Bard

"The battle was nothing short of a slaughter as a group of ambushing Varden had caught one of the Empire's patrols unaware. As the fight was steadily being lost to the invaders, a lone figure dashed like mad for cover against the onslaught of barbed arrows. Panting heavily, he managed to deflect a couple of the deadly projectiles with magic causing them to bury their tips into harmless tree trunks. The sudden use of wards only further drained the man's energy as he frantically dove into a muddy ditch just off to his right..."

"This will be indeed a challenging mission," he thought. "Where shall I begin..." Bard stared at the large array of vegetables before him, accompanied by an array of expensive spices and herbs surrounding the main affair.

Today will be his lordship's fifteenth birthday and his task at hand was to create a fine feast for his young lord. The task itself wouldn't have high stakes, however if his cuisine was not made up to the his master's standards, He would most certainly be placed under the wrath of Desdemona and Rosalie. And when those two women worked together, their results were frightening to say the least. Sighing, he continued to stare at the ingredients, trying to find a way to blend them into masterful delicacies of which his lord would enjoy.

It was hard adapting to his peaceful environment like his comrades did, there was always some nerve he failed to loosen and thus he was always on edge. Adrenaline was always ready to pump under the first sign of danger and this had been the cause of many of his accidents in the kitchen. It wasn't his fault though. Because unlike his other companions, he had served in the Royal Army for many years now...

The Royal Army of the Empire was a fearsome fighting force. In wartime, they would always have upwards of around fifty million soldiers at the ready with an extra twenty-five million in reserve for emergency situations. The fighting force was split up into many battle groups and within each battalion they possessed lieutenant-generals of varying levels of tactical skill. Serving alongside them were the major generals in order to increase the fighting capabilities of any one battalion. Lieutenant Randall led the hundred sixteenth fighting battalion and assisting him as major general was none other than Bard himself. The Lieutenant was of middling age, his hair slightly graying as he continued his service in the Empire. Bard looked up to the middle-aged man. However during that fateful day, they were at odds with one another regarding battle strategy. High command had reported sightings of Varden resistance members near a passage leading to Dras-Leona. Because their battalion was the closest, they were ordered to approach the passage to scout for any resistance members and if so destroy them with impunity.

"I'm telling you sir, it is an ambush!" exclaimed Bard as he pounded his fist furiously on the table which laid out a map before the two commanders. "They aren't camping at the Northern end like the reports said. They're hiding out in the mountains because no fighting force with half a brain would think of camping in such a position unguarded!"

"Nonsense!" replied the Lieutenant. "A scout had only just reported their positions which corroborates every other report of those rebel scum camping out at that end. If we charge them now, we will gain the element of surprise. Our numbers alone would easily overwhelm what forces they have."

"But sir, I don't think that you—"

"Exactly. You don't think because that's what I am here for, major general Bard," said Lieutenant Randall crossly. "I want us all to stand ready within the half-hour. And if you don't feel you need to come, Bard, stay and I'll have you punished for insubordination once we make it back to Dras-Leona."

Scowling heavily, he remained silent.

Shifting his iron chest-plate into a more comfortable position on his shoulders, he exited the armory having geared up alongside of the rest of the soldiers. When the thirty minutes had passed, Bard mounted his steed, Caliph. With a gentle nudge of his mind, he told his horse to move out the same time Lieutenant Randall issued the order.

Their trek was silent as they neared the mountain pass. Stringing his bow, he glanced nervously from side to side. Everything appeared way too peaceful to be called safe, there was no sign of life except for their motley battalion of one-thousand soldiers. Bard did not believe even for a moment that they were alone. Their army was halfway through the pass when Bard felt a sudden pit grow in his stomach and before he could voice anything, Lieutenant Randall turned to him. "See? not a single soul—"

Before the commander could even finish, a familiar whistle cut through the air and Bard watched in horror as an arrow buried itself through his lieutenant's neck. The man gurgled incoherently before more arrows pierced his back ending the man's life right then and there. Both man and horse fell and chaos ensued

"LIEUTENANT RANDALL!" shouted Bard as more arrows came down to strike at the men. Bard watched helplessly as his soldiers were cut down like scythe through wheat. "RETREAT! EVERYONE FALL BACK!" he yelled frantically. But they were stuck. Because of the narrow passage, the rear of the army had yet to see the carnage that was happening in the front and so there they went marching to their deaths. Caliph in a panic stood up on his hind legs, throwing Bard off before galloping to escape the battle.

