Ekreture

Legend of the Silver Legion (A Fantasy RP)

Djerka, Velen Principality

Whatever burns turns to ash. Men, trees, books, dogs. All burn into ashes. These thoughts filled Njorald's head as he stared into the hearth. It was snowing in Djerka. It always snowed in Djerka, the northernmost port in Velen. It wasn't too bad, but the sky was bleak and gray, and the Prince stared out into the ocean, which reflected the shadows of the cloudy sky. His eyes darted a little lower to the ships being prepared. Tomorrow, their portion of the invasion of Askor began.

People still walked the streets, but there was little joy, more just human cattle shuffling around to where they needed to go. The only people who seemed somewhat happy were some of the more ardent Veleni warriors, with large axes and tattoos covering their bodies.

Velen was hurt far less than most of the other Einherjar...or, as Veleni were supposed to call them, Nouven, vassals, with not nearly as much massacre and torture that followed their surrender. Because of this, the armies of Velen were expected to perform far better, and much more was expected out of them. This was why many of the other Nouven vassals, as well as the Nouven themselves, refered to them as dogs. Njorald breathed the cold, burnt air, and sat down on the deck of his estate in Djerka. He moved his hand over the heat of the flame to feel the warmth, and unconciously, he hand began moving closer and closer to the burning fire.

"Go ahead, grasp the flames" A deep voice said from behind Njorald. The air suddenly seemed cooler, as if someone had opened up a window. The clanking of plate armor grew louder as the figure stepped closer to the prince. "Perhaps I won't torture your countrymen if you torture yourself." The Einherjar commander said.

At hearing Llyr's voice, Njorald stood immediately, removing the hand from the fire and placing it over his chest, staring blankly ahead. "My lord, my deepest apologies, I did not hear you come in." He felt a deep, aching fear rise up inside of him, the same fear he felt when he saw his father's bloody corpse twenty years ago.

"You'd best stay vigilant" Llyr's tone belied the smile hidden behind his helmet, "least you share your father's fate." The Einherjar always seemed to enjoy mentioning Njorald's father. "Lord Goscelin has already begun," He continued after a moment, "and soon it will be your turn. Do you understand your role?"

The Prince nodded. "Of course, my lord. I am to invade the nomads north of Cormyral, to quell whatever future threat they may hold to your endevours, as well as to take as many slaves to provide your lordship with whatever labor you may need." He went through his head, thinking of anything he might have left out...it did not go well when he did.

Llyr gave a slight nod of his head. "Show no mercy. It matters not if the rats you bring back in chains are in less than good condition. In fact... I expect you to personally flog the first hundred you catch."

Sighing in relief for having not missed anything, Njorald said, "Of course, my lord." He waited a moment, visibly sweating as he made the following request. "And...my lord...if it isn't too much trouble...the people of this town...their winter provisions were confiscated to feed our invasion force...if your greatness could maybe find some food in surplus to replace it..."

"Oh?" The air seemed to become even more chilled than before. "You need not concern yourself with the townsfolk. Soon they will not need to be concerned about food." There was no warmth in his voice, only trace amounts of amusement.

Njorald expected his skin to go cold, for some rage to build inside of him. He wasn't all too surprised, however, when he felt nothing. He simply nodded, with a bleak look on his face.

Sometimes he wondered if the rumors were true. He had been told that the Scaveni were brutally massacred, that no survivors remained, and all things to remember them by turned to ash. But there were rumors that persisted, in the darkest rooms, the quietest voices, that the Scaveni still lived. Not in their land of course. But that they lived in the hundreds of thousands, far, far to the west. Of course, if he ever brought this up to his overlords, he'd get a hand cut off, or a city massacred, or something of the sorts. But every so often he contemplated if, back as an adolescent, he should have gone with them in their migration.

Llyr observed Njorald for a moment before giving a slight nod of his head. "You have, by serving us, served the Goddess well. Perhaps she will, in time, allow you to truly join our ranks. But only if you show true dedication to the cause."

He turned to leave as he said "I will be watching your progress with great interest young prince. Remember that."

"I would be honored to recieve your approval," Njorald replied.  He waited for a solid five minutes after Llyr left before he finally relaxed...to the extent that he could. He turned back to the sea, and looked back to the flame.

Of course the Scaveni didn't survive. That's just rumors tortured women make up to find comfort. But perhaps Njorald should follow suit with his old allies. And burn to ash.

Legend of the Silver Legion (A Fantasy RP)

Principality of Velen

Principality of Velen

Government

Velen is 'led' by Prince Njorald. There was once an institution somewhat similar to the Scaven, though smaller and less powerful. They were killed by the Einherjar. Now, while the Einherjar largely allow Njorald to govern Velen independently, they still make practically every executive decision, as well as forcing Njorald to comply with every demand, military and economic, they may have.

Geography

Velen is located far away from Askor, to the north of what was Scavenia. Velen's climate was already much colder than their allies, and so agriculture was far less relied upon, and the sea was utilized much more. After the Einherjar invaded, this was only exacerbated, with the soil losing almost all fertility.

Culture

Veleni culture is largely similar to Scaveni, though with a greater emphasis on the ocean and tundra, and, more recently, on warfare. Religiously, the Veleni worship the same gods as the Scaveni, though with different gods in their chief pantheon, and worship of many Scaveni gods, such as Wanous and Lodd, have been outlawed by the Einherjar.

Vascun

Vascun is the Scaveni and Veleni wolf god. What is the god of is a somewhat foreign concept known as Visi, which has no direct translation, but is somewhere between 'power', 'survival', and 'darkness'. Visi is basically the quantity to which someone has a capability of surviving, as well as exerting their power on others. Followers of Vascun believe that to raise one's Visi, they must forsake morality, and instead view the world through a primal and survivalistic view of it. Vascun, illegal to worship before the arrival of the Einherjar, is now one of the principal gods of the Vilene, being seen as the god who led them to their current status under the Einherjar. Vascuns followers in the military, the Berserkers, have the ability to turn into powerful werewolves. His pendant is a wolf head.

The Goddess

The Goddess is the 'one true goddess' of the Einherjar. Under the Einherjar rule, the Veleni are forced to worship her above all other gods.

Hafni

Hafni is the Veleni god of luck, fishing, and thievery. Many today worship Hafni simply as a means of finding hope in not getting tortured or killed by the Einherjar. The warriors who worship him can utilize various powers of illusion, such as the ability to read and bend minds, and to turn invisible. His pendant is a hand.

Njurr

Njurr is the Veleni and Scaveni sea god, though to the Veleni is much more militaristic. He once was, along with Wanous, one of the two most important gods, and though is still important, is now being eclipsed by Vascun and the Einherjar Goddess. It is said that when Wanous ruled man, he set aside a parcel of land for his son, Njurr, to rule over, despite already giving him the seas. This land became known as Velen, or 'Sea Land'. His pendant is the Triple Wave, which is also the flag of the Veleni.

Kimmel

By far the most distorted god under Einherjar rule, Kimmel was once a minor harvest god, who, according to Veleni teachings, would tend to the lands while the other gods were out at sea. Now that the land has been taken, Kimmel is seen in a much...different light under Einherjar rule, now being a vicious war god. Warrior followers of Kimmel carry long, scythe like weapons, and wear only long robes, being well known for their speed and agility, being adept at blocking arrows and other projectiles. His pendant is a scythe.

Military

Velen operates under the Einherjar military, though they have opted to send Velen on its own independent invasion rather than simply incorporate it into their military. Velen, as it has always been, is a primarily amphibious military, though is now a bit more raiding oriented and...merciless. The most elite warriors of the Veleni military are the berserkers, Vascun worshippers who can turn into werewolves far more powerful than most Scaveni werewolves, except perhaps Lessik. Their military primarily utilizes longships at sea, and fight with axes more often than the Scaveni. Another elite group are the followers of Kimmel, who carry scythe-like polearms and wear robes instead of armor, instead choosing speed as their main skill in combat. Additionally, certain military practices have been adopted from the Einherjar-for instance, nobles, including Njorald, tend to fight in plate armor, and rather than use their old scale armor, most fighters in general wear chain mail. Crossbows have also been adopted as the main ranged weapon, with levy troops used to fire them.

Veleni Longship

Berserker

Followers of Kimmel

Heroes

Skulvar Bloodaxe: (superior hero) Skulvar defected before the Veleni as a whole did, and is perhaps the most powerful werewolf in the world, making the Scaveni Lessik look like nothing in comparison, with his wolf form being massive and demonic. And not only is he powerful as a wolf, but he is still one of the best Veleni warriors as a man, fighting with a large, two handed axe. Despite his strange love for the Einherjar, he is still an ardent worshipper of Vascun, his body covered in Vascunite iconographic tattoos. The way he acts, it seems as though mercy isn't in his vocabulary.

Prince Njorald: Prince Njorald, the puppet leader of Velen, ascended to the throne after his father was killed by Einherjar agents, though the title of king was abolished. Despite his trepidation in fighting, it is expected of him by the Einherjar to fight in combat, and he has become an adept warrior, fighting with a sword and no shield. He is perennially depressed, struggling to account for the needs of his people while complying with the demands of his occupiers. The effect this has on his mental health is, to say the least, not a good one.

Skayna Blackfeather: Skayna is one of the very few female warriors in the Veleni army, and not only that, but she leads a fleet of ships. Utilizing both skills in combat and illusion magic, she is well liked by the Einherjar, mainly for her skill as a slaver, having brought many prisoners to fuel the Einherjar machine. In combat she fights with an axe and a shield, and received her name for controlling a group of ravens, who she uses to obtain scouting information, and sometimes to aid in fighting. She was the illegitimate child of a Veleni admiral who was killed by the Einherjar for refusing to accept their rule, and thus, has noble blood.

Skayna

Awnar Vesna: Awnar is an ardent follower of Kimmel, and extreme with his skill with a scythe. He's also probably the best person in the Veleni army, with some actual moral fiber. Secretly, he dislikes the Einherjar rule, but wouldn't publicly say anything. Something else he hides is that he not only worships Kimmel as a war god, but as a protecter of Velen, just like in the old days. His father was an actual priest of Kimmel, and as such they lived on a farm. Awnar believes in a new Kimmelite philosophy based on balance, where one cannot enact true change through violent upheaval, and where the passion of the New Kimmel and the tranquility of the Old Kimmel must be reconciled.

History

For hundreds of years, the neighboring powers of Velen and Scavenia were close allies. So close that the Veleni Prince Njorald and the Scaveni Princess Eosia were expected to be wed, and upon their wedding, create a unified kingdom. When the Einherjar invaded, it seemed as though the allied states would be able to repel the invaders, when Einherjar agents killed the Veleni king, and replaced him with his adolescent son. Since then, the past twenty years have been the Einherjar sapping the Veleni of recources and men, though not as much as the other peoples serving them, so that the Veleni could create their own invasion force.

Relations

Einherjar: The Veleni are often called the Einherjar's dogs-treated better than the other vassals, but still forced to comply with any demands they make. Njorald himself is often treated by the Einherjar as a weird project, almost being...groomed.
Scaveni: One time ally, now mortal enemy. The Veleni have been told that the Scaveni had been eradicated, though this is not the case. Of course, after the Veleni betrayal, the engagement between Njorald and Eosia was broken off.
Sabakatanu: They haven't met, but Njorald is about to invade them, so...relations are unlikely to be good.

Legend of the Silver Legion (A Fantasy RP)

(SpleenxEkreture)

Levine, Kingdom of Cormyral

"This way mi'lady" the Cormyrean guard said as he led Princess Eosia and her band to Duchess Lynette's personal estate. The streets were busy, but not overly crowded. Peasants went about their business, trying to buy the goods they needed from overly greedy merchants. Guards kept a keen eye out for thieves; those very theives took care to stay away from the guards as they tried to swipe goods from the merchants. All turned to look at Eosia and her band as they passed, if even for just a moment. Foreigners were not exactly uncommon to the city, although it was rare for so many foreign women to pass through.

The guard blanched as he caught sight of a lamia and rather angry northerner, making sure to advert his gaze as they passed nearby. "Usually the city isn't quite so busy." He commented. "But with the prince summoning up the levies and keeping them nearby..."

In all honesty, Eosia could barely understand a word the guard was saying, so she simply nodded and grunted at him. In the palace it was different; not much was going on. But it's been years since she's seen commerce like this. Her eyes widened at the sight of the snake creature, but knowing better, said nothing. While the markets worried her, her women all giggled and laughed at the various sights. One of them spoke up.

