Sigma

These Dark Stars - IC is open -

@Ozerath Ozzzzzoooooo :P

Looking forward to this!

Legend of the Silver Legion Redux (Open)

Town of Karkan, Ardir Territory
"Fascinating..." A Clergymen of the Serene Church spoke, examining the golden husk along with several others. The Town Barracks had temporarily been closed off, the Garrison relocated in other parts of the town for the time being as the Church begun its investigation regarding the Angel of Ardir. The Garrison Commander stood in the open doorway, watching the clergymen do their work.

"After you brought the stranger over?" One of them asked the Commander, looking to him, seeing him in a sort of daze, starring at the Husk, although he wouldn't blame him, the object was memorizing in its...unearthliness, so unnatural, yet, here it stands. "Commander?" The man spoke, slowly losing patience. The Commander shook his head, snapping back to reality.

"Uhh...yes." The Commander mumbled, still shaken by the experience. "He continued on rambling on and on, about Demons, being sent by the God of all, and such."

The clergymen nodded. "Mhm, yes." He said. "What else can you tell us?"

The Commander swallowed a lump, seeming hesitant, although calling in members of the Church was his idea in the first place, he still felt doubt that what he would have to say would be less then believed. "Come on, out with it!" Another spoke, his patience wearing thin.

"....We placed the Angel in one of the bunk rooms." The Commander said. "Soon after..we heard such...terrible screams..." The commander begun to sweat, the as he relived this strange and alien scene. "One of my men was first to force his way in, he told us he saw something leave the room, it was like a ethereal mist, and just left the husk you see now...."

"Interesting..." The lead Clergymen spoke. "Any more you wish to share with us?"

"...Before we forced our way in, in the mess of screams and screech we all heard one word clearly..."Liar", it's all that we understood."

"Hmmm... thank you for your cooperation Commander, I know this must've been a terrible experience."

"..What do you plan to do with the Husk?" The Commander asked, curious of the Churches intentions.

"We will gladly take this thing, off your hands, Commander." The leader said. "We'll be taking it to Ardirum, the Archbishop will want to see this for himself, and perhaps, further study."

"Good.." The Commander said. "I want this that as far away from me and my town as soon as possible."

These Dark Stars - IC is open -

@Polybius Damn! I can't resist! Consider me interested. Would it be possible for me to play as one of mentioned alien hordes?

Legend of the Silver Legion Redux (Open)

Brakor-Mudir Borderlands
"Hurry brother!" A young, injured Drimor cried out, another Drimor not too far behind as they both run through dense forest, fleeing their pursers, the victorious war cries of Brakor warriors growing louder by the moment. The younger Drimor sibling pausing for a moment, catching her breath as her elder brother caught up, breathing with labored breaths, both scanning their surroundings in a panic. "Over there!" The sister shouted, pointing to a random direction, and so they both ran, and kept on until the war cries grew more and more faint. Both siblings slowed down, the threat finally passing. "We made it..." the brother said, once again with labored breath, both earning themselves a break as they laid against a tree.

"The Chieftain was a fool.." The sister muttered, looking to her brother who gave her a weak nod of agreement, Clan Mudir was indeed in no shape to confront the much larger Brakor, but the new chieftain had delusions of grandeur, delusions that costed the lives of three hundred warriors. "Fia.." The brother spoke of his sister's name.

"What is it, Thad?"

"When we get back...I'm going to kill that whoreson.."

"...I'll help you." This was quite a spontaneous decision, but not unheard of in Tarkiman culture. After many hours, the sun begun to rise, morning had come, both siblings had regained their strength, and were ready to move on. Fia was first up, stretching her arms outs. "First, we need to find a way ou-" she stopped midway through her sentence, as she took notice of something...odd. "What's wrong?" Thad asked, looking to the direction she was staring into, and was unnerved, before them was a scattered horde of life-sized statues, all seemingly sculpted overnight. "What is this.." Thad muttered.

"These weren't here before." Fia added, her tone was that of uncertainty and fear. She stepped further close to the statues, examining them and taking notice of the finer details of each, coming across Grogar, Human and even Drimor statues, and while they are of fine craftsmanship...the air about them is still unsettling, the two pressed on, exploring this "garden" of statues. Eventually, the siblings would come upon two particularly odd statues, they're features were Drimor, but...they're faces were completely blank. Fia, growing more curious with this discovery, stepped closer. "Fia, be careful." Thad said. "Something's not right...It ll feels so wrong."

Without thinking, Fia touched the smooth, stony surface of the statue, much to her horror as her hand begun to emit a red hue, instantly pulling her hand away, as the once blank face begun to form boar-like features of the Drimor, specifically Fia's features. She fell on her back, shuffling away from the statue in terror. "Oh Gods!" She screamed. Thad rushed over, lifting her up as they both stared at the statue. "This forest is cursed...run!" They both fled, fleeing as far away from these statues as possible, but in the end, it may prove a fruitless endeavor.

Legend of the Silver Legion Redux (Open)

Collab between Sigma and Ekreture

Svawad Castle, Talnoc

"Too slow, again!" An formorian of similar stature to Kormor barked at a exhausted Kormor, pools of sweat forming under him, barely holding onto his blade. Despite his tattered state, Kormor complied with his superior and charged for the tenth time, the two clashing blades, using various swordfighting techniques against one another, although his instructor of the day, a native by the name of Carssim was always one step ahead of him, unsurprising given he's among the more Veteran members of the Black Band, a mere speck compared to Gultar, but posed a daunting challenge for the many now ex-initiates, Kormor and Seadne however, were a stubborn and persistent duo.

Kormor slashed again and again, Carssim blocking and countering every move, much to his frustration, Kormor made one last strike, thrusting himself towards Carssim, within mere moments, barely dodged his attack, actually managing to leave a small cut on his arm. Carssim examined the flesh wound, and gave a wide smirk. "Hah! You finally landed a hit on me Half-Breed, impressive!" Kormor could barely manage to get a word out, breathing in and out in rapid succession. "No need to say a word, you earned a good rest." Kormor simply nodded to Carssim and headed for his quarters.

After a long days worth of training and chores, Kormor came busting through the door, collapsing onto his bed, "Finally a good nights rest...." He thought to himself, his eyes growing heavy as he fell into a deep slumber.

An hour or two later, Kormor was awoken loudly by a stern, "WAKE UP HALF-BREED!" Above him were Carssim, a human female friend of his, Rey, and the Grogar instructor in charge of his labor, Sergeant Daigahn, who carried a bright torch which was currently being waved in Kormor's face. Daigahn bent low to look at Kormor closely. "The hell you think you've done, recruit?"

Kormro snapped up, caught by surprise by his rude awakening. "What!?! What!?!" He said in a panicked pace. "What did I do, sir?!?!" Not much was said, Carssim immediately covered up Kormor's head in an ragged bag, and was forced on feet. "Rey! What's going on!?!?!" He called out to his friend in a panic.

Rey huffed, and responded by asking, "Are you proud of yourself, Kormor?" before they dragged him too his feet and led him from his quarters. As they pushed him through the hallways and down the stairs, they kept badgering him, but never truly insulting him; only talking about his...actions. Eventually, he could feel the blow of cool, night wind upon his face, and through the sinews of the sack could sense a great light in front of him, which the three officers pushed him towards, eventually forcing him to his knees and removing the bag from his head, to reveal that they were in the central courtyard.

Next to him was Seadne in the same situation as he, and surrounding them were a host of members of the Band; many carrying lit torches, all were adorned in full battle armor, and all of which were faces familiar to either Seadne or Kormor, and were currently muttering in coherently to each other while they looked on at the two men. In front of them were Gultar and Sula, who wordlessly and sternly kept their gaze affixed to the two.

"Oh Gods..." Kormor muttered to himself, the sense of fear and uncertainty overwhelming his mind, flooding it with countless, repeated questions to himself. "What did I do? Was it the cut? Did I fail some hidden test?" Whatever it was...it seemed it would be the death of him. Looks like Kormor failed his mother, his fellow street rats, and his brothers in arms from the looks of it.

Seadne spoke whispered to his friend, fear plaguing his face. "Friend, are you-"

"Silence!" shouted Gultar, and the mouths of the onlooking Band members suddenly closed. He looked around, and began pacing around the circle.

"I have made you all a promise, soldiers; that you will always find the consequences of your actions appropriate." He paused, looking around at his men before him. "These two have resided with us for some time. They have trained with us. They have labored, day in and day out. But what of their actions?" As he shifted around the circle of soldiers, his scarred, tattooed face was illuminated by torchlight, to reveal an expression which spoke of no clear emotion, only of consternation. Finally, he spoke again.

"They have shown courage in the face of danger!" After he said this, every member of the band hit their armor with a thud, coupled by shouting a short Huh. Gultar finally looked again to Kormor and Seadne, the air of the Shrine of the Seven hovering between them.

The overwhelming feeling fear seemed to dissipate, he exchanged a quick glance to Seadne, tears of joy flowing down Kormor's cheeks followed by a small grin, it seemed they weren't going to die...but whatever happens, it seems the two will make it out of this as battle brothers...hopefully.

