Oradea [A Torn Land]

[MacabreFox]

The Anara Desert, it was an expansive, treacherous, and an unforgiving desert dotted with a multitude of oasis'. The Kedi, a native cat species called this desert their home. They were of a nomadic sort, often being looked upon as sly thieves. To reach any of the other nations, one had to travel through the Anara Desert, and pray tell, made it out alive. The journey itself was difficult. Bring too many people, they would drink all of your water. Bring too much water, and you would be overheated from carrying it, in its own irony. Finding a balance was key; essential to survival in fact. Robeline Anovyne-Faeral had made this trip countless times. She was the Captain of the Royal Guard for the Elves. She had returned to her homeland, nigh upon a fortnight, only to be called out to Al-Jebra. Al-Jebra was the largest city in all of the Anara Desert. Although it was a large city, full of intriguing, and rich wonders, it was not recognized by the Articles of Tranquility.
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For over 400 years, until a decade ago, the nations, Valandil, Fimgor, and Ravenknell fought amongst each other, trying to obtain vaulable resources that lay within the others domain. Known to many scholars as the War of Greed, it ended with the three nations signing a treaty with one another. It listed 12 Articles that they must follow in order to uphold the peace on the continent of Oradea. Now, the current king, King Morrigan came to power a decade ago. Refusing to be like the other Kings before him, King Morrigan began to test the waters. He began to rob trade caravans destined to Valandil or Fimgor. Any milita venturing far too close for comfort to Ravenknell were executed. King Morrigan began to violate the Articles one by one. At first, King Cyril and Queen Eyra, the rulers of Valandil, turned a blind eye. King Rorgan of Fimgor finally voiced his thoughts after having a battalion of Ravenknell soldiers slay an entire scouting group within his own territory. Queen Eyra wrote to the King, asking him to abide by the Articles that they had bestowed upon Oradea. Morrigan shot down her proposal and began kidnapping and enslaving all peoples of Oradea. For what reason, that is not known. People began to migrate to Valandil and Fimgor, seeking refuge from King Morrigan's tyranny, looking for sanctuary.
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Now, King Cyril, Queen Eyra, and King Rorgan have called a council in the city of Al-Jebra, where they will meet with others, and discuss the dire situation they find themselves in.
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Captain Faeral, as some have called Robeline, had ventured out alone to Ravenknell, seeking what was occuring. She returned to her King and Queen bearing terrible news. Upon hearing this, they departed for Al-Jebra, with her in their company. That was two days ago, and King Rorgan and his escorts had just arrived in Al-Jebra.
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Earlier that day, Robeline had gone out in the scorching heat and scoured the city, searching for people qualified to attend the council meeting. She had found several, each of a different race. Discreetly, she had made contact with them, bumping into them on the street, holding a polite conversation and the like. While she did this, Robeline had slipped a small note onto their being, asking them to come to the Grand Pavilion when the sun settled near the horizon. There, Robeline would wait for them to arrive before escorting them in to the meeting.
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Robeline waited patiently outside, the sun had slipped lower in the sky. The red-orange horizon seemed warm and pleasant. Here, Robeline kept watch, scanning the large pavilion for any of the people she had ran into earlier that day. She wanted a person from every race to accompany her on their mission. People who could handle themselves in battle, and people who would be essential in their services. She shifted her weight, wearing naught more than a simple white blouse, tan trousers, and simple black boots. Her elongated ears were adorned with various earings, many being studs and hoops, the occasional gem would find its way in. The pavilion was located directly outside the Royal Palace, which belonged to the Kedi King, Ayon. Of course, King Ayon was not a recognized monarch by the Articles of Tranquility. Robeline was the only object in the entire Grand Pavilion, one of the many reasons as to why she chose this place.

[Solace]

"Better be worth my time if my name isn't Varfang Taku Quicksilver..." Cero Vitellius Otho mumbled indulgently at the note he had discovered in his pocket, stating for him to "head to the Grand Pavilion when the sun sets near the horizon" as he walked to nowhere in particular. He had held an interesting conversation with an Elven woman no longer than a few moments previously, of which he suspected the one who had slipped the note in when he wasn't aware. He could determine it just by looking at the fancy handwriting printed on the paper, sighing and shoving it back down his pocket. His forehead beaded with sweat, with his armor not helping any bit with the process. He had been told that the Anara Desert was plentiful in mercenary work, but all he found was sand, and sand, and even more sand. It was a good thing that he'd been slightly prepared, he would have died of thirst if overheating didn't take him first. Cero may have been a strong person, but all people had their limits. Traveling had always been one of his favorite hobbies, but this experience made drove him away from the notion. Heavy armor, large weapon, an inventory that must've weighed over 100 lbs, and an average day in the scorching desert? Not a great combination.

