18+ We Are Legion

King Alex Mercer

At last a finely dressed ambassador walked into the room in tow behind Morgan. "Lord Mercer. My name is Neamon. I speak on behalf of King Telmor Udiryan. He wished to forge and alliance between our great kingdoms, so that we may stand united against the Empire."

Lord Alex Mercer gave a grim smile, the pieces to the puzzle were falling together. War was coming and was stacking up allies, they would withstand the Rhyfelwyr and amass their own armies to take down the corrupted kingdom. No matter what the cost. "This makes me a happy man, Neamon." Alex said as he walked around the table to get closer to his guest. There was still a 3 meter distance. "Now does King Udiryan expect something from me, a gift of good faith?" He asked as he began to pace. "This would be unnecessary, but I will oblige if he asks. Does your king understand the price he will have to pay by siding with me? I doubt not his intelligence, and I need allies, but I want him prepared." Alex hoped this ambassador would be smart enough this was purely out of respect for King Udiryan, not to insinuate the King has a lack of knowledge on the matter. "If we are allies I do have a one term, that will work both ways. Free travel throughout each others land, military and citizens. I'm willing to compromise, but I do not see any problems. It would be appreciated if the King could send military over to Faylin, my city closest to the infectious Rhyfelwyr who had started to invade my land. I fear the city may be attacked sooner or later and the support would not go unappreciated."

"My Lord, King Udiryan expects nothing more than support. He too has grown tired of this Empire and would love nothing more than to play a part in its downfall." He smiled graciously. "As for military support, we can offer troops by the tens of thousands, but the more troops we send, the longer it will take to get them there."

Alex looked at the man with slight suspicion, which turned to gratitude. He knew this was a silver tongued diplomat who would make the King seem more generous and kind than he is but this was his men he was sending. Were they apart of the Rhyfelwyr's schemes? No. "If what you say is true, I see our kingdoms getting along perfectly." Alex thought a moment, a test of the numbers he could amass. "Would giving me command of 50 thousand troops be appropriate to ask?" Alex tests, more of a daring request, "Patrolling my border alongside my own troops and defending my city alongside my own men. It would be a good strategy for revealing our alliance to my people and getting our soldiers accustomed to working side by side." This was an offer from Alex, and one he did not want refused. "This visit has been most pleasing ambassador, after this if you and your men are in no rush to head home you can spend up to three days in one of our finest luxury taverns, free of expense."

Neamon winced at the figure, but Mercer would not retract it. "I'm sure 50,000 soldiers can be spared, my Lord," he said smiling. "As for your offer, I think I could do with a few days rest. Thank you, your grace," he said smiling gratefully. Alex appreciated the lengths this man was going to keep him happy. "I appreciate this visit Neamon, you've done a great job representing your kingdom. I'm sure your King is proud, but I would like to meet him in the flesh. Could you send him a letter, and organize a meeting?" Alex wondered why the mysterious king suddenly sent a diplomat to another secretive king, treachery and betrayal were to come in the days ahead and whether Alex was going to face it, it was inevitable. Who it came from Mercer did not know, and it drove him mad. "It would be my honour, my Lord. I will make the arrangements at once," Neamon said as the smile on his face grew from ear to ear. So far Alex was happy, earlier he made a fairly large request and it had been accepted, in his mind he had been thinking 'if he refuses he refuses, if not I become stronger'. Many people make the mistake of taking no risks, or asking something daring.

Them coming to Alex also made things better, it meant they were interested, the alliance also meant Alex could take his troops from their border and better use it to guard against the Rhyfelwyr. Alex smiled as he gave a slight nod to Neamon, "Enjoy all my capital has to offer, and if you need anything else arrange it with my trusted adviser Morgan. Now if you don't mind, I have business to attend to."

Jason Mercer - The Son

Andrea clapped a hand on Jason's shoulder and gave him a violent pat on the back as they caught up with each other. "You just got your ass saved by a girl." She says, smiling. "You say that every damn time!" Jason said, rather enthusiastically. He loved the aftermath of a fight, where he was alive and they weren't. "C'mon, lets get you back to Blacklight." Andrea said as she began to lead the way. They were a mere 3 kilometers from Chrysos, and heading for The Mercer Family's castle. They had been traveling for a long time touring the lands. Jason made public announcements informing people they didn't have to love their rulers and the guards are not to punish them for speaking out, as odd as this was. He spoke with the common folk and tried to boost his family reputation. He had been on this task for months and it was time to head home, Jason was looking not forward to planning his next move. War was very real, and he was born into a family that knows it too well.

The Vampiric Commander
The Vampire Lord; The one in charge of this sector of army reread the orders one last time. Kill them all. They were on their way to another village to pillage, they were invading the kings lands in Xevenia and in their travels they would need to pass through a fairly thick forest with little room for fighting. Not with that many numbers. There was 1500 deadly vampires ready to decimate the mere 500 sell swords, and there wasn't enough room for a fight with 2000. Instead 550 Vampires would be involved directly in the attack.

