I'm really sorry everyone for dissapearing in a sense...I've just been so busy with school, and since I'm a canadian, studying spanish is a bit tougher for me...but I'm soldiering on as best I can. If anyone wants to see one of my earlier works, which sucked majorly around the start, check out The New Threat which is a Mortal Kombat fic. Anywho I'm still looking for a few OC's so if anyones interested, just post their OC in the review, with their name, age, hair and eye color, where they're from, their class if they're human (please no more assassins or theifs for the love of the gods) and their personality traits. With that said...I hope you enjoy the new chapter. Please R&R.
Chapter 8
This one time... at the tacticians guild…
Sharn stretched and yawned. They had been riding for the past few days non-stop to reach Sacae in time. A snapping twig immediately caught his attention and then turned his head to look at it. A bird had landed on a branch that was too weak to supports it's weight and then flew off in fear. "Damn…" he swore. The bird was an owl, and it was flying in the day time. Owls were associated with death, darkness, and the underworld. "That's not an omen right?" He asked rhetorically raising his head to the heavens. A boom of thunder echoing from the distance was his reply. "…right?" he asked again. Raven and Karel looked at each other quizzically and then shrugged. Even before the world had became this twisted, Sharn never was known for sane thoughts and comments.
"Sir Sharn! The scout has returned with her report and asks to see you immediately." one of the soldiers said.
Sharn woke up instantly and nodded. "Bring her to me, also bring food and drink for her."
The soldier turned and gestured to the scout and then ran off to get something for her to eat. The scout ran over towards Sharn's horse. Her black hair had platinum streaks and her eyes were cobalt blue. Sharn couldn't help but notice her slim but voluptuous figure. 'Damn libido…' he thought.
"Report." Sharn said
"Sir, the battle has already started and, judging from the amount of corpses on the battle field, has been going for some time now…although something about the battle seems off."
"Which was?"
"There was a flight of wyverns fighting on the side of the nomads…the man leading them is someone you may remember from when you graduated from the tacticians guild and ventured across Elibe for the first time…it was Lord Archius Damascus."
"What!? Are you sure of this?"
"Completely sir. He's of the right age, and matches the description you wrote in the report about who we may have to face from Bern."
" This does not bode well with me…did you see anyone else that stuck out?" Sharn asked.
"A sage with long dark hair was leading a squad of nomads on guerilla attacks on the Bern forces…I didn't see his face but he passed right by my hiding spot and I saw a silver hawk holding a fish on a bracelet he was wearing…he must be a master tactician as well."
"A sage who's a master tactician…how old did he look?"
"He looked to be in his late teens to early twenties...why do you ask?"
"Because I had a good idea who it could be…grab a horse, we've got to get there quick," Sharn made a dismissive gesture and shouted after the scout "And don't you dare die…your sister scares me more than an extremely angry wyvern which hasn't eaten for days."
'Archius…Jared…hold on, I'm on my way.'
"Gods of the forge, grant me this boon, FIRE!" Jared yelled, and flung his hand at a Bern soldier getting ready to stab one of the nomads from the rear. It was an ambush. Ritchie had anticipated his next attack and had troops lying in wait. Bit by bit, the nomads were losing ground, and they were tiring quickly. 'This is the end for me…but I'm going to take as many of these bastards down as I can.'He thought and grabbed the most powerful tome he had, and gathered his strength. "FOR SACAE!" He bellowed at the tops of his lungs and began to chant "Piercing winds of ragnarok, destroy my foes! FIMBULVITER!" He felt his strength leave his quickly and a freezing cyclone flew from his hand and sent a large amount of Bern soldiers flying through the air. Time and time again he cast the spell, trying to keep the attackers away from the nomads, and each time his spell got weaker and less effective. All of a sudden his thigh felt like it was immersed in fire, and he fell to one knee causing his muscles to tense up and the pain to get worse. Reaching to the back of his thigh he felt the feathered shaft of an arrow standing erect. A war cry came from above him and he lifted his head just in time to see an axe come down, and then he closed his eyes. "Damn it…"
He felt blood pour down his face, but he wasn't dead…he wasn't even hit by the axe. He opened his eyes and he saw a flowing blue swordmasters robe in front of him. "Get up, or I'll kill you myself, wizard." the swordmaster uttered in a harsh, chilling voice. A swordsman with red hair ran over and started attacking the Bernese warriors. "Karel, remember what Sharn said…we keep this one alive."
Karel grunted in acknowledgement and ran into the midst of the enemy troops, yelling like a madman.