"Eosia, could we return later?" Eosia's eyes darted between the carts and stalls, bickering and laughter.

"Eh...yes...perhaps." She looked down to find her hand at the pommel of her sword, and quickly removed it. "Where are horses? They at house?" she asked the guard.

"Yes mi'lady" The guard was quick to respond. "The Duchess was quite clear that your horses and cargo were to be treated with care."

Some of the women farther to the back were muttering to each other in Scaveni. "I wouldn't mind him handling me with care!" One shieldmaiden said to another. At this, most of the shieldmaidens started laughing, while Eosia barked back at them in Scaveni, then looked the guard, sheepishly embarassed. 

The guard let out a laugh as well and gave a quick shake of his head. "You'd best be careful" He called to the women over his shoulder. "Most people in this region would take your words seriously."

The shieldmaiden who said her comment smiled at him. "Who say they aren't?" and winked. Eosia blushed and put her palm in her hand. "I sorry. They...not meet new man in a time."

The guard simply laughed again. "Don't worry. This region of the world isn't exactly shy about sex." He gave Eosia a wide smile before giving the shieldmaiden an exaggerated wink. "The teachings of Eros and all that. Though.... we're moderate when compared to the Riawins."

At that moment a merchant, perhaps seeing a foreign woman as an easy source of wealth, pushed his way to the crowd. It was not an easy task for him, his rolls of fat making him less than agile. "A pretty necklace for a pretty woman" The merchant said as he reached the group, holding a golden necklace out towards Eosia. "For a pretty thing like you I'll reduce the price!"

"Back off" The guard said with a sigh.

"What do you say mi'lady?" The merchant said, completely ignoring the guard.

Eosia looked at him with a frank face. Up until now she'd acted somewhat nervous and reserved, eager to make a good impression on the leaders of this nation. But she knew she didn't need to impress this man. She quickly grabbed the necklace from the merchant's hand, knowing that he couldn't stop her if he wanted to, and studied it closely. "Not pretty." She then looked at it closer. "And...not gold." She looked to her women and said the Scaveni word for fool's gold, and tossed it back to the fat man, who didn't manage to catch it. "Eat less, work more. Maybe start to sell good necklace." She turned away from him and began walking towards the manor. She had no respect for anyone who would try to bilk people out of their belongings...she'd seen enough of that on the road.

"That guy is liable to run foul of a merchant one day" The guard muttered. "And then that'll be the end of that." To their right they passed a pair of street performers. One was balancing on one hand, with an apple resting atop each foot, as the other skillfully threw knives into those apples. The guard paused for a moment to drop a bronze coin into a bucket near the performers.

Eosia searched her person for a coin, but couldn't find any. She found herself surprised when one of her shieldmaidens dropped a whole purse of coins into the bucket. "Nidd, where'd you get that?" She asked.

Nidd motioned to the fat merchant, who was now patting over his body with a worried look on his face. "Snagged it while he was bent over." Eosia sighed as Nidd laughed histerically, and went over to the guard.

"We should move," she said, looking behind her as the merchant figured out what happened.

"I'm going to remain oblivious to what just happened" The guard muttered. It took the group another ten minutes to reach the Duchess's estate. In terms of estates it was fairly small, a decent sized mansion surrounded by a wall, with surprisingly little yard space around it. A pair of soldiers stood guard at the gate, with a few more visible on the inside. Even so the estate seemed sparcely guarded.

"Here we are." The guard said as they approached the estate's gate. The two soldiers standing guard opened the gate and gestured for the group to move on through. "This will be where we part ways. Oh, and should any of you care for my presence I can be found at a tavern called the Drunken Lamia." He rendered a low bow intended for the group as a whole.

The sheildmaiden who winked at him earlier cocked her head. "Drun-kin Lamb-e uh...you buy me drink?" She stepped closer to him as her fellow warriers snickered behind her.

"Of course." He answered.

She put her fist to her chest and giggled, then returned to her group, as they went into the manor, looking around them in wonder at the building they'd be sleeping in. The entrance of the mansion opened up into a fairly large hall. Paintings of, what could only be assumed to be, the Duchess's family lined the walls. A rug that wasn't quite ornate covered the floor. A few servants could be seen towards the back of the entry hall, cleaning a pair of vaces and putting new flowers into them.

"The Duchess sent word to expect you." An older man, probably in his sixties, limped over to the group. A nasty looking scar, which ran from his hairline over his left eye to the corner of his mouth, gave him the appearance of scowling despite his attempts at a smile. "Shall I have the cook prepare dinner or would you ladies prefer to wait for the Duchess's return?"

One of the warrior woman's eyes lit up at dinner. "Dinner?" Eosia gave her a stern look, then looked back to the old man.

"We wait for host...eh...what is you name?" She looked to his scar with sympathy in her eyes, knowing better than to ask about it.

"Ah how rude of me" The man either missed or ignored the look she gave him. "I'm Kerman. I serve the Duchess as her Seneschal. Before that I served at her side in battle till..." He smacked one of his thighs with his fist. "Pike got me." He finished with a shrug. "Well since you will be waiting for dinner shall I show you to our guest wing?"

"Eh...yes...armor is heavy," Eosia said with an awkward laugh. She fidgeted around, with sweat beads glazing her forehead, her scale armor clanking as she moved.

"Of course." Kerman said, leading the way towards the end of the entry hall. "I hate to admit it," He continued, "but the estate isn't designed for so many guests. We've had to clear some space in what is normally the servants quarters. I hope you don't mind. All but yourself and nine of your companions will have to stay here" He gestured towards a hallway that led to the right "in the servant wing. They will show your companions to their rooms." A pair of servants rendered low bows as the group approached.

"Straight forward" Kerman gestured towards another hall, "is the main part of the estate where the dinning hall and most other facilities can be found. And here," He led them to a hall to the left, "Leads the way to the Duchess's and guest rooms where the rest of you will be staying. We've arranged it so your nine remaining companions will have three rooms between them, with you having your own personal room. Is there anything else I can do to be of service?"

Eosia looked down the hall longingly for a real bed, but then turned back to Kerman. "Eh...where are horses? And our things?" Many of the shieldmaidens had already went into the servant wing and flopped down on the floor.

"The stables are right past the servant wing. There's a door at the end of the hall that opens within line of sight of it. Your cargo has been moved to a storage room. We'll be happy to move any and all of into your rooms if you wish."

"Eh...no, it okay..." She gazed down the hall. "Show me my room?"

"Ah yes. It's right here." He limped over to a door and opened it up. "Please make yourself at home."

The princess nodded, and walked into the room, finding herself unlatching her armor, revealing the tunic she was wearing underneath. He stared at the bed, slowly moving towards it, and moved her hand up and down the bedpost, feeling the texture of the wood. She was surprised to find herself salivating, and then, almost at random, collapsed on the bed, immediately falling asleep.

The next morning she was awoken by a loud whinnie and some yelling. Rushing outside, she saw the horse she brought as a gift for the duchess bucking at some guards and servants. She rushed forward, with a hand raised, and yelled, "Hod! Hod!"  The horse raised its front legs at her, letting out a large winnie, while she simply responded with some shushes. Recognizing her, it began to calm down, and she slowly moved forward, and placed her hand on his nose, calmly saying, "Ren, ren," repeatedly, and petting him. She looked to the guards. "What happened?"

"Not sure mi'lday." One of the guards answered, his sentiment mirrored by several nodding servants. "One of the servants found him wandering around just a few minutes ago. He must have broken out of the stable somehow."

She looked around, and noticed a servant who had been working on the roof, his hands covered in black tar. "You...you approach him?"

"Uh... yes." She nodded.

"Your hands...scare him." She led the horse back to the stable. "He okay now, just...clean hands if you touch him."

"Of course mi'lday" The various servants and guards excused themselves and went about their business, the last one leaving just as a pair of familiar figures stepped into view.

"We just don't have those kinds of numbers" Kerman was saying, eliciting a sharp shake of the head from the Duchess. "Lynette we-"

"We need to find them." The duchess cut him off. "With the threat of an invasion of Riawin and now this new army in the East..." She trailed off as she caught sight of Eosia. "We'll continue this talk later Kerman."

"Of course." Kerman rendered a bow to both the duchess and Eosia before turning and leaving.

"How was your night?" The Duchess asked as she approached Eosia.

Eosia embarradly looked down at her clothes, the same clothes she had worn the day before. "Eh...good. It was good." She felt strange openly wearing civilian clothes like this. "I sorry about the horse...he...seen much battle. Sometimes he forgets when a battle ends." As she said this, the horse was contentedly eating some hay that was strewn about on the floor.

"Haven't we all?" Suddenly the duchess sounded much older than she actually was. After a moment she simply shrugged. "You must have been exhausted. You slept straight through dinner and breakfast."

At the duchess's mention of it, Eosia suddenly found her stomach grumbling. "Oh, eh, yes...could I possibly..." one of the shieldmaidens, the one who had been talking up the guard the day before, walked out, with a loaf of bread in her hand. In Scaveni, she said to Eosia, "Took this from breakfast. Here." She tossed it to Eosia.

"Thank you, Ysa. What was dinner?" Ysa blushed.

"I wasn't here for dinner," the young girl said, biting her lip with her hands clasped behind her back. Eosia rolled her eyes.

"Of course you weren't. Go on." Ysa nodded, putting her fist to her chest and turned to leave, nodding at the Lynette. Eosia groaned.

"How my soldier so...man crazed?!" she exclaimed, taking a bite of the bread.

For a moment Lynette's only response was a cocked eyebrow. Afte a moment she asked "And you find that to be unusual?"

Eosia too raised an eyebrow. "Yes...wait...what you mean?" Eosia thought back to what the guard said yesterday about the area being liberal with sex, and leaned against the stable. Was the duchess unmarried and...not a virgin?

Lynette simply laughed and patted Eosia on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it." She looked Eosia up and down before adding "If you find us odd you'll think the Riawins are downright insane."

Eosia nodded, feigning understanding...from what she's heard, she wouldn't be a fan of these 'Riawins'. She waited for a few moments, eating the bread, then asked. "You have a husband?"

"What?" Lynette gave her a startled look. "Um... No. Why do you ask?"

Eosia's eyebrows raised at Lynette's response. "I am sorry!" She sighed, and added, "My people...most have husband by your age. Mine too. But I have no husband." She looked down, somewhat ashamed of the fact.

"Ah. Well that is the norm here as well." Lynette said with a slight nod. "Its not unusal to be betrothed before turning sixteen. But... well that wasn't the path laid out for me." She shrugged. "And there's more to life than being married anyways."

Eosia nodded, then asked, "Bet-roat...what is this?"

"To be betrothed is to be promised to marry." Lynette answered.

"Oh..." Suddently, Eosia seemed saddened. "I was...bet-roat. At birth."

"Guess Fate had a different plan for both of us then." Lynette gave her shoulder a soft squeeze. She lingered for a moment before saying "I'm afraid I must leave to attend some business at the palace. Perhaps we will speak again over dinner."

Eosia nodded, not looking up from the floor.

Later, after Eosia had gotten bathed and redressed, she walked into the room that all her shieldmaidens were in. They were singing and playing various native Scaveni instruments, with a few guards and servants hanging around them. When Eosia walked in, all of the shieldmaidens burst out laughing. Eosia grew red in the face. "It was all they had!" she yelled in Scaveni. One of the guards looked around in confusion.

"I don't get it, what is so humurous?" one of the guards asked. Nidd snorted, and pointed to her commander. 

"She is in a dress!" Eosia groaned, and sat down on the floor. After about five minutes of laughter and jokes, the rest of the shieldmaidens heard a familiar tune one of their comrades was playing. They began growing silent, as the girl began singing in Scaveni.

Down where the wind blows the leaves off the  trees,
And dwarves stood tall, their heads at your knees,
There lies the home of the men of the Knots,
A land that is lost, but a land not forgot.

The shieldmaiden singing this began tearing up, and moved to set aside her instrument. "Keep playing,"
Eosia requested, and the shieldmaiden looked at her hesitantly, then started playing the tune again. Eosia looked around her, and to the surprise of her subordinates, she began to sing.

Oh carry me, oh winds of Aea,
Bury me in flowers and mead,
And though times may be dark, through our will and our labor,
We'll be back in Scavenia, at least in our dreams.

More of the shieldmaidens began playing their instruments, and some of them started to harmonize with each other, a haunting and old ballad tossing itself into whichever ears would accept them. All knowing the song, the women began singing as a whole.

