((No need to apologize. I'm quite low on the tree, and I'd say that there are other people in my family who need the help and support a lot more than I ever could ask for.))
A cynical grin lit up on Bohtimbhar's hidden face. He couldn't help but chuckle at the idea that a Fae had come all this way to seek his death, and this also gave Bohtimbhar more of a reason to distrust this new person. A better question would be how did HE get here..? At least the dead Fae had a reason. He head once again turned to Dmitri. "Very well, it's too bad I do not have a choice..." His words foreshadowed the future dealings that this Demon and the High Elf would have in the future.
Bohtimbhar kept his fist clenched. Although this figure appeared VERY dubious, he seemed quite powerful. Any aid is indispensable, regardless of what creature. "Tch... Very well. Bring him in! And sound the horns, for we must ready the battle plan." As the magical gates opened up, it seemed as though this creature was just in time for the battle plan. Soon, it will be discussed how to deal with the Riorii onslaught, as well as the Zathurazid Sultanate. A loud sound suddenly swept across the entire camp. Training was postponed until this compulsory matter was discussed.
A cynical grin lit up on Bohtimbhar's hidden face. He couldn't help but chuckle at the idea that a Fae had come all this way to seek his death, and this also gave Bohtimbhar more of a reason to distrust this new person. A better question would be how did HE get here..? At least the dead Fae had a reason. He head once again turned to Dmitri. "Very well, it's too bad I do not have a choice..." His words foreshadowed the future dealings that this Demon and the High Elf would have in the future.
Bohtimbhar kept his fist clenched. Although this figure appeared VERY dubious, he seemed quite powerful. Any aid is indispensable, regardless of what creature. "Tch... Very well. Bring him in! And sound the horns, for we must ready the battle plan." As the magical gates opened up, it seemed as though this creature was just in time for the battle plan. Soon, it will be discussed how to deal with the Riorii onslaught, as well as the Zathurazid Sultanate. A loud sound suddenly swept across the entire camp. Training was postponed until this compulsory matter was discussed.
Dmitri took a step back then began walking towards the tent where the battle plans were to be discussed.
"Obel!" The sergeant called for his goblin corporal. Most soldiers were referred to by their last names. However, the spry mountain creature only had one name. "Report!"
He responded to his sergeant by running to his bunk. The men had finished eating and were back in the barracks section. Dressed in his black and white Tabard and full regalia, he stood at the position of 'parade rest'. He was the epitome of a highly trained, disciplined, professional warrior. He would never treat the people who outranked him as friends. "Yes, sergeant", he replied.
"You will go to the meeting in a few min..." The powerful orc stood with his arms crossed as the sound of the alarm interrupted him. "Now! At the battle tent."
The goblin acknowledged, came to attention, about faced and jogged out of the room. Secretly, the Orc did not understand planning and such. He had amazing instincts and trained his men hard. He kind of needed someone smart to explain things to him sometimes. So Obel, the cunning thinker, was sent in his place.
He responded to his sergeant by running to his bunk. The men had finished eating and were back in the barracks section. Dressed in his black and white Tabard and full regalia, he stood at the position of 'parade rest'. He was the epitome of a highly trained, disciplined, professional warrior. He would never treat the people who outranked him as friends. "Yes, sergeant", he replied.
"You will go to the meeting in a few min..." The powerful orc stood with his arms crossed as the sound of the alarm interrupted him. "Now! At the battle tent."
The goblin acknowledged, came to attention, about faced and jogged out of the room. Secretly, the Orc did not understand planning and such. He had amazing instincts and trained his men hard. He kind of needed someone smart to explain things to him sometimes. So Obel, the cunning thinker, was sent in his place.
The pieces were all put into place. Soon, there would be a true plan, created by both the many advisors on how to deal with the approaching threats of Bohtimbhar's host. This matter was greater to Bohtimbhar than any of the miscellaneous scenarios currently in the camp. For the moment, he would have to dismiss this figure's arrival. There was a very important matter to attend to.
