Author's Note: Another done in a day chapter! And updated far earlier than normal (it's not even evening yet!) I might actually be getting back into my old writing habits (just as I decide to slip out of them). This chapter is a bit of a rip off, to be honest, as is the whole new plot. It actually deals with events that I've heard briefly of in FFXI lore, and my version of them, but is clearly inspired by one source, and less clearly by another. I'll explain that at the end, without ruining too much.

But in a main point, this deals with San d'Oria, and I know some things here I've severely improvised/just plain made up, but due to how long before FFXI it's set, I feel I can get away with that (for example, the Royal Guard's uniforms are nothing like they're supposed to be).

Oh, and sorry for more author's notes (there's one at the end as well). I think I just like talking.

CHAPTER 33

KINGDOM

Four elvaans charged across the battlefield, and dived for shelter behind a hill. War gripped the Konschtat Highlands as Bastok and San d'Oria fought. It was the second time that battle had gripped the highlands, and this time San d'Oria were strictly losing. The King himself had ridden out with his troops, but all now was lost. The four elvaans hidden, dressed in the black tunics of the King's Royal Guard, bearing the royal emblem on the front, a large white cross surrounded by a gold aura, and entirely faithful to their king and country. They were the best of the best, but knew in their hearts they had failed. They were cut off from the King, the man they swore to protect, and the Bastokian cannons were ripping across the highlands, making them certain it was only a matter of time before they, and their king, were dead.

"It is over, my friends." Panted one of the four elvaan. He was fairly short, and actually quite fat, but that didn't affect his combat ability like some might assume. "We might as well get this over with. Let's charge the cannons and die in a blaze of glory." He went to get up casually, as if his choice of action was a matter of fact. Another of the elvaan guards pulled him back down.

"No!" He snapped. This elvaan was much taller, and fairly well built. His greying hairs also marked him as the oldest and the special crest on his right breast as the leader of the four, the Captain of the Royal Guard. "We have taken a vow to protect our king, no matter what. And protect him we shall."

"But the King's regiment is cut off!" The youngest of the four spoke up, once just a youth taken under their wing, but now easily one of the most capable in the entire ranks of the Royal Guard, a mix of experience and young age made him a deadly soldier. "We cannot reach him!"

"We must!" The captain cried passionately.

"He is right." Conceded the fourth, a fairly gentle looking man, considering he was soldier. "We cannot abandon our king."

"That requires a charge across the entire highlands." The fat elvaan explained. "Past the cannons, through the soldiers, and to the other side. Even if we were to make it, all we would achieve is to die by the King's side."

"Surely that is our duty?" Smiled the captain. The fat one grumbled.

"Yes. It is." He muttered.

"Let's do it." Sighed the youngest, before ducking down hearing the cannons roar once more. He swung his sword down, and the others lowered their swords, clashing them together. "For our King."

"For our country." The captain said proudly.

"For our loved ones back home." The gentle looking one decided.

"For everything we're leaving behind." The fat one boomed.

"All for one!" The captain vowed, a deadly serious look in his eyes.

"And one for all!" The other three cried in unison.

"CHARGE!"

The four drew their sounds and ran up over the bank, letting out a cry as they charged, cannons thundering all around them. The Konschtat Highlands were huge, and reaching the other side where they believed the King and his regiment to be pinned down would not be easy. It was the captain who died first, the ground exploding and sending him flying.

"NO!" Screamed the youthful one, turning back to help him. A cannon impacted next to him and sent him flying away, crashing down painfully. The gentle looking one felt a bullet from the newly developed rifles of Bastok pierce his heart and he went down. Those rifles had been the bane of the elvaans during this prolonged battle, and now they had claimed another victim. The fatter one let out a final cry of rage, having seen his friends fallen.

"ALL FOR ONE!" He screamed again, charging, before feeling the bullets rip through him, and dropping down.

The best of the Royal Guard of San d'Oria were gone. The King was cut off, and presumed dead. Elvaan corpses were scattered across the highlands, all dead, no match for the industrial might of Bastok. Bastok had triumphed in the Second Battle of Konschtat, and the war was over. San d'Oria had lost.

Olose Sampson ran down the large steps that led to the second level of Arcadia's manor. He skidded to the bottom and saw that she seemed to be preparing to leave.

"Where are you going?" He asked quickly.

"San d'Oria." She replied sleepily.

"What? Why? Why wasn't I told?" Olose snapped, slipping into his role as overprotective bodyguard. "And why do you look so tired?"

"The war has ended, and San d'Oria has surrendered to Bastok." She explained. "I stayed up all last night waiting for the final reports. King Richard is still missing, and San d'Oria is in inner turmoil. They think civil war is brewing."

"Civil war? But-" Olose paused. "What happened, exactly?"

"The King left to fight in the wars personally, he did not want to see his troops suffer while he sat back. During the final battle in the Konschtat Highlands, he was lost. Nobody has found him, or heard from him." She explained, but saw that Olose didn't quite appreciate the problem. "The King is yet to bare any heirs, and in light of that, the Cardinal has decided to take control of San d'Oria. The problem lies in the fact that it was the Cardinal who was left in charge when the King departed."