The fight would be organized and quickly executed, the entire force would not participate in the battle that was about to be held. The sell swords marched through the forest, it was a clear black sky, the vampires were at full strength. They stalked through the forests, their vampric talents allowing them to seek out lifeforms of all kinds, they knew where their enemy was at all times. The prey stopped, and for the next hour began to get comfortable in a clearing the size of half an acre. Their 'leader' began shouting out commands, maybe they would not be staying here. It didn't matter, this was their golden opportunity. Not that they needed one. The way they had been stalked had been unique, they were completely surrounded. They were followed from the sides and behind, along 50 of them 'following' from the front.

The 50 traveled ahead and set many traps, but they only needed one to go off. The traps were simple snares capable of lifting an entire human being, their armour was light so it didn't factor into it too much. Once one went off they would be confused, they would likely think it was a mere hunter and they came across it by bad luck. They would not have time to ponder on it.

There was a mix of snares and pitfall traps laid out over a small distance assuming the sell swords would continue in their direction through the forest. The prey was eating, but quickly picked up pace again. They traveled for a mere few minutes before one of them was lunged and left hanging upside down in a snare. The confusion was instant, it was like a ripple from the middle of the pool and slowly spread out to the men furthest away from the incident.

As soon as the last man realized what had happened arrows began to fire, everyone had their own target. They only needed to communicate with the vampires around them to avoid hitting the same target, although it was inevitable. Few sell swords were hit with two arrows but it did happen, and all but 6 bodies crumpled to the floor in an instant.

500 men dropped down to 499 as the last of the men were killed before they could draw their weapons. The vampires swooped in to clean up the kill. The arrows were retrieved and weapons taken to be used later. The ones who sent these, if they came looking, would find these weapons had no blood on them.

The men were hung upside in the trees, their heads removed. 499 headless men lay dangled upside down, the one who had been ensnared still in his spot only with his head removed. The vampire commander looked into a pit, one of the men had fallen into one. He was left there, and his kneecaps removed. Whether he would starve to death or die of other causes was left to fate as the vampires receded from the scene.

The heads were put in crates by common workmen and shipped to the lands of the enemy. A lovely message, the swords and weapons of the soldiers were also sent back but broken. It seems foolish to rearm the enemy, but it was a move Alex Mercer himself suggested. It wouldn't have made a difference. Melting them down and making use of them in other ways was considered but scrapped, this was their plan now. Only a few weapons had been left at the scene, and they had been laid out to spell "GO HOME".

Veronica Mercer
Veronica Mercer, the first daughter of Alex Mercer nodded as she was told an eagle from a foreign kingdom had just arrived. Sent to inform them of a king coming to meet for diplomatic purposes. "It seems everyone wants a piece of The Mercer Supremacy, for good or bad." She commented before dismissing the servant. She retreated back to the dining hall to have a light meal, then made her way to the castle courtyard. She was greeted by Rosetta, who met her here often. "Hello Milady." Rosetta said as her master approached, giving a curtsey. "Greetings Rosetta, would you care to spend some time with me in the garden?" Veronica asked her dear servant. Personally, Veronica hated garden work. She didn't understand why people willingly do garden work, but Rosetta loved it.

Rosetta was a fellow high elf, only a few years apart in age with Veronica being the younger of the two. "I would love to Milady, it would be an honor." Rosetta said, smiling ear to ear. It was a genuine smile, but slightly exaggerated to show extra appreciation. "Oh drop the formalities and call me Veronica when no one is around, I don't mind Rose. None of the clan does."

General Caesar Romeike
"General Romeike, we have just received word a few thousand have joined our ranks and are in training now. This is much more than expected, and they should be ready for battle in a few months. If we are not yet at war they will be trained further." Lieutenant Nero informed his superior of the latest military news. He did not take it well, slamming his fists onto the table. "We're already at war!" He snapped, "A few thousand is nothing. We need soldiers god dammit, not untrained whelps. I need 25,000 troops on that border right fl*ffing now! I'm tired of the enemy slipping through and raiding our villages, we look weak!"

The commander had not yet discovered of the abundance of possible troops that will be sent over in a matter of time, 50,000 trained soldiers suddenly being taken into their army was a huge boost and just what The Supremacy needed after their battle with the Rhyfelwyr in which they haven't yet recovered. They stand their ground, but in a full scale attack an army will get past that border. It is just a matter of time, they need to be ready to hold them off. Then in due time, ready to destroy them at their core.