"You mentioned Sharn?" Jared asked the man.
"Yeah, he's our tactician….really insistent we save you and as many as your little nomad buddies as possible."
"Oh thank Elimine," he said. "How far away is the main host of your forces?"
"Not too far…they'll be here very soon." The man said and then helped Jared up. "My name is Raven by the way…now if you can stand by yourself…?"
Jared nodded. "Yes I can stand…thank you Sir Raven." Raven nodded and then ran off to help Karel. A trumpet and the sound of galloping horses announced the arrival of Sharn's forces. The new comers wasted no time in surging into the tide of Bernese troops and easily decimating a large number of the fatigued warriors quickly.
"Damn! They've got reinforcements, everyone pull back!" said a voice from behind the Bern line. The order echoed throughout the ranks as they turned tail and fled back towards where the main army was camped.
"Jared, Jared, Jared….I don't talk to you for a while and look what happens." came a familiar voice from his left.
"Sharn, you insufferable psychopath, do you remember what I said I'd do if I saw you again?"
Sharn looked puzzled and approached Jared slowly. "Not really…want to refresh my memory?"
"At the tacticians guild when my adopted family came for a visit…"
"Not ringing a bell…" Sharn said.
Jared continued. "My fourteen year old sister was eating lunch with me in the library…"
"Still nothing…"
"And then you came along drunker then anyone thought possible and groped at her and hit on her."
"Oh yeah…I remember now…and you punched my in the jaw knocking me to the floor… and you said that the next time you saw me when you had graduated you'd."
"I'd remind you of what they do to perverts in Bern." Jared finished with a growl and drew his unwounded leg back and kicked Sharn square in the genitals, making Sharn's mouth go into a perfect o shape and making him collapse to the ground writing in pain.
"I swear she looked older then sixteen! I didn't know she was your sister, I was drunk, I didn't know any better…" Sharn muttered in a pained voice, going over every excuse he could think of.
Jared helped Sharn to his feet. "Now that that bit of business is taken care of…Thank you for coming to the aid of me and my troops."
Sharn was still gasping for air as he chocked out "You're welcome…"
Legault paced in the wagon over and over. Bern could have attacked Bulgar while he was away trying to find Pent and his troops. 'Damn it…I'm getting stressed…well no surprise there, it's only the fate of one of the last free cities in Elibe resting on my shoulders.' he thought to himself. A firm hand was placed on his shoulder. "Easy there Legault…you're going to wear a hole in the floor of the wagon of you keep pacing like that. Plus you're starting to worry everyone else too."
Legault turned to see a fair looking man, with short blond hair. "Sorry Sir Percival…I'm just nervous."
A general with brown hair and beard stood up and walked over to where Legault and Percival stood. "Aye…and there's nothing wrong with being nervous….I'll admit that I'm a bit nervous myself…and personally I think everyone is before they go to battle."
Legault looked at the general quizzically. "Even you're nervous?…The "Great General" of Etruria, Sir Douglas?"
Douglas scowled at Legault. "I ask everyone not to call me that, but they never listen…Yes I'm a little nervous…but mostly excited…I haven't had any real challenges since I was a young lad fighting in the wars."
Pent walked hopped onto the back of the wagon. "You should try my job then…Challenges every day, trying to expand our knowledge and ability to harness magic… I'm nowhere near the level of Athos yet…but I feel like I'm on the verge of a breakthrough."
Douglas scoffed. "If I wanted to attack from afar like a coward and dress like a mummer I would have been a clown that throws water balloons."
Pent glared and retorted "Better that than being dumber than a rock and heavier than a wyvern."
A moment of tenseness was felt in the wagon until both generals burst out laughing and clapping each other on the back. Percival sighed and raised his hands in a gesture of futility. "Those two always act like this…bloody nut jobs is what they are."
Legault nodded in agreement. "But they sure do know how to lighten the mood." he added.
Ritchie threw a stone goblet at the messenger who had came to report on the war. "You can be serious!" Ritchie yelled in anger.
"I'm afraid so milord…The nomads guerilla attacks have devastated our supply lines, leaving us with very little supplies coming in to us, and all of what we lost have gone to the nomads…Also a group of soldiers have joined them…their standard is that of old Caelin."
"Damn it all to hell! How hard is it for you morons to wipe out a small number of uncivilized, inbred, bush people?! Saint Elimine…Tomorrow I take to the field to lead you myself…I'll show you what victory looks like. Oh yes… a little reward for you…" Ritchie said darkly.