Daigahn then stepped forward. "They have shown perseverance in the face of hardship," followed by another round of thudding and shouting. Seadne let out a long sigh, when Rey stood forward.

"They have shown friendship and comradely without hesitation," and another thud and shout was heard. Finally, Carssim stepped forward.

"They have shown skill in combat!" After this thud and shout, there was another, and another, until Gultar raised up his hand.

"If these testimonies are true, then their actions are the actions of a brother, and their consequence; the bestowal of brotherhood. Should we show them brotherhood?" In response, the host of soldiers pounded their chests and shouted repeatedly, and Gultar shouted, "Then we shall show them brotherhood! But if these testimonies are true, then their actions are the actions of a soldier, and their consequence; the bestowal of soldierhood. Should I give them soldierhood?" Yet again, they ceremoniously resounded with approval. "Then I shall give them soldierhood!" Gultar raised his hand for silence once more. "If these testimonies are true, their actions have strengthened the fabric of the Band, and I should invite them in, for Svawad Castle to be their home. Have they proven their worthiness?" Approval was heard once more, now louder than ever. "Then, brothers, soldiers, I will ask them!"

Gultar stepped in front of Seadne and looked down. "Seadne the shepherd of Ghabar; will you join the Black Band?" Seadne nearly blurted out his answer of yes before Gultar could finish the question, and he nodded before moving to Kormor. "Kormor the half-breed of Ardir; will you join the Black Band?"

Kormor tried to maintain his composure, the tears still flowing, if a bit more faintly, but he managed to say it. "Yes."

Gultar waited a moment, reveling in prolonging their hunger. "Then, brothers, my castle is your home!" With this proclamation, the doors of the hall swung open, the light nearly blinding the group, to reveal a full feast of various meats, both wild and tame, a host of musicians, and the rest of the Black Band.

Kormor was in awe in what he was seeing, such a grand feast just for their entry into the Black Band, but he wouldn't say anything, without warning, members of the Band lifted both Kormor and Seadne up and carried them all the way into the Great Hall. The two were close by each other, Kormor once more looking to Seadne, this time a wide smile forming, and with all his might, he shouted something to his new borther. "WE DID IT BROTHER!" He joyously cried out to Seadne, calling him "brother" now.

The former shepherd laughed heartily, his former lankiness replaced by the muscled body of a soldier. "Yes, yes we did, my friend!"

Later, during the feast, Daigahn approached Kormor, and said, "Meet me in the courtyard tomorrow morning. It's time for your first mission, soldier." Despite the joyous occasion, he seemed only slightly greater in his levity.

"Of course." Kormor replied, eager for his first real mission as a true member of the Black Band, however, that can wait till the next morning, tonight was one of celebration. Kormor immediately begun to dig in, chomping into pieces of chicken, lamb, whatever one can think of, followed by guzzling down nearly a barrel's worth of wine.

The following morning, a hung-over Kormor stumbled through the courtyard, there waiting for him on que was Daigahn. "Uhhhrg....you wanted to speak with me about a mission?"

Daigahn stood in the courtyard with a wagon pulled by a team of Karkadanns behind him. He looked impatient, his blade hanging in his belt and his eyes piercing the half-breed."Yes, get your things ready, we're leaving."

A short time had passed, Kormor rushing to gathering his gear for the mission, before long he hopped aboard the cart as they departed. Sitting next to Daigahn. "What's our mission exactly, sir?" Kormor asked.

At first, Daigahn didn't say much, instead handing him a rolled up scroll and saying, "Don't lose this. If you do, you die." On it were three stamps, each a different symbol; the first, a ship, the second, a crown, and the third, a black castle. After a while, they had made it out of the castle, and as they moved through the rebuilding village, the sergeant said, "So...I guess you know that you'll be shipping out to the Emerald Empire with us."

Kormor was silent for a moment, taking in that bit of information. "...I heard whispers about the deal, didn't put much thought into it...Looks like I'll be thrown in that mess too." Kormor was both excited....and fearful. This would be the first time he's being shipped off to a warzone, against Vitium of all things.

At the word 'mess', the Grogar swiftly hit Kormor over the back of the head. "Be proud, soldier!" He exclaimed. "What, you thought you'd join the Band without fighting a war? Piss off!"

"Ow!" He cried out. "Don't take it the wrong way, sir." He said, not wanting to disrespect. "I was just expecting....a "down" period. I won't object to fighting in war, but I didn't expect to be fighting in a war so soon."

"''Ell you're not fighting tomorrow." It seemed as though Kormor had lost his conversation privileges, as they passed through village after village without the half-breed even knowing their current mission. Finally, Daigahn spoke up again. "We're 'eaded to Jabion in Shasur to pick up a weapons shipment. That scroll's your proof of legality."

"I see." Kormor said, further examining the scroll. "Sounds simple enough I'd say, how much we getting out of this?"

"What, the war with Matathran?" Daigahn asked in response.

"Yeah, I'd say those treefolk would pay a hefty price for the Black Band's services." Kormor said.

The Grogar sniffed in. "Enough to fill a caravan of these wagons. Don't worry, half-breed, you'll get your labor's worth."As they passed the border into Shasur, Daigahn seemed to grow visibly uneasy.

Kormor taking notice, scans his surroundings, all he could see and hear was the general peaceful ambience of nature. "Something the matter, sir?" Kormor asked, curious.

Daigahn said nothing, clearly not caring how conversations are meant to work. After a while, he spoke up again. "I'm from here, is all. Shasur, born and raised."

"Ahh, I see." Kormor said. "Any good memories?'

"No."

Kormor smirked, followed by a light chuckle. "I can relate." The sergeant grunted in response, clearly unamused. As they pressed further into Shasur, the terrain grew more uneven, the trees more sparse, and the damage wreaked by the hurricane lessened with the higher elevation and cooler climate. About an hour later, the wagon went over another hill, and a great mountain came into the view in the distance, smoke seeming to rise from its mid-level.

"That's Mt. Jabion," Daigahn said. "Town at it's foot is where we're headed." He only seemed more worried, clinging tight to the reigns of the wagon, but the road grew more solid, even, and the terrain seemed quite beautiful.

Even in his prolonged stay in Olira, Kormor couldn't help but be mesmerized by the serene scenery, certainly nothing like Tarkima, or what little of Tarkima he could even reach. It certainly was tad warmer then back "home".

As they grew closer to the town of Jabion, they came upon a checkpoint, a few Shasurian guards standing in a barricaded area overlooked by a watchtower, upon which waved the flag of Shasur; a hammer and anvil. The wagon neared the checkpoint, and, seeing the passengers, the guards quickly blocked the road, displeased. Daigahn was more uneasy than ever, muttering, "You still got the scroll?"

"Sure do." Kormor replied, having the scroll in hand. "Think they'll give us trouble?"

"Oi!" One of the guards yelled before Daigahn could respond. He stepped forward, and Daigahn looked at him, not breaking his gaze. The other guards moved around to Kormor's side of the wagon, and the initial guard continued. "What you doing here, pig?"

"We're with the Black Band, headed straight to Pig Town," Daigahn responded. The guard snorted, spitting on the ground at the mention of the Band. Then he looked for a long while at Kormor before nodding at him.

"Mongrel got papers?"

"Yeah I do." Kormor said, stretching out the scroll for the guards to see. "Black Band got some special business in town."

"Mind your fucking tone, beast," The guard replied, before he unscrolled the parchment, carefully examining every line of ink. "Tarkima?"

"Yeah." Kormor said, letting the insult slide, for now.

The guard grunted, clearing not caring too much, before flicking the scroll back at Kormor. "Cause any trouble in Jabion, you'll be hung up like a tunic." Kormor grunted back, the guard not worth wasting his words on. With that, the guard nodded to the guards blocking the road, gesturing to let them through. After around ten minutes, the wagon had passed through the open gate into Jabion.

The town of Jabion seemed wealthy beyond anything Kormor had seen in Talnoc so far, everyone in sight dressed in fine clothing, well fed and groomed. All of them were human, however, and as the two moved through town, closer to the mountain, all eyes seemed to turn to gaze at the outsiders.

The scenery wasn't too dissimilar to the Upper quarters of Ardirum, although the nobility was more...brutish. Here however, both Kormor and Daigahn stuck out like sore thumbs. The ceaseless stares from the masses unsettling him. "I can feel we're not wanted..."

"We're wanted. Just not here," Daigahn replied. Throughout the town was a heavenly combination of scents; freshly baked bread, cooking meats, flowers, but as they pressed further in, something putrid tickled the nostrils, and as they turned the corner it became apparent, the wagon seeing a woman hung, a sign reading 'Race Traitor' tied to her. Daigahn pretended not to see it.

"Oh Gods.." Kormor muttered to himself. "What do they mean by..Race Traitor?" Kormor asked hesitantly, fearing the unpleasant answer he would get.

The sergeant said nothing for a moment, then realized he owed it to him. "You're contraband here, soldier." He clearly didn't want to say anything further. Upon further inspection, it was obvious that the woman was pregnant.