Nomad lay on the hard wooden floor of the ship. It had taken nearly an hour to get to the docks, and after that was merry making and duels, and some brawls, on the main deck. Nomad didn't drink alcoholic beverages, there was too much of a bad history with it in his family. Nomad didn't know how many men he'd bruised, or even cut, but it was an enjoyable night, one unlike any he had had since he became king. He heard thunder, and a call to all hands to get to the deck. Nomad climbed up, quickly jumping in to help keep the ship together in the raging storm.
"My lord, prepare the lifeboats, we can't have you sink!" The captain said, trying to keep his ship steady.
"I'll prepare it, but I will not leave, not until everyone is safe!" Nomad shouted above the storm. He quickly ran towards the lifeboats, undoing the ropes that held them in they're place. As Nomad untied the final boat the ship was rocked to the right, flinging Nomad over the side. He grabbed onto the slippery side of the boat, holding on for dear life.


Lothton Scar-Bearer, the last of the line. He was the son of the once emperor, now rebel leader, Volthton Scar-Bearer. Lothton was a high ranking General in the rebel army, though his father didn't seem to think much of him. Lothton held up his hand, signalling the seven thousand men at his command to stop. Lothton knew that was a lot, but they could not fail to take Jerarh. If they did so, then the kingdom's fresh water supply could be cut off, making it much harder as men would need to travel to the Wal'Gan Canal and back to bring the cities and villages water.
"Knock your arrows." He said, they needed to be ready to fire when the one thousand men inside still loyal to the past empire gave the signal. A torch flew over the wall, the battle had begun.
"Release hail!" He shouted, and the arrows flew, killing the guards stationed on the towers. The men rushed the gates. The spies met them and threw down ropes. Catapults and Ballistas would arrive there soon. It was time to retake Sondheim.


Runsultare sat and listened to the requests of the villagers. And finally, the last man of the day, an ambassador from Arcsosiceni.
"My lord. I come from Valera, with request from our king for aid in the war against the tribes of Arcaosiceni. We offer you a gift of gold to symbolize the start of a great alliance. "
The ambassador said, kneeling before Runsul and offering up a sack filled with gold ingots.
"I am afraid that we would be of little aid to you. We have an army of 14,000 men, and half we need here to finish the civil war that has preyed on our land and people for a year now. I am certain that King War-Blade would gladly accept an alliance with Arcsosiceni, but we have no troops to spare for war." Runsultare said.
"You may tell your king, that with regret, we cannot assist him, not because of our beliefs, but because---" Before Runsultare could finish his words a guard burst in.
"My lord! Urgent news from Jerath! They are under siege! They half eight thousand men attacking. It's the rebels, sir." Runsultare stared at the messenger for a moment. Then opened his mouth to respond.
"Prepare the army, we ride at dawn tomorrow." He turned to the ambassador.
"This my friend, is why we cannot help. Please do not think us selfish or hostile, for we are not." Runsultare turned to the leader of the guard.
"Escort him to the docks, that is the safest way out of Sondheim for now. Do not let him out of your sight, if the rebels spotted him, they'd kill him on the spot."
"Yes sir!"


Nomad pulled himself up onto the ship and quickly grabbed a bucket to dump the water out.
"Batten down the hatches boys! We're in fer a ruff ride!" The captain shouted, then veered the the left so as to avoid a huge wave. Nomad saw the sail starting to get pulled away, this ship had no rows, without it they were stuck in the middle of the ocean. Nomad grabbed the rope, trying to hold it down, but the wind was strong. The sail flew up, bringing Nomad with it. It shook violently and Nomad's grasp loosened, soon the rope slipped out of his hand and he fell down, hearing a snap, he wasn't sure what broke, burn it was him, he knew because of the extreme pain.
"Aghhhh!" He shouted, not able to move, not wanting to. It seemed as though this was the end. Another wave splashed on the side of the ship and the water went into Nomad's lungs, choking him and making him cough.
"Get the king out of here!" The captain shouted to Lugot, a khajiit and the kings personal guard.
"The ships going down, get him out of here!" He shouted. Lugot grabbed Nomad and set him in a boat, lowering it down. The ship slowly shrank, and soon, it appeared to catch fire, and collapsed into the water. Nomad's eyes drifted shut, and it appeared that they were about to make it out of there, they could see the land. Until a large wave turned the ship over on its side, knocking Nomad under, and unconscious. The next thing he felt was... sand, a beach it seemed.


Vergan, a castle guard, ran to the frontline, the main gate of Jerath. He was 18, he had joined the guard a month ago, and hadn't seen combat, besides the occasional thief. The sounds around him seemed distant, vague. The banging of the battering ram on the gate, the speech from the captain, the sound of swords clashing with those who had already climbed the gate. Then, everything became clear again as the gate burst open, and the enemy charged in. For a moment, Vergan was filled with fear, wishing to flee, then he remembered his mother, and his love. He would not let them die. He swung his sword at the enemy, and blocked as many attacks as he could with his shield. As hard as they tried, they could not hold them back. They were pushed back into the men who had climbed the gate. Vergan swung his sword again, sending the head of a rebel flying, maybe he wouldn't die after all, maybe, just maybe, he'd live through this. He heard screams as a stone flew thew the air and slammed into the walls, several more flew. One hit right above Vergan, and he ducked to get away, but his legs were crushed by the falling debris. He shouted for help, bit was terrified as one of the rebels came up to him and lifted his sword, and stabbed him in the heart. In a matter of seconds, Vergan died, and everything went dark. The last thing on his mind was his mother and lover, he wished he could see them, one last time.

