Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Forest of the Umbrous Steppes (Open)

The Gully

It had been a brutish venture across the ruisian hinterlands, yet the wolvenborn held strong under the leadership of their general, at last the relief force had arrived from far Rilynath, approaching in such numbers and swiftness that even Marcus himself was impressed. He slumbered by the embers as the early hours of dawn broke through the hills and ravines, stirred by the excitement of his warhound whom surely woke the camp with his barks, calling all to attention. The bannerman sounded a horn as the men arose from slumber, gathering shield and spear, sweeping up their tents for yet another march. Marcus himself made a slow imposing strut across their ranks, issuing a nod to his lieutenants who looked to him for assurance in the march. These grizzled elite of the legion held fast and the day before's victory against the orcs had served to rouse their morale. Marcus turned his steel gaze upon the ridge, where he noted the presence of his adoptive nephews, the sons of his brother in arms, once Zaknayrr and he fought shield to shield, but then the duties of his bloodline drew him back to Rilynath's court and he was as faithful and a loyal a son of the Empire as he was good a king to his people. The twin banner symbolized this communion, this alliance. Witnessing the relief force from afar put a grin to The Wolf's features and he issued a subtle nod.

" I am indebted old friend, a man of the legion is always a man of the legion. " he added, referring to Zaknayrr.

The imperials marched to meet the Rilynath cohort, a well-equipped and well stocked army, and they greeted their brothers in arms with cheers and hails, 50 wolvenborn combined with the Rilynath force. Marcus with Thor at his side marched to the front column, he watched the two horses rush forth and saw his nephews dismount with a decided haste, a loud laugh left Marcus as he embraced the two, placing his hand on the shoulder of each, a glimmer of pride in his eye as he witnessed the scions of Rilynath grow into fine warrior, emblems of imperial service gilded into their pauldrons as military honors for their deeds across many campaigns.

" Veliai, Goro, I hope the two princes of Rilynath haven't been testing their fathers sanity.. hrmph... just when I was beginning to think I was the only warrior left in all of Ruis... your aid could not have come at a better time, I trust you are ready to bring honor to your kingdom and to your father, you come here this day not as soldiers or lieutenants but as conquerors and I shall personally relay to the Emperor this deed of honor, his gratitude will see many more imperial resources put into Rilynath's prosperity... rather empty isn't it, well... the battle is far from here boys, I trust you've sharpened your blades and polished your armors because it'll be tarnished by the end of it... just like old times. You remember my Thor don't you? it's been a few years for him too, you're not the only ones that have gotten stronger... you're no longer soldiers my lords, but commanders in your own right... your father did not send you on this campaign without foresight, without purpose... just as I do not place my trust in any other except those whom I know can get the task done. I've got 50 of my men here, out of the 80 we once were... "

where he greeted both Derhil and surprisingly, Loremaster Theros, a contemporary of Quintus and amongst the most learned scholars of the Imperial Grand Sanctum, Marcus found the thought entertaining that these scholar-diplomats were flocking to an active warzone. Each of the retinues were guided into a central tent, as an act of gratitude the Valradic legionaries made preparations for breakfast to cater to their guests after such a long march, once the army was well fed, the days work could begin. This gave the commanders some time to deliberate.

Quintus made the necessary arrangements laying out the maps and such before taking his place with Derhil and Theros, the table was cleared for Gorogoth, Veliai and Marcus with Thor's platform present beside Marcus's chair and his elk rib presented to him in a silver bowl.

" I am glad that Zaknayrr received my message in time, I can see your baggage train has all the necessary resources, a strategic necessity on my part dictated inducing floods to effectively cripple the Ruisian reserves and forward bases, while we managed to get rid of the issue in one single strike it has brought forth an anticipated issue, large parts of Ruis have been inundated, the lay of the land is now treacherous and unpredictable, old maps will yield little to us for old roads are now beneath the flows... we have the sufficient manpower to construct bridges and overcome obstacles where necessary but it will be a slow methodical march towards the capital... here "

Marcus directed the attention of Gorogoth and Veliai to a point on the map.

" Caerbryn, the capital, the seat of power... It is to seize Caerbryn that this campaign was made and for that reason Caerbryn must burn, a harsh policy indeed but we know well enough that for new growth to flourish, thorned branches must be set alight... I doubt we will face much resistance from the Ruisian army on our march beyond the inconvenience of a few resistant scoundrels... Spymatron Allaryon and her force of a hundred were operating within the Ruisian middenlands, forests mostly, plenty of cover... crippling the trade-routes and launching assassinations as well as conducting espionage operations... the flood supposedly brought that to a halt as reinforcing General Ferrus's siege took precedence... we could ill-afford an attack from the rear by the Ruisian mainland forces compromising the siege... I doubt a city like Caerbryn could be taken in a week despite the Emperor's wishful thinking... Ferrus and I both knew that and I acted accordingly... a tree without the roots to anchor itself would lose stability... it suffices to say I succeeded in my mission... but war is never a matter of expected outcomes but rather anticipated contingencies... we could have marched back right then... but I sent the brunt of my forces backwards to reinforce the siege... because I needed to ensure with my own eyes, that the border garrisons would not be a threat to our objectives... you can't leave matters of such importance in the hands of novices after all... ofcourse... that means I haven't heard from the other two generals in well over a few weeks now... but that is inconsequential, all that lies before us is the prospect of victory, of conquest... and by the spirit, my nephews, your names will be cast within the hall of heroes when we plant the banner in Caerbryn "

Marcus stood up, upon the table, his eyes furious with ambition, pouring the ceremonial wine into Veliai and Gorogoth's cups, before raising the goblet.

" Now is the hour of deliverance, Now we deliver the might of the Empire to their doors, Now the wolves descend ! Veliai and Gorogoth, my nephews, ready your men for war ! "

Marcus added, as he rose, before briefly being approached by Theros as the loremaster propositioned him with regards to Gorogoth's supposed " crimes ".

Marcus did not even bother to read the booklet, he grabbed it from Theros's hands and threw it in the fireplace giving a stern glance to Theros for such a question...

" Master Theros, when they propositioned me to have Prince Gorogoth answer within the council of commons, I took it as a joke, to preserve my honor Gorogoth gave himself to the guards and they kept him in a cell for a day... thereafter I personally burned the hall of tribunal in the settlement where he was to be tried and took my nephew amongst us, I made a statement then and I shall make it now... Gorogoth walks as a giant amongst wolves and so long as I live and breathe, upon my name as Wolf-Father, not a single one of my soldiers, not a single one of my legionaries and not a single man who has served the Empire under my vigil shall ever be reduced to the status of a criminal... they are my wolves and the laws of men do not apply to wolves, I took one eye each from the officials who dishonored Gorogoth in such a manner... do not ever bring to my attention such a thing again or dare to ask me whether I distrust them... I cast no doubt upon my nephews... and I would strike the gods if they passed judgment upon them.. "

It was evident that Marcus if anything admired Gorogoths mannerisms in combat, he was indeed a beast but never one that left the fold of reason, though... even Marcus was thankful that Veliai was present to watch over his brother, for Gorogoth was a warmachine to be reckoned when he was seized with rage. With that statement made Marcus nodded to Veliai and Gorogoth, they had preparations to make and armies to command. Marcus issued a low pitched whistle to signal Thor to come along, Marcus ensured that Zaknayrr would accommodate a very specific request.

A large cage was present within the fields with red curtains draped around it and the symbols of a golden gryphon upon it, obscuring what was within, a deafening screech sounded like the sound of an eagle amplified manyfold and it was at that point that the contents were made clear...