"Oh..." The realization sunk in to him, could've been his own mother in a different time and place, fortunate though that such matters are not high on Ardir's list of priorities, for the moment at least. With that, Kormor grew silent for a while.

After a bit, the wagon arrived at another gate, this one closed and guarded. This guards, though still human and seemed more amenable. After checking Kormor's papers once more, they let the wagon through. "Welcome to Pig-Town," Daigahn muttered.

Pig-Town was a whole other world from the rest of Jabion. It was in complete and total squalor, children running amok and nearly naked through the streets, and groups of grogars seeming to follow the wagon. "Don't look at them," Daigahn said through gritted teeth. The buildings were in shambles, most of them no more than shacks, and the whole of the town smelled of garbage. Above them, Mt. Jabion overlooked dauntingly, and a path leading from Pig-Town to the mountain was busy with wagons of stones and ores. And, of course, everyone in Pig-Town was a Grogar.

Jabion was too much like home, even complete with its own slum, Kormor did as asked, and averted his gaze from any Grogar passing by, especially those following them. But the brief glimpses of the Pig-Town was a constant reminder of his old life in Tarkima, and to confront that so soon was quite unpleasant.

Suddenly, the Wagon came a stop, and Daigahn ordered the half-breed to get out of the cart. He gave Kormor a coin purse. "This is the payment for the weapons. You go inside, tell them you need the order for the Band. Show him your scroll. Got it? He seemed uneasy, Grogars gathering around them. "I-I'll keep watch."

"Got it, I'll be in and out." Kormor turned away, walking past the door, the overwhelming smell of molten metal filling the air, Grogar smiths crafting various weapons and melting down useless pieces of metal. Kormor walked further into the building, the smiths taking notice of his arrival.

From a short distance, a lone human man, the Overseer of this establishment, emerged from the background, with a wide smile. "Welcome! Welcome!" The older human man greeted Kormor. "How may I be of assistance to you?"

Although the friendliness was offputting, it was somewhat a welcoming sight in this city, outside of the Black Band of course. "I've come to pick an order for the Black Band." Kormor said, presenting the scroll to the Overseer, followed by a toss of the coin purse.

"Ahh, yes, the Band, your weapons are set and ready, I'll have some of my men move the crates to your cart!"

"Thanks." Kormor said, swiftly turning back to meet back with Daigahn, sharing the good news of a relatively calm mission, until he heard some troubling sounds further ahead, something was going outside, no doubt trouble for him and the sergeant.

Outside, a group of Grogar were in front of Daigahn, the building's wall behind him. All of these Grogars were males with wolf tooth necklaces, and similar tatoos of wolf prints on their face. "I'll ask you one more time," their leader said, breathing close to the sergeant, "Give us the ape-spawn." Daigahn said nothing, but when the Grogar raised his hand to strike him, he grabbed it tightly, then punched him squarely in the face, causing him to crumble onto the ground. Another grogar stepped forward, but the sergeant ducked his strike and grabbed him, forcing him into the wall. The Overseer stepped outside to see the commotion.

"Oh Serenity!" he exclaimed, "I'll get help," and he ran off towards the main town of Jabion.

Kormor drew his blade. "Get away from him you bastards!" he cried out, catching their attention. One of the Grogar charged directly charging for him, Kormor braced himself, holding on tightly to the blade's hilt as he dodged the charging brute, forcing him to crash against a pile of empty crates.

"OI! GET THE FUCK TO THE WALLS!" Screamed a human guard, and just like that the fight was over, a team of guards shoving the grogars to the walls of the building and screaming at them as they started patting them down with the overseer standing behind them. Daigahn fearfully looked to Kormor.

"Drop the blade and do what they say!"

Without question, Kormor dropped his weapon, and raised his hands. One of the guards grabbed him and roughly shoved him against the wall, screaming at the top of his lungs. "I will fucking end you! Do you hear me, mongrel? I will spread your guts on the road and no one will fucking care, do you hear me?" Kormor choose not to answer and simple grunted at the guard. The guard began patting around his body, invasively feeling for weapons, when one of the Grogars, the first one Daigahn had punch, loudly snarled, pushing the guard off of him, drew a dagger and slashed him across the throat. The guard stepped back, breathing for air as his red blood spilled down onto the dirt floor, and collapsed. The rest of the guards quickly flung the Grogar to the floor, kicking him and beating him with complete brutality. In the chaos, the rest of the Grogars ran off, and the Overseer opened the door to the smithy.

"Get in!" he hissed to Daigahn and Kormor.

Kormor was quick to act and followed Daigahn in the smithy. The Overseer swiftly shut the door before the guards took notice of their absence. "Thanks you.." Kormor said to the Overseer. "You didn't have to do it, you know.."

"It's not good for business, leaving a client out like that, besides, to have such esteemed and recognized mercenaries such as the Black Band as clients, well, it's an honor!"

Daigahn was visibly shaking pacing around with his hands behind his head, before turning to Kormor, and yelled, "NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!"

"I WAS TRYING TO SAVE YOU!" Kormor yelled back defiantly. The sergeant was silent for a moment, regaining his composure as he sat down. "Don't forget, we're brothers now, the Black Band has taught me this, we stick together, no matter what." Kormor said, calming down.

"I-yeah...yeah, I'm sorry." He then looked to the Overseer, his large canines bared in a snarl. "Don't call the guards on a Grogar, ape, unless you want to see him dead."

"Y-yes, of course." The Overseer replied, still a bit shaken. "My lips are sealed."

Daigahn grunted, when a knock was heard on the door. The Overseer started to move, but Daigahn beckoned him to stay, rising himself and opening the door. A guard stood there. "Where's the half-breed?" The sergeant rose a bit, puffing out his chest.

"Inside. He's a member of the Band. So am I." He turned around to Kormor. "Show him your papers."Kormor stepped out into view, presenting the scroll to the guardsmen, no doubt this will keep them at bay. The guard took it, glancing over it briefly, and looked back to Daigahn.

"Look, we don't want to mess with the Band. Best to keep out of trouble. But you two've got to leave."

"We're picking up a delivery." Daigahn looked behind the guard, looking at Kormor's blade still laying on the ground. "And he'll need that back." The guard's eyebrows knit in defiance.

"I don't think so, he-"

"You want to mess with the Band?" The guard was silent for a second, hatred brewing in his eyes, before stepping out of the way and looking to Kormor.

"Take it."

"Thank you." Kormor said, walking and then knelled over his blade, grabbing it and sheathing it. "We'll be out of your way, I don't want to be here anymore then you do."

"Hm," The guard chuckled, turning around, clearly displeased with the situation at hand. "Then don't mind us, pigs. We'll just be picking up the corpses."

Legend of the Silver Legion Redux (Open)

Collab between Sigma and Draco.

Heimyal Docks
Firgus and Olaf pushed their way through the frenzied crowds as the booming voices of the treemen of the Emerald Empire rang in the air as they made their irresistible offer to the warriors of Clan Brakor.

Having arrived abore a flotilla of living carraks and longships only moments earlier and their two leaders, a dryad male and female wearing old yet well maintained Shenran platemail, had both immediately begun telling anyone and everyone who could hear them about the reason they were here.

“...in slow moving baggage trains” the man was saying “winding its way through rugged terrain, ripe for ambush.“

“Bounties for Vitium soldiers and their equipment” explained the woman to others, gesturing enthusiastically with a fistful of gold coins “or keep some of it to use for yourself” she thumped her fist against the breastplate that had presumably been peeled of the corpse of some long dead knight “its quality stuff, but the bastards don’t know how to use it proper. Never worked a day in their lives I’ll bet, got slaves to do that for em.”

The two were stood atop what appeared to be a small pile of trunks. Heavy, and heavily guarded, trunks. Those guards were a number of ironbark armored dryads who formed a loose perimeter around the chests in order to ensure the Brakor respected of their leaders personal by forming a physical barrier to shield the speakers from jostling that might distract them from their showmanship.

Firgus had caught only but a fraction of what the dyrads had spoken of, but it was quite clear what they had came for. He scanned his surroundings, searching for his daughter, and much to his relief, she was within sight, her eyes turned their gaze upon her father, and was met with a wide smile. "Father!" She exclaimed, rushing over to his side, Farald not too far behind. They had a brief embrace as they turned their attention towards the new visitors. "My chieftain." Farald spoke. "The treemen, they offer us a great bounty to the South!"

"It' true!" Elina agreed. "War is coming! And the treemen need the warband!"

Firgus was speechless for the most part, caught off guard with this revelation, part of him was proud his daughter will soon become a true warrior, this war proving to be her Tarkiman baptism of fire...but this as well worries him. "Father?" Elina said, her facial expression was one of mild concern for Firgus' silence. "It's fine my child." He reassured her. "I just worry for you, this will be a hard battle to come, in more ways then one." He said, referring to the dilemma regarding Vitium. The Slaver Guilds of Clan Brakor are among the more powerful blocs within the Brakor Hierarchy, amassing riches from their trade with the Cities of Vitium, and Brakor warriors fighting Vitium soldiers alongside their enemies would present a problem indeed. The Pact with the Dryads however, must be honored, and to an extent, may absolve Brakor of any wrong doing against Vitium...at least he prays to be so.

