenant." The officer's eyes glazed a bit as he calmed down. "Yes sir. A group of guards saw a black-haired Herald in the halls, calm as you please, with a Companion and a young man. They were challenged, but a wooden table exploded into life, becoming leafy spears to kill three guards. They swear they can see through the three, they are ghosts, I tell you! He- he then walked through the walls to the pastures outside! Now.. Well, you have to see yourself, Sire!" Quickly, the officer led him to the balcony, where they looked out onto the misty pastures of Companion's field. Behind him, his generals and commanding Magi were entering the chambers in near panic. To his horror, the Sacred Grove was lit up bright as day, with a shaft of blue energy reaching to the sky. ..And coming from the grove. COMPANIONS! Hundreds of Them!
Already, his troops were pouring from the barracks that had been the Collegum to meet them, but horrifyingly, bursts of TrueMagic or Mindmagic were stopping the soldiers, usually fatally.
One knot of men burst into flame as a companion stared at them. For some reason, the name "Griffon" popped into his head. Another Companion pair grinned at that stallion and created a dragon made of flame seemingly to show off as he incinerated a platoon. Other soldiers were having fatal parts of their bodies 'Fetched' by companions or levitated at high speed into immovable objects. Swords and spears were jerked from soldiers hands, flying to impale their nearest shieldbrothers. Some men screamed and curled up in fetal positions, their minds shattered by Mindmagic, others were crushed, twisted by invisible walls of force. Still more were being blasted by Mage lightning and Leven bolts. Numbly, he noted the Companions were all working in pairs, their hides actually glowing from the energy they were using to such grim, deadly effect.
Finally, the Companions stopped arriving, and a moment later, his Adept Mage tugged his sleeve. "By the Hundred Little Gods! We used a counting spell Sire, and we think there are over ten thousand Companions! Our Mage teams are fighting, but they keep hitting a shield put up by all of those things together! -We're dropping like flies! Mages shouldn't have to face this!"
Orthalen paled as an uncomfortable thought crossed his mind that he desperately shut out. ..Fighting in pairs, as if.. No! -Ridiculous! Impossible!
Adept Porthos mopped cold sweat from his brow "We recommend you evacuate to the Imperial Capitol with us while we can! Our Tactical Mageteams are giving their lives to buy us time."
Nodding quickly, he hurried with them to the lower levels, to the Permagate set up in the Great Hall. As the shimmering hole in the air came into view, the entire castle shook, sending them to the floor. The Adept choked "Little Gods! NO!" as a transparent man, unnaturally handsome with silver streaked raven hair, stepped between them. The Mages holding the portal screamed and died from Magelightning at point-blank range. Vanyel grinned wickedly as the Gate collapsed, then bowed mockingly and vanished while Governor Orthalen turned deathly pale in fear.
Orhtalen wasn't sure what was shaking more, him or the castle. Every few seconds, another shock would send pieces of plaster and stone from the ceiling. Each shock was closer, and stronger, like the source was now inside the Palace. His personal guard and his officers stood ready in a circle around him, yet each looked like men who accounted themselves dead already. The enormous metal-bound double doors were already barred and braced enough to hold off human warriors for hours. Unnervingly, the doors were notoriously soundproof, yet they could hear an echoing rumble, like thunder, for it rang through the walls and floors itself. It became a cacophony of bells being struck on wooden and stone flooring, only pausing for each shock rocking the building. His men shuddered, for the clatter could not drown out the sounds of men screaming and dying after each shock.
Now the rolling thunder of bells was outside the door. Porthos worked frantically to raise multiple shields before trying a Gate.
Suddenly, everyone froze in shock as a voice rang in their heads. ORTHALEN! YOUR TIME HAS COME!
