[center]__________Vespar__________ Nyirr[/center] A wide grin crossed Sir Elric's face, perhaps the first genuine smile in some time. "Word that Nyirr of the Tower has joined our cause will no doubt boost the men's confidence," Sir Elric started as he motioned for Nyirr and Nitia to follow him as he spoke on, "and a mage is certainly welcomed." "It's been a long time since I've seen you Nyirr, since just after the great war I believe," Sir Elcric stated as he went on to reminisce about battles waged against Malfear. He recounted a few stories of great victory or great defeat and spoke of a few battles Nyirr himself had participated in, some of which the two had shared each others company. As he spoke of the campaign long past the two twisted and turned through the streets of Vespar until they arrived to the inner wall. Perched on a small hill with the coast to it's back, the lower walls extended in a small proximity around a rudimentary keep. Large portions of the wall where worn from recent sieges, and indeed the keep itself was in no better condition. Vespar was never designed as a fortress, it was a city first and foremost with the keep and walls to act as a home and protection for whichever family governed the city. For as small as it was however, the keep was placed in a key strategic location. With the coast guarding it's back, two of the remaining sides were cliffs with steep rocky faces. The only path which allowed acsess to the keep twisted and turned along the remaining face of the hill, any approaching army would be funneled onto a narrow ramp and subject to arrow fire during the entire ascent. Guards were posted everywhere, most of them wielding either cheap crossbows, hunting bows or makeshift spears. Very few of Sir Elrics men could afford the protection of iron or steel armor and so most were dressed in simple clothes or linen Gambesons in a ragtag assortment of colors, indeed Sir Elrics army looked very much like an outfit of misfits, but they smiled and a few cheered at the sight of Sir Elric and Nyirr making the ascent. It appeared Nyirr, perhaps even more than Sir Elric, had the favor of common men who infatuated themselves with the heroes of wars past. Inside the keep Sir Elric led the duo into a private hearth, roomy but cluttered with miscellaneous things. Bits and peices to crossbows, maps and letters. The very room they stood in had served as the headquarters for the Republics army for some time, with it's great general, Sir Elric working tirelessly in the confines of a room not a fraction the size of the throne rooms of other lords. Sir Elric spoke to Nyirr again, changing from the plain conversations of earler to a more serious tone now that they were alone. "Honestly Nyirr, I wished you hadn't come," Sir Elric sighed as he walked to a large table in the center of the room with a great map of contested Valaria sprawled across its surface. Sir Elric then began to explain his sentiment as he moved his finger about and around various pieces atop the map, "The truth is i've been cornered. The Valeans are pushing in from the east, Theron from the north all while Myres sits waiting to the west. Our only way out is through the ocean, but we haven't enough ships for us all, and worse still I fear if I surrender Vespar I won't be able to gain another foothold in Valaria." Sir Elric's seemed to lose himself in though upon looking at the map and his voice trailed off. He stood for some time in silence before he spoke, but his eyes never left the pieces, "Do you know the great thing about fighting for a republic? If Theron dies his cause dies with him. If Myres dies his does as well," Sir Elric then turned to look squarely at Nyirr. "If I die, anyone can raise another banner. Nyirr, i've been cornered and my only goal now is to take Theron's head. This is going to be a fight to the death." [center]__________Raven, Genshal and Nyirr__________[/center] Sir Doyle had heard reports of desertion running rampant among Lord Theron's army, and while that had been some measure of reassurance what information he was learning now was infinitely more welcomed. The news that the bulk of Theron's army has been redirected to deal with the Valean's to the north was a great weight lifted off Doyle's chest, now they had a fighting chance. The information Raven had brought forth caused some deal of distress however. It was a map of the city, an accurate one at that, furthermore it listed and numbered important buildings sprawled throughout the city. Doyles face flustered with frustration, for a map this detailed and recent to be in Kensal's camp meant one thing, there was a spy in the city other than Raven and in the service of the enemy. Another peice of paper had a drawing of the east wall scribbled upon it, in high detail and showing it's construction with intimate line work with seven names written on the sides. Doyle once again looked at the map of the city. The east wall was as structurally sound as the other but it was also the closest to the Keep, making it a favorable target. It wasn't any new information as they had expected the majority of any assault would come through the East Wall, what concerned him however was how detailed the creator had made the wall's construction. Sir Doyles eyes lit up with revelation and he turned from the stolen documents to face the mercenary and spy both. "You two come with me, Sir Elric may be interested in seeing you," Sir Doyle concluded simply as they were guided out of the gatehouse and towards the keep. On the way to the keep Raven suddenly realized something curious about the maps she recovered. Frist, the map of the city was highly detailed with a legend listing the names of the buildings as well as a number on the map corresponding to the name. She remembered noticing that for some reason the number two was circled. While it may not have been anything, it was important in her line of work to notice such small oddities. Similarly, she remembered the names scrawled across the second map of the wall. An odd mix of names she attributed to perhaps a mercenary team hired for the particular operation Lord Kensal had planned, but now she began to wonder if there was perhaps some correlation between the circled number two and the odd mix of names. She