Scrambling to his feet, he notched his arrow at one of the enemy soldiers above him in a tree. Loosing his projectile, he watched as his shot hit straight and true causing the rebel to fall to their death. Despite the army's resistance, they were quickly being cut down by the Varden's style of warfare. At this rate the battalion will soon be grounded into dust. Diving into a muddy ditch for cover, he fired another arrow at his attackers killing one of them with deceptive ease. The onslaught continued however and his wards have continued to hold against the arrows but they were starting to wane.

That was when he saw a tall figure clad in dark armor step out from the shadows, blades drawn. A loud roar rolled through the thick air almost shattering his ear drums. Bard's mouth suddenly was agape as he beheld a sapphire dragon dive from the heavens, raining fire down on the invaders. Within seconds a large swath of the passage was in flames with the Varden nowhere in sight. The dark figure, as Bard saw him was busy hacking apart any survivors with little remorse nor difficulty.

In less than ten minutes, an eerie silence settled over the passage. Climbing through the dead bodies he beheld the death and destruction that the battle had wrought. "Dead... so many dead." He murmured staring at the piles of deceased soldiers pierced with arrow or swords or both. He spotted his commander not far off to the side. Walking over, he kneeled next to Randall. The man's eyes were still open, surprise frozen on his face from the ambush. Closing the lieutenants eyes, Bard spoke, "Rest in peace, sir. May the great gray halls take you in with much fanfare."

The sound of boots squelching through rivers of blood met his ears and he turned to find the mysterious walking towards him, his blades sheathed. "Who are you?" asked Bard.

"Eridar." said the figure. He turned his head side from side as if to evaluate the damage. "A whole battalion destroyed and yet you lived throughout the onslaught. That is quite the impressive feat."

"And yet you and your dragon slaughtered them all in a matter of minutes." replied Bard.

"What will you do now that your entire battalion is destroyed?"

"I don't know..."

"Luck didn't help you survive this battle. It was your skill and strength and if you don't know what to do with it anymore, then work for me."

Bard jumped when the door to the kitchen flew open revealing Desdemona and Rosalie followed by an excited Finny. "You haven't started yet, Bard?" asked Rosalie incredulously. He shrugged.

"I don't know what his lordship would like; he doesn't eat meat, that's one delicacy off the table." He grumbled staring wistfully at the slab of meat near his set of ingredients him. Then an idea clicked in his head.

Nearly an hour and a half later was he finally done and setting the banquet table for the occasion. Rosalie had pulled out the finest tea set and silverware the castle had to offer, while Desdemona decorated the halls with bouquets of beautiful flowers. Finny stood to the side, bringing in food.

Lord Eridar came in along with his mother and the two took the seats at the head of the table. Saphira was able to fit into the large dining space with ease and laid herself next to the banquet table.

His lordship looked different today. In a departure from his normal attire, he wore a pale red tunic and black breeches. His brows rose when he took in the sight of the food before him. A variety of soups, mushroom to carrots, honey cakes, blueberry pies, and in the center a cake made in a semblance of Saphira. "Happy Birthday, Lord Eridar!"

He didn't smile nor did he frown but rather he stared at all of them and took in their bright smiles and Bard could see, though it was just barely there, a sparkle in his eyes. It was a rather eventful occasion. Desdemona and Rosalie fawned over him as usual, cutting up portions of food for his plate while also serving Lady Selena. Finny was amusing Saphira by tossing chunks of meat at her for her to catch while Bard just sat there, pleased that his cooking had come out well for once. This peace... he could get used to it.