Torin Hellsong

Raya T'mivus Kasari Liesma

The night had not been boring, to say the least, although Torin would be the first to admit that in the heat of the moment he may have gotten a little carried away. As dawn broke he woke before Raya, and as he traced his fingers over the sleeping woman beside him he could feel the slight change in the texture of her skin where he had bruised her, particularly on her neck. It entered his mind that he might have her again, and his arm tightened around her. But then, there would be plenty of time for that later, and she seemed so exhausted already. He thought of everything she must have gone through already, and decided it would be better for her morale if he didn't ask too much from her too quickly. Instead, he kissed her face, then rose from the bed. The air was cold and Torin muttered a curse under his breath. He couldn't wait to leave this dreadful place.
- - -

It wasn't long before Torin's party was prepared to depart. The letters written by Kasari and Raya the previous night were given to two of Torin's men, who departed from Shadow Worth on the east road toward Gemminia, whilst the rest of them turned to the west and home. The ride back was not comfortable, but at least there was plenty of room for the four of them--Torin, his sister, and new wives. Tyrai had spoken very little since the morning, and her mind seemed to be elsewhere as Torin told his brides what they ought to expect once they arrived. Mostly this information had more to do with the culture and the people, and he made it perfectly clear that he expected them to pay tribute to the Hellsongs' patron gods, adding that they of course had the freedom to worship any of the other Drakken gods as well.

The Hellsong Estate, as it is had come to be known, was built on a very geographically favorable location. Travelleing south along the mountainous spine that separates Drakka from Gemminia there is a string of smaller mountains that branch out into the Western Desert near the coast, creating a sheltered hollow about a hundred leagues in diameter. Historically known as "The Rothfeld Keep" it has since been renamed "The Valley of Zor" after Tararch Hellsong took control of it a hundred years earlier, in honor of his wife's patron goddess Zoralia. It is surrounded by mountain peaks on two fronts, harsh desert on the third, and the forth being the Southern sea. The dramatic contrast in landscapes afforded the party some very beautiful sights over the course of their journey. All but Torin, that is.

The countryside was dotted with farms and villages, all of which appeared to be thriving. Zor had six major cities that served as trade hubs. Of these, two were port cities with the other four all residing along the border. Torin's control over all of this was simply inherited from his father when he died. Although where Tararch had left trading posts, Torin had built businesses and converted simple street merchants to factory owners. Though he did not personally preside over every settlement, those whom he had appointed to govern were loyal to him. Torin himself lived in Riesling, the city of his father, and the oldest one in Zor. It was situated just so that when one stood on the wall one could look to the north and see mountains, to the west and see desert, to the east and see plains, and to the south and see the ocean. Approaching Riesling it was obvious that the architecture predated Tararch by at least five hundred years judging by the Gothic design. Age, it seemed, had not weakened the fortress, although some sections of the wall were under construction, not because they needed maintenance but to improve their functionality.

As the carriage entered the city the townsfolk stopped whatever it was they were doing to hail them. People lined the street leading up to the ancient castle, calling out blessings as they passed by, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever it was their lord had returned with. It was curious to note that every man appeared to be armed. Whether he was a merchant or a smith or a stable hand. Each one of them carried a sword strapped to his belt. By the time they reached the gates of Riesling Castle's courtyard a small crowd had gathered, buffered by a line of several dozen guardsmen. It seemed that Torin was a very popular nobleman, but it was not only he who was a celebrity but Tyrai as well. They stepped down from the cab and out into the open and several people cheered and called out to them. Torin raised a hand in greeting and Tyrai merely nodded her head, but the acknowledgement was enough for their audience. They turned and the guards moved to escort them inside along with Raya and Kasari, but a sudden angry shout made Torin hesitate. A woman had pushed her way past the guards and was running frantically toward them, clutching a large bundle in her arms. She was elderly, with gray hair and dark creases under her eyes.

"My lord!" she gasped, falling to her knees before Torin who did not turn around. Two guards moved to grab her and drag her away but Torin raised his hand and they ceased, casting uneasy glances at one another. "My lord," she said again, her voice shaking. She pushed the bundle in her arms toward him. It was a child, no more than four years old at most, dressed in rags and shivering. "My lord, please. His parents succumbed to illness. I am old and can no longer care for him properly. Please, my lord, won't you be merciful to this child?"

At last Torin turned to face her. "Woman, do you think the house of Hellsong is large enough to be home to every orphan in Zor? Send him to his relatives so that they may do their duty by him."

"He has none, my lord," the old woman said in a pleading tone, "Please, take him. Just until he's old enough to become an apprentice. It won't be many years, he's already a bright child."

The silence hung between them for several long seconds. Then several onlookers gasped as Torin knelt to the ground and touched the boy's face. "What is your name?"

The boy, who was staring wide-eyed at the nobleman's mask managed to tell him, "Jaan, s-s-sir."