As Bohtimbhar entered inside the tent, he could see a map of the battle plan, lit by a native elven silver lamp, which gave a bright, luminescent colour to the wall, making the map very clear to see. The seating was semi-circular around the tent. It was obvious that the map was at the very front. Beside the map, stood Bohtimbhar's two advisors: Idranul and Arithir. Bohtimbhar laughed for a moment.
"Ha! How can a blind man, and a mute automaton contribute to a plan that requires both speech and sight!?"
"You would be surprised, my brother. For even though my sight is gone, my spiritual vision of the world grants my own view on the current affairs. And I thought you hated ignorance."
"I asked for your reason, not for your sharp tongue. I need not a reason to cut it off." Bohtimbhar felt his pride sink a little. It seemed that his inability to use magic has started have it's effect on his perception. As they spoke, Idranul held his hand up in the air, and knew subconsciously that he had grabbed the attention of both Bohtimbhar and Arithir.
"I hear the footsteps of the men, they approach..."
Within a few moments, high ranking generals and officials within the army slowly began to appear before the three, with some sightings of lower rank soldiers, aiming to offer some sort of guidance to Bohtimbhar's quest. The great plan was soon to begin.
As Bohtimbhar entered inside the tent, he could see a map of the battle plan, lit by a native elven silver lamp, which gave a bright, luminescent colour to the wall, making the map very clear to see. The seating was semi-circular around the tent. It was obvious that the map was at the very front. Beside the map, stood Bohtimbhar's two advisors: Idranul and Arithir. Bohtimbhar laughed for a moment.
"Ha! How can a blind man, and a mute automaton contribute to a plan that requires both speech and sight!?"
"You would be surprised, my brother. For even though my sight is gone, my spiritual vision of the world grants my own view on the current affairs. And I thought you hated ignorance."
"I asked for your reason, not for your sharp tongue. I need not a reason to cut it off." Bohtimbhar felt his pride sink a little. It seemed that his inability to use magic has started have it's effect on his perception. As they spoke, Idranul held his hand up in the air, and knew subconsciously that he had grabbed the attention of both Bohtimbhar and Arithir.
"I hear the footsteps of the men, they approach..."
Within a few moments, high ranking generals and officials within the army slowly began to appear before the three, with some sightings of lower rank soldiers, aiming to offer some sort of guidance to Bohtimbhar's quest. The great plan was soon to begin.
The figure slipped through the opening gates before the horde of reinforcements arrived behind him. Looks of fear, hatred, and confusion crossed the faces of many that saw the demon pass by them. It was not common that demons and races of Elven type got along well, if at all. Caring nothing for the glances his stature earned him, the figure strode towards the command tent.
Without word he approached the guards. His powers were not great enough to posses an elf, but he still demanded they let him into the tent. "Business," said the harsh voice, loud enough to be heard from within the tent. The volume of his voice was intended to be loud enough for the leader to hear.
Without word he approached the guards. His powers were not great enough to posses an elf, but he still demanded they let him into the tent. "Business," said the harsh voice, loud enough to be heard from within the tent. The volume of his voice was intended to be loud enough for the leader to hear.
Dmitri waited patiently for the meeting to begin, but his fur bristled as the demon creature began to approach. Had he been less in control of himself, he might have hissed, but instead he stood quietly, looking at the large map.
The corporal was the only goblin in the room and the lowest ranking member of the group. He stood rigid, sword holstered at his side. Technically, he was assigned to guard duty. Informally, a representative from his squad needed to be present because he was a part of a team called the grenadiers.
Wherever the fighting was the strongest, was where the grenadiers would be sent. In addition to their swords, they carried a rudimentary, alchemical firearm called the blunderbuss. It was only effective in close quarters and was more of a shock tactic than anything.
Obel was out of place, but confident. He also the shortest person in the tent, as well as in his squad. From his point of view, a lower rank or shorter height was not something to be embarrassed about. It was all about action. His eyes glanced around the room.
There was something that caught his eyes. It seemed to be a demon. A wry smile, barely cracked on the goblin's lips. He did not dislike any of the usually hated races. He felt more comfortable amongst demons and drow. There was also a strong looking feline man in a unique suit of armor. He looked like he would do some serious damage on the battlefield.
Obel's red and yellow eyes focused on the map. He begun to think of where his team could best be utilized.
