Rise and Fall - IC

[Palamon]

Thesius stumbled into his room, he'd gotten carried away in celebration with some of the other Ederian officers. Moving in a half dance, half slump across the floor, peeling off the layers of clothing that he was wearing.

Finally when he was down to nothing but his linen trousers, he slid himself under the thick comforter in his bed. Nestling down, he thought over the day quickly, quite pleased with himself. He was slightly scared at the idea that was enjoying all this politics, but the thought was cut short by a sudden snore.

[Victorian Style]

Uthum

The ships moved silently up the canal, fifteen in total all bearing the Arvalian flag, at their head drifted twin behemoths, dragging behind them clouds of smoke and steam which covered the following ships in flecks of burnt coal and smog. Ahead loomed the city of Uthum, capital of Edyr. Twin titans rose to either side of the river, yet if the men aboard the vessels gave them any notice they did not show it. The ships chugged onwards before reaching the large, walled docks of the city. Anchors fells and the ships came to a halt, the engines of the two lead boats slowly throbbed to a halt.

The ships floated at dock for a few moments, before suddenly the gangplanks thudded down onto the wharf. Soldiers appeared from nowhere and ran down onto the ground where they promptly formed ranks, weapons at the ready. Arvalians standards rose into the sky and a narrow passage was created leading from the Steamships, where the general would come from. General Havelock Grisham was brother to the King of Arvale, his black hair was slicked back and he wore the regalia appropriated to generals of the military. A blue overcoat, silver chestplate, black trousers and knee-high leather boots, at his side was a sabre which shon in the pre-eminent sunlight rising from the horizon. "Hail! From Arvale!" the man announced loudly to the assembled crowd.

[Palamon]

The large grey warhorse stepped slowly forward down the dockside. Behind it a host of men in large armor followed, a sea of silver gems marching behinds its crown jewel. Prince Torval Utherius II, was the rider, short silver hair moved in the sea breeze. His armor was decorated with gold and silver shaped into stars. As he moved down the dock, he turned his gaze to the mass of Arvalian soldiers that had arrived on their dock. They worse their trimmed uniforms, at its head was presumably the General.

He told his men to halt, and the Prince's horse continued on down the large stone dock. Hooves click and clamped as his neared the ranks of soldiers. He pulled the reigns slightly and turned the horse sideways, then he turned his upper body, and his chiseled hair free face to the Arvalian General, "Welcome friends, to the City of Uthum. I am Prince Torval Utherius the Second." He paused for a moment, a large grin showing across his face. He looked again over the host of troops and then again to the General. "How are you doing today? Did you have a nice trip?"

His horse neighed and shook his head. As the Prince's smile continued.

[Victorian Style]

The General stared at the prince for a prolonged duration, sizing him up, before nodding. "Hail, we come from Arvale to add our forces to yours, Fifteen thousand of the finest troops Arvale can offer are here to maintain our relationship with your great country." The General upon finishing stamped once and drew his blade, dropping to one knee he offered it to the prince. The Flags and standards billowed in the wind, and the last of the steam and smoke was finally drifting away, leaving the platform clear.

There was a loud crash from behind the forces as the Cannons were unloaded from the ship and rolled down onto the ground, five in total. The General however stood there, looking at the prince. "Well? Are we going to move on or wait here all day?" he remarked, a smile still plastered across his face. The sun glared down, and the Arvalians looked most out of place, pale skin and dark hair coupled with their dark armour mingled with the brightness in a stark contrast. As one the Arvalian armed forces marched into parade order, neat lines stretching back towards the lake, weapons in hand they stood at the ready, eager to move.

[DEMoGorgon47]

Uthum; Eastern Harbor

The A.S. Phoenix slowly approached the dock. On the dock men were swiftly lining up in ranks, clearly suspect of the new ship. Captain Leta looked up at the Avarian Flag of Peace, a white flage with a yellow sun upon it, they wished no harm to the Edirians.