"Very well, Jaan." He lifted the child into his arms and stood, to the delight of the townsfolk who cheered and applauded him. The woman thanked him profusely and allowed herself to be led away. He carried the boy inside and, once they were out of sight of the crowd, handed him off to one of the guards. "Introduce him to the others. I will address them at dinnertime." The guard nodded and spirited the boy away. Tyrai announced she was going to retire and left them.

"Raya, Kasari, I welcome you both to my home. I would be honored if you would call it yours as well." He ushered them into a large hall which was currently filled with several dozen people, the servants of the household. They bowed collectively to welcome home the master of the house as well as his new brides. Many of them, especially the female servants, appeared to be of Gemminian heritage, but there were others who must have come from elsewhere, and even a handful of Drakken. "Lissa, Arealle." Two maidservants stepped forward. "These will be your personal servants," he said to the two Gem brides, "They'll see you to your rooms and make sure you're comfortable. You'll have to excuse me for the time being-- there is some business I must attend to. I'll give you both a tour later, but until then the servants will help you get wherever you need to go."

With that, he left them. The rest of the household staff dispersed but the two women who had been appointed to assist the girls remained. Lissa was a kind-looking middle aged woman, Arealle was younger and short with rounded features. They both curtsied to Raya and Kasari before showing them to their personal rooms in the east wing of the castle. Each room was spacious and richly furnished and each included a full wardrobe. Lissa informed them that any article of clothing could be tailored to better fit the girls if need be. Baths were drawn for both of them and after that they were left to their own devices until Torin returned.

@WeepingLiberty@my Lalia
(Feel free to puppet the servants around, they're all NPCs)

Bride to Krone; Sister Bride to Kaelira

Kalani felt herself a lot more comfortable in the drab-looking night gown she was given, though she was disappointed at how ugly it was. She got herself in the bed next to her husband, feeling a bit shy, despite the fact that she knew that he wasn't going to do anything to her. She felt him gently playing with her hair, and though he might not notice, it made her smile. Eventually he had fallen asleep so she turned, gazing at his face for a moment or two; she did not know for how long she did this. It was not necessarily because she was in love with him (it was too early for that), but as he slept, he looked peaceful, almost vulnerable. He was not as scary as he was when she first came to meet him, and that was only a few hours ago.

She turned her back towards him again, doing her best to fall asleep. But then she started to think about Kaelira, her sister-bride. What was going to happen to her? What would she be like once she returns? Will she finally behave? Millions of questions went through Kalani's head, her hands unconsciously rubbing the ring that was not rightfully hers. She did not want to think about it anymore, so she stopped. Now was the time for sleep anyhow, so sleep.
-----
The next day, they made their way back to Krone's estate as Kalani shared a carriage with her sister-bride. Kalani did not know what to say to the poor girl who looked all beaten and bruised. Though she had never had the chance to talk to her sister-bride before, so perhaps now was a good time to start. They were both Gems after all, these times were tough, and they will probably be spending the rest of their lives together anyways. It was better to be friends than enemies at each other throats all the time.

"Good morning Kaelira," Kalani said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. "I am sorry about what happened last night..."

She was going to say more, but she did not want to sound like she was lecturing her. There will be a better time for that once the girl was well again, if that ever were to happen.

Regardless of whether Kaelira responds, somehow the conversation fell flat and the rest of the ride remained in silence. Thankfully, they have arrived, and a few of Krone's men had helped them out of the carriage.

The estate was large and beautiful, from what Kalani saw of it so far. They were in the courtyard presently, and she wondered how much freedom they would have to roam around the place. She was quite pleased with all of it until they came across Krone's other wives. Kalani should have suspected as much, but she did not think that he would have a Drakken wife. Their marriage was more likely one filled with love, unlike hers as she is simply a prize. Still, she kept her head held up high despite how Milligan, she learned, was eyeing her and Kaelira.

Did she feel threatened by them?

Kalani could not help but smirk at the thought of that. She didn't think the Drakken woman had anything to fear. Kaelira was not planning on playing nice anytime soon, and Kalani had no intention of vying for Krone's love and attention; she simply wanted the safety of her family. Well, she would be lying if she did not admit that she was fond of Krone but that easily could only be because she was grateful for him. "Pleasure to meet you, Cia, Milligan," she said with a curtsy. "I hope we will all get along splendidly."

Bride to Torin; Sister bride to Raya

Kasari had spent most of the night pacing around the main room, shifting her attention between the décor and the fireplace. Every time it looked about ready to die, she would breathe new life into it, smiling as she felt its warmth kiss her skin. The draft was equally powerful, however, not warming the space for long before the heat was stolen away. This didn't deter her though, and she kept up with the activity until she noted the lightening of the sky. Still too anxious to sleep, Kasari let herself out onto the balcony to watch the sun rise. She sat perched on the barrier between solid floor and empty space, a fall that would kill instantly. It was there she remained, swinging her feet over the void, until she heard her husband stir in the room behind her.