Olaf tapped on Firgus' shoulder, taking notice of the heavy burden his friend and brother was carrying. "No need to fear. "Olaf said. "We'll deal with the guilds once word spreads, we must honor the pact with the treemen, or else we shame ourselves and future children yet to be born."

"Yes..you're right." Firgus said, a hint of confidence in his tone. "We'll deal with them when the time comes."

It was one of the ships that first caught sight of the chieftain beyond the crowd. At the front of the ship was a painted bust of a mermaid, her delicate arm outstretched, pointing forwards and seemed to have a spiral of runic tattoos spiraling up it ending at her for finger. The head of this bust had been turning, almost noticeably, as it scanned the crowd until finally it’s softly glowing eyes become fixed on the chieftain. While the armored warriors continued their showboating and distracting another dryad, wearing an unusual armor made of the purple chitin of a Furyogoth, no boots and a small choker that was akin to a miniature version of the bubble belt that had been shown to the black band, was deposited on the deck by the spotter ship using a large wooden arm growing out of of its deck. This dryad then began to make their way towards Firgus, skirting their way around the crowd as best they could.

Firgus took notice of the strange dryad approaching him giving a perplexed look upon the stranger, with little else to say, he just asked. "Yes..?" He begun. "May I help you?" Elina, Farald, and Olaf stood and waited for a response as well, curious to hear what the dryad had wanted.

“Firgus Holen?” the asked dryad rhetorically “Yaval would like to speak with you somewhere a little more private. Could you come aboard Erstariana the Maiden” the dryad stabbed a thumb back over his shoulder towards the mermaid figureheaded ship he had come from. Erstariana helpfully, disconcertingly, waved at Firgus' group to make itself stand out more “as soon as your available?”

"Of course." He said, turning to the others. "Elina, Farald, ready yourselves and the others, you will be leaving port for the Emerald Empire."

Elina nodded. "Yes, father." She complied, motioning Farald to follow her as they both join the rest of warband. "Olaf, join me." Firgus turned his attention to his advisor. "Of course." Olaf replied as the two men followed the dryad, soon boarding the living ship, this was honestly quite the day for the old chieftain.

The living ships were already and oddity, titans of bark, foliage and branches forming a facsimile of a watercraft, yet the ship still managed to have something out of place on it, for a large section of the deck had been made into a small garden. Grass covered dirt dotted with various flowers was packed into a 4 meter wide bowl that hosted at its center a single four meter tall Tree. Standing next to it, with one hand laid against the bark of the Tree was a dryad woman wearing ironbark armor that featured a knee length skirt of purple chitin and a choker that matched the first dryad’s. She appeared to be deep in contemplation, staring at the Tree she was touching, until she was broken away by the first dryad clearing his throat.

“Ah. um. Hello Chief Holen. I am... I mean…. I speak for Yaval. Or rather Yaval speaks through me.

While the voice of Yaval found her feet the first dryad walked off of the dirt to stand with his bear(or bare, unless it is actually the feet of a bear) feet touching the raw bark of the ship.

“And Erstariana, this fleet’s Warmaster of spring, speaks through me. Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”

Frigus was taken aback with Yaval's way of communication, to an extent, it was frighting, but he remained composed, not showing any sign of weakness. He gave a bow of respect, "You honor us with your presence, Yaval." He said, he turned to Olaf to introduce him. "This is Olaf, my trusted Advisor, friend, and brother."

"So, what brings you here, your...grace?" Olaf said, not exactly sure on how to even address Yaval.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance Olaf,” Erstariana began as Yavals ancient mind processed being called your grace “We are, as you might have noticed, to hire mercenaries” they continued. Because Yaval was often thought of as a representation of the Dreaming as a whole they had misunderstood Firgus‘s words as a question for them all rather than for the ancient tree itself. He had however provided Yaval enough time to contemplate a response however.

“I would prefer if you referred to me as Yarval (or Yaval?), for I am simply first among equals. I wear no crown, nor do I hold any dominion other than the soil in which I grow. I speak for the Forest as a whole because they trust and believe in my wisdom and ability to understand and represent their wishes, desires and circumstances, but I hold no inherent authority over my kind.”

There was a brief pause as Yaval momentarily turned their attention to a urgent event elsewhere. They returned just before anyone else could start speaking.

“As for why I am here, it is to bring the knowledge and desires of my kin here from all the corners of our empire. Information wins wars, this has been learned, and through pieces of myself like the one before you I can bring news of events in far of place far faster than any courier, ship or messenger bird.”

"Is that so?" Firgus said, quite intrigued with this, especially if it means he can be constantly aware of his daughter's situation if need be, granted he would not dare bother Yaval with such a minor thing in comparison to the the wider war....at least not too much. "We'll find this very useful, I will need to know on the well-being of my warriors."

“Unfortunately, this part of me shall not be staying.... However, for purpose of keeping you up to date we could establish a temporary embassy. I...” the speaker paused for a moment before once again correcting herself “Meraltisa, and a few associates could stay behind with a smaller cutting of myself. This would allow us to keep you informed and allow us to assist you should certain merchants cause difficulties for you.”

“It is due to them that we wished to speak with you privately, to keep information from getting into the hands of those that can be bought.” Erstariana informed them, continuing Yavals pattern of not mentioning the slaver guilds name. This was part of the ongoing aggressive ignoring of the slavers being done by the Emerald Empire. They would not trade directly with anyone that worked directly for them, not that this stopped their wares being sold on to the guild if they really desired them. There was also a rumor going around that slaves would ‘mysteriously’ disappear when living ships where in port.

“Specifically we want to relay some information to you, as our ally, that is sensitive to the war effort. As such we would appreciate that you keep it to yourself for the time being”

Firgus pondered, and thought to himself, before turning his attention back to the Yaval's speaker. "Very well, I'll allow it." He said with a confident tone. "The Emerald Empire is free to set up their embassy here in Heimyal, and no one outside this vessel will be aware of its true purpose, I guarantee you that as Chieftain of the Brakor."

“Finally there is the worrying information that the Morj, those betentacled seafolk that plague our shared ocean, have grow bold enough to intervene with a continental conflict. We have word from a relatively reliable source that they have allied themselves with Matathran, and that they have an armada that they will be using to blockade the bay of lights. That they are taking interest in surface affairs and are apparently now capable of organizing an actual army is concerning, as is their association with the expansionist Matathran. The two of them together would present a naval force that would be… concerning.” An understatement of colossal proportions.

A nightmare haunted the dreaming, a vision of Nine immolated islands in a burning sea.

“Of more immediate relevance is that blockade, we would suggest you dissuade your people from making journeys through the bay, even to cities not in the contested area. However, we would like that our knowledge of the Morj remain a secret for now, so please keep that detail to yourself as you do so.”

Firgus stroked his beard, taking in all the relevant information that Yaval had presented to him. These were troubling times indeed. "Very well, you have my word." Firgus said, nodding. "Nothing what you have told me will leave this room, as said before." Olaf stepped forward to speak. "And we will guarantee our people will steer clear of your waters, many will be eager to join in the fight."

“Excellent, excellent. Now. the other matter we wished to discuss with you are those whose ears might relay said information, if it were not going to be kept quiet, to our enemies. We are aware that you might have trouble with certain merchants who trade with Vitium will not be pleased with your, most honorable and appreciated, keeping of your word. With Meraltisa staying here we would appreciate it if you kept her in the loop of any trouble they might cause, as she and we may be of assistance. Certain arrangements and trade deals could be organized to ensure that their misfortune does not impact the rest of your people economically.”

The twin opportunities of being the Brakor more closely to the Empire and driving a wedge between them and the slaver guilds was one the Dreaming Forest found rather alluring. There would be little time to focus on that now, but after the war it might provide an interesting and productive course of action.

"It's often rare to involve outsiders in clan matters...but we don't object." Firgus said, Olaf nodding in agreement. "We've already crossed the threshold, might as well remedy the damage that will be done."

“Thank you. We will not interfere without your matters without your explicit blessing, of that you have our word.” Erstariana concluded before Yaval spoke up once more, having remained silent, and possibly absent, while the report had been being delivered. “Before Meraltisa goes to prepare what she needs for the embassy, are there any questions you desire to ask?”

Firgus shook his head. "I think our discussion has been satisfactory."Firgus said. "If we are not needed, I must be on my way."

Meraltisa nodded in response and then hurried off into the bowels of the ship while Erstariana concluded. “Understandable. Meraltisa and her escorts will come find you as soon as they are ready. Thank you for your time and cooperation.“

Both men nodded as they made their departure from the living ship, stepping out onto the docks as the crowds persist, pushing their way past the many more potential recruits as flowed through the docks in like a flood. Once the duo had finally broke free from the crowds, their cart had remained as is, the guard patiently awaiting their return. "What's going on?" The young man asked.

"War my boy." Olaf answered. "Our deal with the treemen is baring fruit."

"Oh, I see." The guard replied, curious of the offer.