Wherever the fighting was the strongest, was where the grenadiers would be sent. In addition to their swords, they carried a rudimentary, alchemical firearm called the blunderbuss. It was only effective in close quarters and was more of a shock tactic than anything.
Obel was out of place, but confident. He also the shortest person in the tent, as well as in his squad. From his point of view, a lower rank or shorter height was not something to be embarrassed about. It was all about action. His eyes glanced around the room.
There was something that caught his eyes. It seemed to be a demon. A wry smile, barely cracked on the goblin's lips. He did not dislike any of the usually hated races. He felt more comfortable amongst demons and drow. There was also a strong looking feline man in a unique suit of armor. He looked like he would do some serious damage on the battlefield.
Obel's red and yellow eyes focused on the map. He begun to think of where his team could best be utilized.
The men were silent, let alone the generals. Bohtimbhar, Idranul and Arithir stood solemnly among the luminescent lighting, projecting a great map of the world
(Please excuse the crude MSpaint map, it is simply an outline of the land.)
-Grey= Bohtimbhar's Host -Us
-Blue= Tribal Confederacy (lead by the Riorii) -AT WAR
-Yellow= Zathurazid Sultanate -AT WAR
-Pink= Kingdom of Starbright -AT WAR
-Bright Green= Confederacy of Elvish Nations -Unimportant
-Tan= Squabbling Reptilian chiefs -Unimportant
-Maroon= Iquazid Caliphate -Possible Ally
-Dark Green= Crusader Principality of Jurachon -Possible Enemy
-Orange= Kingdom of Al-Alauno (Sand Elves) -Possible Ally
-Violet= (De jure title has completely expired, land now dominated by Insect hordes) -CONSTANT THREAT
-Purple= "Indigo Horde" Chugiligo Khanate -Unimportant
-Red= Great horde of the Warboss Goldtoof skulltayka -CONSTANT THREAT
-Black/Sky blue= Uncharted land/Ocean
-Yellow X= Our position
-Black X= Ygnfel's horde
-White X= Fort Urag
"By the order of Lord Bohtimbhar, you have all been ordered to give your own opinion on the affairs of the land, as well as a contribution to the realm, in order to create the ultimate plan to destroy the Riorii Invasion." Idranul spoke on his master's Behalf, as he and Arithir gazed at the large map. "We shall give you a few moments to think, after that, your thoughts shall be put into practice. Think wisely, for your plans may pave the future of the realm."
(Please excuse the crude MSpaint map, it is simply an outline of the land.)
-Grey= Bohtimbhar's Host -Us
-Blue= Tribal Confederacy (lead by the Riorii) -AT WAR
-Yellow= Zathurazid Sultanate -AT WAR
-Pink= Kingdom of Starbright -AT WAR
-Bright Green= Confederacy of Elvish Nations -Unimportant
-Tan= Squabbling Reptilian chiefs -Unimportant
-Maroon= Iquazid Caliphate -Possible Ally
-Dark Green= Crusader Principality of Jurachon -Possible Enemy
-Orange= Kingdom of Al-Alauno (Sand Elves) -Possible Ally
-Violet= (De jure title has completely expired, land now dominated by Insect hordes) -CONSTANT THREAT
-Purple= "Indigo Horde" Chugiligo Khanate -Unimportant
-Red= Great horde of the Warboss Goldtoof skulltayka -CONSTANT THREAT
-Black/Sky blue= Uncharted land/Ocean
-Yellow X= Our position
-Black X= Ygnfel's horde
-White X= Fort Urag
"By the order of Lord Bohtimbhar, you have all been ordered to give your own opinion on the affairs of the land, as well as a contribution to the realm, in order to create the ultimate plan to destroy the Riorii Invasion." Idranul spoke on his master's Behalf, as he and Arithir gazed at the large map. "We shall give you a few moments to think, after that, your thoughts shall be put into practice. Think wisely, for your plans may pave the future of the realm."
A lot of the higher ranking individuals were spending minutes in silence, even after Lord Bohtimbhar had given the order. It showed that the mission was to be a solemn one. Obel's unit, the Grenadiers were the shock troops. They were just a little stronger and faster than the average solider. Bravery and self-sacrifice were their biggest assets however.