Once everyone had awoken and things had been packed away the group made their way out of the dreadful building and into a carriage, finally on their way "home". As soon as the carriage was on the move, Kasari felt fatigue set in, struggling to remain awake as Torin explained what was expected of them as well as what to expect when they arrived. Eventually Kasari could no longer remain conscious and drifted into slumber, head rested against the wall beside her. She managed to sleep solidly until they reached the city, voices pulling her from her slumber and back to reality as they called out to the lord and his sister. Groggily she wiped the sleep from her eyes and covered her mouth with the back of her hand as she yawned silently.

As they rolled through the town she marveled at the architecture, impressed by its apparent age and immaculate upkeep. She hated to admit it, but she had ended up in a beautiful place. Even the people seemed to be sociable, and she ended up wondering to herself if she'd ever have the chance to wander among them. She was jarred from her thoughts as the carriage came to a stop, depositing the group before the crowd. Waiting silently as the elderly woman pled her case to Torin, watching with anticipation for his reaction. It would have been a lie to say she wasn't surprised by the outcome, feeling that something was off with his agreement as they finally made their way inside. As she suspected, the kid was quickly handed off to a guard to be taken to an unknown art of the large estate. She doubted she would ever see the boy's face again.

Her attention was recalled as Torin addressed her and her sister wife, calling forth two women who would be their personal servants. She shivered at the thought, weird to be waited on instead of taking care of herself. Nodding her understanding to her husband, she waited respectfully for him to leave before following Lissa and Arealle to the wing of the castle they'd be living in. Their rooms were beautiful, much prettier than she had ever imagined existing in the Drakken country. She hoped other brides from her Reaping had made it to good homes as well, shuddering at the thought of them chained up in dungeons. Pushing the negative thoughts from her mind, Kasari hopped into the bath with a grateful sigh. Taking her time, she soaked for quite a while, not emerging until all the muscle aches from travel had dissipated. Once she had emerged she made her way to the wardrobe, trying to figure out what she wanted to wear. After a few minutes of deliberation, she decided to dress lightly and pulled a few articles from the wardrobe. She wrapped the securely around her bust, folding expertly so it would not shift but was also fashionable. Then she slid on a short wrap around skirt that hugged her body tightly, the translucent train billowing out behind her. Pleased with her flame colored outfit, Kasari fixed a ruby broche to the front of her top and wrapped a thin, translucent cloth around it into a decorative shoulder piece that ran up around her neck before being allowed to hang down her back. She did little with her hair but pulled the front back neatly, allowing the bulk to hand free but keeping it out of her face. Satisfied with her appearance, Kasari exited the room curiously.

@Raxacoricofallapatorius@my Lalia

Bride of Torin Hellsong, sister bride to Kasari Liesma

To say that Torin was a decent lover would be an understatement. Raya was surprised at how gentle he was at first but that gentleness didn't last too long, as soon as he figured she could handle it he let go of his reins. But she had no problem keeping up, she simply kept the idea that she was in the forest and had no need to be polite or civil. She was allowed to be her untamed self. She did pray to the Great Mother that her sister bride Kasari didn't hear them, as that would be rather embarrassing.

Raya was roused slightly from her sleep as she felt arms wrapped around her tighten slightly. She had to remember who was hugging her as her sleepy mind was hazy and she had a hard time connecting the dots. But it suddenly came back to her that she was in bed with a Drakken and they had spent a night together. If she was in her right mind she would of been horrified, but she was too exhausted to really feel anything. When Torin got out of bed she slept another ten minutes before her body suddenly woke though her mind was still sleepy. As she moved she felt stiff and soar, as she got out of bed she went over to a mirror that was next to the door. She looked at her naked body and saw the number of bruises she had, the worst were the ones on her neck. She made a note that Torin was a biter.

.....

In the carriage little was said other than Torin telling them what to expect from the people and what expected of them. What bothered her the most was that she wasn't allowed to worship her patron goddess. A part of her knew that she would defy that rule, while the other part of her knew that it was a horrible idea. After giving them most of the details the carriage became quiet again. Which she was thankful for, as she didn't wish to talk or listen. She simply watched the country side change, it looked so different from her homeland. What she noticed the most was the lack of forests an the ones that they did pass looked dark and unkind.

As the hours passed away Raya began to feel restless. She was feeling caged and she desperately wanted out, she wanted to run, to feel the earth under her feet and the sun on her skin. The dress she was wearing was beginning to feel unnatural and restricting. She was unsure if the two Hellsongs could sense her growing restlessness, but she no longer cared.

When they finally reached Torin's estate she was greatful. She was rather surprised to see her husband greeted by so many, she expected indifference at best and uncivilized brutism at worst. She could feel the eyes of many on her, instead of trying to hide she stood tall her eyes daring anyone to challenge her. She knew she wasn't as strong as the Drakkens but she was quick and held abilities that many didn't know she had.

She found it odd that Torin accepted the child even though it was evident that he didn't really want to. But it was nice to know that he was merciful to those he ruled over. Once inside and the child taken away she wondered how many children had taken in. As she knew that Drakkens could claim children as their own if they wanted to. Though that privilege was held by Drakken nobility. Did he really claimed so many children as his own? Even without a wife? That was nearly unheard of even by Gemminite standards. But what ever the case she was surprised by his actions.

