Raise Thy Sword

May 2nd, 999 A.S.

Castle Laus, Lycian League, Elibe

Erik snarled as he tossed his helm to the floor, dismounting his warhorse as he did so; cursing vehemently under his breath as he summoned his captain to his side. With the loss of all of his heavy cavalry, there was no chance for Laus to win the battle with the Lycian army on the open field, Instead, with his recently fortified fortress, Erik hoped to draw the Lycian army towards his castle and negate their superior numbers as well as their cavalry. Although most commanders would press the field and attempt to sally from their castle and use the terrain to their advantage, Erik was no fool; were it any other Lycian state they were facing, such tactics may have worked for the Laus army. However, forming the backbone of the Lycian Alliance was the Pherean cavalry, easily the most dominant cavalry force in Elibe. Without the superiority of numbers, there was no hope that Laus could force Pherae from the field.

However, if they retreated into their hole, Lord Erik figured he could force the Lycian Army to attack the walls of Castle Laus. Though Erik was no fool to believe that the Laus domains would fall to an extended siege, he knew that the Lycian Army had no such time at their hands. If his messengers were to be believed, the combined forces of the other Lycian states were making a beeline for Ostia. It was understandable why the Lycian capital was their destination. In the wake of Araphen's fall and Bern's triumph, it was paramount that Ostian hegemony was established. Through the Lycian Covenant, only Ostia and Ostia alone could bestow the power of state upon itself and only in times of crisis; through this, Ostia would essentially become the state of Lycia and the Lord of Ostia would become the Lord of Lycia.

Although such actions had never been pursued before, a national emergency had occurred after a war with Etruria in the 500s. With the current state of affairs within the Lycian League, Erik had no doubts in his mind that was the reason the remnants of the Lycian Army was marching so hastily towards Ostia. With the arrival of Roy of Pherae and Paris of Thria, the two lords granted validity towards the motion of an Ostian dictatorship. Whilst Lilina of Ostia was technically enabled to enact the clause should she fit to do so, it would set the remnants of the league to unrest; however, with the arrival of two Lycian nobles at the helm of a coalition army, Ostia's decree would turn from one of tyranny to deliverance.

It was an occasion Erik hoped to avoid and with good reason: should Ostia declare itself protector of the Lycian realm, Laus would be wiped from existence. Although Erik's current dealings operated in the shadows and behind closed doors, knowledge of Laus coming to blows with the rest of Lycia would quickly become public knowledge. Such an end would destroy the Laus state as its own people would likely reject Laus in favor for personal security and likelihood of a Lycian victory. Erik's only hope was to bog the army down long enough for Narshen to take Ostia. Should Ostia fall to Narshen's forces, any opportunity for a Lycian rally would be cut down. It was imperative that Lycia bit his bait and draw itself in.

Although they were outnumbered two to one, the Laus army held all the cards in their favor; their disadvantage in numbers was negated by the walls of the castle. With the addition that most of Lycia's cavalry was rendered useless by the ditch of swords and stakes that surrounded the walls. Armed with the ability to set arrows ablaze due to the braziers atop the battlements and a vast cellar filled with rations, Laus could easily hold the defense against the Lycian enemy.

"Captain," Erik nodded towards a man with decorated armor, "raise the alarm. Set fire to the braziers. I want all of our archers atop the walls along with guards posted to ensure that the enemy does not attempt to scale them."

"Of course sire," the man saluted and jogged off, nearly bowling over the portly priest that waddled his way up to the Lycian lord.

"Milord," Asticot wheezed, "an Etrurian noble is here to see you."

Erik raised an eyebrow at this, his face not belying his inner thoughts. "An Etrurian noble? Of what sort?"

"It seems to be the son of Count Reglay, the former Mage General."

Erik's eyes widened at this, his mouth contorting upwards. "He must be here to take his sister back to Etruria...Asticot," the overweight retainer looked towards his liege lord, "that cannot happen! Stall him, entertain him, do anything!"

"Of course sir..."

Asticot dipped low before walking towards the main conference chamber, running his hands through his long black hair as he did so. As Erik watched him go, he couldn't help but feel a stone sink in his stomach as he caught a glimpse of blonde hair in the secluded chamber. He needed to think of a plan and he needed one immediately. "Rutger," the red garbed warrior looked towards him, "go fetch Lady Clarine. Report to me as soon as you are able. And do not harm her!" Erik grinned mischievously, "we must ensure she is in good condition for our tribute to Bern."

In his worries about his state, Erik did not see the fire turn alight in Rutger's eyes at those words.

Mark walked towards Roy, bowing slightly as he did so. The tactician had followed the Caelin archers across the river, leaving instructions for Paris and the Ostian Rickard to march north and cross the river before swinging the majority of the army's infantry back south. Confident in the young noble and the grizzled veteran, Mark had stood alongside Wallace on the hilltop, instructing the different attacks that cut down the Laus cavalry. After forcing Marquis Erik to a tactical retreat, Mark had rounded up the small force, cutting down any stragglers or rear guard that attempted to stall them. Establishing a perimeter around a small hill outside the range of Laus' archers, Mark summoned the company leaders to a small circle of dirt he had cleared out.

Roy was the first to reach the small circle. Raising his hand slightly in greeting, he eyed his tactician curiously. "Well met Mark. May I inquire you of something?"

"Anything, Master Roy."

"Why is it that you needed my cape?" The capeless noble inquired the tactician, who winked at him with a grin."

"It shall all be clear soon, Master Roy." He bowed before another smile appeared on his face. "Gentlemen," Mark nodded as the other warriors drew close, "congrats on your victory, however small it is in the grand scheme of this war."

"However small the victory is, it is a victory nonetheless," Marcus tugged at his beard, "we should do well to capitalize on our momentum."

