Azmodal was a vast world and ancient. Many beings had sought to make themselves legends in this world. Some chose the noble route and aided those in need. Some the selfish way and took whatever they desired.
Few are remembered here now. The world is ready for new heroes and villains. And for those who desire nothing more than to be who they are without the grandiose parts of this life that many seek. All are welcome in this world.
Even you. Though your story is yet to be told.
___________________________
((OOC
This is the official thread which will be GMed by me. In this thread there is no set story line and you are free to do as you please. Just keep the rules in mind and the fact that this is GMed.))
Few are remembered here now. The world is ready for new heroes and villains. And for those who desire nothing more than to be who they are without the grandiose parts of this life that many seek. All are welcome in this world.
Even you. Though your story is yet to be told.
___________________________
((OOC
This is the official thread which will be GMed by me. In this thread there is no set story line and you are free to do as you please. Just keep the rules in mind and the fact that this is GMed.))
It had been a very mundane morning. Trade reports, tax reports, stockpile reports, training reports, and then reports reporting on far older reports.
Whoever said it's good to be King has never attempted the task, Haralus mused, pushing the thick stack of parchment to the far corner of his massive desk with a disdainful finger. He rose slowly from his heavy bronze chair, and sighed as he rubbed a tired hand across his eyes. The sun was fully up now, well positioned to cast a saber of light across the rooftops of the Capitol, all the way back to the Citadel, and it filtered through the windows of his office as though it were as just as bored as the King.
"Lyrkan," he addressed the figure reclined on one of the office's many ornate loungers, "You, as always, have my approval to deal with these as you see fit. Must we do this every morning?"
The figure stretched, and rose from the seat, letting out a small chuckle.
"As you will, my Lord. And yes, it only seems proper that...."
The King cast his second a sharp look, and cut him off. "Yes, yes. 'Proper that his Highness be aware of all the goings on of the realm, no matter how minor'. Spare me the speech, brother Lyrkan. It's far too early for me to sit through your 'advising' yet again." He motioned to a far thinner stack of documents spread across the marbled table next to the lounger that had been previously occupied by his second.
"You could at least mix these so called 'interesting' reports in with the mundane, my friend, and not withhold them so tauntingly." He moved towards the far corner of the room, where a small selection of Azmodal's finest liquors were kept inside a mahogany cabinet, crafted by the Elven Houses and gifted to him on his ascension to the throne. He poured himself a drink of a light mead. "So, what have we today?"
Lyrkan shuffled the papers around as the King took a long pull from his drink, and moved towards the window.
"There is talk amongst the courtiers that..."
"When, friend Lyrkan, is there not talk among the courtiers?"
Lyrkan nodded and shuffled the papers again. "Moving on... the Thirteen are active again. The Captain of the Guard for the canton has requested more men in order to catch them. He is concerned that leniency towards their vigilantism may set a bad example."
Haralus released a guffaw. "I expect the noble Captain cares less what example it sets for the citizens, and more how it reflects on his competence. Tell him that if he requires more men, there are presumably Thirteen well-qualified individuals already available in his canton that appear to be capable of dealing with the local banditry."
"I will pass on that he has your support, but no men can be spared," Lyrkan sighed, before thumbing through the final report. "Scouts near the eastern border are still concerned about the troop buildup I'd mentioned weeks ago. One of their number has personally ridden to the Citadel to impress these concerns on us. He would like to see you, if you wish it."
Haralus didn't reply for some time, gazing out of the office's window and nursing his drink. As a child, it had seemed his father was constantly faced with one crisis after another, and had spent his days engaged in high diplomacy, military manuevers, and other 'kingly' affairs. He'd done well for the Kingdom - so well that Haralus couldn't help but worry there was simply little left for him to do to make a lasting mark in the history of his people.
King. Bah. I am but a servant, he thought, looking across the city at the grassy plains spread before the cavern's gaping maw, How easy it would be to simply renounce my holdings and venture into some great unknown.
He gave his head a small shake, and turned to Lyrkan. "Bring him to me and we will see what has our warriors so concerned." He turned back to the window as Lyrkan nodded and moved to the door, before adding "Don't think I've forgotten, my friend. Is there any news from our expeditions into the Mists?"