Raya was only half listening to Torin as her mind was running away with wild thoughts, that was before the maid came up to her. She gave the maid a confused look, never had she been cared for like this. Well except maybe as a child, but since she was old enough to run free she had taken care of herself. She gave a quick look at Kasari and could see that she was just as uncomfortable with the idea as she was. Regardless though she followed the maids to the wing that held their rooms. She was very grateful for the bath that was waiting for her, as the warm water felt like heaven on her soar and aching muscles from her night with Torin. After spending a good hour in the tub she came out feeling renewed.

With her spirits on a high again she went over to the closet and was a little overwhelmed by the selection of dresses, all of which were far from her normal clothes. She knew that she was to impress Torin and those of his house, but her husband was blind and she cared little for those who served him. Well she cared for Kasari, but that was the only one whom she really cared about. Instead choosing one of the dresses she chose two, one had a skirt that only went up to her knees and was less full than the others. The other dress had a corsetted top that almost looked like a breastplate, both were similar in color and so would go well together. Taking apart the dresses and putting together the parts she wanted, it took her just under an hour to put them together. Once dressed she went over to a vanity and redid her hair, she then went through the drawer and found some makeup. But instead of making herself look beautiful she placed marks below and above her left eye. She looked exotic, not in the sexual sense but more in the "never seen before" sense.

She wanted to run but she had to refrain from doing so, no matter how bad her wildness demanded otherwise.

Kaelira Isrilen

Sister-wife of Kalani Solle, Bride of Krone the Scream Taker

Kaelira refused to speak to the other girl, not even looking at her. Actually, she didn’t want to speak at all.

She sat still for much of the ride; when at last they came to Krone’s estate, she stepped out and stood still beside him. The chains chafed at her wrists and ankles and made walking difficult. So she just… waited.

She listened as Milligan and Cia were introduced; she refused to say anything. She met the Milligan’s eyes for just a moment. Then Cia’s eyes. Measuring them up.

Krone had banked on the fact that the ordeal would break her resistance. But he did not realize just how resilient Water gems could be. So, for the moment, though she put on a good act, she was unbroken. The carriage ride had been enough time to put herself mentally back together, though the bruises and other damage done physically would linger for weeks.

She sighed softly, taking note of Krone’s son. He had three sons. That he obviously loved, by the tone of his voice. Maybe… no, she pushed the thought out of her mind. She couldn’t do that.

Well, not yet, anyway.

---

Astaelin Cassiel

(former) Sister-wife of Atallia Faeron, (former) Bride of Edokaluriconus Nordiere

Oh, what a joy it was, riding hard again. Vain was a good horseman, able to keep a blazing-fast pace that Asta herself was hard-pressed to match.

At about two hours past midnight they crossed the top of the Spine; the watchtowers there dark and deserted. The Drakkens were moving fast.
But the Gems would be faster.

The sun was not yet risen when the horses galloped past the gated castle entrance; Asta couldn’t waste time talking to the queen. Not when the Drakken were on the move already.

Within an hour of passing the castle, just as the sun started to rise, they were in Asta’s home village, since they could ride faster on the relatively flat roads of Gemminia. No one was out on the cobbled street yet; so much the better. The fewer people that saw them, the better.

She pulled lightly on the rein, the horse slowed to a stop. Dismounting fluidly, she threw the reins to Vain, jogging across the road to stand in front of the Tyridur house. She knocked three times and jumped back, narrowly missing the blade that popped out of the middle of the door.
“It’s not funny, Idasu!” she called. “Open the door already!” The refined tone of voice she’d used in talking to Zakroti was gone now.

The door opened and Asta barely avoided being tackle-hugged by the tall, muscular Gem. “Asta! What happened, we thought you’d gotten taken, where’s Miry, and who the hell is that?!”
“Id, calm down. I was taken, I fought my way out; Miry has been… married off to a Drakken.” Her voice cracked and she swallowed. “This is Vain. A spy of ours who was working as a servant at the banquet. He helped me overpower my captor.” The lie about Vain rolled easily off her tongue.

“Is he trustworthy?” another voice from the shadows; Idasu’s twin brother, Iral.

“He helped me escape, and didn’t murder me on the way here.”

Vain coughed. “You might want to not talk about “him” when he’s standing right here. And Astaelin, did you not say that this was somewhat urgent?”

Asta blushed slightly. “Right.” She turned to her two closest friends. “Report.”

A gust of wind around her, cutting the air so that the report would only be heard to the four Gems. A method of minimizing eavesdropping.

“We’ve been getting the reports from some of the other Air gems.” Idasu spoke quickly, his black eyes intense. “The Drakkens are coming back across Gemminia. Moving fast. They’ve already gone through Riversong and Silvermount and tried to burn the towns; thank the gods that they’re both by rivers and had a team of Water gems to put the flames out.”

Asta took a shaky breath. “Aye, they’re trying to meet up with the main Drakken army. They… declared war. What have you done thus far?”

Both men looked sick; she couldn’t blame them. Just the thought of it made her want to throw up. Her people could be slaughtered.