recalled the names in her head: Avuan Laesan Ingfal Remest Usnari Elsinn Agronn Avreus Uptairi Stiix Akit Errakpuh Aism Linn As they maneuvered through the town, Raven appeared consumed in thought and strolling just behind Sir Doyle. Doyle himself seemed lost in thought. It was for this reason Genshal noticed something queit curious as they walked along. They had crossed a small bridge going over a stream running through a part of the city, and as they did so Genshal saw a man with a bow searching the creek bed for something, and it was only when the man realized Genshal was watching as they passed did he stop and lock eyes with the mercenary, his eyes were wide with anxiety and even from this distance Genshal noticed his rapid breathing. When the man caught sight of Raven he left the creek bed in quiet rush. It was not long after that they entered the keep and left waiting outside one of the rooms as Doyle proceeded in. After a moment or so, they were allowed entry where they saw Sir Doyle folding papers and putting them away and out of sight from the mercenary and spy, but seated at the table were two new faces, Sir Elric and Nyirr. [center]__________Snowheart, Capital of Ferros_________ Skye[/center] Awaiting Skye was a small accompaniment of soldiers, five exactly, one of which was a guardian whom Skye recognized. It appeared guardian's were too scarce to be spared, even for the Archmage's son, but the guardian tasked with watching the boy was competent enough. His name was Joran and he bowed at Skye's approach with a soft spoken, "Welcome my young lord, we'll be leaving immediately." The soldiers wore armor of blackened steel laid over chainmail, cuts and scrapes scattered over their plate was a testament to their experience. Over some of their armor was thick cloth padding with fur sewn in around the neck and they towered mightily over everyone as they sat atop their steeds, one of them carrying the banner of Ferros at his side as it flapped wildly in the mountain wind. Just as the Guardian had done they all acknowledged the boy by lowering their heads in a bow. Among their number was a spearman wearing a kettle helm, A crossbowman outfitted in boiled leather opposed to the heavy plate of his companions, the banner man with a shield on his back and a sword at his side and the fourth soldier was a woman with sword and shield as well. When the young lord had settled himself on his horse they began their journey through the city catching the eyes of all as they passed. They left the city and traveled up a wide path climbing the face of a nearby mountain, and on the top of the path a section of the mountain had been cut away to act as a passageway over the mountain range. Up here the air was wild and ever more chilling then back home, and Snowheart, the grand jewel of Ferros could be covered with a thumb. Snow was falling gently and the sky and the morning mist of the valley was beginning to recede. From this height the valley could be veiwed in all it's splendor. The Ferronians used terrace farming on the sides of the mountain, their main crop being a purple leafed vegetable which thrived the mountainous climate. It was for this reason the valley was sometimes called the Violet Valley. Indeed as the mist retreated the sun climbed into the morning sky and basked the valley in light. The clouds above them swirled in vivid reds and yellows of the sunrise and at their feet the valley illuminated and glistened in a brilliant violet as it's namesake implied. As some of the soldiers looked upon their country in awe one of them joked to the others, "You won't be gone forever, we'll be back in a few months." They bid farewell as they turned and led themselves down the path, putting their home behind them. The mountain pass was guarded by great towers of stone and not a moment passed were they not watched by a hundred eyes. During this time Joran spoke again to Syke, "There's another soldier waiting for us at Schuyler post, he'll be our guide through the Valarian wilderness." [center]__________Somewhere in the Valarian Wilderness__________ Emil and Edessa[/center] There was no warcry, no signal and no warning. The first man was killed when a theif, unseen, dropped from above having hidden himself on a thicker branch. He landed on one of the mercenaries and pulled him off his horse as they both fell. The wrestled in the mud for but a moment before the thief brought a dagger up and plunged into the mercenaries shoulder, in return the man screamed in agony but quickly drew his own blade and sunk it into the assailants neck, releasing a torrent of blood as he removed the blade and the theif fell to his side clasping his throat trying in vain to keep from bleeding out. In the fraction of a moment this happened the thieves poured out from the forest and a flurry of bolts and arrows flew at the caravan. One of the men rode out to meet his foes but was struck down by a bolt through the armpit as he raised his blade, his body fell limp and was dragged by the stirrup as his horse ran in fright into the fog. The sound of steel striking steel clanged through the forest as the theives and guard's crossed blades. A few of the unprotected merchants were quickly cut down and butchered, but the carriage of the ambassador was swarmed by soldiers giving their lives to protect a single man. A crazed axeman raced towards Gaarth but was struck down by a mighty swing. Gaarth brought his blade crashing into the side of the theif's face with a loud crack of a breaking skull. The thief collapsed with half of his face cleaved and blood and brains seeping out the wound, Gaarth went to position his horse to face the oncoming attackers but his horse was struck through the eye by an arrow and cried as it went down. Gaarth was lucky to avoid the weight of the horse from crushing his leg, but he met the ground with a violent crash. As he was beginning to stand a thief was bull rushing him from the rear, spear in hand and ready to skewer the mercenary, Emil was close enough that he may be able save the man. Arrows continued to fly in, and although the under armed thieves were being cut down in greater numbers than the falling guards, they would quickly be overwhelmed if the archers weren't dealt with. Edessa could now see the feint