The ship bumped the dock, and the sailors fluttered out to tie the ship down. Behind many of the spectators gasped at the sight of the large wings that the Avarians possessed. Quickly the ship was secured, and the gangplank was lowered. Captain Leta walked steadily down, beside her, her first and second mates walked. She walked steadily until she stood about ten feet away from the man who looked as though her was in charge of the men who had lined up. A gust of cold wind blew as both parties stood sizing one another up.

"Hail from Avara," Captain Leta said, her voice resonating through the open air. "I am Captain Leta Shah, here upon his High Chief Rohan Rito's behalf, to seek peaceful relations with the people of Edyr."

[Palamon]

Western Harbor, Uthum

His horse swayed on the dock, and the Prince looked softly at the General for a moment. As he heard the crash behind him, he looked and seeing the cannons his eyebrow raised. The smile on his face continued, but his voice lowered a bit. Then he looked to all the Arvalians as he raised his voice, "Alright then, I am pleased to see so many of you have come, you'll all be most useful. Now to get you settled, follow me and my men, we will lead you to your new place of residence. It is in the inner ring of the city. Follow me!". The Prince pulled on the reigns, turning the horse back towards the city, and trotted off the dock.

He led the Arvalians through the main streets. Curious Ederians peeked out from apartment buildings, and small children followed alongside the Arvalian troops as they marched, mimicking their movements. Housewives waved from the side streets at the handsome foreigners. They crossed through the inner gates, entering the inner ring. They moved down the brick laid streets, crossing over a long marble bridge adorned with tall marble statues.

They came to the gates of a very large building, resembling a small palace. The Prince turned to the General and his men, "Welcome to your embassy General." The gates to the embassy opened and visible from there it was possible to see the large fountains of the main courtyard, the exotic clanswomen mistresses moving about the outside of the embassy, wearing little, but silken skirts.


Eastern Harbor

Captain Artilus grimaced as the beast stepped forward. It spoke in a strange tongue and it's large wings made it hard to look at. "Cleric this beast is trying to communicate. Get it stop before I make it." His hand held steady at his hilt, staring the creature down. The short stubby Cleric chimed in without a beat, "Uhh, Greetings... um bird-man do you understand me?". Cleric Pook tried first in Ederian, and then tried in other know languages. He picked the book of languages from his belt and tried in several other languages aswell, including Frissen and Amerzon. He stood staring at the bird people, not knowing what else to do as he waited for a reply.

[DEMoGorgon47]

Uthum: Eastern Harbor

Leta grimmaced at the site of such a pathetic human. She had seen few humans in her life, namely those of the Rasalhague tribes to the north. But they all had a noble quality to them, something reminisant of the eloquent elves and an air of honor about them. These humans, with their silver hair and pompous attitudes, she could see why Avara had avoided contact for so long.

The small man continued to bumble on, trying to make contact. It was clear he did not know Avarian, and while Leta did not know his native tounge, she heard small boutes of both Amerzonian and Frissen. Leta sighed, this human could barely speak, it was an insult to her.

This time, speaking in Amerzonian-- as it was clear that is what the man spoke best -- she said, "Hail from Avara. My name is Captain Leta Shah. I am here upon his High Chief Rohan Rito's behalf to seak out peaceful relations with the land of Edyr."

[Palamon]

Artilus's head cocked and his eyebrows raised. He understood the beast this time, of the sword at his waist eased. Instead now his hand moved up to behind his helmet as he scratched the back of his neck, he made a gesture to the Cleric and spoke quietly in Ederian, "It spoke Amerzonian cleric. What do we do?". "Shhh, I'm going." snapped the Cleric quickly.

Pook hesitated for a moment then began, "I uh, Welcome? It is a noble goal you speak of, ehh peaceful relations, but I uhh." His voice dropped off. Clearly the men felt uncomfortable around the Avaran, and the soldiers behind them grew uneasy, gripping their weapons tightly. Artilus nudged the Cleric giving him an uneasy look. The sun beamed down on the odd group standing on the dock, Pook picked up again, "I think it would be best if, you well... left." A look of fear crossed his face, and he looked to the Captain. Artilus used his left hand to undo a strap on his back, the strap of his warhammer, but he did not draw it. It was a precautionary measure.