Porthos gave a squeak of horror and lost his concentration, losing the pattern of the Gatespell in a swirl of sparks. Before he could do anything more, the doors exploded inward in a shower of jagged iron and oak, decapitating a man instantly. Orthalen backed up to the throne as huge white shapes poured into the room, the elegant wood parquet flooring instantly scarred by supernaturally tough hooves. Porthos tried to cast a spell, but burst into roaring flames, doused in a moment to leave a greasy pile of ash on the floor. Men raised swords only to die by Gift and hoof. Only two guards cowering in surrender lived.
Orhtalen shivered and cowered back, seemingly trying to back through the throne itself. Numbly, he noted that seeing them up close, he saw they were indeed fighting in pairs, but only one of each pair wielded Mindmagic offensively. He considered the secret passage behind the throne, but knew where it led was already taken by these white demons.
Slowly, methodically, the Companions closed in. Their eyes nearly glowing, yet their gazes were cold as a sea of ice as they ringed him, shoulder to shoulder, even behind the throne. Apparently, room had been made there for the presence of the Monarch's Companion before.
One Companion pair nosed forward. Somehow, he recognized one as Caryo. * That's impossible! I saw Selenay's mare die in person under barbed whips! Does that mean..? NO-! *
The other Companion mare moved with an all too familiar air of command. Moaning, he looked down, afraid to meet their accusing stares. Her nose flipped under his chin, to make him meet her eyes. He looked into an endless pit of blue, like a tunnel cut through ice, like a great wave boring in on him. She stared at, into, and through him like examining a most loathsome bug.
A voice rang in his head, filled with cold anger and contempt You are sitting in my seat! I will thank you to remove yourself from it. NOW!
Shakily, he rose, warm liquid running down his legs as he faced the mare. "S-selenay?!.." A hint of a smile appeared on her muzzle I have returned, "Lord" Orthallen. I was given a choice in the face of the extinction of Valdemar, of Companions. We ALL were. The reality of the situation finally hit him like a mountain. ALL of the Heralds were back in more powerful bodies.
He started babbling and pleading before Selenay struck the first blow. In moments, he had been kicked, bitten and dragged to pieces by the assembled Companions. The last blows grinding his remains into the flooring were shared by Selenay and Talia.
=+=+=+=+=+=+=
Queen Selenay sat on her haunches beside the throne, with Talia behind and to one side as dawn peeked through the stained glass windows. Their own Companions stood off to the side, looking on in pride as Selenay presided over the gathering of Companion pairs. Their prisoners had hastily cleaned all the remains from the room. Havens, this room has never seemed so small, even in my Coronation ceremony. Talia whicker-chuckled audibly Well, we are quite imposing in this form, your majesty. Selenay smiled wryly I know, scamp! This room held thrice as many people as there are Companions in here now. It still seemed cavernous then. Yet another thing to get used to. They were interrupted when Dirk trotted up beside Talia, and rubbed noses with her before turning to Selenay. We've routed or destroyed the last of the troops within Haven itself with the help of the citizens. Haven is now a free city again! We expect to leave this evening to relieve the rebels, nonchosen, and newly chosen Companions in the Sorrows. After that, on to Hardorn! With that, the hall was filled with ecstatic neighing by the few dozen present. As the cheering died down, there was a stirring in the crowd. Respectfully, the herd parted for several spectral forms. Breathtakingly elven in appearance, Herald-Mage Vanyel bowed respectfully to his descendant. Pardon me, I believe the Sorrows are my watch. I do not know what use I can be outside its bounds there, for I have spent most of my reserves in opening the path for all of you, and the combat. We will still fight.
To this, Selenay, smiled mysteriously, as did Talia's Roland. ..Then join us fully, Honored ancestor.
Vanyel's spirit grunted in surprise, clutching the spectral mane of his Companion, Yfandes, for support. His Lifemate, Stephan/Tylendel gasped and reached for Vanyel as he too felt dizzy. The three ghosts began to glow with power. The two humans swelling, lengthening, their features seeming to melt and run together like swirling mist. The misty spirits grew more distinct, more opaque, suddenly striking the floor on solid hooves with a bell-like sound.
