The Parallel: The Lorkhan War
It is Last Fall, day 30. The battlefield was already strewn with the lives of many fallen heroes. Some say that these heroes were potential gods. Some say they were gods. Still others say they were the sons of gods begot by mortal women. Whatever the case may be, these god-men were now lifeless. They were mere pawns in a much higher agenda that none of them could grasp their minds around. Their limbs were cut off and their body parts in a mess all around the battlefield. In the middle of the death field, a spire like statue stood tall and untouched. Voices of war and shouts of anguish were still heard as the battle raged on.
In the ranks of this battle, Lord Indoril Nerevar, Hortator of Chimer and protector of Vvanderfell, fought with the fire of 10,000 men. This was quite literal for Nerevar's blade was the legendary Trueflame; a blade that looked so deadly that if an unfortunate victim was to get slashed by it, it could leave a festering wound, until it would overtake the victim. If that wasn't enough, Trueflame was forged from the fires of Red Mountain and it had unique properties of fire that could burn up a single existence just by the heat it gave off. Suddenly, the Hortator-King's voice rang out over the sounds of war.
"Press on my Royal Legion!"
Just as Nerevar finished his encouraging words, there was a Dewemer knight clad in silver armor ready to attack Nerevar with his silver-edged long sword. The knight started the attack with a thrust which the Nerevar easily parried. The knight then recovered just as fast and launched an overhand strike. Nerevar dodged and made an attack of his own. It was accurate and to the point. The blade bit right where the silver cuirass and greaves met and his body was engulfed in flames by Trueflame. Nerevar met his next attacker with more ferocity. Fortunately for him, it was a Dewemer apprentice mage.
"Cantamen incendium obex!" A wall of flame burst forth from the apprentice mage's hands.
"Apstergeo cantamen!" The fire spell was immediately dispelled as Nerevar cast a spell of his own. He quickly dispatched the apprentice with a quick flick of Trueflame as the blade met the apprentice's body and set the body on fire.
"Is this all the Dewemer has to offer? I'm disappointed in you, Dumac," thought Nerevar. "Why do you choose to fight against my might with such insignificant bugs?" Seeing a scout from the right flank nearby which he hadn't noticed before, yelled to him "Give me a report on the situation from the right flank."
"Lord Aranathor has fallen and his House's numbers are dwindling! What are your orders, my lord?"
"What? How is this possible? House Dres is one of the most powerful houses in all of Vvanderfell. Send House Dagoth in to reinforce the flank."
"But sir, House Dagoth has not reported to the battlefield. Surely you must have known this."
"Nadorhuanrim! Those cowards should be put to death. I shall deal with the right flank myself."
As the scout left, Nerevar gave the order to move out.
"Royal battalion of Indoril, we must secure the right flank. Let us ride out to meet the enemy! Death will be our weapon today! Gurth gothrimlye!"
my first "chapter" is just a prologue to what will come ... don't worry.. it's not what you guys think.. comments will be appreciaated :-D