Idasu shook the thought off and spoke again. “The people from Riversong and Silvermount are on their way to Mistvale to find weapons and reinforcements; the general plan is for the people to lay low until the Drakken get here, then there’ll be a surprise for them. We’ve called for the villages to evacuate and hide, so hopefully no more casualties. If they listen.” His mouth twisted into a grimace.

Iral picked up the train of thought. “Messages have been sent all the way up the chain of cities towards the capitol, warning the people.”

“And the queen and princess?”

“If they’ve heard, they’ve not done anything.”

“Well, but they can’t do anything on such short notice.”

Both men looked to Asta. She sighed, scrambling to think of a plan. Finally she said,
“Nicely done, the both of you. I think that all that’s left is to acquire some weaponry and wait for our people to start showing up.”

Both looked like they were going to argue. “Hush. You know I’m right. It would be suicide for the three—well, four of us, to go try to head them off like I know you want to. So we wait for our people to get here. Where’s Ridel and Sisur, anyway? Do they know?”

“Aye, they know. They’re rounding up weapons and trying to figure out how to get messages relayed to the slaves in Drakka to see if they can’t slow the Drakkens down. I wish Miry were here; she’d know exactly how to do this.”

Asta took a deep breath, trying to ignore the stab of guilt. She should have asked Lord Unalim to free Miry, too. She should have waited until he did…

No sense worrying about it now, idiot girl. she thought to herself. Then, a filament of an idea, from thinking about Miry and what she would do.

“No, here’s what we’re going to do. Keep the ambush here, since it would take too many redundant orders to change it. We’re sending a group westward. To the Spine. We’ll send Ridel, since he, of all of us, knew Miry’s explosive things the best. Then we’ll need a full unit of magic specialists with him… Elli, Andon, Myla, and Jaril, how about, because they also worked with Miry and knew how to set up the devices.”

“What’re you going to do? Asta, I don’t like that look in your eyes.” Idasu spoke, almost nervously.

“We’re blowing up the pass. Unless you have a better idea, Vain?” She spoke to the blackguard, trying to not show how out-of-her-depth she was in this case. God, she hated ambushes. Just let her have an honorable fight, none of this preemptive strike stuff.

Both Iral and Idasu turned to stare at her. She just crossed her arms and looked them in the eyes until they looked away and bowed slightly. They’d appointed her their commander; they had to respect her decisions. Including the decisions of who she asked to advise her.

---

Aymiria Cassiel

Sister-wife of Amaryllis Stone; Bride of Zakroti Unalim

Miry had spent much of the ride asleep, her head leaning against Zakroti’s arm. She awoke when the carriage stopped, listening as a password was given in… some language she didn’t understand. She looked out the window, blinking sleepily in the sun. Violet eyes went wide as she took in the grounds of Zakroti’s estate. Wiping her eyes to clear the sleep, she glanced at the rows and rows of soldiers training in drills and formations. All hardened, muscular men who seemed fast and very, very strong. Internally she shuddered; there were easily seven hundred men out on that field. Just Zakroti’s people would be enough to storm the Gemminite capitol and take it.

The carriage stopped, and the door was opened. Miry obediently followed Zakroti out, pausing only to grab the polished ebony case that held her flute. The only reason that she’d gotten to keep it was because she’d been practicing when the Drakkens had come to take her, and she’d refused to let go of it.

“S-sir… i-if I may ask… I-is there a l-library or a st-tudy of some sort, that I m-might borrow some b-books from?” Miry spoke softly, her cheeks slightly flushed. She didn’t want to seem demanding, but… books. She loved old books; her family had never really had much in the way of books, and Miry had all but memorized the few she’d been able to get her hands on. Children’s books, mostly; fables and tales. She’d never been allowed to get any military theory, nor ones on engineering or chemistry. Most likely because her parents didn’t want her to turn out like Asta.

She jumped about a foot in the air at the sudden loud voice, calling Zakroti “uncle”. She watched the other girl approaching; even though she was clearly young, she was still easily a head taller than Miry. And beautiful.

Mentally Miry sighed in exasperation. She hated being short; really, really hated it. It let people look down at her and she didn’t like it one bit.

She listened to the rapid-fire exchange in that same foreign tongue, trying to make sense of it. Some words were starting to click a little bit… did “Vivpre” mean “apologize” or something?

"And you two-- Ladies, are...?"

Miry faced the girl, trying to not tremble, most definitely not making eye contact. “M-my name is Aymiria, or M-Miry, s-second-born daughter o-of house Cassiel. It is an h-honor to m-meet you, lady S-Silnor.” She curtsied deeply. She pretended to not notice the bitter tone in the girl’s voice; but she would keep an eye on her. Not that Miry could do anything to defend against Silnor, if the girl decided that she was too much trouble to keep around, but… she’d at least be aware of it.