"Marquis Erik has holed up within his castle however. We won't be able to force him out without a drag down fight."

Mark nodded, "indeed, Master Roy. Normally, I would entertain a different approach towards sacking Castle Laus but we have not the necessary number of men nor the time available to conduct such an assault. Therefore, I would entertain a discussion as to how this shall be accomplished."

"Shall we have the aid of Sirs Paris and Rickard?"

The master tactician drew a weaving line in the dirt with a small stick, eventually bisecting it with a tiny line drawn horizontally. Directly to the left of the smaller line, Mark drew a small x; he moved his hand further down, almost directly south from the x before making a small triangle. To the northwest of the triangle, he made a small circle before setting the stick off to the side. "The x indicates where Paris should be with his force. As you know, that consists of almost all of our infantry, with the exception of Dieck's men. And, of course, Sir Wallace." Mark nodded at the grinning general who chuckled alongside Sain. "Our force consists entirely of Dieck's men, cavalry, and archers. Coupled with Lugh, who is our sole magician, we do not pose much of a threat to Erik's men in terms of being able to outperform."

"We have a lack of versatility amongst our forces as well," Sain noted, "if he is able to isolate one section of our force, they shall be decimated...you never answered my question Mark. Will Sir Pairs come to our aid?"

"Unlikely. It is a half-day's ride to the river crossing to the north. It would take them another eight or so candlemarks for them to even be in the vicinity, let alone be able to come to our aid. And the longer we wait..."

"The longer Marquis Erik has to strengthen his position..." Roy ran his hands through his hair, adjusting his headband as he did so. The Pheraen heir had taken another five lives that day and it seemed to be weighing on him. Although a talk from Marcus had resolved his feelings on the matter, it did nothing to help his aching heart. "Would it be possible to storm the gate?"

"I would wager not. We don't have the manpower to perform such a task."

Mark nodded his agreement, "and I do not believe scaling the walls would be a smart choice either. Although some small castles and forts do not have moats or traps protecting their walls, Erik is smarter than that. I'm willing to wager that he's got something buried under that dirt around those walls."

"Additionally," Sain pointed towards the main gate of the castle, where the drawbridge covered the large metal gate that surely sat behind it, "he has a draw bridge raised. We'd have to bust through that first."

Mark looked up at this, "there's a wooden drawbridge over that gate?" When the strategist confirmed it for himself, he paused, "I cannot believe I didn't notice that...that suddenly gives us a chance."

"Eh?" Wallace loomed over the rest of the participants, "whaddya mean Mark?"

"What I mean is this...that drawbridge is right in front of where most of Erik's archers will be concentrated, correct? Now, they have a massive advantage because we cannot begin to assault the gatehouse before that bridge is down. However, I am willing to believe we can force them to lower it."

Dieck raised an eyebrow, "what do you mean?"

"We set fire to the drawbridge." He looked humored as the other men glanced at him confusedly. "You see, by setting fire to that bridge, we'll be restricting their visibility through the smoke. Those will only be the archers atop the gatehouse, although it is easily half of them, if not more. When the smoke becomes too much to see through, they'll be forced to move to other parts of the battlements. Although we will not be immune to their arrows, we will force them to temporarily halt them. That gives us much needed respite for when we inevitably charge. Now, then, they have two choices. Let the bridge burn or lower it to put out those flames. Should they let it burn, then we simply wait it out. Should they lower it, however, we will rush them with our cavalry. With enough weight on the bridge, it won't be able to be raised once more. From there, all we need to do is get through the gatehouse."

"Easier said than done. How do you expect us to get through that iron gate?"

"Well, Sain my old friend..." Mark started as he watched a pegasus fly off in the backgroudn, "I have already enacted my plan to accomplish this..."


As soon as Asticot walked through the door to the chamber, he could feel the daggers emanating from the Etrurian noble. Although the boy looked young - very young - Asticot was not daft enough to ignore nobility when he saw it. With the boy's regal looking cloak draping his figure, Asticot was impressed by the boy's noble nature. With a bow, the slimy Laus retainer looked towards his new guest, a charming smile pushing its way onto his grotesque face.

"Master Reglay. It does me great pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Asticot, head retainer and personal priest of Marquis Laus, Lord Erik." The man looked around the otherwise empty room, "I was informed that you were escorted by a retainer, milord?"

"Ah, yes. Thany. She...went to calm her pegasus." The blonde teen clapped his hands together once, "I understand that you are currently...engaged in hostilities with the rest of your country?"

Asticot nervously swallowed, "ah, yes, well...it is but a minor issue. Nothing major, simple squabbling about territorial boundaries."

"Ah, I see. Well, for the sole sake of that reason, I hope you do not mind that I...carry this, do you?" The teen drew back his cloak, revealing a sharp dagger on his waist, nestled close to a small gold pouch. "One must never be too careful..."

"Oh, I absolutely agree sire! Would you like to engage in a meal, sire? Surely, such a long voyage from Etruria must be such a tiresome affair..."

"Hm..." the boy tapped his chin, "I believe I would enjoy a fair dash of deer, should you have it?"

"Of course we do for milord! If you would patiently wait here for a moment, I shall order the chefs to prepare an exquisite meal for you!" Asticot went to exit the way he came before looking over his shoulder, "oh, and milord, please do not leave this room. With such heightened security, it would be a...tragedy should a guard believe you to be unwelcome."

Watching as Asticot left the room, the thin teen visibly sighed as he sat down, shaking slightly. Born and raised in abject poverty, Chad had never been one to put on airs nor pretend he was someone he was not. In such dire circumstances, however, he surprised himself by his ability to lie.

"Chad, you scoundrel, Father Lucius is going to give you a stern talking to when you go to Heaven..." The boy smiled to himself before laying his head on the table, trying to figure out how he could sneak to the front gate undetected.


