*Forest Ambience

**The Devoted - FE10 OST

***Burning Ambition - FE9 OST

****Moonfrost Fae - Derek Fietcher

*Whether by chance or design, the Nohrians had a reputation as something of a superstitious people- from things as mundane and diverse as trees over a certain height to donning green clothing at births, weddings, or funerals. Needless to say, around many an army campfire, heated discussions were had over the truth of a mysterious savage band terrorizing their troops. And in a certain, heavily-forested region of Hoshido's west, tonight was little different:

"Oh, come on! You can't really believe there's a phantom peasant army of savages stalking the countryside?! It's the army version of an old wives tale!"

"Agreed. This nonsense will end once we show the savages who the real masters of this continent are."

"I don't know, you guys. There wouldn't be so much talk of it were there nothing to it."

"Whatever the case is, you can't ignore that these forests are kind of...creepy at night."

Finally, one of their number had, one way or another, enough of his fellows and their fruitless debates. "Come on!" he implored, climbing atop a nearby boulder. "You know they can smell your fear, right?"

"Klausen, get down from there." came the bored voice of the commander. "You're not helping anything."

Klausen's nose wrinkled at this command, as though some how offended by it. "Come on, commander! You can't really believe this stuff too! There's nothing to be worried about, it's just-"*

At these words, an arrow lodged itself in Klausen's throat, silencing the braggart for good, the telltale sound of countless arrows being knocked and loosed. **"We're under attack!" cried one of the men, scrambling for his shield to little avail.

"That would be why!" groaned the commander.

From what tell he'd heard of the survivors of their assaults, the strength of this so-called "Black Band" came from their propensity to strike under the cover of darkness and withdraw into the nigh-impenetrable forests. Of course, this was to say nothing of the arrow volleys, one of which currently playing havoc with and ending the lives of several of his men. "On me!" he roared. "Form up a shield wall!"

Needless to say, this particular unit, perhaps even more so than its fellows in the area, struggled mightily to carry out this command.

"My shield! I can't find my shield!"

"My spear arm! They got me!"

"Where in the Seven Hells is everyone?!"

Nonetheless, the unit and stragglers from the nearby camps managed to form some semblance of a defensive line, the what shields that could be found in the darkness up and preparing for another deadly volley or one of the infamous charges from the deep woods. "Oh, what now?!" groused the commander, his instincts toned enough to notice something amiss even in the chaos of battle.

"Where's the charge? Or the arrows?!"

"They're coming at us from above!"

"How?!"

An answer to this very pressing question was shortly received in several pegasi swooping down from above the treeline, the riders taking care to first spear any archers or obvious givers of orders. Including a very certain commander, shortly losing consciousness from the shock and impact from the wound to his back.**

Obviously facing east, due to the morning sunrise in his eyes, once the commander came to, he looked around, wound on his back still stinging. Of course, he was (as far as he could see) the only survivor of the ill-fated ambush. And his managing to pull himself a few paces did little in the way of convincing him otherwise. If only he could make it to the storehouse, he thought. Surely, there he could call for help!

Groaning in pain as he inched forward, over his own injuries, the commander could make out two voices, apparently in conversation with one another.

"The banner is raised and our casualties are both taken care of, milady."

"Cool."

"Do you have any additional orders, ma'am?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. If we can't take it-"

"Oh, of course!"

Hoping against hope for any fellow survivors as he inched his way to the storehouse, the commander was very abruptly and painfully stopped by a boot in his back, its owner apparently taking care grind his heel into the wound. "Oh, hey there." came the voice's owner. "So we DID have one alive after all."

"Lady Setsuna!" cried one of the mages. "Everything is set!"

Setsuna smiled blankly, an ever-so-slight hint of darkness behind it. "Perfect."

The commander found his hopes dashed as their main storehouse burst into flame- even though he knew fully well he was not escaping this situation alive- it somehow represented a loss of hope somehow.

"You mentioned a survivor." spoke one of the adjutants, drawing his blade. "Shall we deal with him?"

The absentminded archer shook her head, grinding the heel of her boot into the soon-to-be-fatal wound for good measure. "Nah, leave him."

***"What?!" Leonard exclaimed. "They did what?! This is an outrage!"

"It seems so, milord." lied Matteo gravely. "It seems the delegation from the Ice Tribe savages was little more than an assassination ploy."

Down on bended knee, Pietro, while invisible to both his king and technical superior, could not help but manage a wicked smirk. Matteo had mentioned in an offhand comment that the documentation- correspondence with the Hoshidan beasts, a list of priority targets, and so on- were all forgeries and he didn't care a whit. No, he was finally overjoyed to have, in his grasp, a chance at ending the insects that had made his life hell for decades. "Your Majesty, I agree." he began obsequiously. "This cannot be allowed to go unpunished. I volunteer myself to carry out this punitive expedition."

The king nodded. "Very well." he conceded, taking one of the ceremonial tridents, tapping Pietro on both shoulders. "I, King Leonard of Nohr, grant you, Sir Pietro, full plenary power to do as you see fit in protecting the homeland- both from infiltrators and outside threats."

The horseman was almost bursting with wicked glee. "Of all the honors I've received, this is truly the greatest, Your Majesty. I shan't fail you."

"Good. See that you don't."

Unusually silent for such a loquacious man, Matteo spoke up at last. "By the by, Your Grace- about one of your enemies- one not so easily gotten rid of..."