Invictus, Gryphon mount of Marcus



" Good Girl "

A warhorse would stand only at shoulder height of the creature, she was a beast as magnificent as she was deadly and one of only a handful the Empire had trained for war, whilst most gryphon-riders were in the employ of the Emperor and conducted their duties only at his command, Marcus took the initiative of himself, Invictus shared the bloodline and was trained in the mountains of Cornaeth, atop her Marcus had felled dragons and slain giants, and as this war escalated Marcus found it appropriate to bring forth his warmount. With the aid of Invictus he would be afforded a view of the battlefield most could only ever dream of. Few sights were quite as inspiring as The Wolf striding atop his immense war-gryphon yet that was the sight that greeted the soldiers of Rilynath and the chosen Wolvenborn as Marcus felt it was time for a battlespeech, the general unveiled his sword as the blade engulfed itself in flames.



Wolves of The Empire, Warriors, Battle-Brothers ! Neither hail nor snow, Neither oceans nor mountains, Neither deserts nor swamps can stand before the champions of order, ours is the fury and the flame, I stand before those who swore the martial oath upon the spirit, an oath to Valradios The Great, that we would go forth and bring victory, liberation and prosperity to all corners of the realm, no matter the foe, mortal or preternatural, from within this realm or beyond... beyond that wretched ravine, lie the riches of Caerbryn, to each man the glory of ten lifetimes promised by the Emperor, shall you then not raise the banners in Caerbryn? shall you not bring that flame with which we forged greatness to this realm once more ? let history beckon your names, let your legacies forever be honored and let naught stand in your path to victory... my brothers ! this day I ask the forgiveness of your spears and swords... for too long I have starved them... too long... and I shall starve them no more... for when you cross into that land once more, you shall write it's fate in fire and steel and from fire and steel shall we bring them order, peace and prosperity... as Valradios did for us, so to do we deliver unto them... let there be no compromise nor relent, make ready !... for we march to war !!!

Caerbryn Delenda Est - Caerbryn Must Burn

Legio Aeterna Victrix ! Legio Aeterna Victrix ! Legio Aeterna Victrix ! Legio Aeterna Victrix !

The renewed armies made ready, legionaries issuing the imperial warchant, preparations made to lay bridges and make preparations, formations adjusted, Marcus's cohort would make its way to Caerbryn in due time... and there would be hell to pay

---

The Forest

The elves were ever an enigmatic sort and their pleasant mannerisms and elegance tended to rouse many into a false sense of security, but it was likely better for them that Odo hadn't the full grasp of what Allaryon was capable of and had done. Her methods were decidedly less honorable than her counterparts, subterfuge, assassination, poisonings, paranoia and discord. One could argue, that in the grand scheme of things these methods ensured similar results at a much lower cost than say what would happen if an army were to battle nevertheless, it most definitely earned both the ire and fear of her enemy, and ultimately fear too coalesced into anger. As an elf she had a view of things removed from the human perspective and the way she found it fit to toy with their emotions was also unnerving, yet strangely she didn't seem to take any pleasure in the cruel act viewing it as a pragmatic necessity.

Tactics in the manner of kidnapping Ruisian soldiers in the night, only to show the gruesome results to their contemporaries a few days later, or pitting two rival lords against each other only for them to realize at a ruse and then be poisoned at a seemingly very secure fist, similarly courting nobles within Concobar's court that were of a more fickle loyalty and certainly saw a future for themselves with this new escalation, needless to say there were always rivalries in the nobility. Ruis's political structure lended itself to such a thing all the same, there were many ways to convince someone to do your bidding, kidnapping their wife and child was usually a sure bet, likewise it made a bold statement to the Ruisians that they were not safe beyond their walls nevertheless...

The hungering knives were a small and extremely specialized force, and as their names suggested, a knife was best used subtly and when it was least expected, that had been their modus operandi. It was Allaryon's understanding that Marcus, whom she thought of having a propensity for war would entertain pitched battles at the rear, instead the man practically flooded half of Ruis in a move that Allaryon found rather foolish and impulsive but then again perhaps that was her elven sense of superiority playing into things. Imperial diplomats often said of the elves that they were like a knife laced with honey, a cutting edge underlied the sweet taste not that the Orc noticed it, much every human had the same view of them... they were fickle and capricious... and given to rather heinous and unpredictable acts that often came without explanation...

The Empire had waged several wars against the elves until the necessary "compromise" was achieved, though with so many elves wedding into Imperial royal families one couldn't help but wonder whether it was merely a plan drawn out, after all they now had royal claim... and an elf was very long lived hence their ambitions were unimpeded by the urgency caused by the shortness of human lives, nevertheless Allaryon for her part was a venerated Spymatron, as with the other generals, though she clearly didn't have the same spotlight as the other two for good reason... the woman had likely prevented countless wars and facilitated proper inclusion during her tenure... after all... most her handiwork was inevitably dismissed as "tragic accidents or acts of divine retribution".

Odo had judged right that there was in Allaryon a sort of altruism and morality, but it was of an elven standard if anything their kind was most wisened to the greater threat of the supernatural, whether she acted out of the good of her heart or merely because the threat took precedence was a question to which there would be no answers, and as many had learned the hard way, it was better to follow the Spymatron's directives than question her. Though it may have seemed inconsequential, Allaryon was singlehandedly instrumental to this invasion, she'd ensured everything was in place, every "accident" and "inconvenience" leading up to these events... one could even argue she was the mastermind behind the operation... she didn't care nor seek the honor or glory that the generals did, the hunter had loosed the arrow and now the hounds were intended to finish the job.

Fact of the matter was, she trusted Odo, she trusted him because he was right and these humans had no idea what was coming for them

Allaryon strode past Odo, patting him on the shoulder ever so often, just to relay to him his surroundings and that he was still in the march, the imperial armor certainly suited the orc better than most and she was almost curious what he'd think of Imperial orcs, the orcs of Valradia were all but absorbed by the Empire and lived on their tribal reserves within mountains and amidst settlements, they were renowned smiths but most importantly invaluable auxiliaries, orcish shieldbreakers were a famed auxiliary force within the Empire however, they were sparingly used since an orcish warforce couldn't be relied on to have the same cohesion or order a conventional military force would... shieldbreakers specialized in breaking stalemates. There was a regiment of them in the employ of Ferrus, and she wondered if a few survived... since they were invariably the first to charge... perhaps Odo would meet another one of his kindred from a continent over, he was a paler shade of olive and more lightly built in contrast but that might have been his age, the tusks too a bit shorter than the Valradic variety... Allaryon also thought the same of any elves, but she doubted any she would find here would still have loyalties to Aeldaron or the Valradic mainland... perhaps an exodite or two... thus far it had been only humans.

Before long the march was halted by a guard beckoning the marching force from above a tower, the fact he had not fired yet made it obvious they knew Allaryon had their hostages... nevertheless the situation quickly became a stalemate, and the Spymatron was not one to lag behind, she would lead them out of this... the plan was to make their way towards the highlands, unbeknownst to them they were on the same course as Marcus's march and would invariably connect to his forces if nothing else transpired.

Allaryon gazed up the tower with an unimpressed expression.

