[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/984601908423573504/984623588663525386/Kol_Kin.png[/img] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/984601908423573504/984605566116696095/Kol_header.png[/img][/center] [hr] [center][h1][color=Crimson][u]Aftermath[/u][/color][/h1][/center] [hr] [color=crimson]Location:[/color] On the coast near Port Morilles [hr] [color=crimson]Mentions/Interaction:[/color] None [hr] [center][youtube]https://youtu.be/rnrK3zxsKdA[/youtube][/center] Roars of victory and anguish, smoke of campfires and funeral pyres, food filling bellies or rotting with the dead, duality is what war is. One side wins and the other loses, one side finds victory the other finds defeat, yet that is never true and today was a perfect example. The Eskandr horde had broken out onto the Parrench soil, yet they did not take Relouse, the Parrench keeps their city, yet they did not push the Horde back into the sea. Each side lost many men, each side lost fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, brothers, and sisters. This was the first battle, so the war was far from over, yet Kol already felt the toil. His mind was always going back to his people, those fathers who have aged far more than Kol has and now wishes to take a seat at the Visitor's Table. Those sons who wished to seek glory for themselves, those fathers who wished to make a greater life for their children, and those who listen to the calls of the gods against those who try to convert them and challenge their way of life. As Kol walked the camps, he spoke to people much the same as he always does, as he joined them in very feeling they had. He mourned with them as they reminisced, he celebrated in the lives who made it to the Visitor's Table and the glory many came back with. He offered what he could, words to strengthen the resolve of those he could, or stabilize those who were to crumble at these losses. Kol did what he could for his people, yet everything began to weigh upon him when he looked into their eyes. Many who had survived are but those young enough to fight yet not old enough to have understood the weight of war. Many heard the stories that were told from word to mouth, the stories that followed Kol, and the stories that their very religion not only justified but glorified it. Many looked as if they had lost something, had seen combat as it is, and faced against what could be considered Gods to those who were not gifted by the Gods who gifted those Gods power. Kol looked to the see, longing home once more, his people had put so much out to this war, they depleted their forests, they had their best craftsmen focused solely on ship craft than anything else. The provisions were hoarded for this moment and now the land will be depleted for some time, all abled bodies had come to do something greater than themselves. And all that work, all that time, was set ablaze, many Eskandr were stuck here, including Kol's very own people. They could not leave, there was nowhere to go except forward. Kol winced, he knew something like this could happen, yet it felt too harsh too quickly, Kol knew these boats, his people did too as they put everything they had and produce additional boats for other armies, they shouldn't have all been wiped out so easily, especially to a force who would have been in defense and then chased after some time, someone had to have been on the inside to do it. Kol could not figure who would sell their own people out like this, yet Kol knew that it would not stand. He would not allow such a thing to stand, as this could be the thing to kill his people. All the able-bodied men and women Strumreef has to offer were now here, away from their home, and with no foreseeable way of returning. Kol's blood boiled, it could be years until they even finish this war, and then once that is done, making it back home could take longer. Kol thought of his home, how much could it change in a half decade if not more. He thought would he still be able to lead as he has always done, he had already reached some of his peak, and now he felt his body was getting older. He felt it as even after the healing the aches were still there, battle tears one apart, and the form of battle it seemed the gods have chosen him for would tear him more apart. He was unsure if he could continue, but he had to, he had no choice. He needed to, he had yet to have bared an heir, he had yet to have taken a wife, something Kol had slightly regretted, yet now was not the time to dwell, he was called once more to do more work. Kol had boarded a boat and was ready to set sail, Kol took some of his men with him to travel, he wished for them to come and maybe think once more to go home. Maybe they could save a few of his people, even just a little. Kol gave all he could, and Strumreef would all too willing to do the same, but he could not bear it, he could not watch his people to crumble because of this war. Maybe this was the only way, maybe…