Miry then thought of something to say that, if Silnor was intelligent, might put her at least a little at ease. If Miry was thinking right, Silnor just felt threatened. Also, she’d been meaning to ask the question for a while but it had slipped her mind until she’d picked up her flute case. She turned to Zakroti. “My l-lord, I was wondering, i-if there were other, w-well, if y-you have any other s-servants who p-play instruments, i-if I might find some extra m-music books… I… was n-not allowed to b-bring any of m-mine.” Again her cheeks flushed slightly. She hoped Silnor would pick up on the fact that she was classifying herself as a servant. If she was unimportant, maybe the taller girl would forget about her.

Zakroti Unalim
Husband of Aymiria Cassiel and Amaryllis Stone

Zakroti smiled as he watched the introductions and quickly caught what Miry was doing. Perhaps that was the safer course than attempting to reconcile Silnor with the idea, for now at least. He opened his mouth to invite Amaryllis to speak but was cut short by the sound of a horn. He cranked his head suddenly towards the gate and closed his jaw. He took several steps forwards as if to position himself between the two parties as he slowly turned his head towards Silnor. He paused for a moment before asking her a one word question "Doon?"

"Ween kala wus jyl e dzi." Silnor replied, causing Zakroti to nod in affirmation

"Stand here." Zakroti said, waving his hand dismissively as he spun in place back towards Amaryllis and Miry. Silnor remained in place, slowly clasping her hands in front of her. "As for those who play instruments, of course there are. A small number of them, but a number none the less. I'm sure they would be as eager as I to know what is played through the pass. And in answer to your first question, there is a library. Its rather large in fact, would you like me to show-"

Just then there was a shout from the gatehouse, and the gates creaked open behind them to allow a cart to roll through. In the back were a bunch of Gems, all laden in chains and looking extremely terrified. Eight men and four females in total, all affluently dressed. The youngest man looked around twenty while the oldest was definitely in his fifties. The youngest female was perhaps twenty six and the oldest was late forties or so.

Zakroti turned towards it with a stone face, but it was quickly replaced by surprised and then annoyance. This shouldn't have been happening already, had the invasion already commenced? He cocked an eyebrow and started walking toward it, raising his arms to the side as he addressed the driver of the cart

"Gais a niz? Nastaki hilyatew!" Zakroti demanded, raising his arms in exasperation at the unexpected shipment.

"Niz a Gemi hilyatez silaigz odadez, Tak. Odzi rot Gemi kusali kros. Gehdzi numeta kros kala jusla hilyatez Mu'Kasi." The driver replied in a gruff voice, casting a glance back to the prisoners before nodding sharply and turning his attention back towards Zakroti, who sighed before speaking.

"Indeed, Lal. Send them to the yard, Kzaar will deal with this."

"By your orders, Tak." The driver whipped the reigns, sending the horse forwards and to the right towards the square before making another abrupt turn and heading towards the barracks. Kzaar followed after it, slowly taking his helmet from under his arm and placing it over his head again.

Zakroti turned to regard the trio but was once more interrupted by another shout from the gate. He turned slowly and adopted a stone face again as a series of knights rode in through the gates. At the front was a man in black steel armour with gold trims and a red cape flowing down around his right shoulder. His hair was white and wispy and his two horns were long and proud above his head. He halted his horse just before Zakroti, looking down to him before glancing up to the two brides

"O taki Nastaki!" Zakroti gave a quick bow to his Grandfather and the remaining members of the blackguard did the same. Silnor curtsied as deeply as she possibly could, her apparent disdain all gone as she looked up towards the great lord. "This is not unexpected but your early."

"I rode ahead of my army. Once you wrote to me about the war, I decided we must move quick. Dismiss your brides and ward." Nastaki dismounted his horse, handing it off to the stable boy as he approached his grandson, towering over him. Zakroti turned his head backwards towards Silnor

"Silnor, hilyatew weli kala math. Kilio, hilyatew Miry e Amaryllis kala math... Kala silyauuj." Zakroti ordered before he cranked his head back to face Nastaki, stopping only to give Miry a reassuring smile.

"Most certainly, Uncle." Silnor's voice was in stark contrast to her previous tone; It was now excessively polite and formal. She curtsied one final time before she turned in place and headed off towards the Workshops, making a face and murmuring "No place for a lady" as she headed towards the blacksmiths.

No sooner had she left than a 6'7 blackguard stepped forwards and beckoned Miry and Amaryllis to follow and leading them off towards the keep. Nastaki began heading towards the Keep and Zakroti followed after him

"'Miry'?" Nastaki asked with a frown. Zakroti nodded slowly, as much to reassure himself as anything.

"That is her name." Zakroti said, earning a glance from Nastaki

"Her name is Aymiria. You will call her such in my presence." Nastaki paused at the gates to the Keep, turning towards Zakroti and waiting for a response before pushing the doors open and stepping in

"Understood Grandfather." Zakroti replied, turning as soon as they reached the inside and heading through the great hall then up the steps, continuing up the stairs until they finally reached the door to the roof. Zakroti flung open the two large double doors and stepped out onto it, crossing it and coming around the side of the dome to the front of the keep. Zakroti glanced towards Nastaki as if awaiting permission and, after receiving a nod, approached the edge and peered over the wall to the grounds below.