"First get us back to the castle, then you're free to offer your services." Firgus ordered.

The guard nodded. "Yes chief!" He replied with great enthusiasm, and with that, the two men hopped aboard the cart and proceeded onward to the Clan Chief's castle.

Legend of the Silver Legion Redux (Open)

Collaboration between Gold and Sigma.

Tarkima, Ardir Lands, Town of Karkan

The Town of Karkakn, one of many "uplifted" settlements that dotted the tarkiman lands of Ardir, once rugged, and savage clan settlements of old, ones that had yet been gifted by the touch of proper civilization and the loving embrace of the Serene One. Their warlike nature slowly fading out as contractors from across the Serene Kingdoms flooded this foreign and far off land, and became the building blocks of a new Serene Kingdom on the rise.

Karkan now was a relatively peaceful, and for the most part, uneventful town, settled far from the border from either the Brakor or Fervari, deep in the heartlands, serving as one of several "waypoints" within Ardir, the town in close proximity to the trading hub city of Dalir, as such, the most action to be seen for the local garrison is the occasional bandit attack, to be stationed in the waypoint towns is a guaranteed break from the front.

-------------------------------

The town grew silent as the moon hung high, torches lit aflame as a number of town guards prepared for the nightwatch, ever vigilant, even for improbable attacks from the heathen clans. A pair of Grogar clad in Royal Army armor standing watch within one of the guard towers next to the southern gate, preparing for long night. "Brought the cards?" One of them spoke.

"You know it." The other responded, pulling a stack of cards from a small sack and placing them on a empty crate as a makeshift table. "Good! Let's begin!"

It was at that moment the dark purple sky opened up with a flash of light, a ball of fire raging down from the heavens. The strange comet slammed into the fields outside the gates, blasting dirt in all directions with a tremendous bang. Strange shards of yellow crystal shrapnel littered the perimeter of the now smoking hole, and a near silent hiss replaced the night time noise.

The comet's arrival had caught the watchmen off guard, as they stumbled and fell to the ground as it made landfall, sending a shockwave, no doubt its impact awakening everyone in town. Without much hesitation, one of the guards redundantly rang the alarm bell, just to be sure of course. "By Serenity! What the hell was that!?!?!" The other guard shouted in a mixture of confusion and fear.

"No damned clue..." The other responded as he stopped ringing the bell, the Commander of the Karkan Garrison being quick to act as he and a small company of town guard were rushing out of the gate, making their way towards the impact site, the two watchmen quick to follow as well as they climbed down their tower with great haste.

As the guards approached the hissing crator, it became very apparent by their torch light that something remained in the center. Catching the glow of the fire, a strange humanoid figure laid in the gaping hole, the light reflecting off strange, heavily damaged and fragmented crystal armor, and what once may have been heavenly wings laid twisted and broken around the being, a honey like fluid leaking from where it had snapped. Despite the alien features, the sky warrior held the face of a man, eyes closed, and a gentle breath exiting its mouth. Heat continued to hiss from the being's surroundings and heavily damaged armor, but underneath the human form seemed externally unharmed, save the wings.

"By Serenity..." A soldier out of the group muttered, grasping a hanging piece of metal from a chain necklace, the piece shaped like the circular symbol of the Serene Church. The others were dumbfounded at what they're seeing, was this being possibly a servant of the Serene One? Or perhaps....an enemy? "...Get him back to the barracks." The Commander ordered as he motioned his hand towards the winged stranger, the soldiers hesitant to even get near him. "Did I stutter?" He asked, with a hint of annoyance. "Someone pick him up, now!"

Also somewhat hesitant, the nightwatch pair emerged from the group, walking slowly in as they both lifted up the stranger. "Get him to the Barracks, we'll question him later." The Commander said, then turned to one of the soldiers. "You get yourself a horse and ride for Dalir, the Church may find this...interesting."

"Yessir!" He replied, running back to town.

----

Propped up on a hay woven bed frame, fitted with furs the man from the sky was under heavy surveillance. The guards stood around him gawking, as they have been for at least an hour now. More than a few clenched their jaws with mistrust, and some further still did away with such concepts for the sake of curiosity.

Time ticked away, and then seemed to finally stop as the man's eyes opened. A brilliant yellow encased his eyes, not unlike the crystals that had protected him. Slowly they adjusted to white, and a pupil formed, circled with a light brown iris. Not a lash was on his eyelid or hair on his body as he looked around the room. His expression was unclear, even devoid of confusion despite the bizarre circumstance. Slowly a twist of pain conquered the man's face, and his mangled wings twitched, leaking that strange honey like liquid, which then slowly evaporated as it dripped. He looked as if he stifled a scream, forcing himself to sit up off his destroyed flying apparatus.

Several men armed with spears surrounded him, pointed and ready just in case he was hostile, the Commander stood behind, waiting as he awoke. He walked past the soldiers, approaching the winged stranger. "Who are you?" The Commander asked, being rather straightforward.

The man seemed to strain at the question, "I am... Kestrial."

"Kestrial you say?" The Commander said. "And where did you come from?"

"I come from the God of all," Kestrial answered idly, looking around in curiosity. His face turned to one of fright and fear, "the demons!" His eyes bulged, "they are coming!"

"...Lower your weapons.." The Commander ordered,

"Sir?"

"I said lower your weapons." They complied, withdrawing their spears. "Are you truly of the Serene One? And what Demons do you speak of?"

"They float through the night in secret, and build armies of stone. We cannot let them succeed, or God will surely fall. They aim to destroy all we have done, all that is ours. We must find their hideaways, destroy their trinkets, smash their statues, and slit their throats," Kestrial spewed hysterically, "they will not stop until their final breath is drawn, for they hate us with intensity, they hate all creations of our God. God now walks from the east, my brethren by his side. But the demons follow, and with them the destruction of all that is good. I have come to warn of their armies, but even on my flight, I too was targeted, only a ward spell of flame to protect me as I descended."

The Commander was now veering onto confusion, perhaps...he may have spoken too soon. But he must ask. "Are you truly a servant of the Serene One?" He repeated his question, these "Demons" the man speaks of...barely any records in Church scripture speaks of such beasts.

"I do not know the Serene One, only God," Kestrial answered.

The Commander stood silent for a moment. "Very well, for now, you may rest here for the night..." He quickly turned, motioning the others to follow and so they did. After closing the door shut, the commander spoke. "This man....is either crazy or a very confused messenger of the Serene One...either way, the Church will find this interesting..."

Suddenly Kestrial let out a blood curdling scream from behind the door, and an ear shattering screech followed, the word unmistakable as it drowned out Kestrial's cry, "LIAR." One of the guards instinctively busted the door open, his own head still reeling from the inhuman screech. As he did he let out a scream of his own, his eyes seeing a floating ethereal body disappear through the wall. His fearful eyes bounced to Kestrial, but only a shell of yellow crystal remained, pools of honey like liquid evaporating from it's broken open head.

The Commander drew out his sword and rushed in, only to be met with a now unconscious soldier and a hollowed out husk of the the winged stranger left behind. Such a sight was deep down...terrifying."What the hell happened...this is.." The Commander, and soon others that rushed in as they fell to their knees, clasping their hands together as they prayed. "Oh Serene One..preserve us..."

Legend of the Silver Legion Redux (Open)

Brakor City of Heimyal

The Docks of the Port-City of Heimyal were bustling and ablaze with life as hundreds of warriors, ranging from Grogar, Drimor and Humans, all cluttered enmass as they prepared for their long-delayed incursion into Ardir territory, much to the ire of their now impatient warmaster. The Warmaster stood in the center of it all, behind him was his flagship, the banners of Clan Brakor flying proudly atop of the vessel as the gust of wind pushed against it. Flanking him on his right was his trusted lieutenant, Urlild, a Grogar of average build, but was visibly the eldest of the duo, half-blind, wrinkled skin. Atop his scalp was an old nasty scar from a previous battle long ago, two small pieces of iron keeping the wound whole.

"Alright ya layabout bastards!" The tall and imposing Warmaster Asgorgh Gormk bellowed out. "I want this warband in tip top shape! Those fancy ardir flowers ain't gonna wait on us!" Select warriors among the crowd cheered and roared back, their thirst for battle growing with each hour. The past few days had been a headache for the Warmaster, fierce storms dominating the coast like no other, even he was not bold or mad enough to brave through such monster weather.

And so, his warband was forced to wait out until the storm finally passed and when it finally did pass, time was of the essence. "Warchief ain't going to be too pleased with this..." He said to Urlid, tilting his head slightly over to the old grogar, he was met with a light chuckle from him.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that..." Urlid replied, motioning towards a particularly noticeable young couple in front of the inn across the crowds. "Ahhh..." was all Asgorgh could muster. The Warchief's only daughter had requested to join on this recent raid, much to her father's paranoid apprehension, of course, she would not go alone, her betrothed, Farald, would follow closely behind, keeping the love of his life safe. "Heh, Not sure if he's too happy with the boy either." The Warmaster joked, giving a wide, toothy smile.

