Ok folks. Words can not describe how sorry I am for disapearing for so long. For quite some time I lost the heart to draw, paint, write, create anything. I will be honest in the fact that I was once rejoicing chapters ago however since then I have parted ways with my partner. It's taken months to even be motivated to do anything for myself. It is hard when you have bought a house with a person, planned a life together and started down that path only to have it yanked from you. It's only until a riding lesson where I was thrown that my trainer woke me up. I need to get my head out of the ground and wake up, life is moving on all around me and I am missing out on everything because I refused to wake up from my dulled senses.
Funny how all it takes is a stubborn horse for us to wake up and realize... life goes on.
So, my life is back on track now. I even booked myself a lovely vacation to Ireland in which I will get to see the western coast all on horseback! I can't wait to unleash my full muse again and hopefully it will reflect in my writings!
-In Scanra-
Fall had just begun to set in the north, and how he despised it. Here, fall was not beautiful but instead a rather depressing thing. What tree's they had in the cold twisted north were stripped of their boldly colored leaves just days as they started to turn. The cold winds from the sea's pushed out and over the land as if some invisible hand was trying to reach out and grasp the mountain range to the far east. Even those mountains seemed to send a cold chill into Scanra, the snows had already come to the mountain range and that icy chill was flowing down and into the lands bellow. Unlike their brethren to the east, Scanra wasn't cradled by the mountains from the sea it was out in the open. Like some festering wound that he intended to mend in the most unlikely of fashions.
"My lord?" The raspy voice drew his attention and gaze as he ripped it from the dead brown landscape to look toward the rat faced man that had spoken. His advisor truly was a rat, down to his very mannerism's he mimicked the creature the young Gerolt had dubbed him. "You wanted to finalize plans for while you are in the south." The word south flowed from the rat's tongue as if it were poison and that itself angered the young warlord.
"There is no finalizing plans you idiot." The warlord was truly his father's image in that very moment. His tone was cold and calculating, finally all those years waiting behind the lines, hidden by skirts and shields to be raised to be his father's true heir were paying off. "My word is law, I have stated what is to happen and you shall see to it." The rat faced man winced a bit then as his lord turned to walk down the archer's runway of the keep. Gerolt had planned his future home well, as the keep was perfect for defense and he could hold up for months behind it's too thick and outwardly pitched walls. If they dared to climb they would find themselves unable and would plummet to the ground below, runes and blood magic had gone into the foundation. He had gone above and beyond his father's work of using innocent souls and blood to fuel simple machines; oh no he himself had learned how to wield it with devastating force. Not even the greatest mages from the city could bring his blood keep down. The upmost level was a simple walkway all the way around, windows wide enough for bowmen and machines that would shoot crossbow bolts as thick as a man's wrist. As he descended into the heart of the keep the rat man finally spoke up as he struggled to cling to the scrolls in hand.
"My lord, you never stated how many you would want or the damage? We don't have many barbarians still rotting in the cells, but some of our own men could fit the part if properly fitted." The warlord stopped at what stood as his throne room. The chair was simple and made of steel rather than carved wood or gold gilding. In fact the thing looked almost cruel, pitched and pinched as if one had dropped molten metal into frozen water to form such a creation. There was nothing soft about it and it sat in the stone hall with only its matching iron sconces to accent it. He had no need for his hall to be comfortable; he did not intend to hold court. No, he would not let the lapdogs' live lavish lives simply because they were born to wealth. If they wished to lick his boots then they would do it from their hands and knees on the cold stone floor like anyone else.
"Then see it done, so long as it is enough to raise fear among the bordering lands you may unleash it. Do not control the chaos, ride it out my sniveling friend and you shall see just what such magic's can bless us with." The warlord laughed as he turned around and took his seat. Staring almost in disbelief before he finally bowed and took four steps back the rat man quickly scurried out of the room leaving his lord in the empty quiet hall to his thoughts.
In one year's time he would wed the brood mare of Tortall and did not intend on leaving the city till she was with child. The thought of shattering the high strung bitch set fire to his body in ways that would churn most stomach. Of course she'd bend to his every will as she was already molding to suit him from the reports he had. Dressing to sate his appetite and itching every day for the letters and tiny trinkets he would send now and then. Running his fingers through his hair he waited for the door to open again, his advisor's knew him well enough as in slid a young woman that quickly rushed the throne with her eyes downcast. His eyes raked her over though he paid little attention to her face, only her bust and hips while he continued to plot. Curling his finger the woman took another step forward before tensing as his fingers moved to unlace her simple dress. He enjoyed seeing the goosebumps that raced across her skin with just how cold the room was. All the man had to do was look to his knee and she instantly sat upon it while his fingers brushed up and down her soft white flesh.