Down where the river babbles like a madman,
But the water tastes fresh, smooth like fine satin,
And our heroes, our comrades, their bodies there lie,
But though the land may be lost, the people won't die,

The women went back into the chorus, and began going through it a few more times, tears visibly streaming down many of their faces.

"A beautiful song from a group of beautiful ladies" A man said from where he was leaning against the side of the doorway. He his blonde hair and short beard gave his handsome face a rugged look. "Its a pity I couldn't understand the words." If there was any dishonesty in his words, they didn't show in his eyes. "I had heard that Lynette had some interesting guests, but the rumors don't do you justice."

Eosia stared at the man blankly while some of the women wiped the tears from their eyes.' Who are you?" she said, almost angrily, without bothering to move from her place on the floor.

"Ah for once my reputation doesn't precede me." The man gave her a warm smile. "Aldrick Cuvier at your service." He rendered a low bow, enhanced by a sweeping motion of his right arm. "I am a... good friend of the duchess. And you mi'lady?"

At his bow, the shieldmaidens burst out laughing. Ysa looked to Eosia, and in Scaveni asked "Do you think he fucks men?" Eosia chuckled for once, and crossed her arms, looking him up and down. "I am not sure," she replied in her native tongue, "I will ask him." She looked him square in the eyes, and with a stern face asked. "Do you...fuck men?"

"Nope. Do you?" He answered without missing a beat. He cocked an eyebrow as he waited for her response.

Eosia shook her head, an empty expression on her face. "No." Nidd tossed her an apple. "Women," she lied, as she took a bite from the fruit. A few of the shieldmaidens who understood the exchange started snickering quietly.

"What a coincidence!" Aldrick gave her a wide smile. "So do I! What kind of woman do you find attractive?"

The princess, still eating the apple, didn't saying anything in response, only nodding over to Nidd, who in turn turned around to Aldrick and waved at him with a grin. Nidd, though attractive, was far more muscular than Eosia, though not as skilled a warrior.

"If I had to guess..." Aldrick waved back at Nidd. "I'd peg you as the type to like strong women. And by strong I mean strength in character. Hmmm...." He started to walk over to Nidd even as he continued to speak to Eosia. "Fair hair and skin? Or are you more into tanned ladies?"

Eosia shrugged. Nidd reached suddly for a knife in her belt. Not at all fluent in the language Aldrick was speaking, she began speaking to Eosia in Scaveni. "What's he doing, is he coming onto me?" Eosia sighed. "No, he's just being a fool." Switching back to his language, she said to Aldrick, "Eh...fair. Skin and hair."

"Ah yes. Fair, yet strong, maidens are the best are they not?" Aldrick shot Eosia another friendly smile. "And of course one who speaks her mind and stands up for what she thinks is right is the best of all, wouldn't you say?"

The Scaveni Princess rolled her eyes and sighed.  How long would he keep yammering? "Yes. The best." Nidd still stared at him with unblinking eyes, though her hand had been taken off of her blade.

"I thought as much" His smile widened further, though whether that was because he was correct or due to the servant girl that had sauntered up to him and taken his arm in her own was unclear. Either way there was now a hard to miss mischievious glint in his eyes. "Why it sounds to me -and please correct me if I'm wrong- but it sounds to me like our fair duchess is exactly the type of woman you find attractive."

Not realizing what he said at first, Eosia rolled her eyes and started saying, "Y-" when she understood what he said. "NO!" She shouted, red in the face. Still not understanding the language, though understanding the shouting, Nidd quickly stood up, knife in hand, and went behind him, arm around his neck and knife pointed at his groin. "What happened, did he threaten you?" she asked in Scaveni.

Aldrick did his absolute best not to laugh and failed, letting out a long chuckle dispite the knife pointed at his groin. His laugh only intensified when one of the servant girls let out a squeel of delight, practically bounced over to Eosia, and grabbed hold of her hands as she yelled "We'll root for you!"

The mood in the room shifted when the servant girl fell to the floor, nose bloodied and broken. Eosia looked down on her, then to her first, still clenched tightly, glazed in red blood. Then she realized what happened. Last thing she remembered, Aldrick was laughing. Then an Einherjar Legionnaire rushed at her-no, that's not right. It was just the girl, making some stupid joke. Suddenly, her face filled with worry, and she collapsed to the girl's side.

"I am sorry! I...I didn't mean to..." Nidd sighed, and relaxed, letting Aldrick go, muttering, "Good fucking job," in Scaveni. If some of the shieldmaidens didn't know better, they would've sworn there were tears in Eosia's eyes.

The guards present had jumped to their feet, hands on the hilts of their swords. They hadn't drawn them yet, hadn't reacted beyond that as they seemed unsure as to what to do. Aldrick cleared his throat and made a lowering motion with his hand and, as a group, the guards seemed to settle back down. After a moment he commented "Well that joke went bad quick."

He walked over to Eosia and the fallen servant and fell down to a knee next to the girl. "Ah" He said as he rolled her over gently. "Looks like you got her pretty good." The girls nose was bent at an awkward angle, blood flowing freely from it. "But nothing we can't take care of at the temple."

He looked Eosia in the eyes, a look of understanding in his, as he quietly said "This isn't a battleground."

Eosia sniffed in, and took a deep breath. "The whole world is battleground." She stood up. "Just not all of it has been fought on." One of the shieldmaidens grabbed a bucket of water, and Eosia dipped her hand in it, the red of the girl's blood mixing in with the clear liquid, until the whole of the bucket was a murky brown. Eosia sat there for a moment, a tear dropping from her eye, giving one spot in the bucket a moment of clarity, before she turned to look at Aldrick again.

"I am Eosia, daughter of Vorin the King, child of House Jorgenson."

Legend of the Silver Legion (A Fantasy RP)

Spleen x Ekreture

Somewhere in Mycae, Scaveni Horde

The leaders of the usually separate hordes piled into the main tent of the king yet again. For the first time in two decades, the morale of the horde has actually seemed to raise, with children starting to play outside, and people regularly praying at the gods' shrines.

King Vorin sat on a mat; since the hordes were to leave the next morning, he'd rather not set up a whole table. He wore a robe, not feeling the need for armor being in Mycaean territory, and awaited as his advisors and the leaders of his people piled in; Drago, the scout, often seen as the hero of the Scaveni. Reimlyk the Younger, the dwarf hero and bearer of the Sword of Lodd, who know often speaks for the Dwarves. Sudd, his brother, and leader of one of the military hordes, with Lessik, the High Priest of Vascun and known werewolf following behind him. Wunal Luddsman, another leader of a military horde, and his close friend. His sons, hated by the commoners, but tolerated by the nobility. Rudik Greentree, the High Judge, and supervisor of the main horde. A few more followers, nobles, and Scaven members followed after, and after some pleasantries were exchanged, Vorin spoke up.

"As you may have noticed, my daughter, Eosia, is missing." There were worried murmers among the group. "Do not fret-I have sent her to establish relations with the nearest nation to the west...Corm...Corp..Cone..."

"Cormyral," corrected Drago. He and Reimlyk were the only ones in the test who still carried their weapons wherever they went. Vorin gazed at him with annoyanced, and gave a quick glance to the dragon on his neck. 

"Yes. But in the meanwhile, Rudik, how are the foodstores?" Rudik grew red in the face. He knew he would have to talk at some point, but even though the news wasn't terrible, it could still be better. And he didn't want anyone to harbor animosity towards the Mycaeans.

"Uh...well...the Mycaeans have refused to restock our food supplies...but we should be able to make it to this...Corn...mural...with food. If they agree to provide us with some food, we should be fine." Vorin nodded. 

"Good." He looked at Reimlyk. The dwarf was sitting off to the side watching a mouse run around on the floor. Every way it went, he would box it in, but for some reason it never gave up that it would find a way out. "Reimlyk, it's been awhile since I've heard your voice. How goes it in the dwarf camp?" Reimlyk looked up the King of the humans he travelled with.

"Good." Vorin raised an eyebrow. 

"Good?" Reimlyk nodded. "Pigs are fat. I haven't killed a tin man in a while. It is good."

"Ragnarok has begun" A feminine voice spoke up. "Just as was foretold three hundred years ago." The speaker stepped forward from the shadows where there clearly had been no one mere moments ago. She was dressed much as she was the previous times she had appeared before King Vorin and his men, in a simple brown cowl, the hood raised and the obviously unnatural shadows it cast completely hidding the top half of her face from view.

Wunal's eyebrows rose high. "The Sage!" As Drago looked over to her, his hand moved to his axe. He didn't like things he couldn't immediately understand...of course, she had always been helpful. But he wasn't sure where she's been leading them. King Vorin stood up from the mat and stepped towards her. "Sage, what is it you speak of?"

"Ragnarok" The Sage answered. "The End War and the ultimate objective of those you call the Einherjar." She seemed to look at each individual in turn before turning her gaze to Vorin. "All that has occured till now has been to sustain them and grow their power in preparation for this."

Sudd spit on the ground, his arms folded below his long, black beard. "If this is the end why have you led us here? Why not let us die as heroes in our homeland?" Lessik smiled at his lord's bravery in speaking in such away, licking the tips of his sharpened teeth. Rudik, on the otherhand, started sweating, nervous that she would lash out at the king's brother.

"I merely showed you a possible path." The Sage sounded almost amused. "It was you who chose to walk on it." She took a few steps towards Sudd and, despite being dwarfed by the man, somehow seemed to possess the presence of a much bigger entity. "What is a hero?" She asked after a moment. "A man who throws his life away for nothing?" She paused for a moment, almost as if inviting him to answer. "Or a man who sacrifices so that others may live?"

The king's brother grunted, and stood, looking at her directly in the eyes. "And what sort of living is this? Moving every night? Fighting an enemy that we could never defeat? Living in squalor in a land a continent away from where we are from?" The last question was a shout. He inhaled deeply, before saying, in a quieter voice, "I did not choose to be here." He looked to his brother. "I merely obeyed."

"ENOUGH!" Surprisingly, this did not come from the king. Reimlyk, dwarfed even by The Sage, now stood proudly. "Sudd, if you had died, there would have been more men. By Vascun's breath, Sjin, if all the Scaveni had died, there would have been more men. But only ten thousand of my kind still walk this earth, and I must see if there is a way to keep them on it." He looked to the Sage. "So? Is there?" Sudd, still disconent, grunted and sat back down.

"This continent has strength enough to fend off this threat." The Sage said. "But it is divided. Distracted. Vulnerable. Its greatest power, Mycae, will be hit early and hard. Whether the blow shatters the rest or helps consolidate them..." The Sage shrugged. "The hearts of men are hard to read."

Reimlyk had sat down while she spoke. Drago, still sitting, gazed at her, and spoke, not standing with the same passion as his comrades. "And us? What is our part in this? Yes, you showed us a path, but why? There were countless lands and peoples closer to this continent than Scavenia. Why have you chosen us while all others perished?" His hand had moved off of his axe. He was leaning back, but very curious about her answer to this question.

"A wise friend once told me 'you ought not look a gift horse in the mouth.'" Her lips turned upwards ever so slightly at the memory. "Will you waste your questions on my motivations or seek knowledge about these lands you find yourself in?"

Drago rolled his eyes. Now Vorin spoke again. "I have sent my daughter to Cormyral. Will she be safe there? And can they help us?" He seemed more worried as he spoke about his daughter than in anything else he spoke of. The princes, by now, as usual, had left, and were now off tormenting some commoners somewhere.

"Cormyral has food enough to feed your people" The Sage answered, "and still have some to spare. But it is not a monolithic entity. And there is much fear in that country. To its west is the Kingom of Riawin, which until recently controlled Cormyral. Mycae is also an object of great fear in Cormyral as, even though Mycae aided it against Riawin, it could also invade. There are whispers of the war with Riawin resuming." She paused before adding "That would be most unfortunate given events in the east."

Sudd leaned forward. "What of this Riawin? Will we be forced to take a side, or could we make arrangements with both? I cannot imagine it would be easy for them to put aside their hatreds." 

Lessik spoke up for the first time that day. "Who of them are stronger?"

"I cannot read the hearts of men" The Sage said to Sudd. "Who you side with, if anyone, is entirely up to you." She turned towards Lessik and spread her arms out to either side. "They are both powerful, but in different ways. Riawin has three distinct military groups, each that follows different leaders and employs different tactics. Despite this clear division of leadership, as a whole these armies are unified by their loyalty to Riawin and their 'Empress'. Cormyral's troops are experts of skirmishing and possess exquisite bow cavalry, but their loyalties lie with their ruling nobles first and the country as a whole second. Despite this division of loyalty, they are still united by their fear of external threats. In the end Cormyral won its independence from Riawin, but some would say that was due to the Empress's disinterest in continuing the war."

