[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/7HlmcQK.png[/img]
[h3]Yorum 2: Loralom[/h3][/center]

[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sX8NdGhi0hc]The streets between buildings were mud here.[/url] The main roads were laid with crunching yellow gravel. Between the two, where they walked, was tracked with brown dirt, footprints, and then a beggar in a rough blanket.

Edda drew her eyes up from the infirm hain's begging bowl and to the buildings. They had already passed the simple stone and mud houses of the common folk and were now flanked by circular granite columns, fronting granite manors of well-off Loralom hain. Edda hoped in vain that her group -- led by the guards that met them on the beach -- would be the only stain of suffering on this community that they had found. She was wrong.

Here, in front of the homes of the well and wealthy, men with handfuls of weapons and shields were running past them in groups. Other, taller hain men in padded quilt clothing, embraced their children and partners quickly before taking up arms and jogging ahead of Edda's group. The nobles were the soldiers.

Edda knew that they were preparing to fight, though the families were not in such a state as the peaceful sending their sons off to war. They were blank-faced, tense, hands clasped. The children reflected their parents. They listlessly wandered back into their homes. Not before giving Edda lingering stares.

"Edda?"

"Yes Feri?" The hain mother in their group spoke behind Edda with her eggs clutched to her chest. Edda knew her by voice.

"Why do they look so lost? Why are they not weeping at their partners' marching?"

Edda speculated. "The guard said that this land is littered with cracked shells. These people have likely seen many more than they can weep about."

"But the poorer folk further back, they were the same and they were just the farmers, potters, and other tradesmen. They aren't fighting."

Edda didn't have an answer to that. They could have merely expended all their fighting men. Or there could be another reason for their odd behaviour.

What disturbed Edda was that this little town was looking more and more like Xerxes by the day. Not the hopeful, flourishing Xerxes. Not the strong and diverse metropolis. It was in the eyes of its inhabitants. They had seen more than their share of suffering.

Ahead was a wall, mortared smooth and too high to climb, even for the trolls. They were walking to a tall set of double-doors that were creaking apart at their approach. Beyond was the largest manor of all. A multi-storied palace with a colonnaded facade, low-pitched tiled roofs, and balconies on each wing.

Even with the impression it made, this great house did not hold a candle up to the palace at Xerxes when it was in its full glory. Nevertheless, the guard pointed ahead with his mace and spoke his phlegmatic language with pride. Edda recognised a word from when the man had previously mentioned his king.

The guard seemed to ignore the warriors gathering here. They all had eyes lingering on Edda's form. Edda looked back. She realised that she was being watched all this time. Every single face she saw had the same expression. The same silent look. She felt like a wraith; she shouldn't exist.

Any conversation was drowned by her presence. They clacked their feet onto the flat stones of the porch. The wind eddied in behind them to brush at the dead silence. A distant, deep barking sounded from over the walls from a dog. The fluttering drone of a tiny bird buzzed over their heads. The warriors' feet shifted on the courtyard to keep watching Edda ahead of her group. They watched her step up and into the main hall. At least there was speech echoing out from where they were headed.

[i]"Ki ghet achet zenna khey?"[/i] One figure in the centre of the dim hall was speaking to his uniformed advisor as servants dressed him in regal, dyed padding. He was clearly in charge, but he was young. Perhaps five years younger than Edda, she guessed. [i]"Ie kiln di czheriaz aot di roet. Du zat nisht loze forirum liz zey zenna karekt!"[/i]

The advisor remained neutral, far calmer than the leader. [i]"Yem, zar merik. Carm zos nyorga-s."[/i]

[i]"Yem, Iyem. Shen zer-"[/i] The leader stopped. His head twitched in their direction. The same silence as the courtyard permeated in the hall. He stared and Edda stared back. Edda felt like a wraith again.

The servants were lucky to already be done dressing the leader in an ornate headdress and flowing blue cape, else they would have been just as transfixed as were in that moment.

The leader's voice spoke low to nudge the stillness, not break it. [i]"Wor lom stiz?"[/i]

After a kneel, the warrior escort of the group said some words back.  The leader did not shift his gaze. He took a step towards Edda, cautious, and another. He reached out one hand until he placed a finger on the end of Edda's beak. She knew from her reflection that one of the Tounic symbols was what he was running his finger over. 

Apart from a blink, Edda's reaction was still and unsure. She could understand why she would get such looks. It didn't mean there was anything she could do about it.