"I am not surprised to find a meeting of this kind taking place in the sewers, it is where you belong, Brann." Exclaimed Horus Thorn, the sound of his voice bouncing of the wet stone walls. Ahead of him was one of the larger chambers where all the sewer tunnels met up, and the sewage caught up in the middle, and a strong stream pulled it all in and later, out into the sea, where it no longer was the trouble of men. Above this sewage disposal, was a rather grand gathering of cloaked men and women of all ages and classes, Horus saw jewel necklaces glimmer under the heavy cloaks of one of the ladies, her already big figure reinforced by the thick leather cloak she wrapped herself in. The ringing sound of chainmail grinding against itself, muffled by a wool coat of a grey old man, revealing the hidden armor worn by him.
And in the middle of this cloaked band of cutthroats, was Lord Brann of Ba Gaer, son of late Lord Horenn, defeated and slain by Cythraul, during the siege of Ba Gaer in the Unification wars, the long campaign of Cythraul to conquer Arken. Lord Bronn did not hide who he was, instead of a cloak, he wore the colours of his clan, a dark blue linen shirt, with the dark pine tree embroidered upon his chest. Upon his head rested a crown of twigs and branches, and in his leather belt lied an axe on each side of his hips, both richly decorated to resemble a wolf, and a sabre cat.
Horus had followed Brann's principle, and had not bothered hiding himself, he stood straight, proudly wearing a brown fur-lined wool coat, ending at his knees, with gold-tinted shoulder pads, as well as his golden medal of the Senate, attached to his chest.
Behind him stood three white knights, not warriors of the Rhys, but warriors in the service of his own family and House, House Thorn. Their plate armour had been forged in Tirod Afon, Horus birthplace. Crafted by the smiths of his House, the armour sets were forged to resemble Hydras, their helmets shaped into the heads of the beasts of the Sea, while their visors were massive growling mouths, metal fangs surrounding all of the visor, and a long, purely aesthetic viper-tongue erupted from the centre of the growling mouth. The armoured gauntlets were clawed, their hands clutched tight to their battle-axes under the claws. The chestplate was long and sleek, extremely tight, and decorated with shimmering scales, and below that, the legs of these warriors, were cloaked from sight by a dark-blue robe, and loosely hanging sets of scaled blue-tinted metal, all in all making the three of the warriors seem more beast than man, something Horus was very fond of showing to anyone in proximity to him.

gggHghg "I belong in Ba Gaer, Horus. But mayhaps those lizards behind you would wish to return to the sea?" Brann pointed towards the tunnel, leading out towards the ocean, far in the distant.
"I'd feed them five fingers to see that spectacle, as would all of us here I am certain." A few bold laughters could be heard from the cloaked crowd, but they ended quickly once they realized none else joined them, and a cascade of whispering emanated once again from the crowd, joining its sound to the dripping of water from the roof, and the sound of the sewage stream below them.

"Hydras don't fear the sea, and you would be wise to remember what tree we build our boats of next time you open that mouth of yours, northman." Horus's Hydras behind grunted in approval.

Lord Brann stared furiously at Horus, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists. But he did not speak.

"Mayhaps now that we are all gathered, you two could end your squabbles and we can get this done with?" A light voice asked from the crowd of people, and the big woman Horus spotted earlier pulled down her hood, revealing curled ginger hair, two big, plump chins, and a huge amount of powder colouring her face in the fashion that most noble ladies of Arken somehow had declared fashion. The big woman now raised her arms towards Horus, on the other side of the chamber.
"Come Senator, we have waited for too long already." She smiled, and urged Horus forward, he complied, walking past Lord Brann, toward the centre of the big chamber, the iron bars he walked upon groaned and moaned with the effort of his weight, and bits of rust fell down into the stream below.More men and women stepped forward now, some being helped out of their cloaks by others, and some choosing to keep their identities a secret.
Horus recognized many of the men and women ahead of him. Lady Jachyss of Goldfort was the robust lady that had spoken earlier, an infamous political monster in the capital, who used the money from her brothels and underground organizations to give her the power her name carried today.
By her side now was Lord Cennegt Blotbund, lord of the three islands off the northern coast of the capital, known as The blood drops by the people, after how Lord Cennegt picked one young girl from each of the islands to bed, as soon as their first bleeding came, after he had bedded them, he had killed all three and sent them back to the islands, in fear of having bastard sons claiming his lordship later.
Behind them came Lady Lydia of House Blackshield, wife of Lord Arn Blackshield, the ruler of Dinas Waed, the largest island-settlement in Arken.
Horus saw many other familiar faces, petty nobles from around the provinces, but he was relieved when he realized only Brann was the noble with any real "power" of them all. Lord Brann had been taken as hostage after the Unification wars by Cythraul Rhyfelwyr, and had been held imprisoned in the capital for years, until his uncle now had passed away, and Lord Brann was to be sent north, to rule Ba Gaer for the Rhyfelwyr. Brann had a deep spite for the Rhyfelwyr, but there were no other candidates left, and the northmen refused to be ruled by anyone else than of the same blood as their old rulers.

