[color=A9A9A9][h1][u]Act Two: Scattered to the Winds[/u]____ __ _ _[/h1] [h2][u]Chapter Four: Mortal Men[/u]______ __ _ _[/h2][/color] [hr][hr] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Beu1If3.png[/img][/center] [hr][hr][h3][color=A9A9A9]Loves and Hatreds[/color] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1W1uDR9EOx0&list=PLPJny5xpzQqS0uk4bb_Q5wPjnsQRaFKgW&index=7][color=696969]𝅗𝅥[/color][/url] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FU8gSz8EZNw&list=PLPJny5xpzQqS0uk4bb_Q5wPjnsQRaFKgW&index=8][color=8B4513]𝅘𝅥[/color][/url] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C7xBEsLmklc&list=PLPJny5xpzQqS0uk4bb_Q5wPjnsQRaFKgW&index=6][color=B22222]𝅘𝅥𝅮[/color][/url] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5lZwy_yGVeM&list=PLPJny5xpzQqS0uk4bb_Q5wPjnsQRaFKgW&index=9][color=FF4500]𝅘𝅥𝅯[/color][/url] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LffSZfRSwTI&list=PLPJny5xpzQqS0uk4bb_Q5wPjnsQRaFKgW&index=11][color=FFA500]𝅘𝅥𝅰[/color][/url][/h3] [hr][hr] [color=A9A9A9]The lives of mortal men are fickle things: they give the illusion of control, but that control is tenuous and situational at best. One finds himself adrift upon an ocean, subject to its vagaries and fickle currents and he must often leap or else drown, neither option appealing but a choice nonetheless necessary. It was such a moment when the dragon appeared. The cleverly laid-out diversions and pitfalls of the Eskandr counted for nothing against such a force of nature. The enemy that the Parrench had prepared to face now appeared the lesser of two evils. Indeed, one of their greatest villains sacrificed near to the point of death in order to ward the beast off long enough that cooler heads might prevail. The stage had been set for an unlikely alliance against an existential threat, shared personhood bonding bitter enemies together in a struggle for survival. The capacity for emotion is one of our greatest strengths as people: human and yasoi alike. It inspires and motivates us, brings us happiness, love, and even melancholy, for the last has its uses as well. Yet, for us to understand happiness, there must be anguish; for love, hatred; melancholy can so easily slip into despair, despondence, and terror. It was this second cohort of feeling that the people who stood upon the fields of fire chose. Nearly two thousand Eskandr and Parrench spat in the face of assumed wisdom and, instead of turning their steel and magics upon the dragon that threatened them all, they warred with each other once more. The heroes of one side and villains of another brushed aside gestures of goodwill and clashed in duel and open combat alike. Honour and decency fell by the wayside and the anger of one man burned white hot across the battlefield, laying low his enemies and willing his side ever closer to a victory that they had no business winning. The Parrench, however, were not so easily broken, and it appeared that the two sides might yet bleed each other to the last armoured man.[/color] [hr][hr][h3][color=A9A9A9]Marquis Down[/color][/h3][hr][hr] [color=A9A9A9]Perceval was wretched. He had been stuck with arrows like a pincushion and only his armour had saved him. Still, the wounds smarted. His shoulder had given as he hit the ground too, and he would need a binder. [color=gold]“Binder!”[/color] he called out, staggering forward. [color=gold]“Marquis down! Fetch me a binder immediately!”[/color] He bit back a curse. It would not do to be unchivalrous. [color=gold]“How I have sacrificed for my queen and country,”[/color] he lamented, [color=gold]“how I have [i]bled![/i]”[/color] He [i]had[/i], and it [i]hurt[/i] - by Echeran, it hurt, but there was advantage to be gained here and he could begin laying the groundwork. [color=gold]“And I would bleed yet more!”[/color] he roared, [color=gold]“I would give my very [i]life[/i] for my country, but I have precious little to give like this. [i]Binder![/i]”[/color] he hollered, [color=gold]“I need a binder so that I might return to the fray and lay low these heathens! So that Echeran’s -”[/color] He came upon Sir Maerec and the downed Eskandr woman. There were two more recovered prisoners. This, then, was a victory. [color=gold]“Good sir,”[/color] he remarked, grimacing as he came to a stop. He’d left the arrows in, partially to keep the wounds from gushing in earnest and partially because it made him look more heroic. They were not all that deep anyhow, or so he thought. He had never actually been shot with an arrow, after all. [color=gold]“You have done us a great service this day.”[/color] He glanced down at the woman who had shot him. [color=gold]“I am bloodied but still more than enough to watch an unconscious woman. Ride to the queen, I command you. Tell her of this victory, and call a binder here so that myself and these prisoners we have emancipated might be restored.”