Roland's ears twitched in amusement while they looked over their new flesh and blood Companion bodies. Now you can channel all the power you need anywhere.
The three companions snuggled in mixed surprise and joy. Vanyel sighed with a rueful grin Admittedly, some things wont be possible without hands anymore. Stephan whickered evilly as he nosed Vanyel's flank Oh, I dunno Van, I think this can work out.
Selenay chuckled with the rest and asked teasingly Isn't there someone missing, you two? As they looked up in confusion, a new Companion emerged from the crowd, stopping before Stephan. He looked up into sapphire eyes that held him entranced while a long absent touch of love washed over him. He was Chosen again. 'Lendel, I forgive you! It was as much my fault for ignoring the signs of madness I felt from our link, no matter how tightly shielded you were. He sank to his foreknees as tears streamed from his blue eyes Gala!? Oh, Gala! She curved her neck around his as she cried as well. Oh Love, I. Wait, do I call you 'Lendel or Steph? He nuzzled her ears I don't care as long as you call to me at all. I'm so sorry for what I did as 'Lendel. She nickered sweetly Then let it be said I Repudated Tylendel, and came back for Stephan. Thank you love.
Selenay nickered serenely as she watched the touching reunion. She was glad, for she had need of them whole in spirit in the coming days, especially when they free the slaves and invade Hardorn, and finally, the Empire. It was so ironic to her that Valdemar was founded by a kingdom fleeing the Empire. Further, that agents of said Empire would try to destroy Valdemar from within, ignorant of the nation's origin.
We have come full circle, and now the Empire reaps the dragon's teeth it has sown in arrogance and ignorance. Even Heralds and Companions that had chosen to go to the Havens instead of rebirth, .and there were a lot of them after 1300 years, .chose to leave the Havens at this opportunity to crush their ancestral enemy. Now, over 10,000 Companions stood poised to roll over Hardorn, break off a thousand to guard the Karse border with Vanyel in charge, then proceed to crush the Imperials and destroy the Iron Throne, with King Valdemar at the forefront.
The Chronicles would forever record Orthallen's Doom as the first day of the Second Age of Valdemar, the Reign of the Companions.
By Boss Hoss
Orhtalen sighed in relief and sank down to the cushions of the Governor's throne. Thinking out loud after he cleared the council chamber, he rubbed his temples thoughtfully "Ah yes, I've done it! I have the power in Valdemar now! Lord and Lady! It feels damn good! No more sucking up to that brainless trollop. No more interruptions to my slavery business. No more being a 'mere' Lord. AND NO MORE OF THOSE DAMN HERALDS!" He gloated over the map, and the plans he so carefully worked to fruition with the help of those damn Imperial agents. Ah well, the price of tribute was a small one to be recognized as leader of the country, even if he was Imperial Governor. Privately, he was still KING! All those bureaucrats, soldiers, and flunkies they sent were already making things smoother for him to hold the people in an iron grip. There were still rebels hiding in the Forest of Sorrows, and the Pelagirs, but he believed the Imperial troops would find them soon. On the other hand, those traitorous Lake Evindim fishermen never had a chance to hold the lake once his pirates got through with them. Then again, he could never have gotten so far if he hadn't finally exterminated that Talia bitch and her trained horse. Those Cold Blade assassins were expensive but worth every penny compared to all the previous attempts. Even the whisper campaign to demoralize and wreck her had failed.
Once she was gone, there was no opposition to marrying Princess Elsepeth to Prince, now King, Ancar. Pity she willed herself to death after Ancar killed her Companion when Elsepeth tried to escape on her.
He still had trouble believing how hard it was to kill off every Herald; even then it was an uphill battle until he was at last convinced the Companions were more than merely well trained Shin'a'in style horses. He still could not be sure he had killed all of those damn beasts, for all the unchosen ran away before he came for them, and seemed to be hiding in the Sorrows. Vastly outnumbered, they presented little threat, especially with any of them shot on sight or driven back into the woods.