"I count twenty men and women of noble birth in these sewers, although I believe I know what it is you have to speak with me about already, let me know why twenty ladies and lords cower in the sewers." Horus voice boomed through the sewers.
Once again, Lady Jachyss was the one to speak, after looking to her friends behind her.
"Before we go further, I must thank you for coming to this summoning, Senator Horus. Without your presence here, this gathering would have been for nothing, and my dress would be soiled with sewage for nothing." She performed a dramatic act of terror, pulling her dress up, and sighing as she saw how the end of it had gotten wet and dirty.
"Senator, we are all aware of this wedding taking place between young Tankred, and the elven princess." Lord Cennegt said.
And just like that, Horus fears were proven justified, it was clear.
They only called him Tankred.

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"Pies! Get your warm pidgeon pie here! Freshest in Duwdemwl!" A fat elf shouted over the buzz of the city, the smell of the moldy pie reaching the young Prince's nose."By the gods, it reeks!" Announced Tankred to his escort.
"Tastes better than it smells my Prince." The Rhys guide yelled over his shoulder, as he and three other warriors cleared the main part of the street of people for the escort.
"I'll take your word for it..." He muttered to himself, sighing as he looked towards the towering palace ahead of them, were his fate would be sealed in the following days.
----


"Prince Tankred! We are delighted to have you under our roof! Welcome! Welcome!" The Elven minister embraced Tankred, under the vigilance of Tankred's guards, all watching the elf for any sudden movement, the regard of elves had not changed much to the Rhys.
"Thank you, Minister. Has there been word of my family? Have they already arrived?" Tankred knew he should know the minister's name by heart, but he just didn't bother with it. The elf didn't seem to notice, but just smiled at him.
"Yes my Prince, your family arrived two days ago, and have been nothing but a blessing to us all so far! The sight of your father in Duwdemwl has been glorious! The sun and air of the south will do good for his body too, I am sure of it." The minister stepped back and bowed graciously, Tankred rolled his eyes at the drama, politics had never been something for him.
"I am glad to hear, show me to them Minister." This time the elf's smile vanished for a second, but returned straight after again, as if nothing had happened.
"I would be delighted to my Prince! Your father is-""Emperor Cythraul." Tankred interrupted.
The elf leaned his head, and smiled again.
"Emperor Cythraul is in the plaza. This way my Prince."
-------

"I do not bother with the infighting of petty trade lords. Find some sellswords or let them bleed themselves to death, I will not waste my kinsmen on desert dogs." The merchants stared at him in blind anger, it seemed Cythraul's guards noticed too, as they stepped in-between their king and the elves.

As was popular with many clans and Houses of Arken, Cythraul had donned his guards in their own decorated armour sets, and Cythraul spared no expense when it came to his Kingsguard.
The ten Rhys around him where clad in golden armour, shining in the desert sun, the heat radiating from their armour, making the air around them tremble and shake, giving them an arcane vibe. Their armour resembled a mix of stag (deer) and man. Their helmets leapt almost a metre up in the air, the gold richly detailed to seem like fur, the horns point-sharp as spears, and the helmets were visor-less. The chestplate too was touched by gold, runes and scripts carved into the central line from throat to pelvis, and on the sides of it, golden fur. The guard's spines were protected by a series of blunt plates, which seemed as if it was the spine of a dragon, erupting from the otherwise beautiful "fur" of the armour. The upper part of their arms were spared of armour, to grant more freedom with their movement of arms, and the gauntlets resembled hooves, easily used as blunt melee weapons, capable of piercing most helmets or skulls, should they be disarmed. Their boots resembled hooves as well, and their legs were covered in a white robe, with a red line from pelvis down to the floor, vertically. In their hands now, swords, crossed between the merchants, and Cythraul.
The spokesman of the elven merchants spat upon the closest guard, and not a moment passed before his throat was squeezed by the Deerman, his feet leaving the ground as the Kingsguard moved his arm upwards.