" You're quite foolish if you think my archers can't pick you out of that tower boy, it is ill-conceived and uncouth to address a noblewoman as such, I demand the captain of your force be sent forward... we have a reasonable parlay to be made with you lot, believe us, it is a matter of dire urgency that has caused this incidence to conspire... I'd be rather surprised if you hadn't grasped it to some degree... after all, you were supposed to have been reinforced 3 days ago were you not ? I presume you're thinking its just another Valradic ploy, I was thinking that too until one of your own suggested otherwise, we have this... orc... amongst our ranks... a ruisian... I believe it is important for you to hear what he has to say... there must be at least a few of you who have already borne witness to your wives, daughters, sons, or mothers amongst the ranks of our hostages... we may yet be able to assure their safety and in return we have a relatively meagre request to be made... I'll give you a while to consider and should you find that insufficient then you will leave me little choice but to make your consideration.... a little less deliberate... I leave this choice in your hands Ruisian... it is the only instance of mercy you'll receive from a Valradian, I wouldn't squander it purposelessly if I were you... consider your next move... carefully. "

Needless to say, a display of sorcery was in order to make sure the point was made, Allaryon stood before a row of trees and channeled her powers, irises turning white as the shockwave of a deafening screech echoed out, if one blinked they'd miss it but an entire cone of trees had been flattened by a powerful banshee cry. Allaryon breathed heavily after, it was evident these powers took a toll and weren't to be used without discretion, her nose bled some which she quickly wiped away... it should have served as enough of a warning to the Ruisians... in truth, Allaryon wanted to avoid any more bloodshed... she'd rather keep her own... much as she was sure the Ruisians would keep theirs.

She issued a sigh and looked back to Odo, for a moment there was doubt, this seemed like madness what she was doing but in his defiant visage, the hermit now stood, for all that he was, an act of courage that was inspiring... dare she say, saintly... no... the strands of fate had lead her here, it was what the mother goddess intended, this had to be done... the evil had to be purged, once and for all, for the sake of all realms

---

Caerbryn Battlegrounds

Galvan listened intently to Prince Luos and denoted first that rather than apprehension or aggression, the prince surprisingly embraced this new environment dare he say there were glimmers of admiration in what he saw and this was certainly understandable from the perspective of a young man caged in the court now finding themselves upon the precipice of glory, no doubt despite his fears, the promise of building reputation and legacy would have enticed the young prince, it almost seemed young Lugh was eager to prove himself to his elders. He did not waste time deliberating either, rather as Galvan invited him to plan for the night ahead Lugh dove right into the appropriate stratagem. Galvan raised a slight brow at his last suggestion, it seemed the prince was acting out of initiative rather than his fathers approval yet for some reason Galvan thought it prudent to entertain Lugh's ideation.

Part of the plan, certainly was to envigorate a sense of imperial awe in the prince, in a good way, after all his mind would no doubt entertain thoughts of these foreigners way of life and who they were and this curiosity could be leveraged to the Empire's advantage, Galvan began life as a craftsman compared to his military contemporaries and he gained office by virtue of being a skilled orator and an otherwise knowledgeable individual, he scavenged ancient war designs from ancient ruins in a past life but eventually found his way into the Empire, needless to say he stuck around, it was a worthwhile bargain and as such, Galvan was sure that the Prince could be convinced of such a bargain, he was young, he was ambitious and he wanted change was what the Siegemaster could garner from their immediate conversation.

He remembered conversing in detail with Allaryon with regards to the softer touch of conquest, it was a concept that the Emperor himself was rather blinded to but then again in the vastness of the Empire, the Emperor was merely a figurehead that voiced decisions for which the groundwork was laid by its vast political infrastructure. It was obvious why Valradia needed wars, the burgeoning mass of such a giant needed directive, in a sense being condemned to find enemies lest that focus be turned to its own populace. And on Allaryon's part that was seemingly the plan all along, afterall even when all of this was done, half the country lay in ruin... and to remediate all of that would take time, not to mention the inevitable state of famine and scarceness that would follow and in such a state, the approach towards a helping hand was made easier. Lugh likely concerned himself with the microcosm, but in truth the Empire was fighting a hundred wars on a hundred borders, against foes not necessarily as noble as the Ruisians had proven.

Nevertheless, the Ruisians to their credit had proven a most adamantine foe, but even they were not blinded to the sensibilities. Galvan hoped well for the future, Ferrus would likely speak of this to their council and he was sure that there was a future to be had where the Empire and Ruis marched hand in hand... if not as one, this conflict was far from conclusion however, it was too soon to say, for now what mattered was Lugh's directives. Galvan nodded and issued a grin.

" A contingent of horsemen offering the necessary mobility to harass and corrale the enemy mass is most appreciated your highness, they will falter before such a well coordinated mass, as for our own troops, whilst the wolvenborn form our vanguard it is the rams that are left vulnerable, most our fighting forces were exhausted in the early days of this unfortunate conflict and we are left mostly with engineers and specialists, however if they are allowed to direct their siege engines upon the enemy it will give us quite an immense advantage... we will be able to combine the force projection of the valradic legion with the defensive mastery of the Ruisians, we will be able to leverage our specialists such as your riders and our syphonators in a manner that any renewed assault can be broken... the wolvenborn have their own lieutenants, I shall coordinate command on our end and if you take charge of the Ruisian contingent... then I shall say that the odds are ever in our favor "

Galvan spoke with a tone that was exceedingly calm and reassuring, yet upon his features a hopeful expression that turned to a more serious one.

" There remains the matter of making the decision my Prince, one that is not ours to make, it is you who shall allow us to enter into Caerbryn in whatever capacity you deem fit, but I shall repeat the more integrated we are into the city's infrastructure, the better we can conduct ourselves. Understandably, thus far there has been no reason to give us quarter or trust, but by your act you would have accomplished a deed that neither Ruisian nor Valradic could forget... on my part I think it will make for some cessation of hostility within our armies... they need to see themselves fighting as one if we are to make ground. These decisions will be yours to make as you are the one that stands amongst us on behalf of your forces and none other "

Galvan produced a quill and a piece of parchment to accommodate Lugh's request, offering him a table and nodding to the servants to bring the Prince some sustenance as he would decide what to put into said letter.

---

Caerbryn Palace

As an enthusiast of the siege, witnessing the infrastructure and lay of cities never really ceased to amaze Ferrus, Caerbryn was opulent and in its layers it told a story, no one quarter quite like the other and likely constructed and expanded over centuries, truly a worthy seat of power and most importantly the intricacies in which its defences were laid, the subtleties that Ferrus's praetorians wouldn't notice but did not escape his gaze. He noticed the depth of the works and the organization of trade, everything seemed centered here it was a like a beating heart, essentially giving life and structure to this land. Ferrus ascended the steps, noting how they were carved... this likely was a mountain at some point which explained how they had sourced all this material so far inland and how they'd survived over the centuries.

News of the war seemed almost to elude the public, yet certainly some refugee groups were seen being resettled and resettled well at that, the inner depths of this great city hadn't even been scalded or bore any signs of ruin. It brought a smile to Ferrus when he saw one of the released prisoners embracing what were presumably his wife and daughter, such things certainly made a man reconsider war in all its terrible and vicious form, yet at the same time Ferrus gained an admiration for these people, they were not the savages they had been made to be, and though this was no imperial city, it was certainly one of the most splendorous ones he had seen and Ferrus wondered... how many times he had seen the ruins of cities and now he wished he saw what they once were as well.

The march was brought to conclusion as the general and his retinue entered the grand court of that opulent palace that the Emperor himself would not object to being housed in. All the others paled in contrast to Concobar, high and proud, old and wise, seated upon an ancient throne that certainly his ancestors and contemporaries had shared. Ferrus disregarded any looks, and walked forth to the base of the steps before Concobar, there was silence between the two men as they crossed gazes, unyielding in a way before finally, Ferrus took a knee, he would not insult Concobar's honor before his inferiors and the High King was given his due respect, Ferrus did not speak when the King spoke and he spoke well, his oration was brief yet meaningful it was evident all in that court restrained themselves when speaking to them but there were also curious gazes, ambitious gazes... eyes that saw opportunity... it seemed so far away from the Empire, even this place was plagued by court intrigue more as a consequence of human nature than anything else and then at last... Ferrus was granted audience.

The General stood, and faced not the King first but the thousand strong court and then the echo of his voice followed.