His personal code and devotion to the mysterious goddess would not allow Paul the temptation of the wine he was offered, requesting water from Valerian's servants in its stead. Nonetheless, he still otherwise maintained that amiable sort of charisma that had allowed him to accrue so many devoted (some would say fanatic) followers. "Truly, Valerian, you have been too kind to me." he said. "I had expected an emergency with how urgently you'd summoned me."

Tapping the fingers on his left hand against the serving tray nervously at his servants' late appearance, the lord of the manor chuckled just as. "Well, what isn't an emergency these days?" Valerian inquired.

"True enough, my friend. True enough."

Shifting nervously in his seat, Armando spoke next. "Are the refreshments to your liking, Paul?" he inquired, some combination of guilt and cowardice tinting his words. "I know it was something of an improvised get-together, but-"

"Trust me, everything is fine, Armando."

One of the most enthused co-conspirators spoke next. "But we actually had a special guest of honor in mind for tonight." said Marius, glancing sideways out the window and his men lying in ambush.

Valerian snapped his fingers, leading his servants to close ranks around the entrances to the foyer. Perhaps with some inkling with what was coming, Paul shot up from his seat, wearing a confused expression, only to be surrounded by his six fellows. "What is the meaning of this?" he inquired.

"Apologies, Sir Cornilescu." said Junius, some true regret in his tone. "But we had no other choice."

With these words, his dagger found itself lodged inside Paul's abdomen, his vain attempts at escape or self-defense blunted by a storm of iron, their daggers' points reaching everywhere from Paul's thigh to his neck. With most of his vitality robbed from him, Paul nonetheless managed to force himself to his feet once more, only to lose heart at the one remaining member of the conspiracy stepping forward. "You too, Iuda...?" he inquired balefully.

"Yes." replied Iuda grimly, brandishing his dagger. "I as well."

Perhaps rather appropriately, the final blow dealt to their troublesome colleague was through the chest cavity. With this blow, Paul collapsed to the bloodied floor for the final time, his lifeless body splayed helplessly.

"Well...it is done." remarked Cassius. "Now to figure out what exactly we do with him."

"By no means, is it over." Armando replied heavily. "In fact, I daresay it's only just begun."

The return of their chief's daughter to their homeland should have been a joyous occasion for the Ice Tribe, not least of which for the daughter in question. Nonetheless, as a woman with much on her mind and a task to undertake, Flora could muster little, if any, joy. At their dwelling, Flora greeted her father for what would turn out to be the final time before he departed on his evening walk. Even the cozy, crackling fire seemed to be passing judgement on the pair.

"I'm just saying," began Florian. "people would expect this from me. You're absolutely sure?"

Flora nodded resolutely. "Yes, I won't pass this infamy onto you." she confirmed equally so. "Knowing what I know now, if I can't do this myself...then I have no business leading my people."

"Fair enough. Just remember- the offer is still open."

Chief Klima, was, perhaps unsurprisingly, a creature of habit. It was therefore little surprise that his evening walks would take him along a predetermined path. Flora had instructed her man to take the leftmost path so that he would encounter the chief first while she took the opposite route. With their age working for them rather than against, it did not take long for Florian to overtake the chief.

"Oh, it's you." he remarked, most unamused. "Come to tell me again about how wicked King Leonard and his kingdom are?"

"It's not like you would listen anyway, chief." Florian snapped back. "But no, I come to you one last time- begging you to reconsider. Surely, you must know about the tribes joining forces with the Hoshidans- the fire and wind temples have both already fallen and-"

"Fools." he remarked bluntly. "Throwing in their lot with a doomed realm."

While he had made a point of controlling his temper before this specific meeting in particular, Florian's nostrils nonetheless flared at this. "At least they ARE fighting."

"Come now! What would you really have me do, Florian?! Throw away the lives of our people- our very existence- on some damnfool crusade against the greatest kingdom and its greatest king?!"

Grasping Florian's cheeks and chin in frustration, the chief sighed. "Why couldn't you just be more like Bela? He understands. He-"

Reflexively pushing him away, Florian's eyes widened at the sight of the figure behind him- she actually, truly was going through with it.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Father."

****With this, a ball of searing, flesh-rending flame struck the chief in right side of his upper back, the force of the impact knocking him to the ground. Using what remained of his strength to pick himself up slightly to face his attacker. "Flora...why?" he rasped.

Kneeling down beside her father, Flora explained. "I'm sorry, Father, but for the good of the tribe...I didn't have a choice."

Even for a man who had seen more than his share of suffering and death, for whatever reason, Florian found witnessing the Klima take his final breaths somehow more disturbing than usual. Of course, the likely reason behind this was the fact he knew such a course of action was consuming his lady and his powerlessness to do anything about it save for closing the late chief's eyes- as though he were merely asleep.

Flora sighed heavily. "It's done." she remarked. "I've committed probably the worst crime to save my people."

Knowing fully well that any attempts to comfort her would be brushed off, the champion made an exaggerated, nervous swallow. "So what are your orders...chief?" he inquired.

"Leave me. Go to the temple and help them shore up its defenses. Prepare our people for war. We haven't a second to lose. I'll take care of things here."

"Understood."

Of course, Flora did have an ulterior motive for sending away her champion, so as not to witness her weeping- over the very real fact that she had, whatever her motive- destroyed what remained of her family by her own hand.****