"Have that one's tongue, and send the three of them to the dungeon, I will not have any merchants stirring unrest in my kingdom." Cythraul commanded, as two of his guards marched off with the protesting merchants, and the third guard slit the "spitter's" tongue out with a gilded knife, and accompanied the others to the dungeons.
"Was that justice, or your way of showing Duwdewml you have arrived?" Tankred said, as he faced his father.
Cythraul looked back at him, his eyes grave and cold. "Both. Join me, Prince." He said, as he rose from the chair, with some help of the closest Kingsguard, and begun walking into the gardens. Tankred had no choice but to follow.

The gardens were astounding, masses of tame birds and smaller sorts of animals lived out their lives in the shades of the massive palm trees above them. Small ponds and streams of fresh water flew throughout, and various types of fish swam around in the shallow water, their scales glittering when bits of sun found it's way past the palm trees and down into the water, turning the garden into a cascade of colours.
Tankred studied his father, he wore a white tunic, with the Rhyfelwyr Stag embroidered upon it's back. His trousers were of brown, tanned leather, and instead of boots he wore sand-coloured sandals, revealing pale feet to the sun. Even though his age crept up on him, Cythraul walked with his back straight, and head held high, he seemed to feel good, if not for the eternal frown upon his face.
"I trust the voyage was pleasant father?" Tankred asked ironically, anything must have been better than crossing that damned desert."Your marriage is postponed until the last of the elves journey here." Cythraul completely ignored the question. He turned his head to look at his son. "That does not however mean you are to spread your seed in Duwdewml. Your betrothed is here in the palace, and you are to stay here as well."
"That's more like Haearn, father." Cythraul gave him a cold look. Tankred sighed."Yes father, I will remain in the palace."
The hint of a smile passed Cythraul's lips, but it vanished before any could see it."I am to speak with more of these damned nobles, you should go learn your vows." Cythraul shoo'ed Tankred away, and Tankred bowed and begun walking back towards the exit of the garden.
"Psst, look Tankred." Tankred simply managed to turn his head, before something threw itself at him, and they both fell into the shallow water, Tankred swallowed water, and screams could be heard from around.He looked up, with stinging eyes from the salt water, at the elf seated upon him, for it was an elf, no doubt about that. His head clean-shaven, exposing his long ears to the air completely, and his skin yellow, and eyes green. In his hands, Tankred saw the shape of a dagger.
Then he felt a sudden shock of pain flow through his body. He tried screaming, but all he managed was to suck in air. His legs kicked with pain, and he arched his back, as he tried desperately to fill his burning lungs with air, and at the same time cough up the water in them.

In what feels like a lifetime later, the elf disappeared off of him, and in the wet dirt beside the stream, a wild Stag had leapt at the elf, the stag shone as if made of gold, and only when four other stags arrived, and begun stabbing the elf in the belly with their longswords, did Tankred realize it was his father's Kingsguard.

The world faded, the pain burned in his chest, and he dimly saw a red mist follow the stream. His vision faded, the sounds slowly died out. The last he heard in consciousness was his fathers commandments.

"Lock down the entire palace. No one gets in or out of here, and get me his betrothed here."
Tankred knew they would obey his father, everyone always obeyed his father.

And the world vanished.