" By the grace of his most high majesty, the great king Konkovares, I have been granted audience in this most esteemed court, an opportunity that I shall not take lightly. When we came to Caerbryn, we expected barbarians and instead we found a proud, noble and honorable people whose history is one of courage and defiance and whom embody all the best attributes which has allowed us humans to ascend as the champions of order within this realm. It was not I nor Concobar that made arrangements for us to see reason, but rather an act of fortuitous divinity, an intervention decreed necessary by fate and what we as men could not at first come to terms to, for all in the grand scheme must occur for the greater good. It must come as no surprise to you that both our camp and yours find ourselves in dire straits, as I understand, this is a threat that your forefathers had faced and succeeded against but at a grievous cost... a cost whose symbols are more evident beyond these walls than within. It was, perhaps, for a time that we were eluded to this sensibility and waged war against one another something that would only advantage a third more nefarious agenda no doubt. "

The general paused for effect before witnessing all in the court,

" I assure you what I am about to say next is said with conviction not madness, Join Us. join us on your own terms, join us for the greater good, for the good of the Empire and for the good of Ruis, our crimson banners betray you for beneath this banner lies a mosaic of peoples and nations, a unity which is to the benefit of all and the detriment of none but one that we have often had to achieve by force of arms rather than reason, as that is the circumstance of the law of men, we respond first to might and later to reason lest one be possessed of as sagacious and prudent a leader as your own. You speak amongst yourselves now that I have the audacity to have said something like this at a time such as now, but I ask, if not now then when ? the legion is not the first to have brought arms to your gates but I beckon you, let it be the last. I shall now speak of the Empire which I hail from so that you honored lords who sit upon your benches be assured of my conviction, I belong to an Empire that stretches betwixt four great seas, An Empire which holds a thousand such cities such as Caerbryn, An Empire in which riches are to be found and fortunes to be made, many of the sort you have never witnessed before in these lands, I belong to an Empire where all men are free or have the certainty of earning their freedom, a place of law, of justice, of reason, of learning, of prosperity. Can you not think to yourself now and say, our progeny would have thanked us for an alliance as great as this, would they not bear witness to the aqueducts we will construct in your countryside that shall feed your fields for millennia? will they not bear witness to the likenesses of you crafted by our master smiths to honor this deed? will they not bear witness to heights of splendor and grandiosity that extend beyond the gates of Caerbryn? I can envision such a day, where our progeny will remember these days as not of strife and war but of the formation of a great alliance that will stretch across time, Ruisians will have explored the furthest corners of this realm and bring back the most exotic of riches... you will prosper, you will progress and none shall ever dare desecrate your borders again for a thousand armies stand at the ready to fight beside your own and together, we shall bring humanity towards new heights... some amongst yourselves must say now, but how can we become imperial after all this has conspired ?... to that I shall say bear witness to the crimson color of our banners... is it not the same crimson that flows through your veins?... we are not a nation... we are the unifiers of all humanity... and we invite you as brothers in arms, to help us realize the vision Valradios The Great had for the realms... join us as Imperials, join us as Ruisians, join us as Humans... and together we shall overcome adversity and ascend to the stars ! "

Ferrus paused then, making a final sweep of the room with his gaze.

" You ask yourselves, but how could we make so great a compromise? how could we justify such a thing? "

He then gestured to Concobar upon his throne

" I shall say, what more could we ask of you that you have not already given to us? have you not already made the ultimate sacrifice, the ultimate gesture of trust?, I, Ferrus Martel, am but one general amongst hundreds... yet to Great Concobar, there is but one heir. Together we are stronger, as iron sharpens iron so too shall Ruis embolden the Empire... there is more to be gained than to be lost... and when this instance is concluded, I shall hope that we in the Empire shall learn to call the warriors of Ruis, our brothers. "

He added, bowing to Concobar and taking his leave.

Caerbryn Battlegrounds
Valradian Siege Camp

The Valradic Siege Camp


" I say we leave him for dead, toss him with the rest and set the burning pits alight, should keep us warm through the night all the same " stated one of the guards, more entertained by the strangers desperate situation than anything in a morbid kind of manner. The officer's expression was stilled as he considered his options, it was evident that this stranger had levied a moral impasse upon the officer. He begrudgingly relented albeit with an audible sigh, looking back first at the guard " It is not your place to say Vigilator. " he added reprimanding the subordinate and issuing a stern nod, as the other departed to tend to his duties.

" I grant you this, for sheer measure of the fact you held your own against those things that came for us in the night, I respect this fortitude... do not mistake this for mercy or gratitude, it is a debt, one which shall be paid for with service because if anything it is evident you can fight. Apothecary ! help this man into a tent and tend to his wounds by my order, Vigilator ! have some guards stationed outside this tent, I'd like to make proper inquiry of our guest once his wounds have been mended. "

Doubt plagued the Archate's gaze as he made this decision, it would either be one that he would come to supremely regret or a gamble that made for suitable returns. He could not say he was not impressed and moreso rather aghast with regards to how this stranger managed to stay alive, if anything he'd rather not have the stranger join the ranks of the undead, he was better off fighting for the legion, the Archate garnered it would be a suitable barter given the circumstances, moreso than his service... the Archate was concerned with who the man was, where his loyalties lay and what he could offer. Though first thing was first, he nodded to his guards who seized the stranger, and tore that tabard off him, he was in a legion camp now, the appropriate regalia were not a choice they were mandated. Thereafter he was helped to the Apothecary's tent.

Surely enough a few hours passed into the gruelling process of mending his wounds, the apothecary's tent was a site no legionary truly wished to see, a morose sight of amputated limbs laid in buckets and blood soaked bandages, as well as a plate full of extracted arrow heads and splinters, racks and rows of medicinal tinctures, potions and pellets. Bed rolls were laid upon the ground, and most the men within drunk themselves into unconsciousness so as to not face the pain, disfigured and cauterized, many crippled, those fit to fight were shaken all the same. The dim light of a candle evident as a spectacled apothecary made their notes upon parchment, in a manner eerily non-chalant and unphased by their work, blood splattered all over the apron.

" Ah, Archate.. good.. you're here... about my latest patient, it's rather remarkable how this specimen managed to survive their wounds, the ruisians make use of particularly vicious barbed arrow heads, they were shot from crossbows that found their way through armor, I essentially had to flay his back owing to the depth of the wounds and extract each arrowhead individually... he heals with remarkable vigor from such grievous wounds, a mere hour or so into placing the stitches they had already begun to cure... no ordinary man would carry that much sanguine humor either, a truly copious amount of blood was spilled... he wavered in his consciousness a few times but application of the appropriate media was able to sustain him... the neck wound had to be cauterized and I've sealed it with a patch of false-skin bandage that should blend in under all is healed beneath... how he held up despite that sort of pain eludes me.... in all my years I have not seen such a display of fortitude... and this worries me... I advise you to exercise caution Archate... all may not be as it seems, I've placed some spell-wards just in case. "

The archate nodded entering the tent and taking a seat beside the resting stranger, he was offered a suitable measure of rations all the same to restore vitality after such an extensive procedure. The Archate issued a stern gaze, he had questions to be answered.

" Who are you ? what do they call you ? and what in the name of the spirit made you decide to come here of all places ?... you were wearing a Ruisian tabard were you not ? did you fight for them or was it a ruse ?... you offered me a valradic salute back there, know that it was likely the one factor which made me swerve my decision in your favor... I've held up my end of the deal, I believe now its time for you to explain yourself. I need some assurances if you are to fight with us, the last thing we need right now is turncoats and scavengers looking for a way out. "

He added arms crossed, awaiting answers when the stranger was roused.