"You must name an heir in case you fall in battle, Zakroti. If a holder has no children and he dies, most titles will simply move to the nearest relative, however..." Nastaki began to explain, before being cut off by Zakroti, who quickly wished he had waited given the murderous look in his grandfathers eye.

"The Duchies of Bloodstone and Firestone are exceptions; The ruling Duke must appoint an heir due to the ducal law changes introduced by Ballal Unalim two hundred years ago, as he desired to prevent his titles passing to his sister... I aware of that law."

"Then who do you name?" Nastaki urged

"I wish to make Vain my heir, from now until such a time I have children." Zakroti said as he glanced down towards the statue in the square, catching Nastaki's smirk out of the corner of his eye

"I am not letting the title pass out of house Unalim; Pick someone else."

"Vain. If it needs to be someone in House Unalim, then approve of me adopting him." Zakroti instantly regretted what he had just said, and his face paled slightly as he realised exactly what he had said. That... Was unbelievably stupid even if it was in jest. Perhaps the lack of sleep was affecting him more than he had thought. He could tell from the look of Nastaki's face that he was unamused and Zakroti couldn't help but wonder whether the situation was salvageable

"Adopt him into..." Nastaki said quietly as he clenched his fists tightly, raising his voice to an authoritative and stern pitch. It was not a yell, it was not even close to it; Yet it held all the power and force and then some. "I take back what I said. I was never wrong about you. You are an ignorant whelp with no respect for our great name and would it not disgrace that name I would tear it from you and have you killed! I would hang your corpse from the statue in that square, erected by a man whom you are unworthy to lick the bones of, let alone live in the house he built so many years ago!"

"Kas! Vivpre! I did not mean to... I have not slept in three days, Grandfather, I would not have suggested such in my right mind..." Zakroti quickly searched for what his next words should be, but Nastaki cut him off.

"Then right your mind and be quick about it!" Nastaki barked. Zakroti turned his head and looked back towards the square, nodding "Look at me when I'm talking to you."

"Of course- I" He paused for a moment "I wish my wards to be treated as though they were my children 'til such a time I have any. Upon my death, may the eldest get it." Zakroti looked back towards Nastaki, though did his best to avoid looking him in the eye. He saw Nastaki nod slowly before continuing.

"And on the topic of Vain, what is this I hear about a rebel girl?" Nastaki growled, causing Zakroti to pause for thought before speaking.

"I beg your pardon for acting without consultation, Taki; We can play the two sides off against each other, it makes our eventual task all the easier. Not to mention the intelligence Vain can feed us."

"Oh really? Do you expect them to stand a chance?" Kastaki was slowly returning to a calm state, but Zakroti was careful not to set a toe out of line. He feared his grandfather more than anyone else he had met in his life, such was his hold over him.

"No; I expect them to wear down the other Drakken, paving the war for our plans."

"I see. And Vain will be feeding you information?"

"That is correct; I shall feed it to our family as need be."

"There is another issue. This letter was despatched to the Karstagg family." Nastaki took the rolled up note from within his armour and handed it to Zakroti, who unfurled it and read over it slowly. "It is most unfortunate that your actions drew the attention of the Scream Taker."

"My sincerest apologies, Taki" Zakroti bowed his head slightly as he spoke "Did they lie together?"

"They did, but we know not whether she has a child in her."

"I see. Perhaps we should let it through? If it turns out Krone truly suspects us then we can intercept the correspondence... That's if the Karstaggs bite at all; I doubt any of them will wish to give up a chunk of their estate."

"Agreed. I have a final demand; I need you to supply your liege levy. I expect the minimum of 1600 for the war effort."

"I'll go one higher than that; I'll supply 2200 and not a soldier more; The rest I retain for my command when the time comes. Slaves, of course, as most my armies are composed of."

"I see. Anything else?'

"No, that should be all I believe. Give the orders to the Marshall, he'll raise the men- I'll have everything set up for our enterprise." Zakroti paused for a moment, considering. Having displeased Nastaki with his foolish comments, it would be wise to get back onto his good side, lest he find himself being locked away in an oubliette. "I shall have a gift sent down to the gatehouse for you, the guards will turn it over as you leave. Accept my sincerest apologies for my behavior, Taki; I have disgraced our name."

"Oh?" Nastaki replied in an amused tone, the side of his face curling into a thin smile. Zakroti found some comfort in this however found it quickly ebb away when Nastaki continued. "Then we shall see whether your gift is appropriate repayment."

Zakroti nodded slowly in response and turned, watching Nastaki head back across the balcony and standing in place for several minutes before heading back down from the roof.



The Blackguard led the pair down the hallways, parting servants as he passed. They turned west off the entrance and proceeded down several corridors before turning south and heading down towards the back. Finally, they came to a large oak door. Runes were carved into the door and dead center, parted down the middle by the opening of the doors, was the carving or a Drakken in a robe. In one hand he bore a scroll in the other he held a torch.