A crash of wood turned all their heads to a side door. One hain warrior stumbled in and shouted more foreign words in alarm.

The leader stepped back and raised one index finger to Edda. He said more words, took up a fine bronze mace, and strode briskly around the group to the doors.

They were left inside with the advisor, looking at them with more purpose than any they had seen in this town.

[hr]
"You wish to view the battle, Edda?" Tokgos related, by way of a local hain chipper named Renan, by way of the king's advisor Korom. Without Caress in the city, they could only translate via an old trade language. "He says that there is a platform that looks over the walls. King Akol's wife stands there to watch every time there is a fight near the walls."

Edda had eaten her bread and cheese so quickly that she felt nauseous. It didn't stop her resolve. "I am sure. Please ask Korom to lead me there."

Three languages of translation later and Korom faced Edda directly. He nodded and beckoned with a hand facing sideways.

"We will stay here, Edda," Tokgos said for himself. "I cannot fit up those stairs."

The others in Edda's group were concerned to see her leave. They had been spoken to as well but no amount of encouragement would placate them from Edda, their stable leader, leaving their sight. Regardless, Edda gave them all one last look before leaving. She had to see the situation for herself.

'Platform' was a word almost lost in translation. In reality, Edda was lead to one of the palace balconies. The only other figure was a hain woman up against the balustrade, looking out at the cleared fields beyond the town. She turned her head suddenly, startled. Korom's presence made her relax her elbows and eyes.

Much to Edda's surprise, the woman did not give her a long look like the others. She merely turned back to watching the field without a word. Her eyes narrowed with the sadness that Edda had expected of the families she had seen on the way up to the gates.

"You must be the king's wife," Edda said, stepping up to the balustrade and looking out. "Is he leading the battle today? He must be very brave."

The wife gave Edda a fleeting, oblivious look. Edda sighed that the interpreters weren't here.

[i]"Tiss,"[/i] the wife pointed out a brown-grey plume rising from the distance. Edda could just make out groups of hain, marching in formation, behind large oval shields. They both stood quietly to hear the clomping of the enemy approaching.

A long horn sounded.

From the town, faster footsteps echoed out as hundreds of hain spilt out onto the field to face the enemy. They fell into formation themselves, armed with maces, shields, and poles with lazily floating red flags. The second rank soldiers of every block were also armed with spears, poking out from the top of the rows of flitting white hain beaks.

The enemies neared. They were made up of similar formations, save for being joined by some hain with bows at their rear lines. Edda did not have to be a seasoned commander to see the problem: The defenders were vastly outnumbered.

The hain near the town were only one block of soldiers thick. She could not make out the raw numbers, though Edda could count half again as many warriors approaching as the defenders had. Matters were made worse when the attackers were joined behind by a tedar holding four leashes. [url=http://i.imgur.com/tJfzY5W.jpg]The beasts that he held were each the size of four hain put together, snarling, muscular, and sporting large heads covered in tusks.[/url]

Edda clutched her red-marked fingers around the balustrade.

Any regular hain would have run in a blink. They could defend from the streets more easily, even a few wicker and thatch roofs would be set ablaze. They stood their ground until it was too late to form up with the buildings as bottlenecks. Their actions were instead contradictory to all reason; they began to bark.

Hain did not normally bark like dogs. The sound that came from their beaks was an imitation of hounds baying at passers-by. They still did not flinch from the oncoming force.

The enemy raised their weapons in an amused shout, beating their shields and readying their charge.

The defenders remained barking.

It was when the enemy broke into a run, loosening their formations, that the defenders' barking became loud and deep. Each bark was a thump against Edda's chest, even from where she stood, and there was a cacophony of them. It could not have been the hain.

The enemy was closing in. Those at the front were not discouraged by the baying.

The running increased.

Spears lowered.

Rocks on ropes were spun and launched, cutting down some in the enemy front line.

Wheels trundled?

Edda swept her gaze to speeding shapes on either flank. More beasts had sprung out from the tall grass at the edges of the defending lines. They were running at such a gallop that their shapes could hardly be discerned beyond their shaggy grey hair, flopping ears, and the chariots being pulled from behind them. They were the ones barking. Gigantic hounds, larger still than the beasts the enemy tedar kept.