Arcanicus and King Telmor
The Hall was big and mostly empty. Enormous marble pillars spiralled up to the ceiling and splinters of morning sunlight broke through the shadows in the Hall. On either side, dozens of guards clad in crimson plates, lined with silver, stood silent and expressionless. Each carried a long, vicious looking pike, some draped with the white hourglass banner of House Udiryan. Telmor sat upon the throne on a raised platform, casually and slouching, much to the discontent of his advisers. The Generals and members of the royal guard joined him on the platfotm, lining the steps and spaces either side of the King. Other ministers had been granted spaces on the balconies along the hall, where dozens more crimson warriors stood motionless with bows at the ready. Even more were on standby in nearby chambers. Eventually, he arrived. The doors swung open and one of the Covenants servanta scurried in, leaving Telmor to gaze expectantly upon the door. As the doors opened, a blinding light trapped those who entered, cloaking them from preying eyes, but just for a couple of seconds, until they were finally revealed. Arcanicus's silver elven skin was mostly covered by his plate golden armor, layered with glass. He wore no helmet, thus showing his dark hair which grew during his journey, now kept in a ponytail on his back. Close to him was his only seeker bodyguard, Silanus. He was clouded in his dark leather armor, that masked his face entirely. He had too many sheathes on his armor for one to count. They both walked forward, with Arcanicus in the lead. As he approached King Telmor, he begun to speak, properly bowing before him.
“King Telmor Udiryan, unifier of realms and ruler of the covenant, it is a pleasure to see your highness with my very own eyes.” he let out a smile before raising from the ground. The man that stood before Telmor was somewhat of a disappointment. He had expected a large, extravagant elf that clearly enjoyed his food. What he saw was a pleasant alternative. He looked at the man with undeniable intrigue as plates shifted on the balconies and bow strings were plucked at lightly, nervously.
"What is it that you seek, my lord?" Telmors voice erupted from the silence and shattered it as the King of the Covenant stared somewhat smugly at the smiling Elven man.
"I seek peace, prosperity and equality" he said, a little louder than usual.
"The Arcosiceni pact believes that all the elves of Seraak should live peacefully, with their rules, traditions and religion - united under one banner." displeasant whispers were heard from all around the hall, but no one was committed to say anything.
"I have two offers for you, king Telmor. The first consists of you letting elven lords and diplomats rule over the elves in Covenant, having full authority over the elven population but directly serving you. You could have that, or you could slowly start deporting the elves of the Covenant back to the elven isles. Whatever you choose, our kingdom will reward yours with riches beyond measure, and you will have our eternal friendship and alliance."
He smirked slyly, awaiting an answer from the proud king. Telmor met the mans sly gaze cooly and casually. He did not think the man to be serious.
"Let you rule my Elven populace, so you can spread your message and destroy me from the inside, or strengthen you whilst weakening myself by handing over a third of my population?" He chuckled. "When I let you into my keep I did not expect such outrageous proposition, even from a Lord as bold as yourself." He sighed deeply and looked to his ministers, all of which either shook their heads or looked around lost. "The answer is no, my Lord. I have a third option, which is to deny the first two. You do not have my back against a wall here. No such agreement will be struck. Here, the Elves of the Covenant are at home amongst their people. You have no right to claim them regardless of your beliefs. Now if you have something meaningful to say, I would advise you to speak up soon, before I have to ask you to leave." Arcanicus angrily looked up to the covenant king I expected as much from a pesky northerner.
He slowly turned around and started leaving the hall. When he was about to exit, he spoke one last time:
"One day, you're going to regret turning down such generous offers. That day, when your walls shatter and your lords cower in fear, you'l wish you had us on your side." there was a brief moment of silence, adrenaline built up around the hall. Arcanicus calmed himself down before he went out of hand
"Keep your ships away from my seas and trade routes, or they'l be turned to wrecks. Conduct further diplomacy with my king..." he tilted his head quickly towards Silanus "We're done here." and so they left the room, ignoring the court's comments.

The Colonists and the Rebels
The desert's hellish temperature could be felt among all of the colonists. With the summer's arrival, the colonists had to remove their armors and use mere cheap cloth. The wild tribes grew restless, raiding and pillaging newly raised settlements among the coastline while waging war on grander scales in the desert frontier. Carl, the leader of the colonists had to retreat twice in the spring, and it was about to get worse during to summer. He had already lost too much land to the tribes, but with the reinforcements Aqer crafted him, the colonists could now resist for longer. In his grand tent, he was examining the war map of Shadya Desert, when the voice of a solider grabs his attention.

"Commander, Lord Volthon's arrived at your request" he bowed and paved the way for the rebel leader.
"Lord Volthon!" Carl shouts, with a smirk on his face while turning from the map "I hope your travels were safe. How fares your rebellion?" "We are surviving." Volthor said, removing his hood and mask as he entered the shelter of the tent.
"We have many supporters and spies in the cities, and with luck, our siege on Jerath will be successful, cutting off the enemies water supply. However, after that battle, we shall need more men. I guess it will last a week. How do you fare?" He asked, stroking his large grey beard, which ran down to his chest. He was 65 years of age, most of those had been spent ruling Sondheim. He had been a friend of the colonists long before he was dethroned, and hoped to help them in these troubling times.

"Better" he replied as he started circling around the room "I used my father's death as an excuse for more troops. Last year I lost over 2000, but now 5,000 more arrive from all across the islands." he looked at Volthor, he seemed troubled, and Carl tried understanding why. Volthor was winning the war, however he was not fighting tribesmen, he was fighting his own men, men he once cared for. "I have arranged a large convoy for you to use - a quarter of the gold dug up last ear, Aqer won't notice. This will hopefully fuel the war and hasten your victory."
Volthor remained speechless for a couple of seconds, probably amazed by Carl's gift. "But make no mistake, old king. I want your war to end, and you to fulfill your part of the bargain." He gave Volthor an angry look "Are we clear?"
"When I am king, you will have your reinforcements. But do not test me, or be to anxious. This war will take time and
planning." Volthor said, matching his angry tone.
"And know that if you betray me, you will regret it." Volthor said. He was a friend to this land, but did not trust Carl, not as much as those who he had negotiated the peace between these two nations with.

The Sunsfly Brothers
Lord Regent Aqer was eating at his large council table alongside his sister and brother. The food was how it always had been in the Chariot Palace – expensive, luxurious, rare. The finest fish of the south, fresh grapes, imperial meat and many exquisite elven delicacies. The old regent enjoyed his food, but did not touch the wine, for he knew how bad it was for his old health. His younger brother drank and ate lavishly, knowing that he is yet young for an elf, even at his age of 180 years. Razyia was even younger, and her beauty was unmatched. She was Renzio's bastard daughter, but the regent and the chief loved her nonetheless. She didn't share that love, and she was very vocal about her opinions.