"Regardless, she needs the experience." Urlid said, biting onto an apple he held on to. "I was her and farald's age in my first raid, and it just was...exhilarating." Urlid's wrinkled face brightened up as he reminisced his youth.

On the other side of the crowds, Farald and Elina prepared for their departure, Farald handing over a small sack of coins to the dock Innkeep, before stepping out of the Inn. Elia waved goodbye to the rather polite innkeep, followed by mounting her shield atop her back, and unsheathed her sword as he made a small inspection of the weapon. Farald returned by her side, and took notice of the expression of uneasiness on her face. "Nervous?" He said, placing his hand over her shoulder.

"Oh..farald." Elina spoke sheepishly, her eyes shifting back and forth. "...Yes." she admitted. "I admit..I wanted this, it took all my might to convince my father...yet."

"I know, but know I will never leave your side." Farald reassured his love. "After all, we are to be married and..my life is at stake." The last bit was but a jest on Farald's part, Elina chuckled. "That is a good point!" She jested as well. For a brief few moments, they looked at one another with kind eyes and soon embraced one another, a number of fellow warriors rolling their eyes at such a sight, often and appropriately giving the moniker of "lovebirds". Regardless of their approval or disapproval, the two were passionate for one another, developing from small childhood crushes to the here and now of their relationship. Their embrace cut short from the Warmaster's beastly roars as he grew more and more agitated with the delay.

"We best get moving. "Elina said with a warm smile.

"Agreed."

The two follow a group of warriors as they're about to board one of the larger vessels of the fleet, before something strange had occurred. No one knows who first alerted the docks of the incoming Emerald ships, but nonetheless, small flotilla of ships hailing from the Emerald Empire were on fast approach to the docks, taking several empty spots to the left of the warband's staging point, their arrival possibly delaying the raid even further, no doubting irking the shit out of the Warmaster. "By the Forge Mother! What now?!?"

--------

A few days passed since their faithful encounter with the Yeti, Firgus, Olaf and their guard companion continuing their journey back the the city gates on the horizon. The mood in the air was a peaceful one as they traversed though the serene landscape of Tarkima, a rather ironic thing to say considering the people of the land, yet despite this, there was beauty to be found in the "warmer" seasons in Tarkima. The two aged men sat in the back of the carriage with the fresh kill, the lone guard responsible for directing the yak pulling the cart to Heimyal. The two friends causally converse, as they near the city, shouldn't be long now before they're finally home. "I think these old bones deserve some much needed rest." Olaf said.

"I'm with you on that my good friend." Firgus said in agreement. "A good rest, then we feast!" The cart slowly came to a still as the gates slowly opened, finally, they were home. Their return was met with a few waves from clansmen, children flanking the sides of the cart as they raced along the yak. The cart was passing by the docks, firgus wondered if the warband had left yet, he turned to face the small alley ways that led to the docks, only to be met with large crowds. "What?" He asked himself, confused, the warband hasn't even left, while of part of him is relieved, another part ponders why they still haven't left, this called for investigating. "Stop for now." He ordered the guard. Without question, the guard pulled on the yak as it came to a slow stop, Firgus jumping off the cart and headed for the docks, Olaf not far behind.

Legend of the Silver Legion Redux (Open)

Southern Tarkiman Wilderness

Tarkima, a primal and untamed realm filled with savage beasts and barbarian clans, all trapped within an endless cycle of violence and survival, none personify this then Mornog the Horned Troll, an seemingly ageless beast that has roamed lands for centuries, searching endlessly for prey to satiate his bottomless hunger.

-------------------------

Hunger. Hunt. Hunger. Hunt.

These words repeat over and over within the simple mind of this towering beast as it lumbered along the breezy grasslands, smaller creatures fleeing the unnatural troll as it pursed its small prey.

Hunger. Hunt. Hunger. Hunt

Mornog's presence wouldn't be so easily ignored, for the past week, a small Brakor War Party had followed the Horned Troll, with the hopes of being the select warriors to finally put an end to the beast of legend. From afar in a nearby forest, a band of thirty warriors hid and waited as Mornog lumbered on through the fields, the leader of the band, a young blond human, crept further ahead, slowly raising his clenched fist as he he order his men to remain still till he gave the signal, this was it, today was the day the beast dies, to free Tarkima of Mornog's reign of terror.

With his confidence high, the War Party leader lowered his fist and pulled out a battle horn, blowing with all his might as the booming sound of battle rang in the air. The warriors sharply stood up and charge from the forest, letting out their battle cry as Mornog took notice, his new prey foolishly displaying themselves for the picking.

Letting his his deafing roar, the troll answered their challenge and charged forth. Within mere moments, they clashed, the war party scattering to evade the beast's stomp, several of which were slow to react as Mornog crushed them beneath his heels. "Bring it down!" A warrior cried out as he readied his spear as tossed it towards Mornog, the tip of the spear barely piercing the hardened troll flesh.

Several more spears flew in the air, all bouncing off. "Damnation!" One of them cried out, before being fling halfway across the grass fields from one swing from Mornog's claw, all the while, a few more warriors were quickly consumed by the beast.

"No...No.." The war party leader mumbled, this was to be his moment, his heroic tale to be told to children for ages to come, this was to be his fable, his dream... all of it shattered. It won't end like this, he won't allow it to be so, by the grace of the Gods, he will slay the Troll.

With one last battle cry, he charged towards Mornog, lunging his axe onto the hide, blood seeping out from the wound like a river as he climbed up the back of the beast, all the while, Mornog let out another deafening roar, the pain too much to simply ignore. No matter how much Mornog thrashed and swung, the warrior held on as he climbed his way near the neck, where he prepared to make his final strike to end it all. "Back to the foul pit with you Mornog!" The warrior cried out as readied to swing....however, his body had weakened, his grip was loosened as Mornog tossed one last time, shaking off the poor warrior as he flew against one of the trees from the forest, his body battered, bloodied and broken, but barely alive nonetheless. His defeat had broken the remainder of his war party as they fled in terror.

Mornog, out of malicious spite, stomped over and simply observed the dying warrior, coughing out blood and teeth shards as he looked up at the troll, his eyes filled with a rage typical of a tarkiman warrior, but remained helpless and was at death's door. "Go ahead...foul beast..end it..." he said weakly as he lost consciousness.

With that, Mornog grabbed the now lifeless body, and consumed it. After a bloody, yet brief skirmish, and a successful hunt....Mornog still felt the hunger pains...the hunt must go on...Hunt. Hunger. Hunt. Hunger.

He continued his hunt, moving further south, beyond the boundaries of the Tarkiman Clans, setting his sights on the Emerald Empire.

Legend of the Silver Legion Redux (Open)

Collab between Sigma and Ekreture.

Svawad Castle

Life bustled within the shelter of Svawad castle, as both the Black Band and the entirety of Svawad Village had found shelter from the storm withing walls and halls of the castle. Thus was the deal between the Band and the village; the village would feed the Band so long as they protected the villagers, both from forces of man and nature. Children played and scurried around while the soldiers parried swords, and village mothers fed the men of war while keeping watchful eyes on their daughters.

Though the newcomers' training schedule had been...dampened...training still went on, and, as the early training for the Black Band was, the newcomers were currently scrubbing the floors within the castle halls, while a Formorian sergeant looked on. Before the storm had arrived, the grueling training had taken its tole on them; many of them quit, and currently, only five of the recruits remain.

Kormor was less then enthused with cleaning duty, however, it a least was a far better alternative to his old life in the slums, a purpose and drive like none before driving him to impress his superiors, although in this case, he'll forgive himself for a less then perfect job done.

The sergeant snarled, kicking Kormor lightly in the back. "Pick it up, halfbreed! I want the floor spotless!" Seadne, still somehow sticking through the training, sighed and rolled his eyes, causing the sergeant to bend down and stare him in the face. "The fuck was that, shepherd?"

"Nothing, sir," Seadne replied, continuing his cleaning. He had actually turned out to be well suited to these initial weeks of training, surpassing his peers often, and his demeanor and physique had both began to seem more...soldierly.

"That's what I thought, now faster!" The sergeant spat back. Suddenly, the formorian stood at attention, as Gultar and Sula walked past briskly, engaged in an argument.

"It's too dangerous, general, just wait for the storm to be over!" Sula said loudly, her limp making it hard to keep up with Gultar, whose broad stature caused one of the trainees to fall over.

"It might not be there when the storms over." Suddenly, he stopped. "Do you forget our duty, Sula?" The general had been...frustrated...to say the least since the hurricane had begun. While he had of course allowed the villagers to seek refuge in his castle, it had begun to disrupt the pristine structure of the Black Band, as the children dirtied the halls, and the young women had begun to dirty his mens' minds. But despite his usual frustration, today seemed different; something was up.

Kormor scrubbed briskly as the sergeant's bloodthirsty sights had been set on him and Seadne, luckily, the General's arrival proved to be a good save for the both of them, as he was about to stand at attention, Kormor was knocked over as Gultar and Sula passed by. "Sorry, sir!" He apologized in haste.