Whoever said it's good to be King has never attempted the task, Haralus mused, pushing the thick stack of parchment to the far corner of his massive desk with a disdainful finger. He rose slowly from his heavy bronze chair, and sighed as he rubbed a tired hand across his eyes. The sun was fully up now, well positioned to cast a saber of light across the rooftops of the Capitol, all the way back to the Citadel, and it filtered through the windows of his office as though it were as just as bored as the King.
"Lyrkan," he addressed the figure reclined on one of the office's many ornate loungers, "You, as always, have my approval to deal with these as you see fit. Must we do this every morning?"
The figure stretched, and rose from the seat, letting out a small chuckle.
"As you will, my Lord. And yes, it only seems proper that...."
The King cast his second a sharp look, and cut him off. "Yes, yes. 'Proper that his Highness be aware of all the goings on of the realm, no matter how minor'. Spare me the speech, brother Lyrkan. It's far too early for me to sit through your 'advising' yet again." He motioned to a far thinner stack of documents spread across the marbled table next to the lounger that had been previously occupied by his second.
"You could at least mix these so called 'interesting' reports in with the mundane, my friend, and not withhold them so tauntingly." He moved towards the far corner of the room, where a small selection of Azmodal's finest liquors were kept inside a mahogany cabinet, crafted by the Elven Houses and gifted to him on his ascension to the throne. He poured himself a drink of a light mead. "So, what have we today?"
Lyrkan shuffled the papers around as the King took a long pull from his drink, and moved towards the window.
"There is talk amongst the courtiers that..."
"When, friend Lyrkan, is there not talk among the courtiers?"
Lyrkan nodded and shuffled the papers again. "Moving on... the Thirteen are active again. The Captain of the Guard for the canton has requested more men in order to catch them. He is concerned that leniency towards their vigilantism may set a bad example."
Haralus released a guffaw. "I expect the noble Captain cares less what example it sets for the citizens, and more how it reflects on his competence. Tell him that if he requires more men, there are presumably Thirteen well-qualified individuals already available in his canton that appear to be capable of dealing with the local banditry."
"I will pass on that he has your support, but no men can be spared," Lyrkan sighed, before thumbing through the final report. "Scouts near the eastern border are still concerned about the troop buildup I'd mentioned weeks ago. One of their number has personally ridden to the Citadel to impress these concerns on us. He would like to see you, if you wish it."
Haralus didn't reply for some time, gazing out of the office's window and nursing his drink. As a child, it had seemed his father was constantly faced with one crisis after another, and had spent his days engaged in high diplomacy, military manuevers, and other 'kingly' affairs. He'd done well for the Kingdom - so well that Haralus couldn't help but worry there was simply little left for him to do to make a lasting mark in the history of his people.
King. Bah. I am but a servant, he thought, looking across the city at the grassy plains spread before the cavern's gaping maw, How easy it would be to simply renounce my holdings and venture into some great unknown.
He gave his head a small shake, and turned to Lyrkan. "Bring him to me and we will see what has our warriors so concerned." He turned back to the window as Lyrkan nodded and moved to the door, before adding "Don't think I've forgotten, my friend. Is there any news from our expeditions into the Mists?"
The expeditions into the Mists had provided little in information. The exceedingly few who had come back had not arrived in their right minds. Babbling of creatures, fire, and death were what little they conveyed.
Lyrkan admitted the captain a few minutes later. The Dwarf wore a heavy fur cloak over his metal armor and stood taller than most Dwarves. Haralus had heard of him, a half-Dwarf who had risen in the ranks through sheer tenacity and skill. He was almost always talked ill of when those nobles in the army deigned to mention his name.
Captain Desmond Ironstorm bowed to his king in a manner befitting a properly raised noble. "My King. I come at the behest of my fellow captains. They fear that those who amass at our border desire war and I am somewhat inclined to agree given what I know of them."