Obel took one step forward and resumed the position of attention. In that spirit, he opened his mouth and begun to speak. The look on his face was stoic... Blank.
"My Lord, I humbly request that the 279th Grenadiers rush forward as soon as possible to the northeastern corridor of our territory. As the horde advances, we can cut South and disrupt their logistics along with whichever infantry unit is stationed in that area. We could fall deeper behind their lines at night and hit their supply wagons with explosives." He stopped to catch his breath.
There may have been a different grenadier unit in that area, already stationed and waiting. There were likely to be outposts, border guards and regular foot soldiers. Sending the Grenadiers to lay in wait and hit the rear could be tactical common sense. Or...
"Or, my Lord, we could head roughly northeast from here, try to find a shortcut through Zathurazid territory and stall their advance. If the enemy heads east from their current position and then heads south, we'd be in position to cut off the rear again. I will leave our course to our gracious generals and you, Lord Bohtimbhar."
Obel took one step forward and resumed the position of attention. In that spirit, he opened his mouth and begun to speak. The look on his face was stoic... Blank.
"My Lord, I humbly request that the 279th Grenadiers rush forward as soon as possible to the northeastern corridor of our territory. As the horde advances, we can cut South and disrupt their logistics along with whichever infantry unit is stationed in that area. We could fall deeper behind their lines at night and hit their supply wagons with explosives." He stopped to catch his breath.
There may have been a different grenadier unit in that area, already stationed and waiting. There were likely to be outposts, border guards and regular foot soldiers. Sending the Grenadiers to lay in wait and hit the rear could be tactical common sense. Or...
"Or, my Lord, we could head roughly northeast from here, try to find a shortcut through Zathurazid territory and stall their advance. If the enemy heads east from their current position and then heads south, we'd be in position to cut off the rear again. I will leave our course to our gracious generals and you, Lord Bohtimbhar."
Dmitri studied the map carefully, all the while tinkering with a small gem within a gyro of some sort. His tail occasionally twitched as he examined the map, and he let out a soft, thoughtful sigh.
He looked up when he heard a familiar voice: the goblin from the previous evening who had thought he might be able to work with the dwarven metals. He raised an eyebrow, curious as to what a soldier like him was even doing here. He held no disrespect for Obel, but wasn't the war room a place only for officers? Not that he himself was an officer officially, at least not within Bohtimbar's army, but he had experience as an officer.
Still, he listened patiently for Obel to finish and shrugged a little bit at the Goblin's plan. He himself wasn't one much for sneaking. He fully understood the tactical opportunities it presented, but he was more of a full on charge sort of cat, and he didn't intend to add to Obel's plan. It seemed dangerous, but if it worked, it would be a great help.
He finally chimed in, his thick accent very out of place in the room. "It would take me between one and two months to create a unit of my automatons, if I had access to all the forges, blacksmiths and materials… Maybe less if there was no waiting for materials to be delivered at any point during the process… If I can get this done…" he took a spare screw from his gyro and placed it on the map to represent the unit of automatons, then put a cavalry piece behind that, "Then I could lead a force of them and a cavalry troop around…" he moved the pieces along the border between the Sultanate's and Riorii's lands until they were perpendicular to the marker that represented the enemy forces, "and attack from the south and potentially the east."
He looked up when he heard a familiar voice: the goblin from the previous evening who had thought he might be able to work with the dwarven metals. He raised an eyebrow, curious as to what a soldier like him was even doing here. He held no disrespect for Obel, but wasn't the war room a place only for officers? Not that he himself was an officer officially, at least not within Bohtimbar's army, but he had experience as an officer.
Still, he listened patiently for Obel to finish and shrugged a little bit at the Goblin's plan. He himself wasn't one much for sneaking. He fully understood the tactical opportunities it presented, but he was more of a full on charge sort of cat, and he didn't intend to add to Obel's plan. It seemed dangerous, but if it worked, it would be a great help.