Drago still sat back, eyeing her inquisitively. "Do you speak to Cormyral? Or Riawin? Or Mycae? Do you just speak to us?" There was silence in the room for a second, before the scout sighed and lept up from the floor. "Forgive me for being apprehensive, Sjin, but after twenty years of flight, I think I've earned the right. I am aware of your refusal to say why you've made the Scaveni your...project. But I at least want to know if we're in any way unique."

"Do you wish to believe yourselves to be some kind of 'chosen' people?" The Sage asked.

Drago stepped closer. His arms were crossed, his upper teeth digging into his lower lip. Though his eyes showed know fear, the many other members of the Scaven in the room did. "I wish to know the truth." There was a fire in his breath.

"And if I refused to speak?" The Sage closed the distance between them, coming close enough that he could easily wrap his arms around her. She turned her head up to look at him, her lips forming a smile. "Would you beat me? Strangle me? Rip my hood off and pull my eyes out of my head? Wrap those arms of yours around me and crush me in their embrace till I stopped moving?" For a moment her smile seemed to widen, but suddenly her lips flattened into a frown. "What value is there to the truth if it doesn't aid you?"

Though he didn't move, Drago's spirit seemed to step back a little, his eyebrow raising at her violent descriptions. "The Mycaeans...they speak of a prophecy...one of a darkness. I am to guess the Einherjar, your Ragnarok...they are a part of it." The Scout relaxed his arms, and leaned forward. "Nowhere in this prophecy do they speak of half a million refugees pouring over the borders." He moved his hand over his beard. "Ten years fighting, you wonder how you're alive. Twenty years...you ask why. Forgive me if I offended the Sjin with my intrusiveness...and I would not hurt The great Sage." He turned to sit back down on his mat, but before he did, added on, "Although if others have in the past, I am sorry."

"You need not answer for the crimes of others" The Sage said after a moment, almost sounding disappointed. "The... so called Prophetess of these lands was a powerful being, but she was far from perfect. Otherwise she would not have given that final prophecy while being burned at the stake." The Sage shook her head as she spoke and gave a small shrug. "But to answer your question from earlier: I am, as of yet, unknown to the peoples of these lands. Now then..." She turned back towards the king. "Is there any other answers you seek?"

Vorin studied her for a moment, and, just as he began to shake his head, Wunal spoke up. "The gods. Do they still watch us? Lodd? Wanous? Aea?" He paused. "I...I know...you may not be able to answer this question. But...you must have some divine knowledge if you have known all that you do!"

The Sage regarded Wunal for a moment, seeming unsure whether to answer or not. After a moment she opened her mouth to speak. "The old gods have long since abandoned us. Can you not sense the gradual weakening of magic as their blood in us" She placed a hand over her chest, "becomes ever more dilluted. With every passing year the dragons become less magnificent, the children of mages that much more mundane. We are dying out and soon all that is left in this world will be mundane." She paused, sniffed, a smile spreading across her face again. "Or perhaps I will be proven wrong and they shall return."

Wunal simply nodded, and looked away from her. Lessik bared his teeth when she said they had been abandoned. Drago looked down, finding himself clutching onto his dragon pendant. It seemed warmer than normal. Reimlyk laughed. "Lodd left us out in the darkness and all I get is his lousy sword."

"That is more than most ever recieved from the old gods" The Sage turned as if she meant to return to the shadows from which she had made her entrance. She paused, however, as a thought occured to her. "They are close behind you." She said to Vorin. "Lord Goscelin has already fought mighty warriors from these lands."  She let out a long sigh. "He found them wanting. One of the four is dead. Another they are no feeding on. The remaining two are in flight."

Vorin stroked his beard. "Do we seek them? Will they find us?" He sighed. "I swear, you get more cryptic with every visit."

"They will either escape on their own or fall short." The Sage answered. "There is nothing you can do to alter their fate. I tell you only so you realize just how close the Einherjar are." She smiled at him. "Or would you rather I have just said something cryptic?"

Vorin nodded, embarrassed. "The hordes will split tomorrow, and we will resume our travelling westward. Thank you." Drago laughed. "Would The Sage like some mead before she heads back to the shadows?" He now laid back on the floor, with his head on the mat, looking up at the tent roof. He hated how powerless he felt sometimes.

The Sage shook her head as she turned away, but even so the ghost of a smile was visible to those looking. "Perhaps I will accept such a sacrifice another time." She said as she walked towards the shadows. "Although I would much prefer wine." She reached the shadows and walked into them, completely disappearing from view. "Perhaps if you prepare some and pray hard enough for my presence I'll come."

Levine, Kingdom of Cormyral

The royal palace in Levine was by no means one of the great architectural wonders of the continent. It was a modest building, at least in terms of palaces, located in the center of town. What set it apart from most others was it had clearly been added to in recent years. New standards were evident throughout the building, new fur and cloth rugs. Even the doors that led to the throne room looked brand new.

"Prince Madec will see you and your party now" One of the soldiers who guarded those doors said to Princess Eosia. Something that would have become evident to her and those in her party early on was that the city, no the entire country, was preparing for war.

The doors were opened to admit the princess entry, granting her view of a large, but mostly empty, throne room. Towards the back was the throne, an elder man rested upon it. He didn't immediately notice the princess and her group, his attention on a young woman who stood to his side, discussing or arguing with him. As if to contrast the prince, the woman was young, in her mid to late twenties, and dressed in chain mail armor. An arming sword sheathed at her hip.

Eosia somewhat mirrored the young woman, still adorned by a full suit of scale armor, with a large shield in her hand, and her sword in her belt. She was followed by eleven of her shieldmaidens, all dressed in a similar fashion. The looked around; despite the modest nature of the palace, it still impressed them, being one of the first true buildings they stood in in years. Eosia looked between the two of them, unsure of who to approach; her grasp of their language was somewhat limited, and she still found gender to be confusing. Still uncertain, she simply stepped forward, placing her clench fist on her chest as a Scaveni sign of respect. 

"Sjenna, it is great honor speaking with you," said the warrior princess. "I come, represent my people. Scaveni." Her hair, unallowed to cut it as according to Scaveni custom, was tied in a side braid which trailed down to her chest.

"Sjenna..." The old man leaned forward in his throne. "Scaveni. These words are unknown to me."

The young woman frowned at her liege before turning towards Eosia. "This is his Majesty, Prince Madec. And I am Duchess Langelier." She gave Eosia a slight bow. "What brings you to our lands?"

The shieldmaidens behind Eosia were muttering to each other, pointing to the Duchess, with one word being heard above others; 'Gjerla'. Eosia nodded at her in thanks. She was nervous, used to war, not diplomacy. "I, Scaveni. My people, Scaveni. My father...he is...no prince..." She thought for a moment for the correct word. "King."

She built up the sentences in her head before continuing. "I am Eosia, child of Vorin. My people were once many, but now, not...we are from far. Far from this...Askor? Fought from home...Scavenia. The Einherjar...they fought us long. Since I was small. We...need travel through these lands."

Prince Madec raised an eyebrow as he exchanged a look with the Duchess. "Your people traveled here from beyond the mountains?"

The Duchess' frown deepened. "Einherjar.... Are they still pursuing you after so long? You must be at least twenty years old. How many of you are there? Where are you going?"

"And what" Madec cut in, "Does Girla... Geja... Gjerla? What does that mean?"

At the prince's question, Eosia's face grew red. "Gjerla...it is, eh...kin of spirit?" She looked to the Duchess. "We are Feljirtas...eh...women of shields. You are too. So we Gjerla." She looked down. How is she getting embarrassed? She's sliced through fields of Einherjar like a knife through butter, but meeting with some lord she gets embarrassed? She looked back at them. "Einherjar...yes, twenty years. How long they have...purse-ued. I am twenty and five. Eh..." She tried figuring out how many there were.

"Half of one...melon. There are half of one melon Scaveni." She reddenned at the snickers of the guards, then realized her mistake. "Million! Half of one million Scaveni." She paused. "The Einherjar...they will destroy the...Mai-say. So we go west."

"That sounds disturbingly like the prophecy." The Duchess commented. Prince Madec simply rolled his eyes.

"Why you believe such nonsense is beyond me." He said. "We have greater concerns than your fairy tail. We both know the Riawins are spoiling for a fight."

"And this Einherjar threat?" The Duchess turned slightly towards her liege while keeping an eye on the Scaveni.

"They are Mycae's problem." The prince answered, eliciting a small shake of the head from the Duchess. "We don't even know if they" he gestured towards the Scaveni, "are speaking the truth."

"True." The Duchess agreed. "But we soon will. Cedric will return with the answers we seek."

The Prince scowled at her. "We will discuss that later." He returned his full attention to Eosia. "You wish to move a half million people through our lands?" His eyes narrowed. "That's an army."

Fairy tale. The words were ringing in Eosia's head. That this spoiled Prince dared to degrade her and her people's struggle as a mere story...she felt a rage build inside of her. But, as she was about to start shouting, she closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. Rage would get her nowhere. Instead, she handed her shield to one of her maidens, and looked up at the two of them. "May I pull sword, Sjenna?"

The Prince seemed to be about to say 'no', but simple shrugged and gestured for her to do so. The Duchess didn't say anything, but nodded to Eosia, resting the forearm of her left arm on the hilt of her sword.

Eosia nodded in thanks, slowly drawing out her sword, and resting the blade in her offhand, holding it as a presentation rather than a weapon. She slowly approached the throne, before kneeling down in reaching distance of The Prince and saying, "You may take."

The sword itself was beautiful. The blade was made of a fine Dwarven steel, and the hilt of silver. The pommel was shaped like Wanous's axe, and despite years of use, it has clearly been shown a certain respect and affection from its user.

That said, bloodstains covered the blade, and the sword of a whole. But these bloodstains were not the red or oxidized brown of humans. It was black, black like tar. It seemed like it was a shadow that had been turned to a liquid, a darkness that had enveloped this fine blade.

The Prince took the offered sword, looking it over only as a true swordsman would. His eyes narrowed as he took in the bloodstains. They were odd, unknown to him. After a few moments of observation he returned the sword to Eosia. "This proves little."

The Duchess let out a fustrated sigh. "I've never seen bloodstains such as those."

"Nor I" The Prince agreed. "But all that it proves is that out there" He gestured towards the East, "are creatures with strange blood. So tell me" He seemed to be addressing both the Duchess and Eosia, "would you have me handle a known enemy on my doorstep or ignore that to prepare for some distant entity that I do not know of?"

"Riawan," spoke the Princess, "why are they enemy?" She asked, sheathing he sword and standing up, before taking a step back, though not returning to her original location.

"We were once one country" The Duchess answered. "But we had some... disagreements in how the country should be run and who should have power. Needless to say we could come to no compromise, so we decided to break free. Obviously the empress of Riawin didn't take too kindly to that."

The Princess nodded, with a look of understanding on her face despite the lack of it inside of her. "That is much reasons. Einherjar has no reasons. They kill. They fight. They torture. They know nothing else." She paused. "I not ask you to send army to fight them. I ask for you to let Scaveni through your land." She took a deep breath. "And for food for them."

The Prince leaned back into his throne and although he said nothing, the look in his eyes was one of denial. He was observing the Scaveni princess, perhaps trying to decide exactly how to word his denial. The Duchess shifted her stance, her chain mail clincing as she did so. She glanced up at the prince before saying "You may travel through my lands."

"What?" The Prince sounded like he wasn't sure what he just heard. "You can't-"

"Yes I can" The Duchess cut him off. "The throne may control the royal capital and highways, but it does not control movement through the lands of the aristocracy."

"Your lands are nowhere near the border. They have no route through the country." The Prince countered.

"Then we need only negotiate with the various lords." The Duchess stated. "And we have food enough to feed both our army and the Scaveni."

By this point the Prince's face had gone entirely red and, for a moment, he looked about to explode. He didn't, however, and instead took a few calming breaths, perhaps realizing that now wasn't the time to force a confrontation with the Duchess. He took one final breath before calmly asking "But do they have the means to pay for our food?"

At this, for the first time in the meeting, Eosia smiled. She yelled out, "Da!" And two shieldmaidens stepped forward, carrying a massive chest, covered in engravings of dragons, gods, and trolls. The chest alone would have been worth a fortune, but they unlatched the lock, and opened it up. It was filled with not only treasures of the Scaveni, but treasures from the many ruined cities and castles the Scaveni had encountered on their trek. There were gold coins, jewels and jewelry, as well as weapons, in addition to some scrolls and books written in various languages.