Nestled deep in the backrooms of Castle Laus, Clarine pulled her legs in closer to her torso, the soles of her feet resting on the wooden chair she sat on. The fire in front of her crackled, casting a warmth over the room that was entirely unneeded; she had insisted that one of the servants that catered to her start the fire so she was able to watch something move and bring life to the dull room. A few candlemarks ago, a force of Laus cavaliers had set out from the castle before a diminished force returned to the castle; that was all the excitement of the day and Clarine once more returned to mindlessly staring towards the orange lapping flames.

Although her initial days within Laus were productive and filled with learning, it quickly turned into a hell on earth. Although she was treated with respect and kindness, she knew it was solely due to her position as the daughter of Pent of Reglay; she became a prisoner of this castle and was forbidden to leave her room. Unsure as to why she was restricted to the area, she summoned Lord Erik and was met with disdain and was insultingly disregarded.

Although Clarine wasn't sure why she had been forced away, she suspected it had to do with her studying of Laus' financial records. When the edict for her imprisonment came from Marquis Laus, she had been beginning to study the records of when Erik had ascended the role of marquis from his father. Although Darin's track record with finances was shrewd, there was truly nothing to praise besides the general upswing of fortunes after the Fall of Cornwell, a well documented case within Etruria. Nothing within Darin's reign suggested that Laus was able to become the financial powerhouse it was today.

That meant that Erik was surely attempting to hide his actions from Clarine. Although the bright girl was unsure as to what led to the rise of Laus' fortunes, she highly suspected he was embezzling funds from Lycian coffers or withholding tribute to Ostia. It was understandable as to why Erik would wish to hide such acts from her; after Cornwell's destruction from both within and other Lycian states, any sort of major embezzlement would result in the likely destruction of Erik. Although Laus was likely to survive such an incident, being one of the higher houses of Lycia, Erik himself would be forced to abdicate to a heir or, more likely, Ostian stewardship.

So focused in her inner thoughts, Clarine didn't notice the knocks at the door until a man coughed. Inwardly rolling her eyes, the Etrurian princess opened the door for her visitor. "Yes?"

Before her, a young man stood garbed in red. Clarine had seen him a few times throughout the castle and knew him to be a guard of Lord Erik. He regarded her coolly before closing the door behind him, answering her confused stare. "Lady Clarine, follow me. Do not make noise, do not draw attention to yourself."

As he went to turn, she stopped him with a hand of his forearm, "excuse me!? Who are you to order me around?"

"If you wish to leave this castle...you will listen to me."

"You..!" She forced herself to calm down, regarding the man with an inquisitive eye, "why are you helping me?"

"I am not in agreement with Lord Erik's plans." He looked at what little belongings she had, "grab your necessities. I have prepared two horses for our escape." He handed her a cloth bag, at which she raised her nose in disapproval.

"Ugh, a lady cannot put her things in such a disgusting bag..." Nonetheless, she went to her desk where she began to place her perfume and beauty supplies before Rutger took them from her bag and placed them back on the desk. "A lady requires her beauty supplies! You cannot expect me to leave them behind! This perfume was made using the finest fragrances Aquleia has to offer!"

"It doesn't matter if it was made using pure gold. We're not taking it."

With a face, she grabbed a change of clothes and, with a grimace, stuffed them into the small sack. Tossing her gold pouch into the bag, she hoisted the bag over her shoulder before grabbing the small staff beside her bed. "Okay. Lead me away, Sir...you never told me your name! It is very impolite to not give a noble your name!"

"Rutger. And I'm not knight." Rutger took her bag from her, tying it to a small leather strap that ran over his shoulder. "Follow me and be sure to be as quiet as possible. It will be difficult to leave this place."

With a silent nod, Clarine followed her savior. Rutger led her through the back chambers, using as many side passages as possible to avoid being seen. Although she was unaware of the fact that he was officially supposed to be bringing her to Lord Erik, he knew better than to expect compliance with any of the guards. Because of the current state of matters, heightened security was expected and anything that was out of place would be investigated. Clarine continued to follow Rutger before he led them to a room, far from where they had started.

With a nod, they entered the room wherein Clarine let out a sigh. "That is so...exciting!" At a raised eyebrow, she continued. "Just feeling like you're going to be captured! A princess and her attractive savior escaping from the evil clutches of a corrupt king! How very much like a fairytale!"

"...we need to reach the front of the castle before we leave. Apparently, your brother is here."

Clarine's head whipped around at this, her eyes widening with each second. "My brother Klein is here!? Rutger, we must go to him!"

Rutger nodded as he ventured to the back. From what Clarine could gather, this was Rutger's own personal room; sparsely furnished, the sole possession that did not exist in Clarine's own room was a sword sitting in the corner. Rutger grabbed the scabbard and attached it to his waist, nodding at Clarine once more. "Yes. We will get your brother and then exit Laus. Now, we must hurry."


Chad grinned as he shoveled more food into his mouth. Shortly after leaving, Asticot had returned with a promise that a grand meal was being prepared for the 'Son of Reglay'; as soon as the food had arrived, Chad spent no time in carving a swathe of destruction through the finely prepared boar. Although Asticot attempted to make small talk throughout the meal, the thief was rendered unable to reply by the food that was constantly being torn to pieces. Eventually, however, Chad slowed his pace and let Asticot have his piece.

"Master Klein, forgive my impudence, but what do we have the honor for your apperance on this...grave afternoon?" Asticot's beady eyes watched as what was left of the boar was removed from the table. The hefty priest had not stopped his eyes from investigating the teen that sat before him, stopping his eyes multiple times on the hems of Chad's pants. The thief did not need to look down to know that the priest was taking in his appearance.