Kilio reached out and pushed open the door, stepping into it and holding it open, motioning for the pair of them to pass. The room beyond was large and encompassed two floors. On the ground floor there were five rows of bookshelves with more set against the walls. On the far side of the room were two winding staircases to the second floor, tucked neatly away in each corner. The bookshelves were labeled in a similar runic carving as that which inscribed the door. Given that each appeared to have a different symbol, it was easy to guess that it was an alphabet.

The blackguard stepped in after them, glancing over the room before raising his hands up and removing his helmet, holding it under one arm and slowly looking around the room before turning his head back towards the pair before brushing past them and leaning against the door frame.

Vain Norkaan
Captain of the Blackguard

"A wise choice to arm the slaves, assuming you don't arm the wrong ones." Vain replied matter of factly, folding his arms slowly in front of him. He couldn't help but dismiss their thoughts as being somewhat naive

"Every fort which was holding the border of Gemminia has emptied and are marching back to Drakka. Once those from beyond your border learn the Drakken have withdrawn their Protection, and I'm sure the Drakken were not quiet about it, it will be open season on the Marchlands at the least. Have you considered this? How many strong are you?"

Vain shifted in place as he thought. Zakroti and he had planned a theoretical invasion of Gemminia many times over but never had they expected it to actually come to fruition; The warlords were much too happy shoving their cocks into little Gem girls to do something worthwhile. And yet here they were now.

And yet here he was now, standing on very much the wrong side of the mountain range. He knew the plan but he couldn't help but feel that he was far less useful here than he would have been in an army.

"I have some advice that I don't think you are going to like, but- its a necessary evil. Will you hear me out?"

Valence Sayal, the Cultist
A great rushing sound surrounded him, beating at him with very real, yet very ethereal, force. He could feel it mentally, but not physically. This was the meditative state that many of the Cultists work their entire lives to achieve; those raised within usually master it in their teenage years. He had been the only one to master it before he was double digits. It was part of the reason why he held such influence that even the elders took everything he said seriously.

But the meditation was broken by voices- yelling voices. Regular ones he could do with, and if he focused hard enough, he could meditate in the middle of one of their wild parties. But he was relaxed, and he had gotten his meditation in for the day. So he opened his eyes, just as a young Gem burst into the meditation room directly in front of him. A panicked, anxious expression on the Gem's face was all that Val needed to come alive. Shifting his weight backwards, just enough for him to balance on his feet and off his knees, he stood, and plowed forward, waving for the Gem to follow him.

"Alright, what is it?" he asked, placid-voiced despite his obvious alertness.

"Sir, we've been seeing a lotta movements from the Horned, and now there'saben increased movement towards the 'pass!" The young Gem's voice was frantic- he must've only been thirteen or fourteen.

"Get me a full written report from the scouts. No- get me the scout or scouts themselves. Now!" He waved vaguely, voice rising as he marched to the Commons of the great fortress.

Almost immediately upon entering the common room- a large, circular room that extended up four stories, with balconies lining the sides from various rooms- the few that were in dried up from their laughter and jokes when they say Valence. One of them stood- his closest rival, a bright fiery Gem named Teron. Fortunately, their rival was a friendly one- enemies would not do, here.

"Any word, boss?" he inquired, and his compatriots got to their own feet behind him.

Not bothering to pause, Valence simply offered, "On my way for it now. Join me?"

Four more footsteps fell in line with his own. Passing out of the central Commons room, he strode down the now Southern corridor, heading towards the 'welcome' room- the primary entrance to the fortress. A gentle breeze blew down the corridors, stronger as they came closer to the fortress entrance. Pathways and tunnels snaked off from the sides, each of these, now, with thick oak doors reinforced with steel, runes engraved on the stone around them, and on the door itself. The closer they reached the surface, the more 'checkpoints' they walked through- stone walls that jutted out from the smooth sides of the tunnel, making the relatively spacious tunnel a sudden bottleneck, impossible to mark in formation through, impossible to fit more than four people abreast. Slots for the inside to slip spears, arrows, or swords through, depending on the need, with small shutters to close them if they use fire or start sticking their own weapons through.

Valence Sayal was confident in his and the fortress's ability to hold back the Horned, but that doesn't mean he should be overconfident. Most of the actual defenses of late were put up because he worked the Cultists back into shape, from their steady dulling of mind, body, and preparation.

Striding into the primary, biggest surface-side bunker, with a catapult mounted on time (painted gray), and slots for their giant crossbows to fire through within the bunker itself. He glanced out the massive slot- relatively small, if one were passing through the pass- and took note of the very empty, desolate mountains, before turning and heading into a side room- the 'airlock' of sorts for allowing people in or out. The double oak doors that were leading into the bunker from the fortress corridor, as well as the oak doors leading into the entry room were open- he didn't like that. But he'll bring it up later.

He marched into the room with his five comrades, where three scouts were busy shoving the usual biscuits and jerky in, downing cups of wine between mouthfuls. Three soldiers stood in the room, as well, and the messenger, who was busy unloading a small tray of food and wine onto the table- scouts don't usually eat much, especially when in the field.

Sayal and his four companions waited ten minutes for the scouts to finish eating, before information began being exchanged.