“I wonder-” she said, with half of her mouth filled with food, and her head turned to Aqer. She swallowed and continued “How someone so idiotic could become King”. Aqer kept eating, paying her little mind. “Watch it there, Razyia. He may be your uncle but he is the lord Regent.”. Renzio approached his daughter and whispered “Not king, mind you” “And what have I done to receive such insults?” Aqer asked reluctantly, as he kept eating. “Where should I start, dear uncle...” Renzio chuckled “You give those rebels 5,000 men so that they steal with more ease from under our noses. And you plan to marry me off into the Butcher's family.” Before Aqer could answer, Renzio stuck his fork into the table “Marry her off!? Since when is she you're daughter? She will marry if I want her to marry.” Razyia widely smiled. “Her marriage will be out of necessity, not pleasure. And the men I sent to the colonies will help us win over the tribesmen and continue flourishing.”
“The colonist keep loosing land with or without reinforcements. We are wasting capable solders on the wrong desert. Menkauhor has ten times as much gold as Shadya.” he took a sip from his glass.
“And,” Razyia continued “From what I gathered, I will be married to Arcanicus's uncle. An old virgin that has not seen a twat since the day he was born. I swear I could smell his stench from here. There is a reason he wasn't married for 200 years, you know?” Gracefully, Aqer placed his fork and knife on the table, and calmly spoke to his family “By marring Andaril, we shall have the everlasting support of the Arcos family. You will secure Taharka for us, making sure that if the Usurper raises his armies again, which mind you are larger than ours, he will have no help from his uncle.” “But...” she was at a loss for words
“Can't I marry one of the younger members? Why am I to be sold to an old man? Why don't you marry off Arcanicus's aunt?”
“She's a widdow, my dear...” Renzio replied.
“And I'm celibate...” there were minutes of silence as the servants cleared the table “Very well, you will marry one of Arcanicus's cousins, you will spread your legs and you will breed children of our name but with the Blood of the Kings”. Razyia was very surprised by Aqer's words “A matrilineal marriage?” Aqer nodded “Yes. Now, leave us. Me and your father have something to discuss” She bowed and left the room. Aqer stroke his long beard before his angered brother “You're right with the marriage, but you should have told me...That doesn't mean you're entirely correct, though. You want us allied to the murdering crusaders of Clan War-Blade? They are the reason our elven counterparts in Sondheim are dead! And..and you give so many elves to the colonies.”
Aqer stood silent, and somewhat saddened by the points his brother made “You do it for her, don't you?” Renzio spoke, raising off from the table, with his hands on his back. He started circling around the table. “It's true what they say...Arcanicus's wife layed with you.” Aqer angrily rose up from his chair and walked to his brother “She might even carry your chi-” his words were stopped as Aqer punched his face. “I placed our family in these halls, so that we may rule as kings. I gave you coin, power and titles so that you may drink your life away. You want to know how I did this? I had courage. Courage to step up to that murderer and stop him. There were 700 elves in the halls, you included, but I was the only one that stood strong to my will. I will not be questioned by a fool and a coward.” Renzio wasn't too hurt from the blow as he was for what Aqer said. “Brother...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-” Aqer turned his back and headed to his chambers “No more. Actions speak louder than words, Renzio.”

Where the road goes
After he exited the halls with such a ruckus, Arcanicus walked slowly around the city, troubled by past events. Silanus interrupted his silence “Where are we going know, my lord?” he asked, holding his head down, trying best to conceal his appearance to the many eyes of Dawnhold. Arcanicus's voice was a little louder, as it was hard to hear through the noises of the market “We march west, to Blacklight. I have some matters to discuss with the Blood King” “Blood King? Are you talking about the ruler of the Supremacy, my lord?” “Yes, Blood King is a common nickname in the southern courts and taverns. They say he feasts on human flesh, suffers from unnatural behavior and that he became King through intimidation and slaughter.” Silanus rose an eyebrow. “You sound like you admire him, my lord” The elf frowned as they walked past the docks” “I respect him. Whether the rumors are true or not, he accomplished something that my king didn't.” “Your king, my lord. You know who I serve.” Arcanicus rolled his eyes as he sighed silently. “The docks are over there, my lord...” he complied pointing the shipyard the two have crossed. “We're not going to the decks, but to the stables. I want to see how the Supremacy is doing in times of war.” Silanus was displeased, Arcanicus could see that through his mask “My lord...there is no ship that goes to Raven Rock from Blacklight. I urge you reconsider” Arcanicus chuckled “I'm sure you'll find your way back. You are a seeker after all.”