Pulling the hood of his cloak back the Captain continued "The forces arrayed along the border of our kingdoms number at least a thousand strong with more coming every day. They remain at their camps but always have a lookout watching our positions. I cannot ascertain their intent however. What I do know is that war is a possibility but some of my fellows are over eager to relive long gone glory days or to attempt to make themselves a name."
Bowing again he finished "I am just a low born captain so perhaps what I am led to believe is false. The captains I work with are all good Dwarven folk after all but I know one of the Chiefs across the border and he has said that he has heard no desire for war. That being said what matters in the end is what you desire us to do. If there is any information you feel I have left unsaid I will answer any questions."
Lyrkan admitted the captain a few minutes later. The Dwarf wore a heavy fur cloak over his metal armor and stood taller than most Dwarves. Haralus had heard of him, a half-Dwarf who had risen in the ranks through sheer tenacity and skill. He was almost always talked ill of when those nobles in the army deigned to mention his name.
Captain Desmond Ironstorm bowed to his king in a manner befitting a properly raised noble. "My King. I come at the behest of my fellow captains. They fear that those who amass at our border desire war and I am somewhat inclined to agree given what I know of them."
Pulling the hood of his cloak back the Captain continued "The forces arrayed along the border of our kingdoms number at least a thousand strong with more coming every day. They remain at their camps but always have a lookout watching our positions. I cannot ascertain their intent however. What I do know is that war is a possibility but some of my fellows are over eager to relive long gone glory days or to attempt to make themselves a name."
Bowing again he finished "I am just a low born captain so perhaps what I am led to believe is false. The captains I work with are all good Dwarven folk after all but I know one of the Chiefs across the border and he has said that he has heard no desire for war. That being said what matters in the end is what you desire us to do. If there is any information you feel I have left unsaid I will answer any questions."
"Desmond Ironstorm!" the King boomed jovially after the Captain had finished speaking, accepting the bow with a wave of his hand. "I have heard much of your prowess and skill in such matters, and appreciate you putting forth an effort to bring me up to speed on the occurrences personally."
In truth, the King was somewhat unsure what to make of his Captain - while he fully embraced the policies of promotion on merit that had been brought to the forefront of military politics by his father, and had heard nothing but good things about Ironstorm from others who felt the same way, the distaste of many of his higher-born subjects that seemed to linger around the Captain could not be ignored. While much of it was simply old nobles clinging to a fading past, there were some among their number who's opinions he trusted implicitly in all other matters, and he had trouble imagining they would be so biased as to dislike a man for the sake of a foolish tradition.
He waved his glass slightly and moved back towards the liquor cabinet. "Your journey has not been a short one - would you care for a drink? You may consider yourself a guest in my chambers, though I expect you can retrieve your own refreshments."
He poured himself a second glass of the mead as he spoke. "I appreciate that your comrades hold concern, and that you do not. It would seem as though some action may indeed be required to diffuse the situation, or to meet it, if need be." Ideally before some fool looking to make a name for himself gets us into a fight we don't need.
"I also appreciate that you cannot speak to the motives of these men, but I know of no reason why I should not hear the reasoning for your personal opinion as to what they may be attempting to accomplish before I collect the opinions of your fellow Captains. You will forgive me for not taking the word of a Chieftain I have not had dialog with - how am I to know if he is an honorable man?"
He took a long pull, and extended a finger from around his glass, pointing it at the Captain. "You, Desmond Ironstorm, have a reputation, as you surely know. For all I have heard, a question as to your perception, intelligence, and honor has never arisen. Beyond the word of this Chieftain, what so convinces you this is not simply a poorly planned act of aggression on the part of our neighbours?"
In truth, the King was somewhat unsure what to make of his Captain - while he fully embraced the policies of promotion on merit that had been brought to the forefront of military politics by his father, and had heard nothing but good things about Ironstorm from others who felt the same way, the distaste of many of his higher-born subjects that seemed to linger around the Captain could not be ignored. While much of it was simply old nobles clinging to a fading past, there were some among their number who's opinions he trusted implicitly in all other matters, and he had trouble imagining they would be so biased as to dislike a man for the sake of a foolish tradition.