"This...from my personal treasure." She looked to the Prince, and sarcastically said, "Is it...good?"

The Prince's eyes lit up as he took in the fortune. "Yes. Yes it is."

"A pity you won't be able to tax this." The Duchess said with a wide grin, "since they won't be using the highways or coming here to the capital."

The Prince frowned, but shrugged after a moment. "Yes, I suppose it is. But keep in mind that I will hold you personally responsible should they cause any issues."

"Of course." The Duchess rendered a low bow, her tone belying the rolling of her eyes that the bow had hidden.

"Is that all you wished to discuss?" The Prince asked.

Eosia nodded, satisfied in what she had accomplished. "Eh...there is one more though...would you host my women and me before my people come..." she turned the Duchess and said, "...Gjerla?"

"I have an estate her in the capital. It may be a bit cramped with so many guests, but I should be able to house all of you if a few of your.... servants? Don't mind sharing a bed." The Duchess said.

The Scaveni princess nodded with a fist to her chest. "Of course Gjerla, we have done this before...but they are not servants...they are warriors. Pardon the correction, it is just they fought their lives...I speak for them in saying they are servant to no man."

"My apologies... Gjerla" The Duchess tested the word, not quite pronouncing it right, but getting close enough. "I should have showed more respect to your retinue." She paused for a moment before continuing. "I have some more business to see to here in the palace, but I could have a few guards show you the way to my estate now if you wish."

The princess nodded. "That would be much thanked." She turned to the Prince. "Thank for...hearing me." She put her fist to her chest again before turning to leave, then stopped to ask. "Oh...where would I send the horse?"

"My servants will see to the needs of your retinue and horses once you arrive at my estate" The Duchess answered.

Eosia blushed. "No...eh...my father sends horse from his line with me as gift for host...I thought it would be the Prince, but it seems it is not the case..."

"The Duchess is your host." The Prince answered. "It is only right that she recieves this gift."

Eosia nodded. "Gjerla...I will bring it to...ess-tate?"

"Yes" the Duchess said with a nod. "and I will follow you to the estate shortly."

Legend of the Silver Legion (A Fantasy RP)

(Collab with @Monkeypants)

Southern Mycae, Scaveni Camp

 
The horse was taking too long. Its face was buried deep in the trough of water, lapping up the liquid as frothy drops fell from its face. Drago stood by, impatiently, with a few of his men behind him. He was to search out the immediate area and identify the land which the Scaveni now occupied. Of course, he could only start this mission after his horse stopped drinking up their water supply.

Sighing, the scout looked up, when his eyes, sharp like Wanous's axe, spotted two dots in the distance; men. Clearly, they didn't want to be seen, as they fell to the floor of the plains. Drago could tell two things from this; one, these men haven't yet seen battle to the same extreme as the Scaveni, or else they would've fled at the sight of the camp. Two, these lands belong to someone who knew not of the Scaveni's prescense, or else they wouldn't have approached on their feet.

Drago swiftly leapt atop his horse, pulling its head away from the trough, and kicked it towards the men. Those of his men who were mounted quickly followed.

"Run for it!" was cried out as the two Mycaeans burst out from their cover. They attempted to navigate the tall grass in ways to throw the riders off but it was a wide open field, making them rather easy prey. The first man, stumbling over the weight of his armor, fell onto his face, screaming out to the other. This other guard, either by cowardess or lack of perception, left his fallen comrade behind. 

The first guard began grasping at the dirt as if to somehow pull himself away from the oncoming cavalry but found himself overwhelmed easily. The second, upon finally realizing he was alone and the treeline was still far off, finally stopped and turned about to give in to these unknown men from the east.

The Scaveni riders surrounded the two guards, as Drago approached, looking at the two of them. Huh. Usually humans were a welcome sight. Speaking up in his native language, he said, "You don't happen to speak Scaveni, do you?" Already knowing the answer, he sighed, and dismounted, beginning to speak in the most recent language he's picked up on the road.

He first looked to the more distant guard, shouting in a thick accent. "You'll do more harm to your health by running in that armor than by coming back here, boy." He stood completely unarmored, with only his small axe in his belt, his hand on top of it in case either of them try anything, which is unlikely. He looked to the guard on the floor. "Quite a friend to leave you in the dirt, eh?" He chuckled, then kneeled to him, giving him his water horn. "Tell me, what are these lands called?"

The grounded guard looked up to Drago, "Myc-Mycae." he said, clearly nervous. While the other man in the field slowly started towards the four men. His arrival was quick but he still kept his distance, enough to talk clearly but far beyond the range of a thrusting spear.

His words were simple, "Who are you."

Drago waited for the guard to take the horn in his outstretched hand, but saw that the gift wasn't being recieved, frowned and stood back up. Not looking back at the other guard, he stated simply but loud enough to hear, "I am Drago. I do not know Mycae...do you live in houses or tents?"

"H-Houses?" The man answered. He finally got the courage to look Drago in the eyes, "W-why are you here?"

At this news, the blankness on Drago's face shifted, back straightened with his eyes open wide. He looked around to his men, before shouting one word; "Skuya!" At this, the rest of the horseman all started muttering to each other, that word, Scaveni for 'houses', being thrown around quite a bit. In Scaveni, Drago, instructed one of the men to report back to camp, before turning to the guard again. "Have your people not yet faced the Einherjar?"

"Ein-?" The guard said, "Is that some sort of predator?" 

Drago swallowed, twenty years of war and flight encapsulating his mind. "Yes. But worse." He looked around, biting his lip, before looking back to the guard. "My people mean yours no harm. We have been driven from our homes, in search of a new one. I am Drago Windwalker, Scavenjed of the Third Order. Please, I must speak with who leads you...there is a darkness to the east of here, one the likes of which you have never seen.

At this Drago mounted his horse. "My people...we are Scaveni,"

The Guard who had been standing narrowed his eyes, not as if to focus on a foe but it was that he had heard of something long ago, "I remember a prophecy, well, I heard it from a shady looking man in a tavern." The man on the ground shook his head, "You seriously listen to those stories?"

"Yes, you should always heed words of doom." The first motioned towards the forest, "There is someone who would benefit from your information."

Drago kicked the side of his horse, following them. A female archer in his scouting party placed her hand on an arrow, and spoke up in Scaveni. "Should I kill them? Could be Einherjar agents." Drago put his hand up. "Let us follow a while. Einherjar would send more men to kill me if it's a trap. Still though...go back to camp. Tell the King I've left to meet with some locals. The rest of you...follow." She nodded, and rode off, while the rest of his scouting party, two men on horseback, followed him into the forest.

It had been three grueling hours of ride on horseback as the group finally approached the castle. The weather had changed drastically by the time they had arrived. The bright sun had been replaced by joyless clouds and a constant change between hard rain and a cold drizzle that had by now, nearly soaked their clothing. 

The dreary weather was nothing in comparison to the massive fortress that stood high into the sky, and instead of a true moat, a deep crack in the earth did well to prevent any would be attackers from scaling the walls easily. Flanking the castle was a large mountain and a range that followed, making that direction near impossible for a large army to traverse with any order. 

At the base of this castle, across from the crag, sat a large city that contained everything from holy places to foreign gods to the taverns where the sins repented at the church were regained. The five made their way through the city and finally reached the castle gates. Drago and the Scaveni sat on their horses in front of the castle, the two scouts with mouths agape, and Drago swallowing deeply. This is the largest settlement by far that they've seen in two decades. Memories of home filled them as the two Guards said a few words to a gate keeper, followed by a simple nod and the dropping of a solid metal drawbridge. 

"Welcome to Winwaith Castle." The first man said. "This is where we stop." He continued before dismounting his horse. The Guards were met by something of their own that they feared, Legion Knights whom silently motioned for the three Scaveni to follow, and for the two Guards to return to their homes.

The ascent to the near top of the castle was nearly as grueling as the three hour ride. Stairs were seemingly in all directions, and doors that had no signifier as to what they could possibly contain. But the two Knights knew their direction without any second thought. While the Scaveni men were certainly impressed by the intricit designs of the castle, it was nothing compared to when they passed the kitchen. At the scent of fresh food, and possibly even the prospect of ripened fruit, the mens stomachs growled, mouths watering, one of the scouts even starting to drift away from the Knights, but Drago pulled him back. He was sure food would come later. Now, they must finish their hike.
 
And upon reaching a set of gilded doors, and inside was a sight to behold, a true and well adorned bassilica, furnished with manniquins wearing armor of intricate and rare design, holding weaponry of alien design to even their owner.At the opposite end of this massive room was a large stained glass window, facing the east, and at it, a feminine figure draped in shadows, only momentarily lit by the occasional strike of lightning. "Lord General, we have escorted three men who claim to know of the prophecy." one said, before bowing out. The figure nodded as it stared out the window. 

"Welcome to my Castle." the voice said with a commanding yet with a soft feminine tone. She turned to face them, "I am Lord General Joannah. May I ask where you are from?"

Drago stepped through the doors, looking at the woman. He wasn't used to a woman in this sort of role as a leader, but now wasn't the time to be rude. Instinctively, his hand moved to his Scaven Knot, making sure it was in place to signify his rank, as he motioned for his men, hesitantly waiting by the door, to follow.

"Scavenia, a land you are unlikely to know...and a land which is long gone." He walked in further, and put his fist to his chest, a Scaveni military salute, and said. "I am Drago Wildwalker, Scavenjed of the Third Order." He relaxed his hand, and glanced around the room, strangely confidant for a man of such a scrawny frame. "I must say, Sjin, this is quite a hall you've built..." He looked back to her. "Mice...ayy. Mice-ay, that is the name of this land? Correct?"

"Yes, this is the name of my homeland." Joannah paused to stare out of the window, watching as three figures made their way out of the castle. She sighed before turning back to them, "You said you're from Scavenia, and it has been... destroyed?" Her pause led to a number of steps towards them. Her figure became far more visible, with long flowing black hair that fell past her shoulders. She fixed her gaze upon Drago's eyes, "Tell me... What was it that destroyed your home?"

Drago stood tall as she approached, and said one word that sent a rush of fear through his men; "Einherjar."

She cocked her head in confusion, "What is an Einherjar? Is that your people's name for the prophecy?" Her unflinching gaze at Drago continued, staring deep into his eyes, "Are they the enemy that we have been searching for?"

Uncomforted by her gaze and closeness, Drago instictively moved his hand to his axe, before relaxing it and breathing out. "I apologize, Sjin, it has been...a while...since I have met a foreign face not trying my demise."  He coughed, and continued. "I know not of this...prophecy...you speak of..." He looked away from her. "But yes...I don't know why you would search for them...but the Einherjar are most certainly an enemy." He licked his lips. "They have pursued our people from our homeland for...what...twenty years now..ungodly creatures, with the looks of a man, but the spirit of something far more evil." He turned from her.

"It is because of them that about half a million of my people are camped in your homeland...Mice-ay."

Joannah, noticing Drago's subtle movements for his axe and stepped back calmly. "So did your people not dare to put up a fight?" He grimaced, and she frowned, "Perhaps that wasn't the right question. So what are your plans now? you're on the doorstep of a far and wide empire. And it seems the only direction for you is through us."

Drago took a deep breath. "It is not for me to decide. It is for the king...and for the Scaven...if the King permits..." He paused, before saying, with a bit more disdain in his voice. "By the way, we did dare to fight...most of us even refused to leave." He sniffed. "They are dead. The Einherjar will not stop...they will attack you soon, so we cannot stay. If you could find the kindness, Sjinn, my people would surely appreciate the permission of yours to move through this land, as well as some food...we haven't eaten a fresh apple in decades. In exchange...I would gladly share my knowledge of fighting the Darkness."

"An Apple?" Joannah said, surprised at such a simple request. "I am sure we can arrange for an apple. But the grander desire of food.." she took a deep breath, "Feeding, as you have said, half of a million people, is a very tall order. This isn't something we can even consider. But moving through our land seems somewhat reasonable, so long as you stay to specific areas I will direct you." Her frown turned to a smile, "If this amendment to your request can be agreed upon, I'd very much like to hear about this 'Darkness'."