"So?" Olose shrugged. "From what I've heard the Cardinal is a kind and forgiving man." Olose paused. "For an elvaan." He added with a grin.

"Some people are theorising that the reason the elvaans lost the battle at Konschtat is because their armies were cut off from supplies. It seems somebody at San d'Oria stopped sending support, and the only person with that much authority is the Cardinal."

"Almost as if he wanted the King to die, so that he could take control of San d'Oria." Olose finally understood. "But that means he slaughtered hundreds of elvaans just to take the throne."

"Exactly." Arcadia said with a stern look upon her face.

"How do you know all this? And why are you walking into the middle of it?" Olose asked quickly.

"Lord Tarrak sent me a letter." She held it up as proof.

"Haven't seen him in years." Olose smiled in reflection.

"Indeed. He is rather worried. His son was a royal guard, but he hasn't returned yet, and he feels he was slain. And now the city is in uproar. He is due to be hanged. His last request was to send a letter to me." Arcadia explained.

"Hanged?" Olose exclaimed. "What? Why?"

"He tried to attack the Cardinal for vengeance." Arcadia answered, almost guiltily. "I feel if I go to San d'Oria, my presence as a hume will make him reconsider."

"The elvaans don't exactly respect humes." Olose pointed out.

"No, but in light of their defeat by Bastok, they cannot harm me, and must respect my wishes. Especially with the high status I carry." She nodded to her servant, who began to load her suitcases.

"And you forgot to tell me this?" Olose asked sceptically.

"I felt you would worry needlessly." Arcadia replied.
"You're walking into a city on the verge of civil war, reeling from a defeat by a nation comprised of the same race as you! Of course I'm worried! Anything could happen!" Olose cried. "I'm your bodyguard Arcadia! I also love you! I will protect you no matter what!" Arcadia smiled slightly.

"Then get packed." She shot.

In the mighty Chateau d'Oraguille a lone figure in a black tunic approached the Cardinal, a powerful looking man with an expertly trimmed white beard and long flowing red robes. He was sat on the throne of the King, and raised an eyebrow curiously at the approaching figure. He was limping badly, apparently very injured, and his black tunic, the uniform of the Royal Guard of San d'Oria, was badly torn.

"Ah, I was under the impression that the Royal Guard were all wiped out." The Cardinal spoke in a soft and concerned voice. "It is good to see you alive! I pray, is there any news of the King?" The royal guard looked up, a youthful figure, and somebody who had seen his three best friends murdered in war just days ago.

"None, your eminence." The guard replied coldly.

"Lieutenant Dartian, wasn't it?" The Cardinal inquired, recognising the man from the many fights he had gotten in with the Cardinal's own Temple Knights. "Yes, yes it was. Dartian Loneheart. I am glad to see your alive, but sorry to inform you that you are the last of the Royal Guards." A slight smile crept across the Cardinal's features, and there seemed to be something sinister in his manner. "Therefore, I have no choice but to disband them."

"There will always be more men willing to take a place at the King's side." Dartian shot.

"My Temple Knights are the new reigning authority in San d'Oria." The Cardinal stated. "You may apply for a place amongst them if you wish to continue protecting your ruler."

"Your eminence, I was under the impression that the Temple Knights protected the Cardinal, and not the King." Dartian said dryly.

"I am afraid they have become one and the same." The Cardinal answered, putting as much effort into sounding sorrowful as possible. "With the King gone, I am the only logical leader, and we must have a leader to prevent anarchy."

"I believe, your eminence, that the royal constitution is very specific on these matters." Dartian explained. "The King is missing, but not proven dead. You cannot seize the crown until it is confirmed he is dead, or he has been missing for more than a month, without any signs of life. Even then, your seizure with need to be relinquished if he ever returns."

"I do not take the crown because I want it, but because we need a leader." The Cardinal sounded hurt by Dartian's explanation, sensing his motive. "A meeting of Lords has decided to shorten that time to a week. In these hard times we need a leader and we cannot wait. Once I am in charge, I shall have full authority. Again, the King returning would just add turmoil to the proceedings, and we cannot afford turmoil as of this moment. San d'Oria is currently much too fragile." Dartian went to protest, and the Cardinal raised a hand . "It is not my choice that I take these duties. Please, I am doing this for San d'Oria."

"I'm sure you are, your eminence." Dartian spat. "I bid you farewell. I am still a Royal Guard of San d'Oria, at least until this week of yours is up, and I shall continue to serve my King, the true ruler of the elvaan lands. I believe he still lives, and I believe he will take the throne. Good day, your eminence." Dartian turned and left. The Cardinal paused.

He extended his arm and gestured forth one of his Temple Knights. She was a woman in her thirties, tall, and she looked to be very strong.

"Sir?" The Temple Knight inquired.