"My little dear… do you know what is coming?" He asked sweetly as she shook her head. "You can speak, I want to hear your voice."
"N… no my lord." She said sheepishly. The moment the words left her mouth his hand came up with enough force to knock her from his lap and send her flying back onto the floor.
"My liege. I am your high warlord, your future king!" He snarled standing up and walking over to where she lay on the cold gray stone. She scrambled to try and rise to her knee's before he rested his hand on the back of her head. "Well my lovely pet I will tell you." He spoke leaning in to whisper to her ear as his hands traveled her body slowly pushing her down. "First, I'll take tortall's princess like the little whore you are." He laughed as the girl's shoulders pressed into the stone bowing fully to him. "Then, while her father is busy fighting his war against the forces of gaul…" she could hear his belt coming undone then. "My men will march south to reinforce and protect their king and queen, before we take the very castle from them. We will destroy and rape the very land they hold so precious." His words were drown out by her screams as he took what he wanted with force then.
The great hall's door's finally opened to the rat faced advisor two candle marks after he had left his king. He wasn't stupid, neither were the guards that stood watch over the doors and listened to the cries and screams of the young maiden they had sent in. It was the king who strolled out looking as refreshed as if he had slept like a babe. With a smile he patted his advisor on the shoulder.
"We leave in the morning for Tortall, I wish to spend Midwinter with my future queen." The advisor simply nodded as he awaited dismissal to go prepare such. "Also, cut out her tongue and shatter her hands." He said over his shoulder to the two guards who simply nodded and turned to enter the room and do their future king's bidding. The advisor tried not to break into a sweat, he knew the girl heard too much and it was only the king's vanity about his seed that kept her alive.
"I shall let your guard know at once sir." He tried to offer his best smile in which the warlord returned though his was true. "We will be ready to go on your order."
-In Corus, Tortall-
Lianne was already starting to get cabin fever as she sat by her windowsill with Vic nearby on her bed rambling to her. Both women casually were working on a needlepoint in case anyone were to enter the room, but they spoke in hushed tones as they went over that mornings lessons. There would be no riding, or combat that afternoon and already her fingers were feeling the itch to be wrapped around the smooth wooden hilt of her small daggers.
"Lianne?" The red head broke her from her daydream as the girl turned to look at her. "I asked you another way to mask poison as the sweating sickness." She asked gently as the girl sighed and rested her head on her knees to think.
"Um… Rosary Pea?" She asked as the woman perked her brow at the answer. "It's a fairly common seed that women use to make necklaces from after treated right? Well untreated and fresh they are just as glossy, when crushed into a powder it is just as toxic, and ingested a single seed can be lethal. It presents with nausea, convulsions, fever, organ failure, and then death after a matter of a few days." She waited for the woman to tell her she was wrong before all she noticed was a grin from ear to ear.
"Correct, what is another way to slowly introduce it to another person?" She rose then to walk toward the young princess as she stared out over the forest. The entire forest had changed with the fall, looking as if brilliant garnets, rubies, and other precious stones had been tossed out to catch the sun. It also ment winter was coming and so was the princess's betrothed. He had invited himself and his congregation for midwinter and to spend time getting to know his future wife's people, and King Jon could not politely decline so did what he had to do and would great him with open arms.
Tori knew better, she knew the snake the man was and the fact that he was really here to scout out the castle, to find it's weakness's and that of the people so he could roll through the land with little hindrance. The only key sat before her daydreaming of her freedom from her window high up in the keep's royal wing.
"Lip paint. Cover your own set of lips with a layer of bees wax to protect yourself before applying. But there is always a risk with such." Again the heavy sigh as the woman sat down next to her and gently rested a hand to her shoulder.
"You will do fine dear, you need not stress."
"How can I not, everything is riding on me to end this isn't it? To send this damned warlord back to his cold north." She stood then and strode across the room. She was dressed in his colors, the rich emerald green fabric seemed to shift to almost black the moment the light strayed from it. Rich copper embroidering danced across her shoulders, chest and wrists. The riding habit itself was split to reveal black leggings so she could ride like any man and truly give her husband a chase.
"Let's end this lesson and give them all a try shall we? The horns announcing his arrival have been going off." Vic teased the young woman that was so lost in her own thoughts she had not heard the horns announcing her betrothed's arrival. "Perhaps a nice ride into the city, maybe a touch of midwinter shopping." The girl laughed then before rising.
"I suppose we will have to make the best of it. Come, let us go greet my darling husband to be."