Legend of the Silver Legion (A Fantasy RP)

Southeastern Mycae

Drago bent down, staring close to the ground at the strange sight that was in his eyes. He bent down to touch it, the dirt and dried blood caked beneath his fingernails a stark contrast to the blue of the flower's petals. The scout and Scaven member plucked it up, bringing it to his nose, taking in the sweet fragrance. One of his fellow scouts approached him. "What is that, Windwalker?"

"Flower." Some of the other scouts listening to their commander nearby started muttering to each other. The initial scout that approached him spoke up again. "They got flowers here?"

"Aye. Seems that way." Drago stood up, not taking the flower from his sights. "We should get back to camp." The other members of the scouting party began to follow him, and another one spoke up. "What of the Einherjar? Shouldn't we make a more thorough search?" Not looking back, Drago replied, "Einherjar don't leave flowers."

The High Judge, Rudik Greentree, studied the flower in his hand. His tent was filled with members of the Scaven, as well as onlookers, onlookers who shot out from the tent as well, gathered in the thousands with the rumors that Drago found a flower. "Drago." The scout and hero of the Scaveni stood before him. "Yes, Judge?" The judge licked the dry on his lips. He looked around at the room full of hopeful faces, all wanting to hear him say the thought they were thinking. "When was the last time you saw the Einherjar?"

Drago thought back. Time was something hard to tell in the horde; hours and days mixed together in with the months and years. But he focused back. "About two months ago." There were excited murmers among the representatives. Rudik stood up. He wanted to say something, something to finally bring hope and joy to these people who knew nothing but destitution. He looked into the crowd; there were children. Children whose entire lives were spent in tents. He looked to the elderly, who spent most of their lives on farms and in cities, but whose pride and livelihoods were ripped away. He looked to the Scaven, the ancient institution which he headed, once the pride of his nation, as well as the namesake, now reduced to old men yelling about matters in which they have no say. He needed something to say. But he found nothing.

Luckily, he was interrupted. A man frantically ran into the room. "The king...has signaled for a convergence!"

The King's Horde

Convergences were rare for the Scaveni, only happening if there is a need for a major decision. Convergences, of course, were a temporary unification of the four hordes. While creating a larger military force, it also presented the fact that were they to be wiped out, there would be no Scaveni left. But strangely, people were far less fearful at this convergence. Like most convergences, it began with old friends greeting each other, visits to shrines of gods that didn't exist in other hordes, and fighters heading off to the civilian horde to find some gullible women. And some of these gullible women were brought to the Princes.

"I promise, if you do this, your children won't need for food for a year!" said Crown Prince Alyn. The woman on her knees looked away from him. "I...I'm not sure..." Alyn put his hand on her face, and moved it to look at him. "Hey...think about the children..." The woman nodded sadly, and began taking off her robe, revealing her body, malnourished and dehydrated. Just then, Princess Eosia walked into the tent. "Brother-" seeing the woman, she gasped and looked away, as the woman shrieked, covering herself and running out from the tent. Eosia looked back to him, disappointed. "Taking advantage of the commoners again, I see?"

Alyn smirked, and laid back on his bed. "Why have the power if you won't use it, Sister?" The princess stepped forward and smacked him across the face, before turning around to leave, saying, "Father wants us present at the meeting. Make yourself decent."

The leaders of the four hordes all sat in the Meeting Tent, as well as some of the more notable followers of the hordes. Drago was of course present, as were the children of the King. Representing the Dwarves was Reimlyk the Younger, bearer of the Sword of Lodd. The King spoke up. "For the first time in twenty years, we need not worry for our immediate safety." Nobody else in the room replied. "But we know not what these lands are, or who they belong to." Drago spoke up. "I will set out for the roads, find the nearest town." King Vorin nodded. "That would be wise...but first Drago...sleep." The scouts eyebrows knitted. "What?" Vorin looked to him. "Drago...you need to rest." Drago sat back in his chair. "Yes..."

Sudd, the King's brother, spoke up. "And now what do you want us to do, Brother? We've been fighting for two decades!" The King didn't make eye contact with him. "Sleep." Sudd's face scrunched up at this. "What?" "Sleep, Brother. Rest. We need to rest." Sudd leaned forward. "Well what do I tell my men?" The King looked at him. "That. Rest." The King stood up from his chair. "Tommorrow, Drago will scout the area. Wunal, tell the hunters and gatherers to do just that, we're low on food. But now, we rest." With that, the King exited his own meeting, making no time for bravado or inspiration.

That night, Drago walked into his family's tent. His wife, Vila, woke up and turned to him. "Drago, how was the meeting?" Drago simply grunted and fell onto the bed roll, then slept in the first time for what felt like forever.

Legend of the Silver Legion (A Fantasy RP)

The Scaveni Kingdom

The Scaveni Kingdom

Government

There are two parts to the Scaveni government, at least traditionally in the old lands. One part is the royals and nobility; they own the lands, set the laws of the lands, and are in charge of the military. But governance on a day to day basis largely lies in the hands of the Scaven, the namesake of the kingdom. The Scaven are a democratically elected force layered from the smallest family unit. Every family in the Kingdom chooses one representative to represent them in the local village's branch of the Scaven. The village then selects a representative to elect them in the region, region to province, province to Kingdom, led by the High Judge, who also acted as a direct link to the king. At least, that's how it was before the Invasion. Now, the nobles have taken on a much larger role in governance, and the power of the Scaven has been largely reduced, though the power of the High Judge is largely retained, mostly in a capability as an advisor. The current king is Vorin II, and the High Judge is Rudik Greentree. All members of the Scaven have a special knot in their hair to signify their rank

Scaven Knot

Geography

Their kingdom was once made of forests and fertile plains. Now, they are landless, and are at the southeastern border of Mycae.

Culture

Though they are now seen in Askor as a warrior people, historically, the Scaveni were wise and cultured, far from the barbarian stereotype they now embody. They are largely one human ethnicity, again known as Scaveni, usually with fairer skin and brown hair, however, around three percent of their population is now Dwarven. Previously, the Dwarves lived in independent settlements within the Kingdom, but during the invasion, the vast majority of the Dwarves died in battle, refusing to uproot themselves from their home and their lands like the Humans. A few thousand of the dwarves lived on, and now live among the Scaveni in the camps, largely working as blacksmiths and pig farmers. Religion is also very important to the Scaveni, and all Scaveni schools of magic are based on what god that magic derives from. Below are some of the more important gods of the Scaveni.

Vascun

Vascun is the wolf god. What is the god of is a somewhat foreign concept known as Visi, which has no direct translation, but is somewhere between 'power', 'survival', and 'darkness'. Visi is basically the quantity to which someone has a capability of surviving, as well as exerting their power on others. Followers of Vascun believe that to raise one's Visi, they must forsake morality, and instead view the world through a primal and survivalistic view of it. Priests of Vascun have the ability to transform into wolves, as well as the more devoted followers of Vascun. In the days of the Settled Kingdom, worship of Vascun was prohibited, but since the uprooting, the king declared Vascun worship to be legal, and werewolves now fight alongside the other Scaveni. Worship of Vascun often involves sacrifice of animals. While Vascun worship is getting increasingly more popular, enmity towards Vascun worshippers is also high, due to a chunk of them joining the Einherjar. His pendant is a wolf head.

Aea

Aea is the goddess of the family, of farming, and of fertility. She is easily one of the most popular goddesses in the Scaveni pantheon, with a huge number of people, especially women, wearing her pendants. Priestesses of Aea have to be female, and are expert healers and physicians. It's largely because of the priestesses of Aea that Scaveni casualties as a result of the Einherjar are much lower than they could be. The Scaveni believe that Aea breathed life into humanity, and it's because of this that her Priestesses are tasked to sustain it. The Temple of Aea once contained large quantities of scrolls about medicine and healing, and while the Temple was lost, its collection was brought with the Kingdom. Her pendant is a figurine of her.

Lodd

Lodd is the Scaveni god of war, duty, and the forest. He was once a powerful beastman in the forest that surrounded the Kingdom of the Gods. When hunters and loggers reported being attacked by a beastman, the King of the Gods sent a warband to capture him, but he instead captured them and had them guarded by a pack of wolves. The king of the Gods then sent a second warband, which was again captured and guarded by a pack of wild boars. A third warband was sent, which was captured and guarded by a group of panthers. The king of the gods then went into the forest himself and wrestled Lodd into submission. Lodd, amazed to find a being more powerful than himself, swore his undying loyalty to the King of the Gods, who in turn made Lodd a god. The animals also swore loyalty to the King of the Gods, and the wolves were turned into dogs, the panthers into cats, and the boars into pigs. The King asked Lodd why he attacked the men, and Lodd answered that he saw the humans cutting down trees, and were afraid they would cut down what he was guarding, the World Tree. Lodd led the King to the World Tree, and the king climbed it, and found a greater realm higher up the tree. He and the rest of the gods then ascended to rule the whole of the universe, with the humans left to govern our realm. This event is known as the 'Taming of Lodd'. This is also believed to be the origin of Vascun, who, when Lodd was tamed, escaped from him, the embodiment of Lodd's wild spirit.

The magic used by followers of Lodd tends to be focused on the manipulation of nature, such as elemental magic, animal control, and the control of plant growth. Lodd's pendant is a horn.

Wanous

Wanous is the Scaveni King of the Gods, as well as the god of lighting. It is believed that our realm was once inhabited by a dying race, who, to prevent the realm from being taken over by the Trolls, created four things; Wanous, the perfect warrior and leader, Fasdan, his axe, with which he could control the storms, Taessa, the queen goddess, and the Goddess of fire and wisdom, with whom he could create new life, and the Dragon, to keep the power of Wanous in check. After creating these four creations, the Ancient Race disappeared, but Wanous killed the Trolls with Fasdan. He tried to expand from the realm, but found himself battling with the Dragon, and grew weary of fighting, neither winning nor losing, and withdrew back to the realm, where he fell in love with Taessa, and the two of them birthed Aea and the first generation of gods. Priests of Wanous channel the power of lightning for their form of magic, but also study the stars. His pendant is his axe, Fasdan.

Taessa

Taessa is the queen of the gods, and the goddess of fire. After she mothered the first gods with Wanous, she grew lonely, and began creating sculptures of figures similar in appearance to the gods. Her daughter, Aea, felt sorry for her mother, and breathed life into the sculptures. Overwhelmed with joy at the humans coming to life, Taessa gave them fire to keep them warm at night, and to cook their food, ensuring that the humans were set apart from beasts. Wanous also found joy in the creation of humans, and became their king. Priests and priestesses of Taessa use fire for the purpose of divination. Whether or not this works is unknown; when a prediction is proven false, the skill of the practitioner is usually blamed, rather than the credibility of the magic itself. Her pendant is a burning fire.

The Dragon

Though not technically a god of any sort, The Dragon is somewhat revered by the Scaveni. One of the four initial creations, The Dragon was made to keep the power of Wanous in check. In the meanwhile, were it not for Wanous, The Dragon would destroy the world tree. Because of this, The Dragon is often seen as a metaphor for the Scaven; making sure the King is never too powerful, while the king maintains order in the land. Many members of the Scaven wear dragon pendants.

Military

Once upon a time, the military of the Scaveni was well organized and disciplined. Now, things have changed. It used to be that the nobility would raise an elite warrior class, while the Scaven would raise up a levy to support these warriors. Now, in the hordes, the Scaveni pretty much just fight from battle to battle. The majority of men fight, and the Scaveni military has become extremely adaptable, changing weapons that each individual men fight with battle to battle, depending on the situation. Of course, certain men have specialties, such as archery or horsemanship, but largely, if you're fighting with a pike one day, you might be fighting with a sword or axe the next. Armor wise, the wealthier, more noble warriors wear a heavy scale armor, while the lighter, non-noble troops will wear light mail or leather. Additionally, the various priests of the gods may or may not take part in battle, of course using their magical skills to suit the needs of the army. The Scaveni also have a decent knowledge of military engineering, and even more now with the companionship of the Dwarves, and will build siege engines and equipment to fit what would work best for the battle. As a result of the Einherjar, Scaveni military tactics have started to focus more on guerrilla fighting and armor piercing, and the most elite men in the Scaveni military are the Scouts, led by Drago Windwalker, though often, the scouts are used to simply avoid battle altogether. Another elite group are the Shieldmaidens, a group of around 300 female warriors who are led by Eosia, the King's daughter. In addition to being skilled warriors, these women also are skilled in the arts, as well as in domestic devotions. Additionally, due to their status as a horde, while Scaveni warriors may be a little weary of battle, they are also extremely battle-hardened and experienced in war. As for the dwarves, most dwarves, though previously proud warriors, prefer to stay out of combat in order to keep their numbers afloat, and instead, to fulfill their expected military capacity, create and manage siege equipment and artillery.