"Captain d'Mil." The Cardinal spoke slowly. "I believe that man may be a problem. See to it that he does not leave San d'Oria, or perform any acts that could be interpreted as-" He paused, searching for the right word. "-treason, against our new regime."

"Yes, your eminence." Bowed Captain d'Mil.

Olose smiled warmly, looking down at Arcadia, who had fallen asleep against him in the carriage. The long night she had spent awake previously had clearly gotten the better of her, and she was now sleeping peacefully. She looked as beautiful as ever, choosing to wear a white dress in a display of peace, in case any of the elvaans misinterpreted the reasons a hume would visit San d'Oria, but was otherwise dressed as she always was. She stirred slightly, clearly having a dream of some kind, and in the process of moving ended up forcing one of her long diamond earrings to jab herself. She sprang awake and Olose chucked. She rubbed her neck where the earring had dug into her.

"Teaches you for wearing those things." Olose commented. It was a well known fact Olose hated her wearing expensive jewels, he always saw it as making her a target for every thief in every city or town they entered.

"Where are we?" She asked groggily. "And why did you let me fall to sleep? I told you to make sure I stayed awake!"

"But you looked so peaceful." Olose told her. "Besides, you clearly needed it. We're approaching San d'Oria now."

"Good. We have to get their soon. I do not know when they are planning to hang Lord Tarrak, but we must stop them." Arcadia paused, deep with concern. "He has done much for me in the past, I cannot allow him to die."

"I understand." Olose smiled. He loved it when Arcadia showed such deep concern, as self-centred as her vanity could sometimes seem, she deeply cared for others, and Olose was always glad to see this.

Dartian marched to the southern gate of San d'Oria, but two Temple Knights stood in his way.

"I'm afraid Cardinal Treville has decreed that you are not to leave the city." The first spoke.
"I am on a mission to find and save King Richard, who has more authority than Cardinal Treville, I do believe." Dartian bitterly smiled.

"The King is dead. Long live the Cardinal." Announced the second Temple Knight, drawing his sword.

"If this is how you want to play it, then it's fine by me." Dartian drew his sword, slicing upwards and cutting through the first guard, who was still drawing his sword. He turned around and blocked the onslaught of attacks from the second, stumbling back. He blocked upwards, and dove behind the Temple Knight, pulling on the back of his red tunic (much like the tunic of the Royal Guard, but red, and with the Cardinal's emblem as opposed to the King). The Temple Knight fell backwards, and landed on his back. Dartian ran up the nearest watchtower where three Temple Knights were on guard. They all drew their swords, and let out an innocent smile. "Hi." He waved, just as they all attacked, driving him back. He blocked their blows, but couldn't get in a good attack. He managed to swipe at one's shins, which allowed him to counterattack the others.

The Temple Knight he had tripped up below raced up the watchtower, seeing Dartian fight off three of his colleagues at once. He let out a cry and charged Dartian, tackling him. The two stumbled back and fell off of the wall, tumbling down and crashing down outside San d'Oria.

Dartian groaned in pain, barely able to move. The Temple Knight who had landed on top of him managed to get up, considerably less injured. He held his sword to Dartian's neck.

"For the Cardinal." He smiled, lifting the blade. He went to swing it down but it never made contact with Dartian's neck. He was tacked and knocked unconscious in seconds.

Dartian rolled his neck, and could see a carriage pulled by chocobos had stopped on the road not far from him. The door was open, and he could make out a girl sat inside. He rolled his head back, and could see his saviour. A fairly short man dressed in a beaten brown jacket with long wavy black hair.

"Are you alright?" He asked quickly. Dartian blacked out before he could reply.

Author's Note: Right, now for the stuff I didn't want to explain at the start so I didn't ruin anything. Yes, I know (or at least am fairly certain) that San d'Oria doesn't have a Cardinal. But this is set far far before, so I figure I can get away with it. Also this is the first story in a long time without Olose's crew, but that's because I felt I could do a tighter narrative without them. Although there's Dartian as a new character to replace them. Oh, and in case you were wondering, this may be a rip off, but Dartian is not my horrific attempt at spelling D'Artagnan, the fourth musketeer. In case you didn't know, because not everyone will be aware of the story, this story is a bit like the Three Musketeers, or at least slightly inspired by it. The other inspiration is in fact Robin Hood, and the idea of trying to reinstate the King before somebody else takes over, hence the King being named 'Richard'. And the Cardinal being named 'Treville' is actually a homage to the Three Musketeers, Treville was a character in that, even if he wasn't the Cardinal.

So that's right, once again I've ripped off things to make my own story. Although this time it wasn't that planned, I wanted to do a story featuring the King of San d'Oria, and trying to stop somebody overthrowing the throne because I thought it would be quite interesting, which made me think of Robin Hood, and then to get the feel of it, I watched Man in the Iron Mask before writing it, and realised I could make it feel a bit like The Three Musketeers, hence this happened. So sorry for yet another blatant rip off! Hopefully it'll work better than the last story arc, which I struggled with a bit.