Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Flame across a Silver Sky (OPEN)

Not even the sun could outshine that ethereal orb, a descendant star bulging from the east. Not then so long ago. That was before he crossed the gap, setting sail from the undying paradise of his ilk, forsaking his immortality for a taste of power; of independence. But Bohtimbhar's colonial ventures were scorned by the local folk, the little men he considered as servants. Their lords saw Bohtimbhar and his realm as illegitimate -- a native land ruled by an alien menace and his strange kinsfolk from beyond the sea. They had first set foot upon the coast from white carracks, shaped from what seemed to be marble, like some ark of a long forgotten deity. Each bulwark carried an ominous, monochromatic banner -- the quartered flags bore no coat of arms; they carried no origin, but to the Elf-folk, the colours were synonymous with their enigmatic leader, christened as the Silver King by his enemies.

That was a month ago. Now those blank banners lapped voluminously across a large encampment bathed in the summer sky, across the borderlands that if travelled slightly north lead directly to the stronghold of his foe: Castle Woadrock, bastion before the lands of King Caomh II. It had been rumoured that Bohtimbhar's landfall had sent the squabbling tribes into a frenzy, the divisive culture uniting against this common enemy. Lord Caomh was the Patriarch of his nation, he was the leader that bore the spirit of his confederacy, it's material heirloom merely a wooden crown that sat upon his greying head.

After a negotiation went arwy, which ended in the heads of a few Elvish diplomats becoming skullcups for the local nobles, Bohtimbhar vowed to witness the sigil of the tribes burnt in a bonfire, along with it's wearer.



The thought of the dancing flame permeated within the Silver King's mind as he gazed toward the blue hue above the verdent cliffs in front. He saw a ball of fire from within his royal tent, but this object in the sky was not the sun, too coincidential to be some hallucination as the orb spoke to him in whispers, as it had once before in Paradise.

"Elf-lord." It spoke, the gutteral tone seemed to drown out the meandering chatter of soldiers and labourers from beyond the tent. "Come, give yourself and your ilk to us. We await in the Desert of Grey, come... and fulfill...-"

"Fulfill what, spirit?"

The voice wisped away, it's sentence abruptly unfinished, just as before. None before had heard the witchy wails that lapped in the wind, or the shadow of the orb which turned the grass maroon and the rivers blood-red. Not even the most pious of his folk seemed alarmed when the Bohtimbhar complained of dancing corpses that moved with the malleable shift of the clouds.

And none within this fortified cliffside would see it now, all of them ignorant to their Lord's insatiable wanderlust. Perhaps it was for the best.

The Silver King's iridescent eyes dimmed a slight bit as he closed them, the whiff of exotic incense bringing him back to the waking world. The blaze above had disappeared, the horrendous landscape it's shadow had brought soon dispersed alongside. He knew that it would not be the last time he'd see it, taking another snort of the cinnamon scent. It's essence engulfed the tent, and ghastly limbs of sweet smoke soon exited. Bohtimbhar struggled for comfort, however -- he would soon deal with more mundane foes in a matter of hours. Lord Caomh was supposedly an impatient ruler, The Silver King would not keep his newest rival waiting on the field.

Impulsively, he lunged at a worn atlas laid upon his round table, crafted by the ancient artisans of his homeland, and rose to leave the tent and greet his retinue.

Luvaria was another kingdom with colonial interests. Most of their colonies are on the Luvarian continent, only so named because of the Kingdom's conquest. They are ruled by a human royal house and a set of earls and chieftains that look over the various villages, townships and tribes united under the rule of King Haar IV. Although the Army of Luvaria is not represented here 'en masse', the King did send forces to fight for his trusted ally.

In earlier conflicts, Luvaria sent soldiers mostly from the land's goblin settlements. Luvar Goblins make hearty soldiers. They are small, but quick and strong. They earned a reputation for worrying less about their self-regard, focused more on accomplishing mission objectives.