Scaveni Scout

Dwarven Ballistae

Shieldmaiden

As far as organization goes, while military procedures were once very well organized, now there's sort of military despotism in the hordes-each horde has a commander who commands the entire horde's military, and all the hordes are commanded by the king. There are four Scaveni hordes, each numbering in a range from the tens to the hundreds of thousands.

The 'capital' horde is lead by King Vorin II. This horde is extremely well guarded, and mostly made up of heavier, defensive troops, and most of the treasures and relics taken with them from their homeland is in this horde. Most of the nobility follows this horde, and their tents are much larger and well insulated.

The largest horde population wise that contains the most civilians is led by the High Judge, Rudik Greentree. This horde has a large number of peasant troops, and is usually kept out of fighting, and instead fortifies near the other hordes during major battles, allowing a place for the main armies to retreat to, and to send their dead and wounded. This horde also has an extremely efficient group of scouts, which allows for it to avoid attacks on Scaveni civilians.

The third horde is commanded by Vorin's brother, Sudd Jorgenson. This is almost exclusively a military horde, with only some healers and other camp followers to account for a civilian population. Sudd largely has vengeance on his mind, the population of the hold he once led, as well as his family, having been massacred. It is also rumored that he is a worshiper of Vascun, and most of the followers of Vascun, including the werewolves, follow his horde.

The fourth and final horde is another military horde, commanded by Wunal Luddsman. Wunal is far less aggressive than Sudd, and rather is a romantic, holding an opinion that most of the other Scaveni don't share; that this is not the end-times. Luddsman is a noble, though not a royal, and is one of the few nobles to also have family connections with members of the Scaven. Most of the dwarves also follow this horde, which is why the fighters in this horde tend to be extremely well equipped, and well fed from the dwarves' extensive knowledge on pig farming. Another portion of this horde's civilian population is made up of writers, poets, and bards, chronicling the current times.

Heroes

Drago Windwalker: Main hero. Drago was in his late teens when the Einherjar invaded, and was the youngest man ever to be elected to the regional Scaven. His family were farmers and military veterans, though Drago preferred to spend his time out in the forest, and became extremely adept at traversing the land, and from a young age was also an adept warrior. His family lived at the eastern edge of the kingdom, and when the Einherjar invaded, his family's land was one of the first to be attacked. He had recently been married, and his wife was pregnant, so rather than stay and fight, he and his family headed west to find refuge in the capital, along the way becoming more and more skilled as a warrior. Eventually the capital wasn't good enough, and the whole of the kingdom took off to the northwest. Now, Drago is one of the most skilled warriors in the Scaveni military, being given the name 'Windwalker' for his swiftness, agility, and stealth. He follows the High Judge's horde, and commands that horde's scouts. His weapon of choice is a hand axe, which he carries with him wherever he goes, and forsakes armor for better speed. He is also a skilled archer, though rarely fights with bows, only using them when hunting or in a guerilla assault. He wears a dragon pendant, partially for his namesake, and partially because he longs for the days when the true power of the Scaven is restored. Due to his skill, as well as the daring guerilla assaults and rescue missions he's performed with his scouts, he's become extremely popular with the Scaveni populous. He also bears the knot of the Scaven, like all members of the Scaven.

Lessik: Lessik is the high priest of Vascun, and follows Sudd's horde. He has little to no moral fiber, but is still for some reason loyal to the Scaveni. Like all priests of Vascun, he is a werewolf, and a powerful one at that. Like all priests of Vascun, he also shaves his head, sharpens his teeth, and puts black face paint around his eyes. He's all around a really scary guy, and wears a wolf head pendant.

Eosia Jorgenson: Eosia is the only daughter of King Vorin, who also has four brothers. Despite reluctance on part of her father, when the Einherjar invaded, she insisted that she fight the enemy when she grew old enough, being around ten years old at the time. To help insure his daughter's safety, he paid for the best warriors in the country to teach her how to fight, and when she turned seventeen, she took to the battlefield, and is now one of the most skilled warriors of all the Scaveni. She is well liked among the populous for her fair and compassionate attitude, while her brothers are seen as corrupt and spoiled. Though she isn't the oldest of the children, many in the hordes wish to see her become the Queen. She travels in her father's horde, and fights with a full set of armor, a sword, and a shield, and leads a group of female fighters known as the Shieldmaidens, much to the dismay of the more traditional nobility. Like most of the royal family, she wears an Axe pendant.

Reimlyk the Younger: When Lodd was tamed by Wanous, he had been fighting with a simple wooden club his whole life. As a gift, the gods made him a mighty and powerful sword. Lodd accepted the gift happily, and went to practice with it, but found that he wasn't used to the weight and balance of it. The rest of the gods gathered around to try and teach Lodd how to use the sword, but he couldn't learn, and in frustration, he threw the sword with such a force that it fell from the realm of the gods to the realm of man, becoming stuck in a large tree stump. The locals of the area, savage, simple-minded gnomes, surrounded the sword. Realizing how powerful it was, the gods put a spell on it, so that only one as dutiful and pure of heart as Lodd could remove it from the stump. While the gnomes were unable to remove it, they looked at the runes on it, studied the craftsmanship and became civilized, turning from gnomes into dwarves. The dwarves, now realizing their savagery, built houses around the stump, and from there built a village, which became a town, which became a city, the dwarf city of Kufnar. When the Einherjar invaded, they besieged Kufnar, which by then had been filled by Dwarven refugees from around the country. They knew they couldn't hold out, and managed to make an escape route for a few thousand to carry on the Dwarves as a species, and they knew that the Sword of Lodd had to go with them, so they gathered every dwarven warrior in the city to try and pull out the sword, but nobody could. Then they gathered the blacksmiths, and none of them could either. Then they tried every single dwarf in the city, but still none of them could pull out the sword. All but one; the son of a pig farmer named Reimlyk, also named Reimlyk. He promised to protect his father's pigs, and when one of them ran off, he went after it, following it far outside the city until he caught it. When he came back to the city, he was ushered to the sword, and, despite having never fought in a war before, miraculously pulled the sword out of the stump, which, while in Lodd's hand was a regular sword, in his was a massive greatsword. While he had no real muscle, he found the sword to be weightless, and he and a few thousand other dwarves escaped through the mines. He was also given a suit of armor made specifically for the bearer of the sword. Now, travelling in Wunal's horde, the hopes of the dwarves are put into him, and by now he's grown skilled as a fighter, and has the looks of one too. The sword itself is indestructible, weightless to Reimlyk, and can easily cleave through the most armored of enemies. He wears a horn pendant, being the bearer of the Sword of Lodd.

History

The Scaveni lived in their lands for at least a millennia. About twenty years ago, a strange and horrific army, the Einherjar, invaded their lands, along with the lands of their close northern allies, the Veleni. It seemed that the allies would be able to repel the Einherjar, when the Veleni king was killed by Einherjar agents, and his adolescent son, Njorald, put into power. With the Einherjar at the East and Velen invading from the north, the Scaveni were forced to flee westward, and for years have been travelling. Within those years, their reputation as a wise and learned people began to degrade, and a new reputation of hardened warriors started to take over. Now they are finding themselves in a new continent, Askor, in search of a new home.

Relations

Einherjar and Velen: Mortal enemies. Einherjar itself is a Scaveni word meaning 'dark blooded'. The Prince of Velen was once betrothed to Eosia, but those days are long gone.
Mycae: Mycae was the first nation the Scaveni encountered in Askor. Despite this, the Mycae is somewhat neutral to the Scaveni, their general allowing the hordes to travel through unharmed in enchange for information on the Einherjar.
Cormyral: Relations with Cormyral are a bit more complicated. Though the Prince of Cormyral wished to refuse entry to the Scaveni, Duchess Lynette, as well as some other Cormyrillian nobles, are allowing for the Scaveni to pass through, as well as feeding them.

Characters

King Vorin II is the current King of the Scaveni, and was king when the Einherjar invaded. While some see his current regime as corrupt and dictatorial, his supporters say it is necessary for their people's survival, and that Vorin will give back the power to the Scaven when a new homeland is found. The only member of the Scaven with any real power currently is Rudik Greentree, the High Judge, who leads one of the hordes. Rudik is a good man, if not a little weak. The rest of the scaven resides in his horde, where they have nominally more power. Most people hate Vorin's sons, who have strangely taken advantage of the new situation. Vorin is often seen as emotionless, his queen being brutally killed by the Einherjar, and since then has only really cared about his role as King. His brother, Sudd, leads another horde and may be a sociopath. Wunal was Vorin's friend from childhood, and is probably the most universally liked of the leaders of the hordes. There is also Drago's wife, Vila, who worries for her husband safety, despite her pride in him, and his son, Bren, a skilled archer who wishes to start fighting despite his father's hesitation.

Legend of the Silver Legion (A Fantasy RP)

The Scaveni Kingdom

The Scaveni Kingdom

Government

There are two parts to the Scaveni government, at least traditionally in the old lands. One part is the royals and nobility; they own the lands, set the laws of the lands, and are in charge of the military. But governance on a day to day basis largely lies in the hands of the Scaven, the namesake of the kingdom. The Scaven are a democratically elected force layered from the smallest family unit. Every family in the Kingdom chooses one representative to represent them in the local village's branch of the Scaven. The village then selects a representative to elect them in the region, region to province, province to Kingdom, led by the High Judge, who also acted as a direct link to the king. At least, that's how it was before the Invasion. Now, the nobles have taken on a much larger role in governance, and the power of the Scaven has been largely reduced, though the power of the High Judge is largely retained, mostly in a capability as an advisor. The current king is Vorin II, and the High Judge is Rudik Greentree. All members of the Scaven have a special knot in their hair to signify their rank

Scaven Knot

Geography

Their kingdom was once made of forests and fertile plains. Now, they are landless, and are at the southeastern border of Mycae.

Culture

Though they are now seen in Askor as a warrior people, historically, the Scaveni were wise and cultured, far from the barbarian stereotype they now embody. They are largely one human ethnicity, again known as Scaveni, usually with fairer skin and brown hair, however, around three percent of their population is now Dwarven. Previously, the Dwarves lived in independent settlements within the Kingdom, but during the invasion, the vast majority of the Dwarves died in battle, refusing to uproot themselves from their home and their lands like the Humans. A few thousand of the dwarves lived on, and now live among the Scaveni in the camps, largely working as blacksmiths and pig farmers. Religion is also very important to the Scaveni, and all Scaveni schools of magic are based on what god that magic derives from. Below are some of the more important gods of the Scaveni.

Vascun

Vascun is the wolf god. What is the god of is a somewhat foreign concept known as Visi, which has no direct translation, but is somewhere between 'power', 'survival', and 'darkness'. Visi is basically the quantity to which someone has a capability of surviving, as well as exerting their power on others. Followers of Vascun believe that to raise one's Visi, they must forsake morality, and instead view the world through a primal and survivalistic view of it. Priests of Vascun have the ability to transform into wolves, as well as the more devoted followers of Vascun. In the days of the Settled Kingdom, worship of Vascun was prohibited, but since the uprooting, the king declared Vascun worship to be legal, and werewolves now fight alongside the other Scaveni. Worship of Vascun often involves sacrifice of animals. While Vascun worship is getting increasingly more popular, enmity towards Vascun worshippers is also high, due to a chunk of them joining the Einherjar. His pendant is a wolf head.

Aea

Aea is the goddess of the family, of farming, and of fertility. She is easily one of the most popular goddesses in the Scaveni pantheon, with a huge number of people, especially women, wearing her pendants. Priestesses of Aea have to be female, and are expert healers and physicians. It's largely because of the priestesses of Aea that Scaveni casualties as a result of the Einherjar are much lower than they could be. The Scaveni believe that Aea breathed life into humanity, and it's because of this that her Priestesses are tasked to sustain it. The Temple of Aea once contained large quantities of scrolls about medicine and healing, and while the Temple was lost, its collection was brought with the Kingdom. Her pendant is a figurine of her.