"Well, I uh...wished to travel the countryside of Etruria and get to...know the people better." The teen gulped nervously, hoping his lie was not as blatant as it seemed. Mark hadn't briefed him on what to say in this circumstance!

"Ah, I see. What leads you so far from Etruria milord?"

This, however, he was prepared for. "I wish to see my sister." Somehow (likely from word from Steward Kent or Sir Paris) the master tactician had deduced that the daughter of Count Reglay was within Laus. It was the sole reason that Mark had decided to have Chad impersonate his son, Klein. "I understand she has been within Laus for some time now."

Asticot noticeably reddened, "ah, yes, Lady Clarine has been a most delightful guest..." He looked around nervously, "er, there wouldn't happen to be any...specific reason behind your desire to see your sister?"

Chad shook his head, "no. Simply that it has been many months since I have seen her. I was near the border of our countries and I decided to make a detour. I hope this won't be detrimental or too much to ask."

"Of course not, Master Klein." The priest bowed low, the tips of his long greasy hair nearly touching the floor; the man ran his fingers through the black locks, causing Chad to grimace at the way the man's hair shone. "Er...would you wish to be...toured around the castle before you meet your honored sister?"

"If you could instruct me where her room is, I am sure I can find the way."

"Oh, that is too much to ask! Surely you will get lost...this castle is very large..."

"I am sure I wil-"

The door opening behind Asticot startled both men. The Laus retainer spun on his heel with a lock of abject shock as Lady Clarine stepped through the door, Rutger right behind her. The door shut quietly as the scarlet swordsman shut it, staring down Asticot as he did so. The priest's mouth opened and closed as he looked at Clarine before immediately looking towards Chad.

"Er...Lady Clarine...your brother and I were just talking about meeting you..." The priest walked towards the young lady, his hands wringing together nervously.

The blonde girl blinked once or twice, looking back and forth between Chad and Rutger before she shook her head slowly. "That is...not my brother..."

All eyes turned immediately towards Chad, who stood up from his seat. The teen's eyes darted between the three other people in the room, his mouth attempting to form words and almost failing. "Shit..."

Asticot's eyes widened, his face turning a bright red. Pointing a chubby finger towards Chad, the retainer looked towards Rutger, "that boy is a Lycian spy! Rutger, murder the vermin!"

The swordsman nodded slowly. "As you say."

Withdrawing from his waist a wicked looking sword, causing the teen in front of him to pull a dagger from his belt. Without saying a word, Rutger stepped forward and lunged. The sword pierced the throat of the male, dark blood splattering over both the victim and the killer as the curved sword dripped blood onto the ornate floor. Asticot looked at Rutger in shock, his body collapsing in a heap as the man withdrew his sword. The priest, unable to form word, gargled on his own blood before life drained from his eyes, leaving nothing but a corpse, as displeasing to the eye in death as it had been in life.

Clarine looked on his horror, her eyes moving slowly from the dead man to Rutger, who looked disinterestedly towards Chad. The thief had stopped dead in his tracks, warily regarding Rutger as the swordsman raised an eyebrow at the teen. "Are you truly a Lycian spy?"

Chad looked towards the still-warm Asticot and then towards the sword in Rutger's hand before nodding slowly, "yes. Lord Roy of Pherae is my commander."

"Who is the Lycian Army fighting?"

"Laus. And Bern."

Rutger's eye flashed at this as he nodded slowly. The young man sheathed his sword, calmly regarding Chad as he did so. "Follow me then."

"Wait," Chad regarded Rutger coolly, "where are we going?"

"To the gatehouse. I take it that you were going to open the gates, yes?"


Similar to a pendulum, the fortunes and moods within Ostia could change from one extreme to the other in a half a day's time. Constantly, days were made and destroyed as men were created and ruined. Lives were made greater and lives were shattered; as it was with any major city, the people were fickle in their approval and happiness yet were constant in their desires. It was for this reason that the mood within Ostia had turned completely around from what it had been that morning. With the reappearance of their beloved Lady Lilina, the Ostian commoners' support had shifted from disapproval of Leygance to complete support.

Though the short announcement had been brief, Lilina and Leygance had lingered on Uther's Landing for a candlemark after the speech had ended. The people had showered their praises upon the lady and her loyal advisor, cheering them well into the afternoon as the crowd grew in size as news of the announcement spread throughout the street. Although the people eventually withdrew to their shops and homes, it was a great while before Ostia had finally settled into a relative quietness.

Throughout the rest of the capital, shops, homes, and taverns were ablaze in merriment as the populace discussed the announcement. Taverns and inns in particular were quite clamorous as the joyous news was shared over ale, as men fantasized about entering and winning the competition for the hand of the beautiful Lady Lilina. Women issued dreams of romanticism of how lovely it would be to have a tournament issued for their hand. Mercenaries created pacts with one another, promising to watch the other's back until the final stages of the competition.

Yet, despite all the joyousness within Ostia, there were notable pockets of dissention. In particular, the tenants of the Iron Cauldron were far from pleased with the result of the day's announcement. Although many of the leaders of the anti-Leygance coalition were not present at the event, its contents quickly made its way to the ears of one Sir Barth. In response to the news, the Ostian commander had assembled his brain trust, immediately planning their next move to counter Leygance.

After Astol's shocking news that their lord had perished at Araphen, dire straits had come unto Barth's motley alliance. With the loss of Hector and the blessing that Lilina had bestowed upon Leygance's actions meant that Barth had no legal recourse for his actions. Prior to Lilina's speech and news of Hector's death, Barth could have acted in the missing marquis' name, citing that unlawful conduct from Leygance initiated the actions against him. Now, however, with Lilina's public showing of support for the regent, there was little Barth could do to oppose him.