[GrayPerdition]

Azaren couldn't help but smile at his luck; being exotic was not always a bad thing. As the dark elf gracefully made his way through the souk of the Anarian capital, many a curious eye turned his way. Some were wary, and others intrigued (and, of course, there were a few suspicious glares cast his way as well). Azaren slowed to a stop in front of an especially voluptuous storefront, with bright and colorful gew-gaws and trinkets scattered about. He paused a moment, grinning wide as a merchant skirred over to him with a feigned excited countenance splayed across her feline features. He paused his fluid gate and spoke with her about her wares for a moment, the piquant sound of his oratory drawing even more attention. He moved on without a purchase, however, and instead broke out of the heavy flow of foot traffic near the streets and entered the calmer area of the bazaar (not that it was calm in any sense; for a small place, this city was quite agog).

Azaren didn't walk much further until a slender Elven lass, with uncommon bronze skin, stopped him with a furious wave, and hurried over to him with a smile. The colloquy did not contain anything Azaren was not used to hearing, or being asked; mostly about where he had come from and questions of that nature. He excused himself after a moment, but was surprised when the woman tried to slip a small piece of paper unnoticed into one of the pouches on his belt. He frowned once he was passed her, not letting on he had noticed in her presence. The strong build of her shoulders mixed with that attempt at stealth made it quite obvious where that one's strengths had lied.

Azaren pulled the note from his belt pocket with a scoff - such effrontery was not welcome in his eyes. The note was small, and held only a cryptic "Come to the Grand Pavilion at sundown." A huff of breath left Azaren's lung at that; he was not sure he wanted to go to this meeting, or whatever it was, at all. He shook his head at the woman's tactics - though, of course, he realized he had no idea of her intentions. In such dangerous times, one does not usually just head off blindly at another's request.

Sundown arrived quickly, and Azaren decided that, although he trusted not this woman, he would not leave the note unattended. Instead of just charging up to her, he had rented a room in a tavern with a sight of the Pavilion. He sat at his window with the blinds drawn, peering out with a slanted eye. The woman was alone, which was neither a good nor bad thing, and did not seem at ease as she looked around. He couldn't see much more than that. He tapped his 'inked' fingers against the sill in front of him absently, not sure if he was going to go to this meeting or not yet.

With a heavy sigh, Azaren came to the conclusion that his natural curiosity and wanderlust would, eventually, force him to make contact with this woman. He strapped his swords to his hips and slid his glasses over his pointed ears. He looked around the room for anything he may have left behind, and then silently slipped from his room and locked the door. He made his way to the streets, his sensitive eyes having no issue in the diminishing daylight. He took a few streets away from and around the tavern, for safety, and entered the Pavilion from behind and to the right of the elf. He stayed back, waiting again. He scratched at his chin absently; something told him that he wasn't the only person she was waiting for. If he was, why would she want to meet in such an open place? To make it seem safe, sure, but the streets were quite dead at the moment. He leaned against the wall of the shadowed alleyway in which he took shelter, waiting before going any further.

[TheRevolution]

Aiden kept his breathing steady, and his eyes on the woman who's back faced him as she exited the dirty tavern. He knew that she thought she had been stealthy when slipping the note in his pocket. He knew that she believed he was still unaware of it, even as it hid deep in his pocket, just begging to be read. He wasn't unused to getting requests in odd manners like this, it happened every day in his line of work. You couldn't talk about the things you wanted him to do in a crowded place. Aiden waited for her to leave and immediately scrabbled for the note. All it said was "head to the Grand Pavilion when the sun sets near the horizon" in a clean script. He frowned inwardly, but didn't allow his outward expression to change. The Grand Pavilion wasn't somewhere someone like him expected to be. Whatever he'd have to do, it would be big. He could feel it in his bones. He felt a thrill of excitement as he wiped the froth from his mouth and checked to make sure he had his daggers before he left to head off to his destination.

[Lady Branson]

The table squeaked as Astrilde sat down with an exhausted thud causing the used cutlery and crockery to bounce and clang against each other. A couple of drunks on the next table gave her a glance, sniggering slightly. She scowled back at them for a moment then sighed heavily, balancing her shield against the side of the table.
"Well that wasn't so bad. Would've been easier if that blasted merchant didn't get in me way." Astrilde muttered to herself. She gave the bartender a nod of acknowledgement to be served then reached for her pouch to check the map of the city she had earlier purchased from the pestering merchant that had greeted her just outside of the city.