He finally chimed in, his thick accent very out of place in the room. "It would take me between one and two months to create a unit of my automatons, if I had access to all the forges, blacksmiths and materials… Maybe less if there was no waiting for materials to be delivered at any point during the process… If I can get this done…" he took a spare screw from his gyro and placed it on the map to represent the unit of automatons, then put a cavalry piece behind that, "Then I could lead a force of them and a cavalry troop around…" he moved the pieces along the border between the Sultanate's and Riorii's lands until they were perpendicular to the marker that represented the enemy forces, "and attack from the south and potentially the east."
The Goblin's eyebrows furrowed noticeably when this feline man spoke. There was one basic aspect to being a soldier. It was respect. Obel had seen this character before, walking freely among the highest ranking of the high. If this feline was to really join the army, he would be in for a rude awakening. Luckily for the 279th, the man was just a peasant wearing armor, not a soldier.
As he continued to speak, Obel got more and more angry. As one of the rooms' armed guards, he wanted to remove this character from the room for lack of discipline. He did not make one mention of the word sir after all he said. People would be dying while he tinkered with his toys. Typical officer, in the rear with the gear.
In the 279th, the noncommissioned officers (sergeants) ran the show. The officers filled out paperwork and made sure everyone had all the supplies they need. Real soldiers wear the proper uniform, act professional, and work as a team. What, therefore, was this feline? Not to be trusted, that's what. Obel sneered at the man while still standing at the position of attention.
Being a soldier is not about having the most control or acting like a tough guy because you have gear. It is about respect. And hopefully these spoiled mercenaries would not blow the war. Obel thought of his enlisted brothers in arms who passed away. We're they less important because they were not officers? Without the enlisted, the officer corps would be completely useless.
Anyone who researches the name Grenadiers would know that they are an elite unit made from the toughest soldiers in the military. For a goblin to make it shows he has been through some serious stuff, as the scars all over his body would attest. Obel sensed the condescension in this cat as he spoke and through body language. It was a mistake the feline would not want to make again. If one does not eat and train with the soldiers, one should not speak amongst them either.
As he continued to speak, Obel got more and more angry. As one of the rooms' armed guards, he wanted to remove this character from the room for lack of discipline. He did not make one mention of the word sir after all he said. People would be dying while he tinkered with his toys. Typical officer, in the rear with the gear.
In the 279th, the noncommissioned officers (sergeants) ran the show. The officers filled out paperwork and made sure everyone had all the supplies they need. Real soldiers wear the proper uniform, act professional, and work as a team. What, therefore, was this feline? Not to be trusted, that's what. Obel sneered at the man while still standing at the position of attention.
Being a soldier is not about having the most control or acting like a tough guy because you have gear. It is about respect. And hopefully these spoiled mercenaries would not blow the war. Obel thought of his enlisted brothers in arms who passed away. We're they less important because they were not officers? Without the enlisted, the officer corps would be completely useless.
Anyone who researches the name Grenadiers would know that they are an elite unit made from the toughest soldiers in the military. For a goblin to make it shows he has been through some serious stuff, as the scars all over his body would attest. Obel sensed the condescension in this cat as he spoke and through body language. It was a mistake the feline would not want to make again. If one does not eat and train with the soldiers, one should not speak amongst them either.
Dmitri could feel Obel's gaze and he raised an eyebrow at the goblin. "Did I say something to offend you?" he asked, quickly picking up on Obel's expression. "I did not discredit your plan, if that's what you're thinking. I don't suggest my plan instead of yours, but for both to work at the same time," he explained, just as a random guess as to the source of the goblin's anger.
Dmitri didn't know that Obel was mad at him for being an "officer," but he didn't seem to have felt any sort of anger towards Dmitri the previous night when they had spoken. He even slept in the bed just opposite to Obel's.
Of course, the little green being's assumption that Dmitri would stay in the back to tinker was completely false. He intended to be at the front of the lines of cavalry, if his plan was to be allowed to happen, then to charge into battle with them all, as a soldier. He had no love for those who stayed behind without fighting. He loved to be in the heat of the battle and wasn't about to give that up simply because he was a mercenary officer.