Caerbryn Battlegrounds
Valradian Siege Camp

Valradic Siege Camp

The archate was perplexed to say the least, an eerie song was uttered by this individual in a place where most made utterances of pain and dread, he seemed all but ready and rather comforted by the leisure of this hospice tent, as if it was some sort of temporary respite from a life of struggle. The archate on his part was divided upon what to make of this " Falche " for he was part warrior, part madman, part traitor and part sage... a combination that wouldn't be found in any other story or bards tale. Yet for all this, Falche conducted himself wisely, his oration was not brash nor boastful and it seemed every word of speech was carefully selected to guide him towards a certain end. Could the Archate lend his trust ? well, if the man was willing to lend his sword in a time so dire then it was worth entertaining nevertheless, it mandated a trial and no doubt Falche would be put to the frontlines to redeem himself and prove his worth to the Archate. As The Crow spoke, the Archate gestured for him to speak slower and quieter for the tent barely afforded any protection from prying ears, it was very obvious that this intervention of the Archate went beyond standard protocol.

" Your words only lead me to more questions ? what am I to make of you that you have lended me such information ?... you served the Empire ? and now you fight for the Ruisians ?... It would make sense as much, they've got capable elites but their levy are a joke... I suspected they'd have resorted to mercenaries sooner or later and my suspicions have been affirmed... it stands to reason that it doesn't really matter what side you fight on for now Falche... If you served as you said you did, then you understand well enough what is to be done with traitors... but that part of your history stays with me... I think your tale and likely your reasons merit a second chance... so that you remember that the Empire does not abandon those who toil with... what we may call... a temporary lapse in conviction... I command these soldiers, I know what goes on in their minds... I won't ask why you did what you had to do... but that you see to it that mistakes of such a nature are not repeated. "



Archate Hadrian Erebor

" My name is Hadrian, a name that shall always be preceded by the words Archate when uttered by you, and I will take charge of you. Once you are rested report to the commons so I can assign you to a decanium and you can get yourself some proper armor... you understand that for the first night you'll be assigned to a decimary charge... which mean you will be the first line... if you survive that'll be proof alone that you're worthy and we can discuss the matter of what to do further with this arrangement, and that may include the negotiation of... assigning you a mule and some supplies to allow you to leave if you so wish, you don't have to fight here if you don't want to... but it presents a chance to absolve yourself... after all you know well enough that eventually the truth has a way of circling back, especially when the Empire's eyes are concerned... I doubt anyone could make a case for your imprisonment when you had a seal of absolution granted by an imperial officer. I'd like you to think of what I'm offering here as more of a trade than a punishment... you can cease the formalities in front of me, I know a mercenary's loyalties and honor are fickle things... I expect you to fight well Falche and in due time, the Empire shall compensate you enough for you to make your way further... I hope this is acceptable to you ? "

The archate nodded and offered a Valradic salute to the man.

" Once a legionary, always a legionary... only in death does duty end, I know not what the future holds for you falche but consider your service here a worthwhile penance one that will buy you sufficient peace to make a future for yourself once this is done. For your sake and mine I hope I am clear, I won't impede on your rest any further soldier, your duties will resume once you can stand yourself on two legs and swing a sword. "

With that the Archate arose and marched himself outside the tent, it was evident the man had many matters to attend to but now he at least had some semblance of who this character was, he still didn't trust the man, moreso one who could so non-chalantly declare betrayal but he could see a sense of conviction and guilt in his eyes and it was only right by the deus that he should be afforded penance, the archate himself wasn't sure why he did what he did there, it went against sensibilities, but these were strange times... perhaps some part of him hoped that in this act of justice, should he fall, he would be able to account himself to the spirit as a just and righteous man.

The only thing that was evident was this, Falche was afforded his opportunity, on terms that were not binding and from here on he could make his way onwards, without the threat of reprisal. But all this rested on a daunting trial that awaited him in the night.

Caerbryn Battlegrounds
Valradian Siege Camp

Valradic Siege Camp

As the words were sounded, the officer lifted his gaze from a parchment held between his thumb and index, offering a stern glance upwards to acknowledge the newfound recruit with a slow nod. With Falche were assembled nine others and from the expressions on their faces and their general appearance it was evident that these men did not represent what should have been the ideal valradic legionary. It felt more like an execution line than an assembly, nevertheless they fared better than their contemporaries and in his wisdom, Hadrian made sure that the bucket of severed heads from this morning's executions were made to be in clear view of these men, a lofty man dressed in lighter armor, with an assortment of iron tools strapped to his belt, wielding a maul in one hand and in the other ? well there was no other, rather a menacing looking wooden stub from which protruded iron spikes. This man was clearly the quartermaster, elderly though capable and always within earshot of the archate as he tended to the tools, wares and equipment of his contemporary... all requisitions, repairs and requests went through this officer and to add a layer of grimness to what was already a rather tense situation he paused to pick up the bucket of heads and toss them over to the war-mastiffs that patrolled the tents at night, large scarred beasts with black and brindle fur, ears cropped, blood rusted spikes protruding from their collars as they were held back by chains, even legionaries gave them a wide berth as they were known to have a rather unsavory disposition only the beast master could corrale them, they descended upon their offering and should any have dared look on, the sight of skulls being crushed in carnassial jaws would never be forgotten, Hadrian found it necessary to expose them to this, in order to ensure they ensured the gravity of their situation and the weight of the consequences they were spared from.

" Last night, a warrior named Publius Korhal, a man whom called you brother and a legionary exemplar, stood atop a hill overlooking the mass... like you he could have chosen to flee, but as your officer he gave the ultimate sacrifice, in that moment had you not presumed that fortune was lost upon you and acted as cravens perhaps things would have turned out differently. To be a citizen of the empire is a privilege, to be a legionary is to understand the burden of that privilege... "

He slowly swerved his head over to Falche, and then back to the others.

" Cowardice lies in the act, any man who serves or has served swears an oath, an oath of his life for the Empire, why is it then that when you swore that oath upon your honors that you stand before me today, you would be wrong to presume that it is your survival that offends me, no... what brought you here are your actions, actions that were in no way different from the men who were fed to the dogs before you, yet as fate saw fit, I was made your archate... our law has but one outcome for treason and treachery... you are all acquainted with this, but these are dire and difficult times... therefore you have been offered a chance to atone yourselves so that you may be deemed honorable once more... and should you fail, then may your souls be damned to the seven hells to suffer a fate worse than these men fed to the dogs for all eternity... Quartermaster, lend them their tools "

The quartermaster pried open a box of torches as the archates assistance affixed a small map to a board displayed in front of each man.

" Our forces will be stationed towards the wall, the fighting last night taught us many important lessons, for one these creatures feel neither pain nor are they hindered by wounds that would be grievous to others... only through severing the head, bludgeoning or incineration do we have a hope of stopping these creatures... for this purpose we have decided to switch our strategy from pitched battle to utilizing missile volleys so we can set alight large droves of these creatures... this shall be your station "

He added whipping a cane upon the board that clearly showed the men were to be stationed on the outskirts far into the frontlines.

" You will be given two barrels of fulminant pitch, your first task during the closing hours of the day will be to make the march into the far outskirts beyond our battlelines, this is where engagements occurred but our forces were unable to burn any corpses or gain tangible ground, hence these positions were abandoned during the night and form the forward zone, during the day these can still be seen from the battlements of the ruisian positions, to which our forces intend to migrate... this has no bearing on your task, you will begin spreading the liquamen in this area, ideally where the corpses are and then proceed to burn them... this will take around one of the barrels, as for the other barrel... you will spread its contents upon the ground as you make your way back to here "

He added whipping the cane to one of the abandoned outpost towers in that area.