Lodd

Lodd is the Scaveni god of war, duty, and the forest. He was once a powerful beastman in the forest that surrounded the Kingdom of the Gods. When hunters and loggers reported being attacked by a beastman, the King of the Gods sent a warband to capture him, but he instead captured them and had them guarded by a pack of wolves. The king of the Gods then sent a second warband, which was again captured and guarded by a pack of wild boars. A third warband was sent, which was captured and guarded by a group of panthers. The king of the gods then went into the forest himself and wrestled Lodd into submission. Lodd, amazed to find a being more powerful than himself, swore his undying loyalty to the King of the Gods, who in turn made Lodd a god. The animals also swore loyalty to the King of the Gods, and the wolves were turned into dogs, the panthers into cats, and the boars into pigs. The King asked Lodd why he attacked the men, and Lodd answered that he saw the humans cutting down trees, and were afraid they would cut down what he was guarding, the World Tree. Lodd led the King to the World Tree, and the king climbed it, and found a greater realm higher up the tree. He and the rest of the gods then ascended to rule the whole of the universe, with the humans left to govern our realm. This event is known as the 'Taming of Lodd'. This is also believed to be the origin of Vascun, who, when Lodd was tamed, escaped from him, the embodiment of Lodd's wild spirit.

The magic used by followers of Lodd tends to be focused on the manipulation of nature, such as elemental magic, animal control, and the control of plant growth. Lodd's pendant is a horn.

Wanous

Wanous is the Scaveni King of the Gods, as well as the god of lighting. It is believed that our realm was once inhabited by a dying race, who, to prevent the realm from being taken over by the Trolls, created four things; Wanous, the perfect warrior and leader, Fasdan, his axe, with which he could control the storms, Taessa, the queen goddess, and the Goddess of fire and wisdom, with whom he could create new life, and the Dragon, to keep the power of Wanous in check. After creating these four creations, the Ancient Race disappeared, but Wanous killed the Trolls with Fasdan. He tried to expand from the realm, but found himself battling with the Dragon, and grew weary of fighting, neither winning nor losing, and withdrew back to the realm, where he fell in love with Taessa, and the two of them birthed Aea and the first generation of gods. Priests of Wanous channel the power of lightning for their form of magic, but also study the stars. His pendant is his axe, Fasdan.

Taessa

Taessa is the queen of the gods, and the goddess of fire. After she mothered the first gods with Wanous, she grew lonely, and began creating sculptures of figures similar in appearance to the gods. Her daughter, Aea, felt sorry for her mother, and breathed life into the sculptures. Overwhelmed with joy at the humans coming to life, Taessa gave them fire to keep them warm at night, and to cook their food, ensuring that the humans were set apart from beasts. Wanous also found joy in the creation of humans, and became their king. Priests and priestesses of Taessa use fire for the purpose of divination. Whether or not this works is unknown; when a prediction is proven false, the skill of the practitioner is usually blamed, rather than the credibility of the magic itself. Her pendant is a burning fire.

The Dragon

Though not technically a god of any sort, The Dragon is somewhat revered by the Scaveni. One of the four initial creations, The Dragon was made to keep the power of Wanous in check. In the meanwhile, were it not for Wanous, The Dragon would destroy the world tree. Because of this, The Dragon is often seen as a metaphor for the Scaven; making sure the King is never too powerful, while the king maintains order in the land. Many members of the Scaven wear dragon pendants.

Military

Scaveni Military

Once upon a time, the military of the Scaveni was well organized and disciplined. Now, things have change. It used to be that the nobility would raise an elite warrior class, while the Scaven would raise up a levy to support these warriors. Now, in the hordes, the Scaveni pretty much just fight from battle to battle. The majority of men fight, and the Scaveni military has become extremely adaptable, changing weapons that each individual men fight with battle to battle, depending on the situation. Of course, certain men have specialties, such as archery or horsemanship, but largely, if you're fighting with a pike one day, you might be fighting with a sword or axe the next. Armor wise, the wealthier, more noble warriors wear a heavy scale armor, while the lighter, non-noble troops will wear light mail or leather. Additionally, the various priests of the gods may or may not take part in battle, of course using their magical skills to suit the needs of the army. The Scaveni also have a decent knowledge of military engineering, and even more now with the companionship of the Dwarves, and will build siege engines and equipment to fit what would work best for the battle. Additionally, due to their status as a horde, while Scaveni warriors may be a little weary of battle, they are also extremely battle-hardened and experienced in war.

As far as organization goes, while military procedures were once very well organized, now there's sort of military despotism in the hordes-each horde has a commander who commands the entire horde's military, and all the hordes are commanded by the king. There are four Scaveni hordes, each numbering in a range from the tens to the hundreds of thousands.

The 'capital' horde is lead by King Vorin II. This horde is extremely well guarded, and mostly made up of heavier, defensive troops, and most of the treasures and relics taken with them from their homeland is in this horde. Most of the nobility follows this horde, and their tents are much larger and well insulated.

The largest horde population wise that contains the most civilians is led by the High Judge, Rudik Greentree. This horde has a large number of peasant troops, and is usually kept out of fighting, and instead fortifies near the other hordes during major battles, allowing a place for the main armies to retreat to, and to send their dead and wounded. This horde also has an extremely efficient group of scouts, which allows for it to avoid attacks on Scaveni civilians.

The third horde is commanded by Vorin's brother, Sudd Jorgenson. This is almost exclusively a military horde, with only some healers and other camp followers to account for a civilian population. Sudd largely has vengeance on his mind, the population of the hold he once led, as well as his family, having been massacred. It is also rumored that he is a worshiper of Vascun, and most of the followers of Vascun, including the werewolves, follow his horde.

The fourth and final horde is another military horde, commanded by Wunal Luddsman. Wunal is far less aggressive than Sudd, and rather is a romantic, holding an opinion that most of the other Scaveni don't share; that this is not the end-times. Luddsman is a noble, though not a royal, and is one of the few nobles to also have family connections with members of the Scaven. Most of the dwarves also follow this horde, which is why the fighters in this horde tend to be extremely well equipped, and well fed from the dwarves' extensive knowledge on pig farming. Another portion of this horde's civilian population is made up of writers, poets, and bards, chronicling the current times.

Heroes

Drago Windwalker: Main hero. Drago was in his late teens when the Einherjar invaded, and was the youngest man ever to be elected to the regional Scaven. His family were farmers and military veterans, though Drago preferred to spend his time out in the forest, and became extremely adept at traversing the land, and from a young age was also an adept warrior. His family lived at the eastern edge of the kingdom, and when the Einherjar invaded, his family's land was one of the first to be attacked. He had recently been married, and his wife was pregnant, so rather than stay and fight, he and his family headed west to find refuge in the capital, along the way becoming more and more skilled as a warrior. Eventually the capital wasn't good enough, and the whole of the kingdom took off to the northwest. Now, Drago is one of the most skilled warriors in the Scaveni military, being given the name 'Windwalker' for his swiftness, agility, and stealth. He follows the High Judge's horde, and commands that horde's scouts. His weapon of choice is a hand axe, which he carries with him wherever he goes, and forsakes armor for better speed. He is also a skilled archer, though rarely fights with bows, only using them when hunting or in a guerilla assault. He wears a dragon pendant, partially for his namesake, and partially because he longs for the days when the true power of the Scaven is restored. Due to his skill, as well as the daring guerilla assaults and rescue missions he's performed with his scouts, he's become extremely popular with the Scaveni populous. He also bears the knot of the Scaven, like all members of the Scaven.

Lessik: Lessik is the high priest of Vascun, and follows Sudd's horde. He has little to no moral fiber, but is still for some reason loyal to the Scaveni. Like all priests of Vascun, he is a werewolf, and a powerful one at that. Like all priests of Vascun, he also shaves his head, sharpens his teeth, and puts black face paint around his eyes. He's all around a really scary guy, and wears a wolf head pendant.

Eosia Jorgenson: Eosia is the only daughter of King Vorin, who also has four brothers. Despite reluctance on part of her father, when the Einherjar invaded, she insisted that she fight the enemy when she grew old enough, being around ten years old at the time. To help insure his daughter's safety, he paid for the best warriors in the country to teach her how to fight, and when she turned seventeen, she took to the battlefield, and is now one of the most skilled warriors of all the Scaveni. She is well liked among the populous for her fair and compassionate attitude, while her brothers are seen as corrupt and spoiled. Though she isn't the oldest of the children, many in the hordes wish to see her become the Queen. She travels in her father's horde, and fights with a full set of armor, a sword, and a shield, and leads a group of female fighters known as the Shieldmaidens, much to the dismay of the more traditional nobility. She also is constantly followed by two large war dogs named Hafni and Sam; when the Scaveni first set out from their land, she found two puppies on the side of the road. Her father told her to leave them, but she insisted that she save them. As they grew older, they were found to both be extremely powerful, and it's often thought that the wardogs are servants of the gods. Like most of the royal family, she wears an Axe pendant.

Reimlyk the Younger: When Lodd was tamed by Wanous, he had been fighting with a simple wooden club his whole life. As a gift, the gods made him a mighty and powerful sword. Lodd accepted the gift happily, and went to practice with it, but found that he wasn't used to the weight and balance of it. The rest of the gods gathered around to try and teach Lodd how to use the sword, but he couldn't learn, and in frustration, he threw the sword with such a force that it fell from the realm of the gods to the realm of man, becoming stuck in a large tree stump. The locals of the area, savage, simple-minded gnomes, surrounded the sword. Realizing how powerful it was, the gods put a spell on it, so that only one as dutiful and pure of heart as Lodd could remove it from the stump. While the gnomes were unable to remove it, they looked at the runes on it, studied the craftsmanship and became civilized, turning from gnomes into dwarves. The dwarves, now realizing their savagery, built houses around the stump, and from there built a village, which became a town, which became a city, the dwarf city of Kufnar. When the Einherjar invaded, they besieged Kufnar, which by then had been filled by Dwarven refugees from around the country. They knew they couldn't hold out, and managed to make an escape route for a few thousand to carry on the Dwarves as a species, and they knew that the Sword of Lodd had to go with them, so they gathered every dwarven warrior in the city to try and pull out the sword, but nobody could. Then they gathered the blacksmiths, and none of them could either. Then they tried every single dwarf in the city, but still none of them could pull out the sword. All but one; the son of a pig farmer named Reimlyk, also named Reimlyk. He promised to protect his father's pigs, and when one of them ran off, he went after it, following it far outside the city until he caught it. When he came back to the city, he was ushered to the sword, and, despite having never fought in a war before, miraculously pulled the sword out of the stump, which, while in Lodd's hand was a regular sword, in his was a massive greatsword. While he had no real muscle, he found the sword to be weightless, and he and a few thousand other dwarves escaped through the mines. He was also given a suit of armor made specifically for the bearer of the sword. Now, travelling in Wunal's horde, the hopes of the dwarves are put into him, and by now he's grown skilled as a fighter, and has the looks of one too. The sword itself is indestructible, weightless to Reimlyk, and can easily cleave through the most armored of enemies. He wears a horn pendant, being the bearer of the Sword of Lodd.

History

The Scaveni lived in their lands for at least a millennia. About twenty years ago, a strange and horrific army, the Einherjar, invaded their lands, and the Scaveni were sent to the northwest. Within those years, their reputation as a wise and learned people began to degrade, and a new reputation of hardened warriors started to take over. Now they are finding themselves in a new continent, Askor, in search of a new home.

Relations

The only established relations in Askor at the moment are the Einherjar, which, of course, are the Scaveni's mortal enemies, though, now pouring into Mycaean lands, Mycae is unlikely to be happy about the arrival of the Scaveni hordes.

Characters

King Vorin II is the current King of the Scaveni, and was king when the Einherjar invaded. While some see his current regime as corrupt and dictatorial, his supporters say it is necessary for their people's survival, and that Vorin will give back the power to the Scaven when a new homeland is found. The only member of the Scaven with any real power currently is Rudik Greentree, the High Judge, who leads one of the hordes. Rudik is a good man, if not a little weak. The rest of the scaven resides in his horde, where they have nominally more power. Most people hate Vorin's sons, who have strangely taken advantage of the new situation. Vorin is often seen as emotionless, his queen being brutally killed by the Einherjar, and since then has only really cared about his role as King. His brother, Sudd, leads another horde and may be a sociopath. Wunal was Vorin's friend from childhood, and is probably the most universally liked of the leaders of the hordes. There is also Drago's wife, Vila, who worries for her husband safety, despite her pride in him.

Legend of the Silver Legion (A Fantasy RP)

Yeah link?

Legend of the Silver Legion (A Fantasy RP)

@Darkspleen So what should I do? Were my lands destroyed? Am I pushing into Mycae or would I be somewhere else on the map? Culturally, politically and militarily I have mine figured out, I just need to know where I am geographically and why we left our homeland. By the way, if I am pushing into Mycae, it would have made sense if Orichalum's guys destroyed my kingdom.