He chuckled as he thought of how he led Selenay and all council members opposing him into the marriage feast and left the Hardorn Royal Hall feigning travel sickness. A candlemark later, only Elsepeth remained of the current Royal Valdemar blood. Sadly, his own nephew tried to be a hero. Never mind, plenty of time to extract his pound of flesh from Ancar. The loony bastard was still sending assassins after him anyway so why not? If he timed it right, the Hardornans might welcome him as governor-king as well. .Assuming the Empire does not assassinate the madman first.
After that "tragedy", his agents worked ambush after ambush, in greater and greater numbers until the Heralds fingered him as the suspect. When that happened, it was open war, with the backing of Ancar and a Battalion of Imperials. He would have asked Karse for aid, but they tended to be grabby about any territory they would capture even as allies.
Oh, He had some surprises for their next attempt at invading Valdemar, such as the Imperial Magi, more powerful than those phony priests by working as one, that are finally breaking down some kind of barrier to magic in Valdemar. Oh yes! Those liars and conmen will burn in their own temples!
There was truly nothing left to curb his ambitions and he was as drunk from it as if he had downed a barrel of Golden Griffon Ale! As he felt ready to explode from sheer joy, the room seemed to flip sideways and left him sprawled on the floor. It wasn't the room, it. He realized it was an enormous burst of magic. -Magic that was still raging nearby, toward Companion's Field.
He staggered to the door as an officer was running in search of him. He had never seen an Imperial soldier look so shaken. "Governor! Our guards! Th- those things!" To his horror, the hysteria was beginning to spread to him, so he used his Gift of convincing people of anything to calm the annoying twit down. "Please! Just calm down and tell me what is going on, Lieutenant." The officer's eyes glazed a bit as he calmed down. "Yes sir. A group of guards saw a black-haired Herald in the halls, calm as you please, with a Companion and a young man. They were challenged, but a wooden table exploded into life, becoming leafy spears to kill three guards. They swear they can see through the three, they are ghosts, I tell you! He- he then walked through the walls to the pastures outside! Now.. Well, you have to see yourself, Sire!" Quickly, the officer led him to the balcony, where they looked out onto the misty pastures of Companion's field. Behind him, his generals and commanding Magi were entering the chambers in near panic. To his horror, the Sacred Grove was lit up bright as day, with a shaft of blue energy reaching to the sky. ..And coming from the grove. COMPANIONS! Hundreds of Them!
Already, his troops were pouring from the barracks that had been the Collegum to meet them, but horrifyingly, bursts of TrueMagic or Mindmagic were stopping the soldiers, usually fatally.
One knot of men burst into flame as a companion stared at them. For some reason, the name "Griffon" popped into his head. Another Companion pair grinned at that stallion and created a dragon made of flame seemingly to show off as he incinerated a platoon. Other soldiers were having fatal parts of their bodies 'Fetched' by companions or levitated at high speed into immovable objects. Swords and spears were jerked from soldiers hands, flying to impale their nearest shieldbrothers. Some men screamed and curled up in fetal positions, their minds shattered by Mindmagic, others were crushed, twisted by invisible walls of force. Still more were being blasted by Mage lightning and Leven bolts. Numbly, he noted the Companions were all working in pairs, their hides actually glowing from the energy they were using to such grim, deadly effect.
Finally, the Companions stopped arriving, and a moment later, his Adept Mage tugged his sleeve. "By the Hundred Little Gods! We used a counting spell Sire, and we think there are over ten thousand Companions! Our Mage teams are fighting, but they keep hitting a shield put up by all of those things together! -We're dropping like flies! Mages shouldn't have to face this!"
Orthalen paled as an uncomfortable thought crossed his mind that he desperately shut out. ..Fighting in pairs, as if.. No! -Ridiculous! Impossible!