shapes of the bowmen through the fog, there weren't many but they were able to fire upon the caravan unmolested. [center]________Somewhere in the Gorgon Swamplands________ Lucien and Itzil[/center] "The Blackwater son escaped," One of the Gorgonite soldiers explained as a cloaked figure carefully stepped over the bodies, examining the faces of each of the fallen. "From the Gorgon Rangers as well? What a surprise," said the cloaked individual, his voice bearing the tone of a man. He stopped over one body, the corpse of one of Lucien's men and pondered over the sight of it. He drew back his hood for a clearer look, revealing a middle-aged man with his long black hair kept tied off neatly in the rear of his head. his name was Lorian but some called him the Huntsman. Over the years him and others like him had been given the task rooting out those conspiring against the crown. In some cases it was a more covert affair, dealing with the inner workings of a particular lord's court, but in other cases such as this it was a more direct affair. Finally he remarked, "Was it necessary to waste so many arrows on a single man?" The soldier squirmed in place, "Some of them just refused to die." Lorian was silent and circled the corpse in examination, but quickly brushed the comment off his mind. He turned to the soldier and inquired, "Anything else?" "We found their camp, they retreated and led us straight to it." "Good, we can finally end this nuisance. The last of the Blackwaters, what a thrilling feeling it'll be when he lays dead." **** The scouts guarding the camp were disposed of easily enough, as common folk, even trained by Lucien Blackwater lack the abilities of a true Gorgon Ranger. A mass of men had trekked tirelessly through the swamp to encircle the small camp and they waited patiently as they observed their target the way a leopard might watch its prey. Then with a little fire a signal was lit and shot into the air, and with that the rangers and soldiers of Gorgon drew their bows and unleashed a torrent of arrows upon the fringes of the camp. The rebels themselves were quick to return fire however, and as some of the Gorgon troops waded through the murky water they were shot down and claimed by the swamp. Rebels rushed out to meet the attackers and as a rebel soldier rushed a ranger, the ranger ducked and sent his shoulder into the rebels knee and lifted, causing the rebel flip wildly over the ranger. Another rebel ran wildly with an axe raised in the air but tumbled forward violently as an arrow pierced his chest. Another two men were fighting each other before a burning tent when the victor plunged his blade into the other's leg and kicked him into the flames. Swords clashed and slowly but methodically the Gorgon soldiers began to cut their way into the camp. They torched the tents they passed, paying no mind who might still be inside. The camp while home to the rebels was also a place for refuge for families struck by the plight of the Brair's kingship, but the oncoming soldiers showed no remorse as they struck people down indiscriminately. "Find him!" one of the Gorgon's shouted, "Find Lucien!" [center]_________Somewhere in the Valean Countryside__________ Kotori, Tegan and Alaric[/center] “What happened here? How did it become like this? Who was it that these… men have just executed?” "Madness has happened!" the old man exclaimed in a hushed whisper. He downcast his eyes and shifted uncomfortably as he explained what had happened, "Rumor had spread that the youngest child of the family had been practicing magic, the girl. It was only ever a rumor but it spread like wildfire! Some of us with more sense tried to talk reason into people, we thought Mages of the Tower should be called to investigate, but the others were more fearful." The old man then looked Alaric in the eyes, "There was already hate and mistrust towards the family, but no one thought to resort to violence they just wanted them run out of town, but one of them sent word to the Order and everything changed when those damned men came into the town! They stirred up the people, made us all fearful! They didn't have to drag that family from their home, the townsfolk did it for them. My own neighbors, people I know are decent people turned to dogs when there was word of a mage. So the Order asked where the little girl was but the parents had hidden her away out of fear. When they refused to tell where she was, the Order persecuted the family and riled up the people!" The old man frowned, his eyes teared with disbelief and horror, he looked out to the stakes and the crowd and began to cry," I never thought it would turn to this. I know those people, they are decent people but they're fearful, and the Order his perpetuating their fears." Tegan spoke up, "Are there any more people in this village that are in danger of being killed? We could take them to safety." The old man was silent for a moment, unsure if he should involve himself any further, but finally he gave in to morality, "They never found the little girl. I don't know where she is if she's even still here at all, but the Order is turning this town inside out looking for her. They lived on the west side of town, but the home is in ruin after they've burnt it," his eyes caught a few of the crowd turning to note the strange horsemen who had just ridden in, then fear struck his face, "Really, you need to go now. They shouldn't see me with you," he finished as he closed the door. From her rooftop position, Kotori could nine soldiers of the Order. Seven of which were gathered around the crowd, the one who was giving his sermon of hate was still speaking and the crowd was still howling. A few streets down Kotori noticed two other soldiers of the Order going door to door and inspecting the homes. The homes which refused them had thier doors smashed and the occupants thrown out until the search was complete. There was a smaller number of townsfolk following the pair and watching them search the homes, some of them were the blood thirsty sort from the stake burnings, but most were watching with fear or contempt that their homes were being invaded in such a manner. Whatever action the group might decide to take, it was apparent they would need to handle the situation with tact.