There were two riders in each chariot. One was holding the reins of the giant hound and the other was swinging a set of stones lashed by cords. When they were thrown, they spun wildly until they whipped around the feet of the charging enemy hain, throwing them onto the ground. Others were thrown at the enemy flanks for just long enough for the hounds to close in and tear the life from them with its gleaming teeth, bounding away as quickly.

Retributive arrows were not numerous enough to cut the dogs down, and so the charge had been momentarily blunted. The enemy was in disarray. The defenders charged in.

Between the raining sling stones, the bolas entangling their legs, and the hounds threatening their sides, the enemy found themselves the victim of many easy kills by the defenders. The battle was joined with more hope than before.

Though they were still outnumbered.

Upon an order, the tedar released his snarling boars. They galloped forth as one, knocking aside friend and foe alike in their charge. Hain maces proved useless against their tough hide. Spears only enraged them. Red quickly covered their many tusks as all the defenders could do was try to contain them.

One hound was gored immediately to death, stopping a chariot. Two more hounds had to close in to throw down the beast and kill it.

That left three more. Two were disrupting the enemy lines, one more was chasing chariots. Some chariots spared their allies by leading one of the bloodied creatures away. One more chariot with a hain in a blue cape swung around behind friendly lines. He had an exception to the other chariots' maces and bolas.

The king hefted a long spear over one shoulder. It was tipped with a yellow glint of bronze.

Just as one boar had torn its way through the defending lines, it was met by the hain king's aim. The hound chariot ran past and the king threw the spearhead down behind the giant boar's neck, just as quickly pulling it out. The chariot went on, while the boar staggered to one side, eventually falling and spasming. More hain with spears charged it and slew it outright.

The king's now bloody lance was still poised. There was another boar to slay. This one was already wreaking havoc amongst the slingers. Hain held their arms spread, springing left and right to try and avoid the swinging tusks twisting around between them. Few hain were fast enough, being smashed away or outright impaled through their shells by the beast's strength.

The king closed in, raised his lance, and brought it down. This boar twisted its head to parry the lance and ran its head into the side of the chariot with the backswing. The chariot pitched suddenly, throwing the driver and the king both. 

Edda heard the king's wife take in a sharp gasp. Her elbows bent until she held her hands tightly together and her eyes were nearly popping out.

The king and his driver landed with a slide on the dirt. The king threw away one snapped half of his lance and stood up, coughing.

The boar squealed and charged. The king would have been gored had his giant hound not slammed its head and paws into the side of the boar. It gave time for the king to leap to the side and search for the bronze of his lance. He picked it up and faced the creature. The boar twisted around and raked the hound with the tusks on the side of its head. It charged the king, the king charged back, on foot this time, with half a lance in both hands. Edda could hear the young leader's battle cry scream out in defiance of the death hurtling towards it.

They collided. The spearhead drove directly into the roof of the boar's mouth. The king thrust it so deep that half his arms were between the creature's teeth as his feet scraped backwards to a stop from the boar's momentum. He let go of the lance and stumbled back as the boar paced frantically backwards with its mouth agape. Blood poured down in streams from its lips until it sat on its haunches, panicked. Three more hain spearmen stuck it in its underbelly and it was left to bleed out.

Edda was sure that the king would retreat to find a new mount, but he didn't so much as stop to catch his breath. He drew a bronze mace from a loop on his belt and pointed to a nearby formation, pacing towards it and shouting orders. He was still commanding. 

Upon the king's orders, the defending lines reformed and began to curl. In spite of overwhelming numbers against them, the defenders' shield wall had not broken. Their formation was not as disrupted as the enemy's by the time they met, leaving them stalwart. Now the lines were thinning and changing. Edda could tell from the positions of the red banners that the enemy was being surrounded.

Sling stones were breaking shells from almost every direction. Hound chariots punished any who broke from their allies. The defenders were advancing over more enemy bodies than allies.

When the tedar ran, he did so with only one of his pets remaining. The enemy hain began to break soon after, exhausted from pounding against an impenetrable wall of shields.

Edda was in disbelief at what she had just seen. She had witnessed the beginning of the battle thinking she would have to run back to her friends and try to escape. The king and his army evidently had a plan from the start.

There was a sob from beside Edda. The king's wife had her beak angled upwards in happiness, but every other feature she displayed was sad fear.

"They won," Edda declared. She turned up a palm and placed her other on the wife's shoulder, trying to comfort her, even if she was a stranger that couldn't understand her words. "Your husband must have an eye for battle. I..." Edda halted herself in a new thought.