"Where is Matthew?" Wendy inquired, the sole missing leader amongst the anti-Leygance force. The handful of comrades had once again met within one of Zealot's rooms on the third floor, one of the many that Zealot had reserved when his mercenaries had come to Ostia. "He is the only one missing."

"I believe I saw him speaking to a woman a few moments ago outside. The man looked rather haggard."

"I am sure," Barth nodded towards the door, "that Matthew will be here. He has reasons for all that he does. Reasons that are above our right to understand."

Oujay looked up at this, "Matthew ranks above you, Sir Barth?"

"Officially, no. Unofficially, Matthew is the fourth most important person in all of Ostia. Only Lord Hector, Lady Lilina, and Sir Oswin can be considered more essential to Ostia than Matthew." Barth coughed then, "let us not speak of him, however. Our issues are far more pressing than the current chain of responsibilities."

The most experienced knight in the room nodded his head in agreement. "I concur. What we should be talking about is how we're going to stop Leygance's plot."

"Do you have any ideas, Commander?" Treck, although young, had been vouched for by Zealot as one of his most trustworthy and capable warriors. Although not as experienced as his commander was, Treck had, alongside Noah, won over the trust of Barth.

The Ilian knight tapped a finger to his chin, "is there any way we could sneak into the castle, Sir Barth?"

The mohawked Ostian paused before slowly shaking his head. "For men like you or I? No. However, it may be accomplished by other individuals."

"Who are you thinking of?"

"Matthew and Astol are well trained in the arts of concealment. Because of the fact that many of men are Ostian knights, it would be hard for any of us to get past Leygance's men. However..." Barth looked to Oujay, "Oujay may very well be able to." At the puzzled looks that were given to him, the Ostian commander continued. "You see, out of all of us, those three are the only ones who cannot be truly identified on sight. Zealot, your men and my men both carry crests upon their breasts. It would be much more difficult for them to be unnoticed inside the castle."

The mercenary commander nodded, "what you say speaks true. Your men cannot enter the castle for obvious reasons while my men are not familiar with your castle."

A series of knocks followed at the door, causing all the occupants within the room to look towards the cause; Noah stood and cracked the door open, peaking to the outside before allowing Matthew in. The master spy nodded to his fellow conspirators before sitting beside Astol. "Evening gentlemen. May I ask what we are discussing?"

"The plan, it seems, is that you and I shall take Oujay and sneak into the castle."

Matthew regarded Astol for a moment before nodding, understanding the logic behind such a decision. Time had certainly affected Ostia's spymaster as much as it had the rest of the Campaign's companions. Not nearly the warrior he had once been, the assassin still held an agility and nimbleness that evaded most men. The chosen left hand of the great Lord Hector, Matthew had fought many times in his life and had not always emerged unscathed - though he was often patched up by a certain cleric, his body carried the remainders of his youth.

"Makes sense. What of the rest of you fine folk? Surely," he grinned slightly, "you cannot expect to place the entire burden of an operation on two grandfathers and a youngster. No offense to those included in that statement," he said with a smile towards Oujay and Astol.

"Luckily for you, Matthew, we were just getting to that part." Barth crossed his arms as he looked towards his fellow Ostian. "Do you have any knowledge of how Leygance's tournament will commence?"

Matthew nodded, "from my understanding, Leygance plans to enter in five men at a time. The ten men - Leygance and his four cronies and the five newcomers - will fight nonstop until there are five men left standing. Then the process shall repeat for four candlemarks. Additionally, Leygance has apparently increased the time of the tournament from four candlemarks to six. He is going to begin at noon. The tournament is exclusively for the knightly class - only knights and nobles shall be permitted to enter."

"Six candlemarks..." Barth whispered, "Sir Zealot, do you believe you can send a stream of knights to challenge Leygance?"

"Sir Barth..." The Ilian knight looked towards his lieutenants before looking at his Ostian counterpart, "surely you must understand that I will not jeopardize my men's lives..."

"If it helps," Matthew interrupted, "Leygance specified to the arena master that the tournament is non-lethal until the final round. As in..."

"Until the final five or six men." Zealot nodded then, "very well. I shall arrange for my knights to challenge Leygance. With any such luck, he will not walk away from the field the victor."

"Wonderful news, sirs!" Matthew clapped his hands and smiled, "it is good that we are able to generate such wonderful plans!"

"What has you so chipper today?"

To the surprise of all, the Head of Intelligence smiled further, "because an old friend of mine in Caelin just revealed wonderful news."

"Sir Matthew, what is this news you speak of? And why is it so great that it has put you in such a mood in such dire straits?" The sole woman in the room spoke the minds of all by her.

"I have it on good authority - very good authority, for I have never known my friend to lie in the twenty years I have known him - that Roy of Pherae is leading the remnants of the Lycian Army to Ostia."

A stunned silence struck all the occupants in the room, sans Matthew. Some were shocked for joy whilst others were shocked at the apparently dimming light that was shining their way. It was natural that Zealot and his fellow Ilians would have no idea who Roy of Pherae was nor what exactly that entitled.

"Ostia is going to be attacked by this Roy of Pherae?"

"No, Sir Zealot," Barth shook his head, "Roy of Pherae is the only son of Marquis Pherae, Lord Eliwood. Marquis Eliwood has long been an erstwhile ally of Lord Hector, likely his greatest ally."

Matthew chimed in, "Lords Eliwood and Hector were friends for the greater parts of their lives. Master Roy and Lady Lilina, likewise, are the best of friends. If there is any remaining person on Elibe that has Lilina's best interests at heart, it is Master Roy."

"This changes everything then, does it not?" Noah spoke for the first time that evening. The naturally silent man had been occupying his time by simply listening and taking in all that had transpired. Though Noah was a ferocious warrior, he lacked a strategical mind and found himself out of place in the plots of his allies.