As she pulled the map out with her two stumpy fingers, a neatly folded note spun and fell gracefully onto the floor landing right underneath the stool Astrilde sat upon. She curled herself toward the side and blinked. "What was that?". She reached for the note with some needed effort on part with her bulk frame and unfolded it.
"Head to the Grand Pavilion when the sun sets near the horizon." She whispered the words of the note as she read it. Astrilde looked up toward the orange sunlight piercing through the open window in line of where she sat. She held her breath with curiosity and wonder. "What's this about?" Then she sighed. "Agh. Atleast let me 'av me drink first!"
Readying herself, her equipment and her focus for whatever lie ahead, Astrilde set off in search for the Grand Pavilion.

Patience was wearing thin.

"Where on Oradea is this blasted pavilion? It's not even on this map! That wretched merchant... Grand? Not so grand to me. If it were so grand it-"
A gust of wind blew the map right out of Astrildes grip. "Blast it!" She awkwardly chased for the map flailing her arms and swiping for it each time the wind pulled the map away from her. After about five long, tedious and frustrating minutes, she finally caught up with it. Astrilde run her fingers through her bangs as she looked into the distance. How did the Grand Pavilion become so clear in sight so suddenly? Squinting her eyes noticing an elegant figure too, she dusted herself off and approached ahead.

[skeletalremnant]

He chugged the brew heartily, thankful he had gotten some form of liquid nourishment in his belly. The trip through the desert had been horrifying, within days his supply of food had gone and when he went to chug his canteen he found only dust to touch his lips. For days he scavenged for lizards to eat and cactus to drink, slicing off the tops with his blade and carefully taking a piece of cloth to lift it to his lips. He ran into a few people along the way, some had shared their water and he was thankful, others demanded payment to which he offered quickly and without much thought. somewhere along the way a thief had stolen away his money pouch and the gold with it, leaving him to return to cactus's. he offered the next person his swords and armor just for a sip of water, the kindly gent declined the scrupulous offer and told him to keep his gear, as he may find use for it, instead offering him a canteen of water and pointing him in the direction of a nearby town, just a few days worth away.

"how much?" looking up at the bartender, reaching into his pocket for a piece of paper he felt earlier, hoping it was a piece of currency
"Keep it" placing some bread in front of him " you can pay me back later"
"you wouldnt know the half of it" he pulling the piece of paper from his pocket.

It said to meet at the grand pavillion at sunset. he looked out the window, the sun had began to lower itself, not quite sunset but he was aware he should get going. grabbing the bread he left, leaving the bartender a promise to return.

[Seltak]

Urim's trip through the desert had been unpleasant, but three grown Orcs could carry more than the average human, so his trip wouldn't be a total pain. Though he missed the cold snow dreadfully, the strong visions of a woman on a pavilion for a large counsel meeting that would decide their fate. His companions didn't understand fully, but they had long ago learned to trust his instincts and visions. It took them just under a month to make their travels, during which time they had all lost weight due to rationing their food and water.The sight of the large city was a welcomed one due to this fact, and they set up camp outside the city, preparing their meal and sleeping well for the first time since their travels began.

Before the sun came up the next day, Urim began his training regiment with meditation, as was customary for his company. He always found that a clear mind would help one destroy the obstacles of the day. His mind began to open up to all the elements, as his mother had once showed him. He could not control them, or even read their intentions as she could, but he knew of them, more than most of his clan, or even most living things did. The wind was the most noticeable, and even some humidity higher in the sky. It wasn't uncommon for it to rain in the desert, and by his estimates, in the next week they might see a slight five minute shower.

He felt his mind empty, and suddenly he was watching events like a hawk would view the world. He saw the city of Al-Jebra in its glory, the streets full of people. He watched the run rise and begin to fall, and only as the sun began to set, did the scene change. He was now seeing a woman standing on a pavilion, watching the sun going down, but looking very cautious, very careful. He would watch a few people walk inside before she followed.
Again, the scene would change, to a battlefront, watching armies of men clash against the free peoples of this world. He saw many lost battles, broken people, bickering between the great nations of people. Only when the war was all but over did the free nations band together for one last, grand battle. In the end, they would be defeated, and all would be dark in the world.