He waved his glass slightly and moved back towards the liquor cabinet. "Your journey has not been a short one - would you care for a drink? You may consider yourself a guest in my chambers, though I expect you can retrieve your own refreshments."
He poured himself a second glass of the mead as he spoke. "I appreciate that your comrades hold concern, and that you do not. It would seem as though some action may indeed be required to diffuse the situation, or to meet it, if need be." Ideally before some fool looking to make a name for himself gets us into a fight we don't need.
"I also appreciate that you cannot speak to the motives of these men, but I know of no reason why I should not hear the reasoning for your personal opinion as to what they may be attempting to accomplish before I collect the opinions of your fellow Captains. You will forgive me for not taking the word of a Chieftain I have not had dialog with - how am I to know if he is an honorable man?"
He took a long pull, and extended a finger from around his glass, pointing it at the Captain. "You, Desmond Ironstorm, have a reputation, as you surely know. For all I have heard, a question as to your perception, intelligence, and honor has never arisen. Beyond the word of this Chieftain, what so convinces you this is not simply a poorly planned act of aggression on the part of our neighbours?"
Desmond removed his helmet as he said "I appreciate your offer but I'm afraid the finer points of your liquor collection would be lost on my untrained palate. A Captain on the border has little chance to practice the finer points of life."
Frowning he continued "As to why I do not believe they mean harm I would question why they would attack us. Surely they know we have superior arms, well trained warriors, and more men than are alive in their own kingdom. Besides our border towns have always enjoyed trading with each other for the things each other needed or desired. Fur coats for Dwarven decorations, our medical items for the pups of their hounds and a hand in training them."
Haralus noted how he thumbed one of the small markings on his helmet as he continued "We've mourned the deaths of each other's elders and shared the burden in their burial. My own father was buried not long ago and not one of the nearby chiefs did not show up to my abode to speak with me personally. Why now would they throw away the bond our towns have made to go into a war they know they will lose?"
Desmond removed his gloves and put them in a pocket in his coat as he said "I know my reputation your Highness. I know why I am posted along the border. Those above me hope the half-breed dies because those they view as barbarians chose a path I cannot see them taking. A path that will cause not only the death of their kingdom but the death of many of those I consider my own. If it comes to that path I will gladly go unto war for you my King. I will give my life should the need come."
He looked at Haralus again as he concluded his thoughts "I do not pretend not to know that I will never rise above where I am. I will never have a say when the final decision on this comes. Such is the role of a half-breed much as I believe you are aware. All I ask is we make an attempt at settling this without war."
Frowning he continued "As to why I do not believe they mean harm I would question why they would attack us. Surely they know we have superior arms, well trained warriors, and more men than are alive in their own kingdom. Besides our border towns have always enjoyed trading with each other for the things each other needed or desired. Fur coats for Dwarven decorations, our medical items for the pups of their hounds and a hand in training them."
Haralus noted how he thumbed one of the small markings on his helmet as he continued "We've mourned the deaths of each other's elders and shared the burden in their burial. My own father was buried not long ago and not one of the nearby chiefs did not show up to my abode to speak with me personally. Why now would they throw away the bond our towns have made to go into a war they know they will lose?"
Desmond removed his gloves and put them in a pocket in his coat as he said "I know my reputation your Highness. I know why I am posted along the border. Those above me hope the half-breed dies because those they view as barbarians chose a path I cannot see them taking. A path that will cause not only the death of their kingdom but the death of many of those I consider my own. If it comes to that path I will gladly go unto war for you my King. I will give my life should the need come."
He looked at Haralus again as he concluded his thoughts "I do not pretend not to know that I will never rise above where I am. I will never have a say when the final decision on this comes. Such is the role of a half-breed much as I believe you are aware. All I ask is we make an attempt at settling this without war."
Haralus considered his words. I suspect he is right - it would be foolish for them to attempt to cause us any harm unless they have some power we are unaware of. Even then, the odds are not favorable.
"I feel you speak the truth, Captain. To bring war to our doorstep, particularly when no demands have been made, and when we so clearly and significantly outmatch their forces, would be foolish and hold little sense.