Adept Porthos mopped cold sweat from his brow "We recommend you evacuate to the Imperial Capitol with us while we can! Our Tactical Mageteams are giving their lives to buy us time."
Nodding quickly, he hurried with them to the lower levels, to the Permagate set up in the Great Hall. As the shimmering hole in the air came into view, the entire castle shook, sending them to the floor. The Adept choked "Little Gods! NO!" as a transparent man, unnaturally handsome with silver streaked raven hair, stepped between them. The Mages holding the portal screamed and died from Magelightning at point-blank range. Vanyel grinned wickedly as the Gate collapsed, then bowed mockingly and vanished while Governor Orthalen turned deathly pale in fear.
Orhtalen wasn't sure what was shaking more, him or the castle. Every few seconds, another shock would send pieces of plaster and stone from the ceiling. Each shock was closer, and stronger, like the source was now inside the Palace. His personal guard and his officers stood ready in a circle around him, yet each looked like men who accounted themselves dead already. The enormous metal-bound double doors were already barred and braced enough to hold off human warriors for hours. Unnervingly, the doors were notoriously soundproof, yet they could hear an echoing rumble, like thunder, for it rang through the walls and floors itself. It became a cacophony of bells being struck on wooden and stone flooring, only pausing for each shock rocking the building. His men shuddered, for the clatter could not drown out the sounds of men screaming and dying after each shock.
Now the rolling thunder of bells was outside the door. Porthos worked frantically to raise multiple shields before trying a Gate.
Suddenly, everyone froze in shock as a voice rang in their heads. ORTHALEN! YOUR TIME HAS COME!
Porthos gave a squeak of horror and lost his concentration, losing the pattern of the Gatespell in a swirl of sparks. Before he could do anything more, the doors exploded inward in a shower of jagged iron and oak, decapitating a man instantly. Orthalen backed up to the throne as huge white shapes poured into the room, the elegant wood parquet flooring instantly scarred by supernaturally tough hooves. Porthos tried to cast a spell, but burst into roaring flames, doused in a moment to leave a greasy pile of ash on the floor. Men raised swords only to die by Gift and hoof. Only two guards cowering in surrender lived.
Orhtalen shivered and cowered back, seemingly trying to back through the throne itself. Numbly, he noted that seeing them up close, he saw they were indeed fighting in pairs, but only one of each pair wielded Mindmagic offensively. He considered the secret passage behind the throne, but knew where it led was already taken by these white demons.
Slowly, methodically, the Companions closed in. Their eyes nearly glowing, yet their gazes were cold as a sea of ice as they ringed him, shoulder to shoulder, even behind the throne. Apparently, room had been made there for the presence of the Monarch's Companion before.
One Companion pair nosed forward. Somehow, he recognized one as Caryo. * That's impossible! I saw Selenay's mare die in person under barbed whips! Does that mean..? NO-! *
The other Companion mare moved with an all too familiar air of command. Moaning, he looked down, afraid to meet their accusing stares. Her nose flipped under his chin, to make him meet her eyes. He looked into an endless pit of blue, like a tunnel cut through ice, like a great wave boring in on him. She stared at, into, and through him like examining a most loathsome bug.
A voice rang in his head, filled with cold anger and contempt You are sitting in my seat! I will thank you to remove yourself from it. NOW!
Shakily, he rose, warm liquid running down his legs as he faced the mare. "S-selenay?!.." A hint of a smile appeared on her muzzle I have returned, "Lord" Orthallen. I was given a choice in the face of the extinction of Valdemar, of Companions. We ALL were. The reality of the situation finally hit him like a mountain. ALL of the Heralds were back in more powerful bodies.
He started babbling and pleading before Selenay struck the first blow. In moments, he had been kicked, bitten and dragged to pieces by the assembled Companions. The last blows grinding his remains into the flooring were shared by Selenay and Talia.