"Indeed it does. With Master Roy now in the picture, we could be looking at a very different outcome. With an army at his back - and you said it was the Lycian Army no less - Master Roy could very well oust Leygance."

"And with the almost definite support of Lady Lilina," Matthew added, "which he will need. For with Roy's coming, it is definite that the people will discover that Lord Hector has perished."

A small silence formed after this as the men and woman reflected on the fallen Lord of Ostia. After a few moments, however, Astol cleared his voice. "Do you know how far away the Lycian Army is?"

"Considering that my information lines were very quick in telling me that the army was just in Caelin yesterday morning, I would believe that they are within the heart of Laus at present." Matthew rubbed his aching shoulder, an irritating sign of his advancing age. "And considering that the man who is advising the army is one that I know very intimately, I can say that they have been moving at a breakneck pace."

"That means they should arrive in Laus, without any complications on..."

"The morning of the tournament," the spymaster finished for Zealot, "and just in time for them to drive out Leygance before he enacts his ploy."


Due to the territorial nature of mankind after the Scouring, kingdoms were nearly impossible to establish. Village leaders and magistrates were unwilling to give up claim to their territory to a man they had no visage of and whom they believed had no right to rule over them. Although all men within Elibe respected Roland as a warrior, few truly believed in the divine right of kingship that the hero had bestowed upon himself.

A truly good man in all sense of the word, Roland had believed himself the savior of humanity. Although his words rang a bell of truth, the self-dictated importance that the man granted himself caused many to initially dislike him as a leader. Although many within the region of Ostia were quick to crown Roland king, others outside of his immediate vicinity were not as quick to do so. It quickly became of utmost importance to Roland for him to establish claim in the regions around him. Although his temperament would slowly cool down to reveal a caring individual, the task of expanding his rule had been one in the making for some time.

Built in 12 A.S., Castle Laus had long been a dominating feature on the landscape of central Lycia. Imposing and fearsome looking, Roland himself had laid the first stone in its foundation, culminating in a five year long project that eventually resulted in a home that Roland could visit the outlying lands beyond Ostia. It was the Little Knight's first true attempt at moving his power beyond the realm of Ostia. Although Roland did not use leverage nor force against the ruled people of central Lycia, the imposing site of the castle caused a near instant loyalty to be issued to the rising king - though not all of it was out of respect but of fear as well.

It was because of this castle that men of Laus had long considered themselves to be the 'second citizens' of Lycia, a point of exceptional pride. It was said that within Ostia that men from Laus were called 'second class' due to this particular characteristic of Laus beliefs, a saying that irked Laus' people to no end. Because of Laus' unique place in history, it only furthered the rift between Ostia and, in a sense, created much of the animosity between the two Lycian states.

Naturally, Laus considered their castle to be a point of special pride. Though Castle Ostia was unanimously proclaimed to be the greatest castle ever built, the marquises of Laus took exquisite care of their magnificent birthright. Although it had once been shabby by modern standards, Castle Laus eventually grew into the intimidating force it was today, easily able to hold its own against a small army or an unprepared larger force.

And, with no small amount of foresight, a smaller force was forcing the defenders' hand.

Mark watched the gigantic drawbridge engulf itself in flames, spreading a dark black cloud over the castle. Though it was nighttime, the black smoke that drifted upwards was impossible to miss. Though it had taken quite a bit of stealth alongside an accurate placement of arrows coated in tar and grass, Lugh's fireball managed to set the entire drawbridge up in an orange blaze. Though he was nearly certain that the bridge would be lowered, he was more worried that the second half of the plan would not succeed.

"And now we hope for the best, correct?" Sain walked up beside him, leading his horse with reins in hand.

"Correct," Mark looked over towards his longtime friend, "the easy part has been accomplished. One way or another, that bridge is coming down."

"As soon as they lower it, shall we charge?"

The smaller man nodded, "yes."

The two stood in silence for a few moments, watching as the fire took away their minds to places unknown by the other. After a few moments, Sain, ever the talkative man, coughed slightly. "I am surprised you tasked such a young kid with the job."

"He's not a kid, Sain. He's as old as some of us were way back when."

The Green Lance chuckled softly, "and we were kids then too, in case you forgot."

"The seemingly youngest out of all of us was actually one of the oldest. My, our group certainly does have a knack for bucking the age trend. Nils, Ninian, Athos...who knows how old they were. And look at Wallace and Marcus. They're ageless wonders, doing what they have been doing for almost fifty years now." Mark grinned, an emotion reserved for only the closest of friends, "and look at us. Judging kids that were once our age as being 'too young'. How we've changed Sain."

"For the record," the paladin nudged the tactician, "some of us haven't. You still manage to interrupt and order around every noble, every knight, and every commoner you come in contact with."

"Yes well..." Mark shrugged his shoulders before staring towards the drawbridge. "C'mon Chad...don't disappoint me."

As if divining his susurration, the chains from the drawbridge began to loudly come to life. The large wooden bridge lowered itself ever so slowly; Mark was so enveloped in the process that he only vaguely heard Sain ride off and call for his men. Eventually, the bridge fell to the ground with a bang, smothering the flames that had turned the underside black. Unsurprisingly to Mark, the wrought iron gates behind the bridge were lowered. Unlike Araphen, whose gatehouse was think and deep, the gatehouse of Castle Laus was an unintimidating sight that did not strike fear into the heart of the brilliant tactician.

Unlike other fearsome castles such as Ostia or Araphen, Laus was no more invulnerable to attack than a fort. Though Castle Laus had definitely been improved from twenty years ago, the lack of any natural defenses did nothing to increase the security of the castle. In fact, with plains on all four sides of the castle, Castle Laus was one of the more vulnerable castles in all of Lycia. With the ability to surround the castle on all four sides, Castle Laus was any besieger's dream.