Gultar didn't seem to notice the apology. "Look, Sula, you don't have to go, but it is my duty." The lieutenant stopped, her one eye closing as she sighed.

"Okay, just...be safe." With no response, Gultar strode out into the central room, and blew on his horn. Suddenly, all the voices ceased their chatter. Waiting for the room's attention to be on him, which it very soon was, Gultar began speaking.

"A magus has informed me that tomorrow there should be clearer weather. There is business i must attend to, but, being over the course of a few days, the storm will likely pick up again. I will need a few attendants to come with me. There will be danger, although I am not planning on a fight. This is a good chance to prove yourself, so if you would like to, come speak to me." He waited for a moment, and the room full of soldiers and villagers was silent for a while, before turning their attentions back to their conversations. "Fucking disgraces," Gultar muttered, as he shook his head and marched back towards the direction he came. Sula said nothing as he passed by.

Although the time to act was very short, Kormor pondered for that brief moment, and without much hesitation, Kormor spoke up loud and clear. "I..I volunteer, sir!" This could his moment to shine, to get the General's good graces and prove himself to the others, and as Gultar said, the possibly of any combat is low, which, especially with the current weather and whatever else is thrown at them, is a blessing. "I'll join you. "He repeated himself.

Seeing his friend volunteer, Seadne also shot up. "Me too...sir! I will go." Gultar turned around to see the two of them. The sergeant grimaced at them to sit down, but Gultar still surveyed them.

"Okay," he responded, "Meet me in the courtyard, tomorrow at dawn." He then turned, and walked away.

Kormor turned to face Seadne with a smirk on his face. "Should be simple enough a task, right?"

The next morning, Gultar stood waiting in the courtyard with three of his men; Seadne and three human veterans, as well as an ox who was pulling a cart loaded with wood, canvas, rope, and a locked chest. While the magus was not wrong, with there being little to no wind this day, there was still a slight downpour, and the cart had been covered by a black sheet to protect what was underneath.

Kormor approached the group, his blade and a small sack by his hips, the blade ready to be drawn just in case and the sack filled with small rations. Kormor scanned the skies, the weather seeming "calm" at the moment, but hurricanes can be such deceitful beasts of nature and can strike at any moments notice.

Gultar watched the half blood approach. "You're late," He said. Sighing, he turned and began walking. "Come, it's time we leave."

Seadne excitedly approached Kormor. "You know, we should really be honored. Not everybody is allowed to shelter the Shrine of the Seven." He was certainly not dressed for battle, looking much more ready for a long hike than for battle. His sling was tied as a belt around his tunic, and he carried no other supplies, evidently relying on those provided by the Band.

Kormor nodded in agreement. "Should be a good sight to see." Kormor has heard passingly of the Shrine of the Seven, but of course hasn't a full grasps of it, and of course has never seen it directly himself, this mission should provide an exxlcent opportunity to see it for himself. "Let's hurry on. " Kormor said. "General seems to be in a foul mood."

As they passed under the gate, Seadne nodded in agreement. "Aye, I think the state of the castle reflects the state of his mind. But he's like this a lot from what I've heard. I think during recruitment we caught him on a good day." As the party moved forward, they came upon the overlook above the village of Svawad, the group stopped in shock.

Much of the village lay in ruin, the storm having devastated the many houses and inns of the once thriving town. Dogs were running about, sniffing at the wreckage of the flooded buildings, and the few villagers who stayed to protect the houses were seen trying to sift through the rubble of where their houses once were.

Kormor stared in awe of the storm's power with the destruction it wrought , Ardirum was never hit this bad, although it doesn't help their on an island. With some concerns rising up within, Kormor spoke up. "Ugh, General." He paused for a moment out of fear. "How far is our destination?"

Barely taking the wreckage into account, Gultar didn't even look back at Kormor. "We should be there either tomorrow or in two days. Come, we can't stop," the general said as he motioned for the band to move on down the hill. "We bear north to Sciadire." As he started to move, the rest of the group didn't seem to follow, their feet stuck in the muddy ground with faces flushed in fear. Seadne took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"You heard the orders. We have to move." Hesitantly, the rest of the group started to follow.

Kormor struggled as he dragged himself through the muddy ground, every step a march in its own right as he struggled to pull a foot free with every strenuous step he took.

The day was dank and long, and as the group of soldiers marched on the woods, already strewn with fallen trees and debris, became more and more sparse with the north, and cobblestones of the road became misplaced on broken highways. The general seemed unfazed though, stalwart on the mission at hand.

As the already impeded sun fell farther to its western burial, the mercenaries came upon a group of men; around a dozen or so who surrounded the road. They carried shields and a variety of weapons, but had faces left malnourished and sickly bodies. These were clearly not professional fighters. The members of the Black Band started to slow down, when Gultar ordered, "Keep marching."

When the mercenaries came closer, one of the militia men carrying a cudgel stepped forward. "Oi, pigface! You're stepping in Sciadire now. Your kind ain't welcome." A couple more of their men stepped to his side, when he added on, "'Least without proper payment."

"Of course we're bound to run into trouble..." Kormor thought to himself as he followed orders and kept marching, paying no mind to the militia men. No doubt however, a fight was bound to occur, luckily however, these men were clearly outmatched compared to the Black Band, and Kormor would gladly put his training to use on these men.

Finally, Gultar raised his hand, ordering the men to stop, before he spoke up. "Is that so? Under who's captaincy do you serve?"

The highwaymen began laughing, and their apparent leader said, "Looks like the beast is gettin' fancy, 'ey?" He took another step forwards towards Gultar. "Capn' None-Of-Your-Fucking-Business, that's who!"

Unfazed, the pig-faced general quickly grabbed the man by the throat, as the rest of the highwaymen readied their weapons, and he turned to them. "I am General Gultar of the Black Band. We are to protect and restore the Shrine of the Seven. You will let us pass."

There was tension in the air for a while, their leader's facing turning purple as he chocked. Finally, one of the highwaymen spoke up. "Shrine of the Seven?"

"Aye."

"You think you can you can offer my sword to Siad?" The bandit politely requested. After a moment, Gultar nodded, and the militiaman trepidatiously stepped forward, offering the general his blade, and, after throwing down their leader, he accepted it, before the bandit nodded and stepped back into rank.

The highwaymen's leader was panting and cough on the ground, before he regained his footing and composure, and said, "Look...heh-we don't want to mess with Black Band. Just-be going now." Nodding, Gultar motioned for the rest of the group to keep walking, handing the bandit's blade to a soldier for to place in their car, before he started to move further down the path.

Kormor was quick to catch up, passing by th highwaymen and was met with glares and snarled looks, followed by one of the men spitting on him, Kormor paused for a brief moment, turning away and met the group with his own death glare, he felt that urge to just end them all right here and now, but that probably would reflect poorly on him to his superiors and of course, the General.

As they marched on, Seadne playing a slow tune on a flute of his, one of the soldiers approached Kormor. "Half blood...general wants 'a talk to you. Don't know 'bout what."

Kormor complied, and moved ahead of the others, eventually moving along by the General's side, "You wanted to speak with me General?" He asked, curious what Gultar could want from him.

Not looking at the trainee, Gultar said, "Yes." Waiting for a moment, he began, "Wind is picking up. Storm should hit hard tonight. We'll find shelter soon." It seemed for a moment all the general wanted was a pleasant chat about the weather. That was unlikely the case, and he spoke up again after another pause. "How have you found your time in the Band so far, er...what was your name again?"

"It's Kormor, sir." He replied. "And...it's an odd feeling, but I've adjusted to it,and found a sense of belong, sir. "Kormor paused for a moment, stroking his beard. "Life among us thieving street rats was more...unpredictable and deadly. Here though, I've seen true brotherhood, I think."

"Hm." It seemed that for someone of his position, Gultar's sentences were often short and far between. "I have been to Tarkima but once. Clan Ardir, in fact. Guarded a merchant ship, before I founded the Band. It was cold. But the Grogars were different, not like Formoriin." He let out a slow grunt. "Have you been to Formor yet?" There was a tinge of malice in these words.

Kormor shacked his head. "Haven't been." He replied. "Why ask, General?" This little conversation made Kormor all the more curious on where this is leading to.

There was a strange sadness in Gultar's eyes. "Ah. Nothing, nothing." Searching for reason, he added, "Most ships from Tarkima go to Formor, that is all." He began searching for words. "I...you did well...back there. With the bandits."

"...Thank you, sir." Kormor said, meeting Gultar with a small smile, but in truth, he was caught off guard with this moment, seeing a sort of "softer" side of the General that he's barely seen before, it was odd, yet, not unwelcome. "I've grown used to it, but I certainly won't let it slide every now and then."

Gultar grunted in response. There was another short silence as a cool wind blew through the land. "You know, the man was right back there. Our kind isn't allowed in Sciadire. In fact, were it not for the grace of the storm, we'd be hanging from a tree." They keep walking for a bit. "Once had a job here before the Band, not too far from here in fact." He smirked. "Yeah, in a village just over yonder," he said, pointing in the direction of the village.