" When the cowl of darkness is upon us, you will signal our battlelines with your torches and through burning patches of pitch to signal where to fire our volleys...flaming arrows and projectiles will be loosed with the intended effect of creating areas of flame either impassable or destructive to the undead. You will stay there the night and report back in the morning. This is a mission that shall assist our efforts but is in no way crucial to them... but for you this is a chance at redemption, so you will either come back heroes or you will not come back at all "

His gaze then returned to Falche, issuing a sigh before a scowl gripped his features.

" Quartermaster, find this man some proper wares... I hope you will not mind the corpse stench and tarnish, evidently those tasked with stripping the armor off the slain had great disdain for the task, I'm sure you'll find something to your fitting... take a weapon or two if you'd please... a gladius makes up for in effect what it lacks for in range, else I advise something crude and efficient that will certainly cripple the foe if not dispatch them outright... "

The quartermaster placed an hour-candle upon the quartermaster's desk and set it alight.

" You men have until this candle goes out to make any preparations, rations have been provided for you, ready your gear, sharpen your blades, take anything else you may need and then make your way. I do not want to see a trace of you until the morrow, do not return to this camp if you falter in your task... that is the final mercy I would afford you... for the foul undead will have none "

---

Ruisian Hinterlands - Forest Border

At long last, Marcus had gained the coveted momentum he required to proceed onto Caerbryn, despite this newfound vigor, Marcus wisely decided to proceed with caution. This would have been the border of the Ruisian forest, but now it was more akin to a swamp in light of the glacial floods, despite this the sufficient manpower and resources afforded to the replenished army allowed them to navigate their way through with due haste. In a rare admittance, Marcus was thankful to have not one but two loremasters present, their knowledge of terrain and navigation proved invaluable in allowing the armies to traverse the now treacherous landscape. Marcus estimated that by the morrow, they'd be entering into the forest proper and he debated his options.

He sat by himself in his tent, lit by lantern light. The drow emissaries within the Rilynath army afforded Marcus an added modicum of peace and there was specific reason as to why he requested Drow mercenaries... their proficiency in low-light and tight quarters, simply put, with such a force on their side they would have a significant advantage fighting under the cover of darkness. Levies and most defenses depended to a significant degree upon the use of missile weapons and projectiles and under darkness it would prove a significant challenge to utilize these effectively. A similar advantage applied in a defensive context, the darkness did not impede a drow's vision nor did anything escape their keen hearing, making camp within forests always discomforted Marcus due to his earliest campaigns against barbarian confederations, he had learned the hard way how the enemy could use such cover to their advantage... it was a contingency that was well considered and planned for.

Nevertheless, Marcus's mind was plagued by several considerations, like many branching paths into darkness where only one could lead to the desired destination. Every hour since his reinforcements had arrived, Marcus was struck by a new consideration, a new course of action and another plan. Rightfully so, he wasn't gambling with his own legion anymore, rather his honor was at stake conducting the armies afforded to him by Zaknayrr, and more importantly, the well-being of Zaknayrr's sons alas, tomorrow was promised to no man and whilst he had little regard for himself, Marcus was circumstantially considerate of others, as he scrawled battleplan drafts upon parchment amidst rounds of smoking his pipe in the late hours, he felt a nudge upon his lap.

T'was the warhound, and as if by instinct, Marcus's free hand found itself caressing between Thor's ears. A slow smile came upon his features and the distraction from his work was quite welcome, he looked into Thor's eyes as Thor looked into his and there was a sort of deep wordless communication between the two, his hands moved to cup Thor's jowls affectionately giving the hounds neck a slow circular stroke.

" Tired of toying with Invictus already? I'd have thought she'd keep you busy for longer given you two are inseparable... hrmph... I know why you're here... I'll be fine... yes... yes... I know I haven't eaten... alright, if you insist "

He added indulging in the food upon his table, he had a habit of eating quickly given the military urgency.

" Hrm... Rothe Buffalo... the mushrooms give the flesh a delectable taste... I expected Zaknayrr to send in good rations but this... its practically palace fair and this... how fortuitous... a Del-Hidori Peach, they give Del-Hidori fruit as wedding gifts in Rilynath you know... delicious and nectar laden... I certainly needed that... thank you Thor "

He added moving to the larger chair with the tent and patting on it for Thor to join, embracing the hound within his arms as if he was still a pup. Marc's hands stroked in his fur but his eyes seized the flame of the candle, his expression grew still, and then he looked back into Thor's eyes, finding the words.

" Caerbryn Must Burn, my every waking hour it haunts me Thor, as if some deep part of the conscience compels me without rest or relent, the men think I do not tire or falter, but this is not the truth. Hrm... I am tired... this has a way of catching up with a man... but ofcourse, that is only the futility of our mortal forms, the soul and spirit are what give us purpose... each day I have a thousand debates within the confines of my mind and each day it concludes with this; Caerbryn Delenda Est. A cruel thing to say, but law and order are bought at the behest of hegemonies, and though we may seem the tyrant this day, yesterday the peasant was cursing his lords, it is assured. When I utter these words, none amongst the soldiers dares to ask why? as they should, but I ask this of myself several times. Thor... my profession might have to do with war, but to make it my obsession was by my own doing... I think its a compulsion no one but myself could truly understand... no... no... I merely bicker these words owing to the burden of the campaign... there is something greater that will come from this... I am sure of it... I believe it... I have seen it... I have seen in my dreams the crimson banners hoisted upon their walls and within their capital, I have seen an age of prosperity and greatness for those that dwell here... It must be done"

Ruisian Hinterlands
Wolvenborn Camp

Ruisian Hinterlands
Wolvenborn Camp

The Forest

Caerbryn Castle

Caerbryn Battlegrounds

???

___

Ruisian Hinterlands
Wolvenborn Camp

Caerbryn Castle

For a few moments Ferrus thought it best to distract himself from the rigors of warfare, he indulged those locals whom would entertain him and sampled of the local fare, their drink was a fair bit harsher than imperial wine but it quickly grew on ones palate Ferrus found it necessary to stop just shy of inebriation. He was also quite fond of the fresh apples that grew here, they were quite large and full and had a good bite to them, unlike the small mealy fruit that made its way into imperial markets from the northeast. It seems the speech had worn on him, whether by fatigue or otherwise he found it necessary to rest his powerful voice. An expression of concern momentarily rested upon his brow as he glanced at the palace walls, there was motion in the distance but from this altitude and distance they appeared only as small and insignificant blurs in the far distance, he imagined the concern he felt for his men and captains was a fraction of what Concobar felt for the well-being of his son. He was left in good hands, but nothing in this campaign had gone as usual and Ferrus was just shy of admitting that the gods had some vendetta against him, what else at this point was left to the imagination, even the disciplined imperial mind began to wither under such inexplicable and horrendous circumstances that could only be explained by divine fury, the legionnaries were perhaps fortunate in this regard that their minds were steeled against the tribulations of thought through practiced routine. The desperation and instinct to survive the night before had held together morale, the formations held though even Ferrus knew that it was a tense predicament that could've gone either way, he shook his head, dismissing such thoughts as a courtier issued his name... Ah, he was expecting it, Concobar's summons.

The praetorians readied themselves before Ferrus did though he dismissed them with a wave of his hand, no courts here, not anymore, now he'd speak to Concobar as a man, and the nature of discussion Ferrus presumed would be far more... tenacious, formalities and orations went only so far. And so, Ferrus did march into the war-room as commanded. He paused exchanging a brief glance with Concobar, remaining still until the doors closed behind him and then he took a few steps further resting his hands upon the war table.