While the group spoke to one another, a man in chain mail and a leather Jerkin rowed a small boat unnoticed out of the dock.

[Victorian Style]

The Streets of Uthum.

The Parade marched onwards through the great capital. However none could repress the awe they felt as the civilians cheered, some soldiers even removed their helmets and placed them upon the heads of the children marching next to them. Flowers rained down on them as they passed underneath an ornate bridge lined with spectators. A select few of the soldiers grinned cheekily as maidens ran out and planted kisses on their cheeks. At the head of this rode the General upon his jet black Destrier which had come with them for the trip. Lord Havelock Grisham was a giant of a man, stoutly built he was atheletic and strong. His favoured weapon was a sabre, which he kept at his side. His face was lined with a mixture of scar tissue and laughter-creases and his hair was pitch black and slicked down.
Various medals were pinned to his breast, the brass gleaming in the bright sunlight.

The General himself was near blinded by the light in the city, the sun blared down -which all Arvalians were not used to, being from a clouded and dark country- however he gasped upon seeing the veritable palace which served as their embassy, already their flag fluttered from a pole set upon the walls. as the gates opened and his soldiers marched on inside... some into the arms of the awaiting mistresses' he remained behind, with the prince. "Well.... that went well" he chuckled, giving the prince another sidelong look. "I trust you will find these men quite useful and if there's anything you need of me, you only need ask."

Arvale; Shindra's plot.

Shindra's plot was a small hamlet Twelve miles east from the city of Albion, it had a population of near one hundred and was an important farming town. The town was usually quiet, nestled in the highlands, and separated from all major sources of industry by an almighty pine forest. Life here was generally calm, occasionally visitors from neighboring towns came to visit and sell their wares, pots and pans mostly, however some sold delicacies and the smell of cooking treats filled the clean air.

Johnathon Brackwell awoke with a start. The house was quiet and the air was filled with the soft mumble of snoring. It was early in the morning and the sky had not yet brightened. Outside the quiet pitter-patter of rain could be heard as it splashed against the windows. Johnathon looked around dumbfounded as to why he had been awoken, before suddenly a rumble of thunder sounded across the sky, he had his reason. Getting out of bed he threw on the scruffy clothes from yesterday and stretched, splashing his face with water from the nearby basin he moved out into the dining hall of his home.

He devoured some fruit which he found in one of the cupboards and moved over to the table in the center of the room, upon it was yesterday's paper. Upon the cover of the paper was the Prime Minister grim face, staring out at him, a good likeness considering it had been hand drawn and printed countless times. 'News was always slow to reach here' He thought himself as he spat out the pip of the plum he had just finished.

A loud smash from the back of his house startled him, followed by a scratching from the door leading out into the garden and summarily the woods beyond.
His father ran into the room, gun in hand. "What was that?!" He exclaimed, shaking and in his sleeping gown. "-I don't know!" Johnathon replied tersely, fear causing him to stammer. The man moved forward, toward the back window, and stared out. Nothing, was all that he could see only the outlines of tree's in the distance, he moved to the door and opened it, stepped outside and vanished with a scream as his gun went off, backfiring and taking his fingers off, then the creature was upon him. Quite suddenly the screams started elsewhere, and only when the dark shadow crashed through the door, did Johnathon know; it was over.

[Palamon]

The Prince was delighted as he saw the faces of the Arvalian soldiers, and even the General's smile. "Well, sir, I have to say it was a pleasure meeting with you. I hope you find the accommodations to your liking." He smiled again watching as some of the soldiers entered the building of worldly delights.

He held his smile steady, the sunlight gleaming off his short silvery hair, "General.. I may have need of you in coming days, I don't need to get into now, but I believe that you and your men will be of great value." With that he gave a nod to the General, and pulling on the reigns again he trotted off, followed by his host of Imperial Guards.