=+=+=+=+=+=+=
Queen Selenay sat on her haunches beside the throne, with Talia behind and to one side as dawn peeked through the stained glass windows. Their own Companions stood off to the side, looking on in pride as Selenay presided over the gathering of Companion pairs. Their prisoners had hastily cleaned all the remains from the room. Havens, this room has never seemed so small, even in my Coronation ceremony. Talia whicker-chuckled audibly Well, we are quite imposing in this form, your majesty. Selenay smiled wryly I know, scamp! This room held thrice as many people as there are Companions in here now. It still seemed cavernous then. Yet another thing to get used to. They were interrupted when Dirk trotted up beside Talia, and rubbed noses with her before turning to Selenay. We've routed or destroyed the last of the troops within Haven itself with the help of the citizens. Haven is now a free city again! We expect to leave this evening to relieve the rebels, nonchosen, and newly chosen Companions in the Sorrows. After that, on to Hardorn! With that, the hall was filled with ecstatic neighing by the few dozen present. As the cheering died down, there was a stirring in the crowd. Respectfully, the herd parted for several spectral forms. Breathtakingly elven in appearance, Herald-Mage Vanyel bowed respectfully to his descendant. Pardon me, I believe the Sorrows are my watch. I do not know what use I can be outside its bounds there, for I have spent most of my reserves in opening the path for all of you, and the combat. We will still fight.
To this, Selenay, smiled mysteriously, as did Talia's Roland. ..Then join us fully, Honored ancestor.
Vanyel's spirit grunted in surprise, clutching the spectral mane of his Companion, Yfandes, for support. His Lifemate, Stephan/Tylendel gasped and reached for Vanyel as he too felt dizzy. The three ghosts began to glow with power. The two humans swelling, lengthening, their features seeming to melt and run together like swirling mist. The misty spirits grew more distinct, more opaque, suddenly striking the floor on solid hooves with a bell-like sound.
Roland's ears twitched in amusement while they looked over their new flesh and blood Companion bodies. Now you can channel all the power you need anywhere.
The three companions snuggled in mixed surprise and joy. Vanyel sighed with a rueful grin Admittedly, some things wont be possible without hands anymore. Stephan whickered evilly as he nosed Vanyel's flank Oh, I dunno Van, I think this can work out.
Selenay chuckled with the rest and asked teasingly Isn't there someone missing, you two? As they looked up in confusion, a new Companion emerged from the crowd, stopping before Stephan. He looked up into sapphire eyes that held him entranced while a long absent touch of love washed over him. He was Chosen again. 'Lendel, I forgive you! It was as much my fault for ignoring the signs of madness I felt from our link, no matter how tightly shielded you were. He sank to his foreknees as tears streamed from his blue eyes Gala!? Oh, Gala! She curved her neck around his as she cried as well. Oh Love, I. Wait, do I call you 'Lendel or Steph? He nuzzled her ears I don't care as long as you call to me at all. I'm so sorry for what I did as 'Lendel. She nickered sweetly Then let it be said I Repudated Tylendel, and came back for Stephan. Thank you love.
Selenay nickered serenely as she watched the touching reunion. She was glad, for she had need of them whole in spirit in the coming days, especially when they free the slaves and invade Hardorn, and finally, the Empire. It was so ironic to her that Valdemar was founded by a kingdom fleeing the Empire. Further, that agents of said Empire would try to destroy Valdemar from within, ignorant of the nation's origin.
We have come full circle, and now the Empire reaps the dragon's teeth it has sown in arrogance and ignorance. Even Heralds and Companions that had chosen to go to the Havens instead of rebirth, .and there were a lot of them after 1300 years, .chose to leave the Havens at this opportunity to crush their ancestral enemy. Now, over 10,000 Companions stood poised to roll over Hardorn, break off a thousand to guard the Karse border with Vanyel in charge, then proceed to crush the Imperials and destroy the Iron Throne, with King Valdemar at the forefront.
The Chronicles would forever record Orthallen's Doom as the first day of the Second Age of Valdemar, the Reign of the Companions.