"I suppose you knew the moment I agreed to our terms that I wouldn't be returning, it wouldn't have made a difference. Old and commendable generals are anathema to the Valradic senate, our ends are inglorious, some part of me had wished I'd see my end upon the field of honor, but I've grown grey much as you have. We won't live to see what'll be made of all of... this. So, I did what I had to, hoping it would be a compromise that would spare the youths of both nations of bloodshed and to preserve the dignity of your legacy. Quite a beautiful realm, my lord, men of war don't often stop to consider the intricacies... it hadn't even crossed my mind through all the conquests and such and such, it was merely the trade, the times."

Ferrus began to utter a manic laughter, before shaking his head in a sort of denial.

"Concobar... I lost, and the bitter irony is, it wasn't a Ruisian that drew the blade, but the Valradians... I hadn't even the time to rally nor speak to the others, such a masterful stroke, I suspected it but they struck my strings, a hound goes where the chain tugs after all."

Ferrus slowly raised his head and faced Concobar with a stern gaze.

" The Emperor is Dead. "

He allowed a few moments for his words to settle upon the old king.

"Having passed from a hunting accident, hah, we've heard that one before... an age of conspiracy is not so easily dismissed, hrm, the Empire falls to its old ways. But what difference does it make, here we are, beset upon all sides by the undead, it's not like my ordering a retreat now would turn the tide for the better, Marcus wouldn't even have believed me and Allaryon, well, she saw this coming not that she could do anything about it but I suppose I was a bit too stubborn, hrn, what was I to do? go in the history books as Ferrus the Traitor or Ferrus the Coward? my honor became my noose, I was bound to march here... and the circumstances of war blinded us to other considerations... with the legions dispersed, the cities and the capital remain in the grasp of the nobility... an age of rapture will follow. I could not and will not make this revelation to anyone else, it would have meant mutiny and worse, those soldiers would turn to brigands that would plague the countryside on top of all the destruction that has already been wrought under the name of a man who is no longer present."

Ferrus looked back at Concobar expectantly.

"There is no cause for me to return to the Empire, I would be a dead man and even if I were not there would be those who would rally around me, i'd be stoking the flames rather than remedying them. Marcus, on the other hand, will no doubt return with full force and he'll take those of the men that wish to make their way back... Concobar, there will be refugees, women and children, people bereft of their lands and so on... they will need homes and labor... and they will have nowhere to go... I will not be leaving Ruis, nor will I be leaving Caerbryn after all of this... I will offer my servitude in an advisory capacity and in return... I ask that the kingdom not turn away those that come to it seeking shelter. Consider these terms for my surrender to be uttered to your ears only. I received word from another of our generals, that a large relief force is making its way down from the mountains, this will be the remainder of the forces we have left and that of a vassal kingdom. We will have to hold till then, this is a foe you've faced before and we bring with us tactics, equipment and veterancy... together I believe our odds are exceedingly fair. For better or for worse, the outcome of this battle will be one of many that marks the beginning of a new age, perhaps not just for the nation of Ruis. Cathal delayed what we must finish, it will certainly not be the end of the realm's woes... but the matters that follow shall be determined by those who inherit this world and it is our responsibility to ensure that they do so free of this scourge, just as the gull must take flight of its own accord so too will Ruis make its own path in the greater world, with or without the Empire regardless, on my part I've at least ensured they don't have an illogical premise for another invasion, I presume the prospect of a wise diplomat also appeals to you. What say you, my king ?"

The Forest

"Unlikely Captain, at least that's what I hope, for your sake and ours... we have amongst us a.. countryman of yours... perhaps not of the most commendable stock but one whose words should suffice to provide testimony of all that's been going on... we've been... watching... you. As far as the terms between us are concerned, it is simple, we're aware that a ruisian garrison holds this pass, yours presumably, hence my request is thus, we have amongst our ranks hostages in no small number, you could say these prisoners were spared from a worse fate given the course of the war, they are alive and well... and it likely behooves you to ensure they remain that way, I have little doubt that some amongst your men have sighted their relatives amongst their ranks... if not children, spouses or parents... I offer a trade, I want you to draft an official decree, a right of free passage if you will, word it as you must, so long as it ensures we make it out of the pass and towards the mountains... though if it helps you sleep better at night, you might as well call this a... strategic retreat. The odds were not as favorable for us in Ruis as we predicted and we find ourselves at the head of a conspiracy, we were duped into senseless bloodshed for an ulterior motive to be accomplished elsewhere..."

Allaryon gestured for the way to be cleared for Odo to speak to the man, she stood by his side as a sign of solidarity presuming her authority would give more legitimacy to the claims that Odo was about to make to the man, the elf knew humans were hesitant to take on to speak of what they couldn't understand, sorcerous trickery though she hoped this Boldenkh would grasp the situation. Allaryon had played her best move, this was a gamble, though she had a backup plan, that ensured at least she and Odo would make it out of this one alive. Allaryon kept one hand on the dagger as pointed ears twitched, tuning to the chatter of distant guards and eyes kept watch for the slightest sign of hesitation, if it went wrong then she'd put a poisoned knife in the captain's belly and make a run for it, with Odo in tow. It was a tense standoff and her bargaining chip was... a blind orc... one who told the truth but a blind orc no less. Boldenkh likely humored himself at that thought, Allaryon would let him have that one, her own soldiers questioned the move, he could only imagine what was going through the Captain's head... but the only real concern here was getting out of this one.

If anything he'd do well to heed Odo's warning, perhaps gather what remained of their forces here and make way for Caerbryn and hopefully stay out of the hungering knives way. Allaryon hoped Marcus was having better luck than they were though she was secretly infuriated with him.

The March

There was momentum and morale in the air in the morning that followed, Rilynathine and Imperial warbands marched to their battle chants and once more Marcus had established an army that could fill the horizons. He rode with a cohort with the princes, captain seznich, Thor and the loremasters at his side. Banners were hoisted, the men looked well-fed, stalwart and eager to fight and the downhill march afforded them a degree of haste. All morning a subtle grin had rested upon the Wolf's features as he regaled his contemporaries on what they'd do when they reached Caerbryn. He went over strategies and simulacrums with the princes, seemingly testing their knowledge of tactics and strategy, the two worked exceedingly well in unison, like hammer and chisel.

" And Veliai you remember the false gap maneuvers we drilled, when faced with the enemy advance, how to feign a convincing withdrawal, lure them into the center of the position, and then spring the trap, Gorogoth, I trust you've practiced your Serperis advance, pulling in and out of a testudo in an irregular tempo both confuses the enemy and ensures you have a well-defended yet advancing front... their blows will glance armor but a skilled archer can exploit weaknesses in armor or worse yet pin you in an immobile position... remember, advance with the position, they may tempt you into a charge but discipline is key... good, this is no minor skirmish lads, all have high expectations of you. "

He added issuing a confident nod to both princes. Before looking to Seznich, uttering no words but a slow nod, conveying that they would soon be making their way to the pass heading into the lowlands. Marcus had scouted the areas from overhead using his Gryphon Invictus the morning before, ensuring they would not have to do any unnecessary way finding across the inundated landscape, some sections of the march cut across unusual paths through thick shrubs or gravelly slopes taking unconventional path primarily because the roadways had either been washed off or destroyed by the floods, as a boon however it seemed there was little concern for any retaliation moreso in the daytime. The march was progressing swifter than expected. Marcus took it as a good omen and estimated that by another day and a half's march they would make it to Caerbryn. The Rilynathine armies were known to be quite fast, it wasn't the first time the Empire had called upon them as a relief force.

The tides were turning and Marcus held great ambitions for Caerbryn, he uttered praises for King Zaknayrr before the two boys and promised that after all of this, they would be made Archates.