"Bunyip had taken residence in the local resevoir. Don't know if you've seen a Bunyip...nasty creatures. Usually local hunters take care of beasts but...Bunyips are different. And this one was big. So the villagers put together some money and hire a captain to find some Taisafirin. Me and Sula, we were staying at an inn in Talnoc at the time, and Sciadire was having a...minor conflict with Shasur, so all the local Taisas were indisposed. Captain had to cross over to Talnoc, and he finds us and a couple other men, takes us to the reservoir and gives us some pikes." He chuckles. "Was a mean beast...lost one of the men...hell, Sula broke her damn arm," he said, sighing before continuing, "But we killed it. Had to drag the body all the way to village. 'Course, villagers see my ugly face and they chase me all the way to the border. Never got payed." Contemplating his memory for a second, he finished the story by saying, "I could have fought them. Made them pay be. Or killed them and took their money by force. Sula would've helped. Other mercs too." He finally looked squarely at Kormor.

"But you know, you can do whatever you want to a man's body. But you can't change their mind." A silence hung in the air, Kormor not sure of what to say. Suddenly the General spoke up again. "What do you know of the task we are performing?"

"Don't know too much, General." Kormor replied. "All I know is we're heading for this Shrine."

"Aye, the Shrine of the Seven," Gultar began. "In the days following the war between the humans and Formorrin, there was lawlessness that ruled the new kingdom, and, despite the newly pronounced unification of the islands, conflict still remained in the hearts of bandits and rebels. It was because of this that the Taisafirin began; so that the most common of men may still find protection outside of their kings." As he spoke of the history of his profession, Gultar's back straightened, and his eyes spoke of wisdom and pride.

"There was one group of bandits that was composed of a hundred or so men, who would camp near the villages of Sciadire and Shasur, and slowly sap them of their recourses, and, once they had dried them of all they could, would still destroy the village in the end. As they came upon another village, Seamuq, the villagers sought to escape the same fate that had befallen all the other villages, but, depleted of all their money, they could only offer food and housing to the Taisafirin. A veteran captain who had fought in the Great War, Almunqai, accepted the job, and went to gather his men, but could only find six others of both worthy skill and agreeable to the terms of employment. And yet, despite their small numbers, the Seven Taisafirin trained the village to fight, and destroyed the bandit army."

"Four of the Seven died in battle, and were buried on a hill overlooking the village. The other three were buried there after they had passed. Today, they serve as a beacon to what our profession should embody, and Taisafirin from around the country regularly make pilgrimages to the Shrine. Due to this storm, I would like to make sure that there is minimal damage to the Shrine, and to build a shelter protecting it."

Kormor simply listened as Gultar explained the history of the Shrine, once he was finished, Kormor was at first, silent, taking in the information. Clearly showing the Shrines deep importance to Gultar, to the Black Band as a whole and now to Kormor. "I...see." He said, almost speechless and a bit overwhelmed. "Then we best move with haste, General. We wouldn't want to tarnish the Black Band, and the Taisafirin."

Almost on cue, the wind started to pick up with haste, and the downpour began to fall harder. The group was coming upon a tavern on the side of the road, which, while seemingly undamaged, had obviously been abandoned in the wake of the coming storm. "Tomorrow, yes," Gultar said, "But tonight, we must rest!" He hurriedly made way for the tavern, as did the rest of the group, awkwardly forcing the ox into the building for the night.

The next day, weather was much like the day before, and, after a quick breakfast, the group hastily began marching with haste. By midday, they had made it to Seamuq, and the Shrine was clearly in sight. As they approached it, it became clear that the graves were relatively undamaged, as if some greater being had protected it.

The Shrine was made up of seven graves on the hill, each grave bearing a unique totem for each warrior. Small repairs were made to the totem, and the gear from the oxcart was unloaded. When the chest that was inside was opened, it was revealed to be filled with food, jewels, weapons and armor. The soldiers began placing them at various shrines and falling to their knees, where they closed their eyes and began muttering to themselves, seemingly in prayer. Gultar gave Seadne the highwayman's sword, who brought it to a totem that was a post covered in arrows, where the shepherd began to pray.

While five of the seven graves were in a single row, there were two graves in front of all the others. One of them was clearly the grave of the Captain, Almunqai, where Gultar had knelt in prayer, clutching to a Primordialist necklace around his neck. The other in front, Kormor found himself strangely drawn to. This one's totem was a statue of a strange creature, with a wolve's tail, ears, face, and front paws, but a ram's horns, back hooves, and woolen body. It sat upright, eyes seemingly glaring at Kormor.

Almost by impulse, and without hesitation, Kormor walked up to the strange totem, and slowly knelt down to ir, clasping his hands together as he engaged in silent prayer to the Totem. As he touched it, he suddenly felt his eyes shut and his mind go blank.

When his eyes once again opened, he was walking on a grassy field that seemed to go on forever. By his side, a wolf was walking, as if it were his own hound.

Kormor didn't question it, his mind seemingly at ease despite the strangeness of all this, he kept on aimlessly walking through the grassy fields alongside his new companion, no idea on his destination, he simply just moved ahead. After walking for a while, before them appeared a flock of sheep, passively grazing at the field. On the ground was a shepherd's crook, old and covered in notches. Kormor knelled down and picked up the crook, and turned his gaze upon the grazing sheep, once again, on impulse, Kormor walked up to the sheep, he and his wolf companion herding them until the sheep moved along with the pair as well, joining them on their aimless journey.

After what seemed like days of walking, the wolf looked up to Kormor, and in a low growl he said, "Do not blink, for the world you know may change in an instant" which was followed almost immediately by Kormor blinking. Suddenly, their journey was thrown into chaos, and the flock of sheep was being attacked by what seemed to be demons made of flame. The wolf was apparently gone, but now a ram was charging at the demons and keeping them at bay. It looked over to Kormor, and shouted out in the same voice as the wolf, "Fight not to stop change! Fight for it!"

Kormor charged in, using the crook as a makeshift weapon and swung it at one of the flame demons, the wooden stick somehow cutting through the flames, albeit the crook itself was slow catching flame, but remained intact, needless to say, Kormor kept on with his attack as the demons charged towards him, he and the ram happy to meet the creatures in pitched combat.

The ram thrust through several of the beasts, extinguishing their flames for good, Kormor continued to swing the crook as it, and Kormor, were both slowly being engulfed by the flames with every swing. Nearly all of the creatures had been vanished, Kormor taking one last swing as the he felled the beast, but the cost was dearly, Kormor was now engulfed in flame, his own screams shaking him out of this dream-like state as he yelped and fell on his back away from the Totem.

At Kormor's scream, Gultar shot to his feet and looked over to him. "What happened?" He asked, hand on the sword in his belt. He pointed at the strange totem, his arms shaking from the experience. "It drew me in...and I touched it and..." He paused. "I was walking through endless grass lands, there was a wolf.. then a ram, and fire demons, I fought them...and then I was consumed by flame.."

"Hm," Gultar grunted, nodding. "This is the shrine of Batjoch Wulfram." He walked over to it, carefully placing a hand on the totem. "He's considered the greatest hero of the Seven, apart from Almunqai." Turning back to Kormor, he continued. "You see, the other Taisafirin, they did not want Batjoch to come with them. You see, his mother was human. His father...a Grogar."

"He followed the six warriors still, and was abrasive, having lived a life of rejection, and proved to be of little use in training the peasants. But when the fighting began, he fought valiantly." He looked to the village before continuing. "On the last day of fighting, the Bandit Chief came atop this very hill with the last of his men, all armed with bows and arrows set ablaze. They sought to burn the village to the ground, and all the Seven were too cowardly to charge the Chief." He paused. "All except for Batjoch."

"The halfblooded-" He flinched. "Forgive me. The warrior charged up the hill, greatsword in hand, and by the time he reached the chief his body had been set ablaze. But still he charged, and, swinging his blade down and slicing the chief in half." He looked back to Kormor. "The beast of the Formorrin is the wolf. The beast of men is the ram. It is often said that a warrior of...your ancestry could only have the heart of half of one of these beasts. Batjoch proved he had the heart of both. And because of this, we call him Wulfram."

"Wulfram..." Kormor said, the fact one of the seven was a Halfbreed like him instilled a sense of pride in him, but at the same time, he still felt shaken and overwhelmed by this vision, it was a bit much to take in. With his own sheer determination, Kormor forced himself up with a wide grin on his face. "I'm all better, no worries." He said. "This was an...enlightening experience, I thank you for allowing me to escort you, General."

The rest of the group looked at Kormor with a mixture of suspicion and awe. Gultar nodded. In the time Kormor was having his vision, the shelter around the Shrine had already been built, and Gultar motioned for the group to move down to the village below, far less damaged than Svawad, where they would spend the night. As they moved down the hill, they didn't seem to notice a coat hanging on a branch. It was a mixture of fleece and fur, and overall a fine, fine coat. Not something someone would just leave out there, even with the storms.

Kormor paused as he took notice of the coat, to his confusion, no one seemed to take notice of it, he shrugged and walked over to take the coat for himself, better under his care then to be left at the storm's mercy, he folded it and held on to it as he caught up with his fellows.