He held Obel's gaze for a while before looking back down at the map, "If you..." he pointed to Obel and after a moment of searching for the proper piece, found a metal blunderbuss labeled "279," which he placed on the table, "If you follow your plan, and I follow mine, we might be able to ambush the heathen king from both sides. When I come from the south, they'll have no potential help from the Sultanate, and if you attack from the Northeast and cut off trade and supplies, they'll suffer very heavy attrition."
Dmitri didn't know that Obel was mad at him for being an "officer," but he didn't seem to have felt any sort of anger towards Dmitri the previous night when they had spoken. He even slept in the bed just opposite to Obel's.
Of course, the little green being's assumption that Dmitri would stay in the back to tinker was completely false. He intended to be at the front of the lines of cavalry, if his plan was to be allowed to happen, then to charge into battle with them all, as a soldier. He had no love for those who stayed behind without fighting. He loved to be in the heat of the battle and wasn't about to give that up simply because he was a mercenary officer.
He held Obel's gaze for a while before looking back down at the map, "If you..." he pointed to Obel and after a moment of searching for the proper piece, found a metal blunderbuss labeled "279," which he placed on the table, "If you follow your plan, and I follow mine, we might be able to ambush the heathen king from both sides. When I come from the south, they'll have no potential help from the Sultanate, and if you attack from the Northeast and cut off trade and supplies, they'll suffer very heavy attrition."
"If there shall be a fight," the figure said in his harsh voice," before the battle, I would gladly claim the soul of the loser." His cracked lips opene into a smile that revealed stained, jagged teeth. "Otherwise, I bear news from my master. An... Offer." As he strode a sharp claw caressed the edge of te tent, scraping a short line into it before flying his hand away from the tent and resting near the shadows. The black eyes scanned the peculiar group. A forked toungue tested the air. "I sense the tension in the air," he added with slow words.
There were no weapons in the figure, but it seemed that he would not need them. At six feet and with strong, sharp claws he could kill easily. Then again, most demons could. He tapped his fingers against his leg impatiently waiting for a reply. Each strike against his red, leathery skin drew a black substance from it. This self inflicted pain made him smile genuinely.
"Shall you hear me out?"
There were no weapons in the figure, but it seemed that he would not need them. At six feet and with strong, sharp claws he could kill easily. Then again, most demons could. He tapped his fingers against his leg impatiently waiting for a reply. Each strike against his red, leathery skin drew a black substance from it. This self inflicted pain made him smile genuinely.
"Shall you hear me out?"
"I'd like you both to follow your own independent plans, an ambush from the north and the south, as Dmitri had said, would cripple the entire Riorri army." Bohtimbhar agreed with both plans, but leaned slightly towards the Khajiit's ideas. Ygnfel was a stubborn fool. No matter how badly damaged his army would be, once he finally got to Urag, he would definitely try to siege the fort. And once he got there, he would have to face Bohtimbhar's much larger force, where he and his men would finally slay the heathen king, and laugh as their soon-to-be theirs realm turned into a land of squabbling tribes once again, ripe for the taking.
Bohtimbhar looked toward demon again, as it began to offer some form of proposal. The Elf chuckled cynically. "Hmph. An offer? And what price will be demanded if I am to listen..?" While it would be unwise not to hear out everyone in the room, Bohtimbhar was careful of such deceitful and malevolent entities that Demons could be, or at least become...
Bohtimbhar looked toward demon again, as it began to offer some form of proposal. The Elf chuckled cynically. "Hmph. An offer? And what price will be demanded if I am to listen..?" While it would be unwise not to hear out everyone in the room, Bohtimbhar was careful of such deceitful and malevolent entities that Demons could be, or at least become...
The 279th was a unit of about 50 men. As shock troops, they were more well suited to smaller scale but important missions. Their goal was being a force multiplier. 50 Grenadiers would bolster the strength of any combat unit.
They just didn't have the numbers to fight an entire army by themselves. Their tactics would be unconventional in a time of conventional war.
Aside from his scowl, Obel made no other remarks towards the Khajiit. He let his words linger in the air. His mind focused instead on the upcoming mission. Obel would have to brief, not only the sergeant above him, but also the unit's Captain, who was returning from the Zathurazid front with about a dozen Grenadiers.