Still, the question must be answered as to what their activities are attempting to accomplish - surely they must understand that they do not appear to be acting as friends.
The King finished his drink, and set the glass back on the cabinet. He looked out the window again, and smiled slightly.
"It appears to be a pleasant day. Perhaps our border units are due for an inspection by their King.
Moving near the door, he pulled on a heavily engraved bronze chain that ran from a slot in the ceiling to the floor of the chamber. A distant bell chimed, and in moments, a servant entered the room.
"Assemble my horses and personal guard. 50 men should suffice - I expect only to be among friends and face little danger on this journey. Provisions for several days travel will be needed, and I expect the party will be prepared to depart before noon."
Thinking, the King looked over at Desmond. "I would invite you to ride with me, Desmond Ironstorm, but shall not command it. Your service would, no doubt, prove invaluable in this matter, but I understand that your regular duties, and journey here, have likely been wearing. Should you wish it, you are welcome to remain here for the night - you'll have full disposal of the Citadel's accommodations.
"I feel you speak the truth, Captain. To bring war to our doorstep, particularly when no demands have been made, and when we so clearly and significantly outmatch their forces, would be foolish and hold little sense.
Still, the question must be answered as to what their activities are attempting to accomplish - surely they must understand that they do not appear to be acting as friends.
The King finished his drink, and set the glass back on the cabinet. He looked out the window again, and smiled slightly.
"It appears to be a pleasant day. Perhaps our border units are due for an inspection by their King.
Moving near the door, he pulled on a heavily engraved bronze chain that ran from a slot in the ceiling to the floor of the chamber. A distant bell chimed, and in moments, a servant entered the room.
"Assemble my horses and personal guard. 50 men should suffice - I expect only to be among friends and face little danger on this journey. Provisions for several days travel will be needed, and I expect the party will be prepared to depart before noon."
Thinking, the King looked over at Desmond. "I would invite you to ride with me, Desmond Ironstorm, but shall not command it. Your service would, no doubt, prove invaluable in this matter, but I understand that your regular duties, and journey here, have likely been wearing. Should you wish it, you are welcome to remain here for the night - you'll have full disposal of the Citadel's accommodations.
Desmond returned his helmet to his head as he said "I thank you for the offer but I would rather be ready and home as soon as I can. Should anything occur I would prefer to be there. With that said I should go ready myself and retrieve my weapons."
With that said Desmond took his leave and Haralus was left to wait for his men to be ready. The hours passed with little of note as his men were getting ready. In time a Dwarf came to inform Haralus that his men were ready.
As Haralus walked out he saw his men. Each in the best armor available and carrying weapons of fine dwarven craftsmanship. He recognized each of them, some nobles who had volunteered as Royal Guardsmen, some warriors who had been brought in from the army. Along with them were horses and a pair of carriages for transportation and hauling supplies.
As he approached he heard one of the nobles speaking to Desmond "I'm glad to hear my cousin is doing fine for himself. Though I'm happier to hear he's become more even headed with the locals, last time I came to visit he tried to fight the village elder."
Desmond nodded to the man as they finished readying their horses "I remember that, the Elder hasn't let him forget it either. I'm happy to serve alongside your cousin, he's a good Dwarf."
With that said Desmond took his leave and Haralus was left to wait for his men to be ready. The hours passed with little of note as his men were getting ready. In time a Dwarf came to inform Haralus that his men were ready.
As Haralus walked out he saw his men. Each in the best armor available and carrying weapons of fine dwarven craftsmanship. He recognized each of them, some nobles who had volunteered as Royal Guardsmen, some warriors who had been brought in from the army. Along with them were horses and a pair of carriages for transportation and hauling supplies.
As he approached he heard one of the nobles speaking to Desmond "I'm glad to hear my cousin is doing fine for himself. Though I'm happier to hear he's become more even headed with the locals, last time I came to visit he tried to fight the village elder."
Desmond nodded to the man as they finished readying their horses "I remember that, the Elder hasn't let him forget it either. I'm happy to serve alongside your cousin, he's a good Dwarf."
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