-In Gaul-
"What do you mean, they are already planning the wedding!" The king roared. What had started as a quiet council meeting was quickly turned into something that left his adviser's quaking in their boots. Baltasar was normal a calm man, with a gentle smile and playful glint to his eyes. Unlike most men of Gaul he was leaner, built to rush in and move for the quick kill instead of drag it out and toy with his opponent.
"I didn't mean to upset you my lord, but I felt you should know the Warlord already is planning the wedding to Tortall's princess. If plans go his way, he'll wed and bed her before we even see the first flowers of spring." The man that spoke was old and gray, his hair long having fallen from his head though his beard surly made up for the lack there of. His eyes were as white as his beard, and the grip on his cane only further proved the fact of how blind the man was.
"What are we to do then?" The prince spoke up, taking over for his father as the King seemed far too livid to even come to rational thought.
"We must sway the princess to find a way to hold off the wedding. To stagger it somehow till the following summer, if she can then we have the window of opportunity…"
"I thought this is why we sent for their protector old man?" Baltasar finally snarled as he gripped the table, his knuckles white and jaw clenched as he tried to rein in the emotions that raced through him. Everyone in the council could see the muscles in his arm, shoulders and neck corded up and ready to rip if he truly snapped.
"She is only one piece of the puzzle my king. The Protector of the Small will live up to her name, she will awaken our Maiden from her slumber and help to tame that which we thought impossible. But this princess… she must play her part as well and we can only hope she plays it well enough." The man let out a heavy sigh. "Perhaps a Raven, the Protector has friends of high standings. If we can get a message to one then we are in luck." Whispers and nods of approval went around as they rushed to find parchment and quill for the King to scribe a quick message for Kel.
"There is no need for that." A man slid from his guard post then. For a moment everyone in the room's eyes fell toward the simple guard that stood unwavering. "Another already knows of the threat this wedding poses and is handling such."
"What do you mean… handling." Rian spoke up then, arms folded as he looked the man over quickly. "What would a guard know of political affairs and who we send to spy and handle our work."
The whispers turned to loud gossip as it raced across the room only to be silenced as the guard removed his helm. Around his brow he had a brand in the shape of knotwork and ravens. He bowed his head politely as if apologizing for being so outspoken in the chamber room. It wasn't until he rose that the king and his high council seemed to place him. His eyes were like fresh cut jade set in tan skin and black hair that must have fell to his waist as the braid was tucked behind his cloak. Baltasar had only seen the man a handful of times in his life but he knew well enough that this man was consort to his sister in law. He had met no other who had taken the Raven as their calling sign and branded it around their eyes to see the world as they do.
"I can not tell you who I work for, only that my Lady is already seeing to making sure this wedding does not happen as planned. It is with that you must have faith my lord, surely you feel it along with your shamans."
"Feel what?" Rian asked quickly as the council's eyes fell upon Erik, young Ian and the king himself.
"It's… I can't think of how to put it into words." Erik spoke gently as one could see the chill race up his spine.
"The moment we crossed the boundaries with Kel it was as if the wards on our lands began to fade. Like our land was covered in a thick blanket of winters snow and slowly it's been melting. Our worlds changing, you all feel or see it but it doesn't register." Ian finally muttered. "She is waking something ancient from our lands and it's stirring to her."
"She sings a song only the land can hear. Change is coming, and we are powerless against her." Erik placed a hand on Ian's shoulder then hoping to comfort the young man. "We need to ride the wave of change else we be swept out to see with it."
"How, she admitted herself that she was not even god touched." An elder man demanded as his fist came crashing down on the table. "We need more than that to allow such an outsider to hold our clan's fate!"
"Orick of Stoneswake, you have stood beside me when she and her company past. Are you that old and blind you could not see what I saw!" Another man that sat across from him argued as whispers raced between the council. "She is not god touched because she does not need guidance. She walks the path they have set all on her own, something no one has done before. She is the one touching lives, a mere mortal is stirring the heart and faith of men in ways the gods themselves envy. That is why we must give her our faith, hope and love!"
"Enough!" the king's bellow echoed the room as all fell silent then. He held up a hand gently as his men looked to him to lead them. He truly looked his age then, weary and tired from carrying such weight upon his shoulders. "I trust the words of this man, and those of my council. Our world is changing because we –are- leaving our walls and mountains soon enough. Until such a wind can uproot us however we will begin to prepare. I will send missives out to each of your lands to provide resources to begin war preparations. If it comes down to it, we will be ready to crush any who dare try and pass the mountains under our heel god's blessing or not." With that a few roars of men pleased with their king went out as tankards were raised in salute.