On a much lighter note

Upon one of the carts of the baggage trains, Invictus firmly held Thor between her talon tipped paws, vigorously preening the hound, getting rid of any mats or imperfections in his fur issuing low affectionate chirps and whirrs. She had missed her companion, no doubt a great hunt awaited the two of them but for now, the gryphon ensured a better reunion, she usually kept a few bones around for Thor bribing him for bringing her shiny trinkets which she stashed around the place, the gryphon seemed to adore decorate her surroundings almost making it seem like a nest. The rake like tongue brushed at the hounds fur at the end, and it was only once Thor was properly groomed did Invictus release him from her clutches, issuing a satisfied chirp.

Caerbryn Castle

The Forest

Caerbryn Castle

There was little denying that Ferrus was seized with a sort of unusual nervousness as Concobar contemplated his options, the die was cast in his court after all and when the wise king relented, Ferrus could only offer a bow laden with humility as a gesture of true thanks for such exceptional mercy, in truth, he wielded the foresight to see where all of this was going, maybe he had hinted at it, but Ferrus was convinced this buy out was the most favorable option in any given circumstance, what was called Ruis in this day and age might as well inherit the world beyond the mountains. The winds of change swept across his tent a fortnight ago, and now Ferrus was all the more assured of this course of action, moreso, that he had Concobar's own word and much like his estimation of Ferrus there was certainly an admiration and fraternity held for him by the general. Ferrus cast himself very much in Concobar's debt and with that came new responsibilities but this was no burden for the general rather he seemed envigorated by the end of their exchange, naturally this lead on to considerations of what was to come, the short-term so to speak.

Where they once stood now they sat at opposite ends of the table, partaking in food and drink, plotting and planning as one usually did in such settings. Ferrus commended the fare and took his share with the eagerness of a hungry man, certainly more than relieved to be rid of the standard gruel and porridge like rations of the camp. He took a moment to regale himself with Concobar's company, commenting on the King's love of art and culture and the little intricacies Ferrus had noted in the country, he asked about his people and the history of their kin, he asked about his weighing in upon the times all the same before returning to the matter at hand.

"Ah yes, the matter of The Wolf, In truth Concobar, he's a different species of man if you can even call him that, Marcus for all his brilliance is innately single-minded and once he commits to something, he is unshakeable, these qualities are excellent in a soldier but certainly not so for a general, the times necessitate change and for lack of a better word, a measure of laxity, you and I understand this, we understand these contexts because you in your experience as a ruler understand that the tempered tongue and the iron fist must go hand in hand, after all, you manage a court full of nobles, even if I am to go by the Valradic Senate as a parable, such gatherings are little better than beast markets and are a test of a man's sanity and patience, sieges too require temperance and patience.. and I already presented my motivations to you, if anything, you have my loyalty and I see no qualms in calling you my king from hereforth"

Ferrus paused looking to the side and issuing a deep sigh, from his expressions and gesture it was obvious this was more than just a trifling issue, it was a delicate matter and his look seemed to convey he would do his best but could not make any promises.

"Naturally for the properties he possesses, he's more a soldier's soldier, Marcus has the influence and the weight of word to turn camps and the legionaries whom are frustrated and longing will likely lend an ear to him, from amongst my ranks then, I suspect there will be loyalists and those who will ingratiate themselves with Marcus, as things stand right now, we could not tell who will do what and if I start putting my men to Ruisian scrutiny then they will not be fond of that gesture, its safe to say that soldiers are chosen for their ability to obey rather than think. I have no doubt your men have been kind to them, it certainly would have changed the hearts of many but others are more calloused... they have families to return to or perhaps ambitions of gaining fortune... what can be said of the reasons men go to war. Marcus won't be a thorn in our sides, he will be a spear and that is where Allaryon comes in, what I am hoping for essentially is that, we can align his march to where he arrives at Caerbryn presumably when the next incursion of those things is about to happen... in essence... "

Ferrus paused thinking of the matter to himself for a few moments longer.

"We barricade ourselves in and we let Marcus wage battle outside the walls, that way we can redirect his ferocity, like the force of a flowing river channeled into a more useful purpose. Marcus will not ask questions or deliberate, once he is at Caerbryn, he will be expecting a fight... and he will have one, just not against us. I'm sure once he's squared off against those things he'll be more inclined to reason... he will never relent, in fact I did not even think to inform him of anything thus far, he assumes that he is coming to reinforce a siege... from our bastion in the city we have a much more solid defense and we can truncate our forces in multiple layers of defense, from mobile combat in the perimeter of the outer ruins moving to more static and emplaced defense nearer to the inner walls. Arcor, the plans. "

Ferrus shook his head and sighed as one of his praetorians rolled out scrolls and placed figurines upon the table. Ferrus would then stand up and begin to gesture, his cartographers having managed to map out the region with some degree of accuracy at least as it pertained to the lines of combat and defense,



The First Line of Defense in the outer perimeter there was sufficient room and space to maneuver troops in open combat, given the flanks provided more room, Ruisian horsemen could be placed there in. There was only a single route of attack for the enemy which was head on, anywhere else they'd have to contend with spike pits and thick deep mud, a few ballistae had been installed on the wall capable of dealing with any strays, thus the enemy was feigned into believing there was an obvious exploit where they would be lured into a pincer. Infantry formed a rectangular echelons, with skirmishers and horsemen at their sides and ranged troops holding the high ground, a few garrisons were further out, small contingents of men to ensure a set of eyes around the battlefield but who could easily escape to the safety of the main army. If pressured the troops could retreat back into the Second line of Defense this crossed through ruins and rubble, with narrow causeways, moats and streets as well as blocked off sections essentially forming a maze of traps and obstacles, where the enemy force could be divided up and cut down tendril by tendril in brutal close quarters combat, several traps were also laid throughout. It was presumed that by the second line of defense, the enemy would mostly be vanquished however, A third and final line of defense existed consisting of the towers and patent fortifications of the inner walls, which the Valradians had failed to reach or breach, the legionaries repurposed siege equipment as defenses on the walls and reinforced the ranged garrisons here. Lugh was briefed on these plans by Ferrus's lieutenants

" Too stubborn, Concobar, he was always too stubborn... somehow the gods always see him through those calamities but for what he has done I do not think they will ever forgive him either. I'd almost hate to say it, but I don't think there's much if any humanity left in Marcus. I do not even advise you to waste your time with him, I wouldn't trust him around you, on my part, I will meet Allaryon and Marcus outside the gates, those who wish to return will return, those who wish to stay will stay... and history will be rewrote. But one thing I can promise you, with the Deus as my witness, I will be condemned to eternal damnation before I let Marcus molest the walls of Caerbryn or harm your people... I presume the news will hit him hard, I have no idea where he'll take it from there... but it is better to save ones own ship if its burning rather than attempt to sink the other. As for Allaryon, she's sharp minded and enigmatic, elves are notoriously fickle and capricious and she is no exception... I do not think Ruis presents any kind of opportunity for her, she has no reason to say... spiders like to build their webs where flies like to gather... she would have bigger worries to attend to back home. "

Ferrus tapped his fingers across the table, deep in thought.

"There is one... other concern as well... your retinue, the clans and nobles, it would be dishonesty to not tell you that a few of them have seemed a little intrepid with all these events going on, there are some who suffer from war but I know some see it as profit... and most importantly, what of Prince Lugh? I think given the dire circumstances, the nobles have enjoyed a loose hand on your part and they will certainly seek to capitalize once all is done... there are enemies within as much as there are beyond... certainly some will call you names for having shown the legion this mercy and others still will vilify you for welcoming strangers into your lands, I don't think the scars of this war will so easily leave the minds and hearts of your people... as soon as the war is done I intend to put my men to work, building roads and public works... to benefit your people in a gesture of thanks... they will earn their keep rather than burden your kin."

(WIP)