A company of goblin conscripts fights for the Army of the Silver Kingdom once more. This time, King Haar sent some of his land's finest warriors alongside them. A group of 12 knights joins the goblin sappers and siege warriors. They could work together, with specially trained goblins using riding mounts to keep up with the knight cavalrymen (and women).

Two of these knights carried Luvarian Royal blood. They were Sir Vander and Lady Katherine. Vander commanded the Luvarian detachment. He wanted to shadow the high elf king and protect him. It was also good to gather as much tactical information as possible.

Sir Vander and a group of others stood within sight of King Bohtimbhar as he left his tent. The knight of dark brown skin wore brilliant armor of teal and maroon. These were the colors of the Teal Isle. A piece of crunchy, stale bread was in his hands. He'd been chewing the same bite for some time. He offered a curt head nod to the much taller high elf. "Good day to you, Your Highness", said the Earl of Teal Isle.

Bohtimbhar raised an eyebrow that was concealed under his visor. The folk of Luvaria were always a convenient presense, arriving at the time where their help was so greatly required. Perhaps it was simply a fortunate coincidence, one that the Silver King hoped remained. Lord Coamh would not be easily bent. His levied host outnumbered the army of Bohimbhar's by three men to one, and the many tribal kings and petty nobles had placed their faith in his leadership. Twelve thousand men for the defence of Woadrock; Twelve thousand blessings from twelve thousand nameless Gods: Of the Sun, the Moon, the earth, and perhaps even the dung the savages tread upon. Coamh's death would drive his vassals to despair; victory was the only outcome Bohtimbhar could be satisfied with.

The Elf grunted for a moment as Sir Vander introduced himself, his mind still fixated on the impending bloodshed. As he regained his concentration, he needed no context on the matter, nodding in reply to the sunkissed noble and his maiden companion.

"I am glad Luvaria and it's Lord Elf-friend Haar still remembers our past friendship, noble Sir." Replied Bohtimbhar, pressing his gauntlet across the mithril carapace with a bow. "The hour is too soon, and the Lords of the Woad will not be satisfied until a king's head rests upon a pike. Therefore, your companions; regardless of the origin, they shall recieve the same hospitality as any Eldar head in my realm."

The banners lapped alarmingly across a strong gust of wind, silencing any futher words from the superstitious King, fresh from the visions of that hellscape, maggot-like vines and scornful cliffs with more.

Then he creaked his head back toward the Luvarian guests. "My apologies, Elf-friends -- I have not had much sleep." Bohtimbhar stated apologetically. "The Woadfolk approach with each passing moment and I have mediated on an ambush. Follow me down to the tent of my Seer, there I can brief you on our plans of attack."

The apparent sudden arrival of Luvarian support was not as mysterious as it seemed. Caravans escorted by the horseback knights made the long trek from the depths of their homeland, far out to the Silver Kingdom. It was the military officers who coordinated travel. Room was made on different ships flying under Lord Bohtimbhar's silver banners.

"I am sure the goblin conscripts will appreciate the hospitality", Sir Vander quipped almost sarcastically. He hoped it would lighten the mood. A conflict like this could only bring darkness to the horizon. The only silver lining would be the makings of their own. Luvaria is a mixed kingdom. Goblins are some of the newest citizens, known more to the kingdom for years of skirmish.

Seventy-nine goblins set foot on this foreign soil. They wear the thick leather and chainmail armor issued by the King's Army of Luvaria. Their roles were mostly sappers, though they carried a variety of weapons and trained to fight in formation. They hoped to earn a better life for their people through their sacrifice, as goblins did before them in earlier conflicts.

As the Silver King spoke of ambush and led the soldiers towards the tent, Sir Vander said, "I would not be surprised if more forces arrive before long", said the knight. "Our envoys only have the capacity to reach so many nations."

Surely there were others in the what Luvarian alchemists deemed 'the mulitverse' that would answer the call to arms.