Nariata — Roleplayer Guild

"In defense of the weak, we must strike at the strong.  In defense of the faithful, we must purge the heretics.  In remembrance of life, we must cherish death." 
~Roffella on her march to the Maw

Gyrid and her forces were one of the first to arrive at the western entrance of the Maw a few hours before noon.  Almost immediately they set about forming their camp, pitching their tents and evening erecting a temporary and bare shrine to the Goddess Roffella in the middle of their tent village.  The shrine was pathetic by Gyrids standards, with all but one of the holy books missing from the altar and only a small scattering of weapons and shields surrounding the small man sized statue of the goddess; but the Devotees are faithful, and she allowed their little construction project none the less.  Eventually, Torr sounded the call for all the generals to mount up and meet the enemy in the pre-battle meeting; something Gyrid never had the luxury of having in her conquests.  In the past when she rode to war, the buildup had always had a different feeling to them.  By the time she had started her conquests, her name was already a well-known blight on the non-believers mind.  The mention of her name would harken back stories of cities lit a fire, whole armies torn asunder, and the Followers swallowing up whole city states in one fell.  She rode out with Torr and the rest of the Generals alongside her second-in-command Ardur Thanesbane.  Ardur was a warrior as old as herself, who had a similar up bringing through the followers of Roffella.  While he hasn't reached the rank of Priest yet, the birds have been singing him his praises for his works alongside Gyrid. 

The duo rested in a wing position to the left of Torr and his guard.  Gyrid listened in on the pre-battle meeting and a fury began to boil deep within her, a fiery rage that she fought hard to contain.  These pigs come as invaders, demanding that they lay down their arms only to pick the swords back up only to sheath them!  The audacity of forcing someone to surrender in such a manner felt like the most cruel joke to Gyrid.   

"What is wrong Gyrid," Ardur whispered as he watched the brows of Gyrid pulled downward together as her eyes started out at the first legionnaire to speak.    

"Besides him being a heathen?" 

"Yes, besides that." 

Gyrid turned her head to face Ardurs.  "I don't like him," she paused, "I don't like the way he talks, I don't like the way he looks, I would probably also not like the way he fucks," she paused as she listened in to the conversation for a second, "he expects to emerge from the Maw victorious, without scars and without a fight," Gyrid paused as she turned her head back to face the man named Eastern man named Lucius, "I think I will find a way to make him remember this battle, remember all of us, and not as the first victory of a long campaign, but the beginning of the lands he will come to fear; filled to the brim with nightmarish warriors thirsty for blood, demanding their head as tribute to Roffella."  

As she finished whispering, Gyrid noticed the two parties had just finished and had begun to depart the pre-battle meeting and began to make their way back towards their respective camps, when the soft twangs of crossbow strings rang out.  Immediately feeling as if they had been set up, Gyrid quickly began to raise her shield up but stopped after catching glimpse of the bolts being disintegrating in the air not far from the back of one of the lieutenants.   

"They have the right ideas," Gyrid said of both the Goblin creatures and the mage. 

Later at the roundtable

 Gyrid listened as Torr began to talk about the enemy forces.  When the Goblin creature offered his services as commander on the first day, Gyrid liked the idea.  His actions after the pre-battle meeting lacked honor for sure, but Gyrid thought to herself is there any honor in war anyway?  The act, if not intercepted by the mage, would have sent a clear and concise message to the enemy that they were about to face a new kind of threat that the east could not possibly have prepared them for.  From the machines of death that the Duke brought and the magic wielding coven acting as hard hitting artillery, to the devout forces of her own army and the savage and unpredictable Southern Goblin creatures and their angry steeds.

"You would lead us, Orc?  And what would you have us do? Shall we throw ourselves into Alaric's troops, so that you and your fellows have more meat for the roasting? I suppose we'd make a fine repast, would we not? And when you're done, and your bellies are full, you'll run back to your caves and your hiding places, and let the rest of us perish upon the tips of the Imperial lances."

This took Gyrid by surprise.  While the tension in the air between all these former enemies was high, there was a general understanding that this was not for the survival of one nation as a whole, but a way for the west to stand together for the first time in history as one and face the might of the east.  She carefully listened to the other commanders who spoke next and was relieved when they also spoke of the unity that the west needed to show in the coming hours.  

 Eventually, there landed an uneasy silence after the Prince had finished his speech.  Gyrid looked around the room before she too stood up to offer her voice in the discussion. 

"You are all right, and you are all wrong," Gyrid started, "we all have enemies around this table but our past must be forgotten for our present engagement in the Maw to have a chance.  This gives the west a possible future.  I don't care if you are imperialistic scum," her eyes rested on Alexander, "unholy Goblin creature from the South," her eyes darted to Pizurk before they rested on the table beneath her.  "You are all heathens to me, and in another life I would have loved nothing more than to see your heads resting on top of pikes as a warning to the rest of the world to not test the resolve of Roffella, and I'm also sure each and every one of you would have loved the chance to break the Priestess of Roffella who burned the North West in battle," she paused as she looked around the room, "That is not our fate; Roffella has decided she wants something higher from us that we can not obtain alone." She paused as her head turned towards the Duke and locked her eyes with his.  "You are right, young Duke.  We will not win this battle on our hearts, but you are also wrong;  we will not win this war with our minds alone, but rather their hearts," pausing as she shoved her hand to the east, " and their minds must be broken in ways they could have never imagined or ever repaired again."  Pausing as she moved back into her seat, Gyrid once again looked around the room. 

 "I offer my service as commander as well if you don’t think the Goblin of the south is fit for it but the savage nature of his army cannot be forgotten."  She again paused as she let the room soak in her words.  "If I were to lead the first day I would win this battle, and with some time, offer the invaders from the East a sight tomorrow that would make them regret ever venturing into the Maw."
Nariata Member

The Silent

Status

Bio

Most Recent Posts