[/color] He glanced about the battlefield. He was unhorsed and it was far too exposed a position. There was far too high a likelihood of dying and Percy had no intentions of doing so. He still had yet to become king, after all. [color=gold]“Well, go on, man!”[/color] he prodded. Then, however, even as powerful magic rained down and his prisoner stirred, healing inexplicably fast, his eyes turned instinctively to the sky and deep, frigid chill raced through his bowels.[/color] [hr][hr][h3][color=A9A9A9]Terror Descends[/color][/h3][hr][hr] [color=A9A9A9]Both factions were brought to a pause. Somehow, they knew it even before they could sense it: the feeling of the air itself seemed to change. The distant echoes from the pounding of massive wings rumbled in the distance. Soon came an unearthly howl that everyone present could feel in their bones and, suddenly, it didn't matter whether they were Parrench, or Drudgunzean, or Eskandr. It did not matter if they were human or yasoi. Not much of anything mattered, for the small foolish people busy burning, stabbing, and pounding each other to death in a cool, muddy field had squandered their chance to rise above their hatreds and become something more. Thus, in the end, they were all the same to the Tryrannus Gehenna: tiny, weak, and [i]food[/i]. The dragon was a great black leviathan: some two hundred feet from nose to tail, with wings at least the equal of its length. Its mouth yawned open and it belched fire into the periphery of the small, scrambling creatures below. Three hundred Parrench died near-instantly. The actions of Queen Eleanor and some of her most formidable knights saved at least a hundred more, but now the two sides were not so unequally matched and, in the chaos and panic, whatever prisoners they had captured found it easy to break free. From the opposite side of the battle lines, Sweyn Thunderspear offered no aid to his enemies this time. Instead, he turned to some of his closest companions. [color=fff79a]“I see no reason to throw ourselves away saving enemy land and lives,”[/color] he spat. [color=fff79a]“I will not make that mistake and reap their ‘gratitude’ again. Honour be damned at this point. We ride for Chamonix,”[/color] he shouted. [color=fff79a]“We ride to join the king and we ride posthaste. If any of you has an objection, speak now or be silent.”[/color][/color] [hider=Action Opportunities]In the live fight that we played out over discord, the two sides proved unable to peaceably cooperate. Instead, honour was cast aside on multiple occasions, a duel to the (near) death was fought, a desperate hostage situation played out, and the Nashorn ran rampant. Now, as players, you will reap the consequences of your actions. Disorganized, divided, and weaker than before, you must contend with the enraged dragon, whether that means fighting together, apart, or running for your miserable lives. I will be holding combat dice rolls all week for the fight. If we can arrange a date and time, that would be ideal. This is definitely a good time to collaborate. Below are some ideas: [list][*]Sweyn is going to lead the Eskandr forces away towards Chamonix and leave Parrence to burn and the Queen's army to either die by dragon or slay it. There is no tactical or strategic advantage to sticking around. As an Eskandr, state your piece if you have an objection, or you will be leaving with him. A clean escape is likely but not guaranteed. If you do not go with him, then you risk a permanent break with your side. This may be a good moment for Hildr or it may not. [*]The dragon's power is awe-inspiring, but it is not without weaknesses. You must fight it for your own survival and that of a large swathe of your country. Think about how your magics can be used against it, how they can be used in combination, and how you may use the environment to your advantage. Consider the beast's potential weaknesses and how you might exploit them. Also, you need to regroup and come up with a defensive strategy to make its big, sweeping, straight-line fire attacks less effective. [*]Ulfhild, healed by Sweyn, himself recently escaped, has broken free and raced back for the Eskandr lines. If you wish to try to recapture her, this is something that you must collaborate on. If necessary, we will roll. The prisoners that Maerec and Percy have freed were not among the many killed in the dragon's most recent attack, though they are now fleeing, panicking, and praying. The final group rescued during Ulfhild's desperate flight are those close to Camille.[/list][center][h3]Good luck![/h3][/center][/hider]