Her search may not have needed to be as long as she thought.

The wife brought a hand to the side of her head and closed her eyes. Tears beaded down the side of her head. She said some more foreign words and brushed Edda's hand away, turning to walk back into the palace.

[hr]
"Edda, are we going to be kept here forever?" Sakurt asked. The hain man was the fisherman that had essentially saved lives during the journey over the ocean. He addressed Edda with respect. "We do not want to be prisoners here."

Sakurt gestured to the room around the group while he spoke. They had all been locked away when the battle was over, with little in the way of reasons. Edda could only shrug from her chair and offer a guess.

"We will have to see. They probably don't know what to make of us. We're foreigners, after all." Edda offered.

"I think it is more to do with you, Edda." Sakurt extended a hand downwards to gesture at Edda's markings. "You saw how they looked at you. It was as if you were mother Nissel herself and they had only known pain until now."

Edda sighed and looked away. "Mother Nissel is a myth. My mission involves finding a chosen hain to build a better place here. That's real. I'm not the one who is meant to lead everyone."

Sakurt upturned his hand. "No one said that, Edda. Perhaps you might get some help from them, that's all. We just want to make new lives here, though we can only do so much to help you..."

The conversation was interrupted by the large door unlocking and drawing everyone's eyes. Korom the advisor stepped through in his finery. Two servants followed him inside with some neatly folded linen robes, followed by the Renan, the chipper interpreter.

"Edda," Korom said, before giving some level words in Loralom's foreign language.

The translations were ferried over to Tokgos, who was more frank than Korum's tone implied. "You've been invited to dinner, Edda."


[hider=The First Draft of this Post Had Abysmal Exposition. This Was the Best I Could Do]
We return to the hain city-state of Loralom for Half-Yorum 2: Episode Abloobloo, where Mutton hopes that he'll be able to do this arc without it taking a decade.

First of all is a sequence where Edda and her intrepid group are taken through Loralom and see some of its features.

Loralom is a city styled on some ancient Greek influences. There are columns and stone around the place, but it is not nearly as big as Xerxes. The main strongpoint is a small-ish walled palace. Things are constructed mainly from granite.

In Loralom, the nobles are apparently the career soldiers, and they are preparing for a battle. The families, however, seem a bit overwhelmed as if this is becoming a depressingly common routine. The smaller folks are just as depressed and listless.

Everyone stares at Edda with sore eyes. They are in disbelief at her and her markings.

Edda meets the king, named Akol, for a brief moment. He is younger than expected and cannot communicate with Edda because of the language barrier.

Edda's group is fed and sheltered. They eventually find a chipper who knows a language that one of Edda's friends, the troll Tokgos knows, and they set up some rudimentary communication.

Edda wants to see the battle to see how bad things are. She is taken up to a balcony to overlook the edge of town and meets one of King 
Akol's female partners (as yet unnamed). She is a very worried woman, but the troll can't fit on the balcony, so they can't communicate too well.

The battle is joined between Loralom's soldiers and a much larger force that has some crazy huge wild boars tamed by a tedar.

Loralom reveals that they have chariots pulled by massive wolfhounds that wreak havoc as a harrying and shock cavalry 
force.

Through judicious use of slings, bolas, maces, shields, tactics, and such, the defenders are able to disrupt the enemy enough to put them on the back foot. Then the boars are released. They are almost uncontrollable, but they do a lot of damage.

Note that spears, javelins, and arrows are present, but not dominant on the hain battlefield. Their natural armour makes these weapons less effective except against beasts of war. Instead, blunt force weapons are favoured to crack hainshell and disable the enemy.

King Akol rides out on a dog chariot with a rare bronze lance and goes out to slay a couple of the boars. He proves himself to be a hard nut, much to the despair of the worried wife watching.

With the boars dead, the defenders envelop the remaining enemy and outlast them, causing them to break and rout.

Skip to a bit later. Edda's group is locked away in a big palace chamber, wondering what's going to happen. A brief exchange between Edda and one of her friends is interrupted by the king's advisor, inviting Edda to dinner with some fancy clothing, presumably with King Akol himself.

Mutton is now sick of telling Grammarly that, no, he is not confusing the word 'boar' for something else and his made up bullcrap language can be ignored by the spellchecker for the thirtieth time. Forsooth, he leaves the rest of the story for another time.

Sheets for Loralom as a society, beast hounds, and blutter boars are TBA.
[/hider]