Just as Mark raised his hand to signal to Sain to charge, the gates began to open. Quickly waging an internal debate, the tactician ordered the cavalry to storm the gate. Although the Laus forces may have attempted to sally out, any attempts at organizing a defense would be crushed by the Pheraen and Caelin charge. As Mark watched as his forces poured down the hill towards Castle Laus, a speck of white caught his eye. Straining his eyes in the blackness of night, the fabled strategist eventually made out the form of a pegasus. Raising his hand for the young rider to see, Mark nodded as Thany landed gracefully beside him.

"Good job, Thany. Did you encounter any situations?"

"No! Luckily," she added excitedly, "Chad is a very good liar."

Mark nodded slowly, running his hands through his hair. "Aye. That is why I sent him. Does he still have that white flag I told you to wave when you got close to the castle?"

The young Ilian nodded, "I never took it from him, so I should imagine. Why?"

"Because I believe that is him right there then."

Thany followed Mark's finger, eyes narrowing when she saw two horses fleeing the castle. Although the man beside her possessed eyes that would make any man his age jealous, Thany's youthful eyes were still able to discern more than Mark's. Although it was dark out and the two horses were some distance away, Thany was able to deduce that there was one man on one of the horses and then two men on the other - Chad included. When she voiced this information to Mark, his head snapped up.

"Thany," the pegasus knight looked over to him, "fetch Master Roy - he is over on the opposite side of the hill. Instruct him and whomever he has with him - I believe it is Marcus, Alan, and Lance - and tell them to follow Sain's charge. When Marcus inevitably asks why, tell him Erik must be confronted."

"Yes sir!"

As she took to the air and glided the short way over to the Pheraen noble, Mark heard a clanking beside him. Nodding as Wallace drew near, the former Etrurian watched as his young charge took to the field, flanked by whom Mark considered to be the most talented of Pherae's knights. Roy and his men broke out into a fast-paced gallop, their lighter horses moving quicker than the heavy warhorses used by the rest of their men.

"I heard your conversation," the lumbering giant muttered, "trying to get the boy's hands dirty, are ye?"

"Not so much dirty as...experienced."

"What an odd way of saying dirty." Wallace shared a laugh alongside his longtime friend, watching as the two riders from before reached their lines. "The lad needs to be, however. Something tells me this conflict isn't going to resolve itself like twenty years ago."

Mark nodded absent mindedly as he watched the riders slow to a canter, "I believe you're more correct than you know. Wallace. I don't see Bern's aggression ending anytime soon."

"Unfortunately. Why on earth did Zephiel begin this murderous conquest he calls war? He was a bright lad twenty years ago! What went wrong?"

"Hector once wrote to me in a letter that Desmond had tried to have Zephiel killed. Perhaps that has something to do with it..."

No more words were spoken as the two veterans watched the forming battle. Though subject to archer fire, Laus was notorious for having porous marksmanship, often ranking dead last in the annual Lycian Games. Not a single rider had been unhorsed by any of Erik's men in this latest skirmish but as the outcome looked brighter, Laus attempted to rally from the castle. Led by none other than Marquis Laus himself, Laus' men were led out and circled around the gatehouse. The few horsemen that were left resided in the center of the half-circle, alongside the mounted Erik.

The sight of the defense intimidated Roy at first sight. Though he had joined numerous battles against fledgling bandit gangs in the past, as well as the storming of the ruined Castle Araphen, it was the first true time he was charging enemy lines. As it was said by Mark many times, a prepared enemy is a powerful enemy and Roy knew he had yet to face truly competent soldiers. Marcus, seemingly sensing his master's apprehension, looked over at him before nodding wordlessly. Empowered by his knight's faith, the noble urged his mount even faster, pushing the beast's natural limits.

The young man surged out in front of his comrades, not needing to look back to know that they had quickened their own pace to keep up with him. Though Sain's charge had reached the Laus lines, Roy had yet to. Though he did not need to know that his forces were infinitely superior compared to Laus', even he was surprised by the devastation that the initial charge left in its wake. Though more than a few riders had been brought down, the charge had destroyed any semblance of organization in Erik's line. The fighting was now concentrated individually and even Erik knew that Pheraen forces were superior to that of Laus.

Laus had one ace in their hole, however, and that was their own marquis. Though not nearly possessing martial skills like Hector or Eliwood, Erik was more than a match for any knight. Trained in horsemanship and fencing, the Lord of Laus had perfected his fighting form over a twenty year period. After being embarrassed at the hands of Hector and Eliwood, Erik had spent the greater portion of his life attempting to erase his biggest embarrassment - being captured on the field of battle.

Marquis Laus had engaged in battle with nearly five knights at once and was, shockingly, gaining the upper hand. Disarming a knight of his axe, the mounted noble cut the man's steed out from underneath him before parrying a blow from a sword wielding knight. The marquis drove his blade him into the man's stomach before pulling back on the reins of his horse, dodging a near fatal blow from an axe. Engaging with the knight who attempted the swing, the marquis quickly dispatched of the man before his eyes widened; his young adversary had leapt over the line of fallen men, his eyes locked with Erik's. Urging his mount backwards, Marquis Laus narrowly avoided a collision with the Pheraen youth.

Time seemed to stand still as the two nobles circled one another; around them, the soldiers nearby had slowed their fighting, eyes locked on their two leaders to watch the battle that was about to unfold. The man from Laus struck first, kicking his horse in the sides to burst forward, sword cutting high towards Roy's head; Roy ducked under the blow, stabbing outwards with his own blade, narrowly missing Erik's side in the process. The two moved apart from the other before wheeling their horses around, making another bout towards the other. As before, Erik used his longer reach to gain an advantage but was unable to land anything but a glancing blow on Roy's shoulder pauldron; the blow, however, was enough to deter Roy's incoming swipe, causing the sword to flicker off path and cut through the strap of Erik's reins. By now, many of the rank and file men had stopped fighting, eager to see the duel of two nobles.