As the world darkened, Urim would return to the world of the conscious, covered in sweat and breathing hard. His lieutenants would be staring at him, pulled from their own meditations as Urim's visions became more violent. They had gotten used to seeing Urim like this, because he had been having the same vision for almost two months now. However, seeing their warchief in such a state made them nervous. Shaking off his nerves, he stood, standing only an inch taller than the other two.

"Come, we fight."

For the next several hours, the orcs would use their brute strength against each other in a training regiment that had long been tried and tested by the orcs. Grappling, picking up heavy things, beating the tar out of each other. It was this behavior that scarred anyone that was not an orc, because of it's barbaric nature. How could one beat each other to a pulp as nothing more than an exercise? This was their way, and this is what made them so fierce and powerful.

When all was done, a guard was posted and Urim and one of his men traveled towards the city gates. as they entered, they were asked to leave their weapons by some small looking Kedidians. Deciding to hand them over to avoid an incident, the two orcs walked through the gates and into the city.

"Go trade, get supplies." His words were simple and in orc. A grunt was the only thing received by his companion, and the two separated as Urim began looking around for this pavilion that would be the meeting place. It wasn't hard to find, but he waited for the sun to go down before confronting the she-elf. He had not been given a note, nor had he actually met the she-elf before. Walking up to her, he knew she would be suspicious, because she would have never met Urim either.

"I come, bearing warning." His common tongue wasn't the best, but he could get his point across. "There will be war. You will not unite. You will fall."

He hoped he would get his full meaning. Keeping his eyes on her for a moment longer, he walked inside, joining the others that had come before him.

[MacabreFox]

She had begun to grow doubtful of the people she had chosen. Robeline knew that her note had been rather vague in its script, but that was one of the reasons why she had written such a short letter. It would spark curiosity in some. Therefore they would turn up. As the sky turned darker, like that of spilt blood, Robeline couldn't shake the feeling of someone watching her. She could feel the eyes penetrating her back, burning holes of paranoia through her blouse. Finally, Robeline glanced over her shoulder and gazed into a darkened alleyway that led out onto the pavilion. Perhaps there was someone there, one of the people she had recruited watching from afar.

The first she spotted was a dwarven woman. Robeline rose to her, recognizing her from earlier that day. Standing at her full height, Robeline was a towering 5'8", a typical height for most elven women. Her shoulders were broad and muscular, though not distasteful in anyway. The wind whipped her dark tresses about her face, the white blouse tugging at her torso, hinting at the lean body that lay beneath it. Before Robeline could greet the woman, she saw an orc approach her.

At first, Robeline thought it to be Cero, though she not his name at this time, but when he neared, Robeline could see that she had not met this orc before. In fact, Robeline hadn't passed a note to this fellow. Why would he approach her then? Instantly her question was answered.
She smiled at him, fully informed about how orcs were prone to visions like their elven counterparts were. Robeline opened her mouth to speak to him, "Please, wait here for just a moment." She called out to him hoping he'd turn about and stay with her to wait for the others.

Redirecting her attention, Robeline focused upon the dwarven woman. She held up her hand, as if to catch her attention. "Hail there Dwarf. I see you have read my note." Robeline said with a bright smile as she looked at her. The others had to be on their way to the pavilion soon, the sun was nearly set. The reason why Robeline chose different races was rather simple; she was a very open and accepting person. Contrary to her Elven brethren. Perhaps it was the sole fact that Robeline was one of the few Elves that had spent time in the outside world, away from the Capital, and away from the Naria Forest.

[TheRevolution]

Aiden approached the Grand Pavillion cautiously, searching for any guards that might be watching. Despite expectations, he couldn't see any, but that didn't keep him from keeping his guard up. He didn't enter yet, just stood by the entrance and kept watch for anyone who seemed suspicious. He could see the woman who had invited him here, talking to a dwarfen woman and a lumbering orc. Brute, Aiden thought bitterly. He had an unfounded distrust of orcs, and now he was even more reluctant to enter the pavilion. None the less, his interest had peeked. Why had this woman called such a variety of different people here? He walked cautiously closer, keeping one hand in his cloak, touching the hilt of his dagger warily. "An orc," he called across a moderate distance, keeping back far enough that they couldn't take him off guard. "A dwarf, an elf, and me. What's your game?" He didn't waste any time on pleasantries, cutting straight to the point. The less time wasted here, the quicker he could be gone, and the less time they'd have to stab him in the back. After all, backstabbing was HIS job.