The messenger grew fearful and asked "Milord?"
"Espíritu de los condenados, aristae mi animigos abajo a infierno! FENRIR!" He yelled and thrust his open palm towards the messenger. His screams brought Ritchie immense joy, and he imagined how happier he'd be using his dark magic to kill off the nomads, and his "friend" Jared. A guard walked in and announced. "Milord…someone here to see you… He claims to want to forge an alliance with us. We have stripped him of his weapons and have him waiting in the center of the camp…should I send him in?"
"Yes, do so." Ritchie said nodding. 'Finally some of those nomadic peons with some sense.' he thought as he sat down.
A large man dressed in nomadic clothes entered the tent. "Greetings Bernese conqueror…I am Rashad…Chieftain of the Djur tribe, and I have a proposition for you…"
Ritchie smiled and felt his anger slip away…this was going to be very advantageous…he knew it.
Fayreil walked back into her camp and wiped the blood off her daggers. 'The troops of Araphen had to be the fattest, most idiotic slobs I've ever had to sneak past' She thought as she rubbed her blades with a cloth covered in sword oil.
"If that's so, then why did you kill them then?" asked her traveling companion who had just drug himself out of their tent.
"Dammit Darius! What have I told you about reading my thoughts?" She asked exasperatingly.
"Not my fault you just beam them out like that…besides you never seem to talk much so it seems like the only way I can get to know you is through your thoughts." he replied.
"I'm paid to escort you to Bulgar, not to make conversation and tell you my life story." she said coldly.
Darius moved forward and breathed flames onto the kindling lying in a fire pit and sat down on a rock by the fire. His gold eyes had unsettled her greatly until she found out he was an actual dragon, not a morph. She had lived in a town near the Lycian border, on the Nabatan side, but her town was also close to the dread isle, and was one of the first to be conquered by a man known as 'Nergal' in his search for the Arch-sage Athos… at the time she had though him crazy…searching for someone who had died centuries ago, but what with she had seen since then she was starting to believe. She could remember the invasion day perfectly, from the color of the sunrise, to the morphs murdering her family while she hid with her little sisters to save themselves. Her sisters were now staying with the manaketes in the city of Arcadia, safe from the dangers that she herself faced daily.
Darius sighed and said "I'm sure your sisters are fine, and before you growl, you need to stop worrying about what I pick up from your thoughts…I try to block it all out but every once and a while something gets through…nothing major, just surface thoughts." Darius was an outcast just as she had considered herself, both of them having lost their parents in wars, and forced to do degrading jobs so their siblings could survive… that was the main reason she had taken the job of getting him to the rebellion…that and she wanted to see if he was really telepathic. She learned the hard way and had been regretting it ever since.
"So Fayreil… I know there is more than one reason you want to go to the rebellion right?" He asked, his soft quiet voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire.
"Right again lizard breath," she replied. "I want to sign on and fight for a chance at a better life… anything has to be better than this doomed world."
Darius nodded slowly, as if letting this settle in. "And if you die, what then?"
"Then I die…simple as that."
"Do you not worry about what will happen to your siblings with out their big sister?" He asked.
Fayreil drew back as if hit. In her urge to protect her sisters she had forgotten about what would happen if she died. "I…I hadn't thought about that."
Yet again Darius nodded. "Don't be so quick to throw away your life. Always remember that even in your darkest hour when death seems to be bliss, that there are people in this world who count upon you, and need you there for them. Do not allow yourself to be consumed by revenge with out thinking of the outcome."
This time Fayreil nodded slowly and stood up, turning to the tent they shared. "Lucretia." she said as she walked towards the tent.
"What?" Darius asked in confusion.
"The name of my home town…it was Lucretia…and my mothers name was Margaret…just thought someone should know." She replied as she crawled into the tent. "Wake me when it's my watch."
Darius smiled and replied. "I will…get some rest Fayreil."
That night she slept the most sound sleep she'd had ever since her parents died.
A strong man wearing simple clothes and a bandana over his hair pulled a small skiff ashore and offered his hand to the woman sitting inside. Her tail twitched and her ears were flat on her head as she took his hand and got out of the small boat. The man chuckled and said "Luna, you'd think a cat who's been at sea for as long as you have would be unafraid of water, and unable to get sea sick anymore…up and at 'em we're here."
Luna growled at the man but hopped off the boat. "You really mean we've arrived Emi?"
Emi looked and nodded. "Yes we have, my love…we've reached Elibe."