As they readied for a third bout, the Erik growled in annoyance. With the loss of the right rein, Erik had no true way of urging his horse to move in a way applicable for jousting. Simply urging the beast forward with his toe, Marquis Laus raised his hand for yet another bout. As the two drew together, however, Erik realized that the way his horse was moving would not bode well for him; because Erik had to overcompensate with his foot, the horse was veered slightly off to the left, almost moving diagonally to Roy's linear motion. Despite this, Erik pressed the attack, swinging forward once more before the blow was reflected up into the air; his opponent broke tradition with his other attacks, however, and stabbed forward. In the split second that Roy made his attack, Erik realized what the boy meant to do; the marquis immediately withdrew his feet from the stirrups as his horse wobbled, its strength fading from the hole in its breast. As his mount began to collapse to the ground under him, Erik threw himself from the horse, rolling in the dirty roughly before stopping to a half.

Marquis Laus rose to a knee then, eyes narrowing at the events that transpired. Perhaps he had taken the boy too lightly for it was uncommon for a boy his age to resort to such tactics, their ideals often hamstrung by ideals such as honor. Standing, the marquis drew the silver sword from his waist, letting his longsword lay where he fell. Before him, Roy dismounted, handing the reins to his longtime aide, the famous Marcus; by now, Erik had realized what a loss he had endured. Whilst he had dueled with the boy, his own men had been defeated one by one before a fraction of his force remained. A sickening revelation came upon him at that instant, reminding him of a time twenty years prior when his horse had been cut from under him, collapsing on top of him as a burly axe wielder stood triumphant over him.

An immense rage claimed Erik then, pushing him forward as he swung towards the boy; Roy, having sheathed his longsword on his horse's saddle, immediately rolled to the side, drawing his saber as he did so. The two locked blades as Erik cut down, his silver sword stopped by Roy's horizontal blade; the teen struggled under the might of the older man, one hand on the handle and the other near the end of the blade, using all of his might to force his attacker off of him. With a mighty shove, Erik's blade was pushed back before it swung itself back around, cutting across his body; Roy was prepared, however, and flipped his blade vertically, blocking the blow before it reached the point where it possessed the greatest force. Sliding the side of his blade down the sharp edge of Erik's, the teen shoved off once more.

Spinning on his heel, Roy stabbed over his shoulder as the tip of the blade was batted away. Erik spun the blade in a half-circle in front of him before swinging hard from his right, aiming for Roy's arm; the teen brought his own weapon up to defend, grasping the handle with both hands. With the back of the blade situated over his left shoulder, the Pheraen held greater leverage and power than his opponent did, rendering Erik unable to force his own sword down further. In a move unfitting for a noble, the Marquis of Laus wrenched his left hand back and smashed it into the side of Roy's face, sending the teen wheeling backwards; Roy raised his blade just in time to block a vertical cut from Erik, an image similar to the one that began the fight on foot. The Lycian commander, however, kicked out with his foot, his boot striking the Lord of Laus in the stomach; the man doubled over, coughing before he stabbed outwards, unsurprised as his blade was knocked away.

Roy did not finish Erik, however, his honor overruling his judgment once again. The crafty marquis captured the moment and hopped backwards, breathing returning to normal as he regained his breath; as Roy drew close once again, Erik brought his blade from across his body in a powerful upward slice, aiming for the youth's neck. The nimble fighter ducked under the blow and stabbed upwards, his blade sinking into the flesh of Erik's stomach. With a surprised gasp, the Laus noble's arms fell to his sides as his sword dropped from his numb fingers. He looked down towards his midsection where Roy's thin blade had pierced his belly and emerged from underneath his ribs; the Pheraen lord cut to the right with his blade, tearing open the small puncture wound before removing the sword from Erik's body. Roy looked on somberly as Erik fell to his knees, blood beginning to pour forth from his body stained his ruffled shirt and silk pants. With a horrified look, Erik glanced towards his men before his eyes turned to Roy, a small smile on his face.

"Ha...haha...foolish boy...there is no hope for you...you, who oppose the mighty..." Erik coughed, his hand residing on the wound, keeping his innards from spilling out. "Bern is an...unstoppable force...there is nothing...you can do...to save yourself..." The Marquis of Laus coughed, blood splattering the ground in front of him, turning it a dark red; in his blood loss induced haze, the marquis could see his men surrendering their weapons, kneeling before their fallen liege. "My men...are yours...ensure that cretin...Narshen...does not..."

Words failed the dying man then as words failed the emerge from his moving mouth; although fear had captured his eyes since the blow, a calm understanding took hold then as Erik's vision faded to nothing. The man's eyes closed then as his hand fell limp to his lap, his lifeblood pouring out onto the now-red earth. With his muscles no longer supporting his weight, Erik slumped forward, his forehead thumping as it hit the ground before his body naturally flattened out under the weight of his armor. A pool of red blood formed under the body as his men looked on with looks of despair.

Off in the distance, Mark watched with an impassive expression, his eyes never betraying what truly lay in his heart. In his hand was a torch, created with the help of Lugh; the flames flickered beside him, the light bending his facial features and providing a warmth on this oddly cool night. With a cold burst of wind, the torch flickered and died, causing Mark to smirk somewhat.

"And with one final defiant act, Erik of Laus finally loses his twenty year battle..."


And with this, yet another chapter is finished. I apologize for taking so long to update, I have been most busy. Read and review as always, hope you enjoyed it.