The unit was trained to fight on foot, but in times when they needed quick movement, they could move on horseback. Their steeds were penned in a section of the tent along with the other beasts. Grenadier horses were the strongest and fastest. They were usually from a breed of a dark raven color.
Obel's eyes glanced towards the demon. A wry smirk began to form on his lips. Soul? Goblins did not hardly have any souls. Their lifestyle was to bring fire and destructive revelry right here on Earth. This just made Corporal Obel trust the demon more than the average soldier. He stood, short, but in his own way tall and proud. Even amongst generals.. Even amongst hellfire...
They just didn't have the numbers to fight an entire army by themselves. Their tactics would be unconventional in a time of conventional war.
Aside from his scowl, Obel made no other remarks towards the Khajiit. He let his words linger in the air. His mind focused instead on the upcoming mission. Obel would have to brief, not only the sergeant above him, but also the unit's Captain, who was returning from the Zathurazid front with about a dozen Grenadiers.
The unit was trained to fight on foot, but in times when they needed quick movement, they could move on horseback. Their steeds were penned in a section of the tent along with the other beasts. Grenadier horses were the strongest and fastest. They were usually from a breed of a dark raven color.
Obel's eyes glanced towards the demon. A wry smirk began to form on his lips. Soul? Goblins did not hardly have any souls. Their lifestyle was to bring fire and destructive revelry right here on Earth. This just made Corporal Obel trust the demon more than the average soldier. He stood, short, but in his own way tall and proud. Even amongst generals.. Even amongst hellfire...
Dmitri backed a little further away from the demon. Being a cat, there were several things he didn't particularly like, the three most prominent of them are water, being dirty, and demons.
His fur was on end and his tail was all poofy. If it weren't for the dragon bone armor, and the arsenal of weapons on his person, he would be hilariously cute. But he was not one to be trifled with, especially not while he had a battle axe that could light anything it struck on fire.
He looked towards Obel and nodded curtly, "If you need them, I can provide you with some of the dwarven spheres," he offered, "They make good distractions and can hold their own in battle."
His fur was on end and his tail was all poofy. If it weren't for the dragon bone armor, and the arsenal of weapons on his person, he would be hilariously cute. But he was not one to be trifled with, especially not while he had a battle axe that could light anything it struck on fire.
He looked towards Obel and nodded curtly, "If you need them, I can provide you with some of the dwarven spheres," he offered, "They make good distractions and can hold their own in battle."
The demon took a step from the shadows and within a few long strides he stood at the table, deliberately placing himself next to the cat. "One hundred and one souls. That is the price my master has set for the use of horde. One hundred and one souls for one hundred and one demons." A hideous smile spread across the demons face. "Those killed in battle do not count, nor do those of the enemy. One hundred and one from your own kingdom, all pretty and happy. Give us this, and he assures you... victory." The smile grew bigger. As he spoke he nodded towards the cat when he spoke of sacrafice. "A kitten could work nicely... so could a goblin... and an elf... and a sightless being..." The eyes fell upon the odd construct-seeming being in the room. "Does it have a soul? Does have a taste?" The eyes of figure lit up at the thought. "I bet it tastes like a elf stew." If the smile were able to grow any wider, any more hideous, any more repulsive, it would have.
From the petrified wooden body, Arithir's consciousness made a loud growl, similar to that of a vengeful ghoul. His rune marks lit with ferocity. Arithir was always a model High Elf, at least before his death. He despised Demons, as well as his Dark Elvish brethren for being so easily susceptible to such possession, and he would no doubt truly want Bohtimbhar to rue his choice of employing the horrid creature.
Idranul on the other hand, was quite intrigued, there could be a use to this. He silently whispered to his lord, only through the visor was Bohtimbhar able to hear the voice.
"I understand that this choice is a difficult one my lord, but you must come to terms. We will not have enough men to take on the entire continent. We both know that ultimately, all conquest is paved in blood, and by the end of this war, there will not be enough warriors in the continent itself to take on the insectiod horde to the north. So I beg of thee... take this, but exploit it..."
The blind elf slowly crept away from his master. After a brief silence, the Lord made his choice. "Very well, I accept, but on MY own condition. The souls that you take of my host will be those who fall in open combat, not to this dubious ritual!" Bohtimbhar spoke with a sense of great aggravation, something unexpected within such a race as calm as the High Elves. All men gazed at their lord, for his choice, while not being in their favour, had potentially made this war into a competition. Their loyalty to eachother had been slightly eroded, for none of them wished to suffer the fate this creature's master had set for them.
Idranul on the other hand, was quite intrigued, there could be a use to this. He silently whispered to his lord, only through the visor was Bohtimbhar able to hear the voice.
"I understand that this choice is a difficult one my lord, but you must come to terms. We will not have enough men to take on the entire continent. We both know that ultimately, all conquest is paved in blood, and by the end of this war, there will not be enough warriors in the continent itself to take on the insectiod horde to the north. So I beg of thee... take this, but exploit it..."
The blind elf slowly crept away from his master. After a brief silence, the Lord made his choice. "Very well, I accept, but on MY own condition. The souls that you take of my host will be those who fall in open combat, not to this dubious ritual!" Bohtimbhar spoke with a sense of great aggravation, something unexpected within such a race as calm as the High Elves. All men gazed at their lord, for his choice, while not being in their favour, had potentially made this war into a competition. Their loyalty to eachother had been slightly eroded, for none of them wished to suffer the fate this creature's master had set for them.
He nodded in return as Dmitri offered his help. It was more than a gracious offer and Obel resented his earlier attitudes towards him. A soldier who has seen combat is often slow to trust and quick to anger. It wasn't personal.
"I would love the reinforcements, sir. But I heard it may take some time before they are ready and we grenadiers are the advance force. The first on the scene. We will stall and hold up the enemy to give you time to build your automatons."
Next the demon spoke.
Obel held back his chuckle, or he tried to, as the demon hinted at his soul. A demon would have to do more than that to scare a goblin, especially one who has seen the fires of hell right here in combat. There were bigger worries on his mind, like accomplishing the mission. Like hurrying and getting to the North. The offer could be beneficial to the army, however and 101 souls was a shockingly low number.
Obel was also pretty sure that they didn't need a guarantee of victory from a demon lord. If there were demons, there were also angels and angels could be reached just as easily. It might behoove the demon to accept the compromise and accept souls of the fallen soldiers. If not, Obel would trick him into accepting his own barely existent, paltry soul. He already gave his soul to the Army anyways...
"I would love the reinforcements, sir. But I heard it may take some time before they are ready and we grenadiers are the advance force. The first on the scene. We will stall and hold up the enemy to give you time to build your automatons."
Next the demon spoke.
Obel held back his chuckle, or he tried to, as the demon hinted at his soul. A demon would have to do more than that to scare a goblin, especially one who has seen the fires of hell right here in combat. There were bigger worries on his mind, like accomplishing the mission. Like hurrying and getting to the North. The offer could be beneficial to the army, however and 101 souls was a shockingly low number.
Obel was also pretty sure that they didn't need a guarantee of victory from a demon lord. If there were demons, there were also angels and angels could be reached just as easily. It might behoove the demon to accept the compromise and accept souls of the fallen soldiers. If not, Obel would trick him into accepting his own barely existent, paltry soul. He already gave his soul to the Army anyways...
Dmitri hissed quietly at the demon and placed his hand on the hilt of his dragon bone mace. The weapon glowed with teal veins at his touch, signifying an enchantment. This one allowed Dmitri to banish any summoned creatures or undead raised by necromancers with one blow. He could by no means kill the demon with it, but it would cause a level of pain the the Devil himself would squeal in agony at.
"Do. Not. Mock. Me. Hell Spawn," Dmitri spat. When Bohimbar spoke, he just nodded. He trusted the elf more than anyone since the Demon's presence wasn't allowin him to think clearly, and when Obel spoke, he nodded again.
"Do. Not. Mock. Me. Hell Spawn," Dmitri spat. When Bohimbar spoke, he just nodded. He trusted the elf more than anyone since the Demon's presence wasn't allowin him to think clearly, and when Obel spoke, he nodded again.
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