[center][h3][u][color=#B8860B] Mahal Agha [/color][/u][/h3][/center][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/oKxxC3B.png[/img][/center][center][color=#B8860B] "Wouldn't it be better to feed it Virangish blood instead?"[/color][/center][h1][center]The Palaparese Revolution: Chapter 4.2 [/center][/h1][sub][center]Location: Palapar[/center][/sub]
[h2]Escape from Orange Point[/h2][hider=*]
About an hour's sail or a half-day's ride from the burgeoning market town of Betalo lies Orange Point: the tip of a large peninsula absolutely covered with sprawling coffee plantations. While the town itself is home to the coast's best harbour north of Arangal, there is a small but deep one near the headland.

It was here that the Army of the Palaparese People's Liberation had chosen to make its camp as the rebels tried to convince a wary Betalo to let go of its neutrality and join the cause. Its leaders did not expect the Virangish to land in both Kalubay, to the north, and Betalo without warning and in perfect synchronization. They could not have known that their enemies had sailed through the night and told nobody in Palapar - even those on their side - of the exact time and place of their arrival. They could not have anticipated an immediate march upon landing to catch their forces on the peninsula from both sides. Night fell and, save for a single rugged ridge and their small port, they found themselves almost entirely surrounded, backs against the sea.

That ridge, along with the plantations and their plants were the key. Pitched battle against an enemy this strong - a zealous army of Darhannic crusaders that equaled them in numbers and outstripped them in equipment and experience - would have been the end of them. So, instead, the Army of the Palaparese People's Liberation staged a daring escape, through misdirection, knowledge of the local terrain, and use of the water. Sacrificing some of the coffee crop didn't hurt either.

Regardless, while the handful of small skirmishes that resulted proved a tactical victory for the Darhannic crusaders, they represented a strategic blunder and a missed opportunity of immense proportions: one that some say was pivotal in the outcome of the war.

[hr]

[i][color=#B8860B] "Have you heard of what's happened to other outlying cities?" [/color] Mahal asked, watching the men whisper among each other. She knew they had and dreaded it happening here.

Bayani, one of those in charge, turned to her. "What guarantees do we have that the rebels can protect us? Rumors from the Virangish claim victory in the capital-"

[color=#B8860B]"We still hold the capital despite their claims." [/color] Mahal blurted out, interrupting him. His eyes darkened causing her to inhale. Unlike Lunara, she had no such training for this and lacked the tactful skills.

Diyablos' tentacle stretched out for attention as she let it wrap about her fingers. It cooled her temper for the moment. [color=#B8860B]"Apologies."[/color] The word was thick on her tongue.

[color=#B8860B]"I won't give you promises that the rebellion can't keep, but consider this. The Virangish are already inflicting their justice on everyone they can. They will start hanging who they think is guilty. " [/color]

Bayani studied her for a moment. She appeared to have touched a nerve as he replied. "I know that much. However, I have to consider what's best for my city. Word has traveled that you've angered a lot of Darhannics by burning their star. How can I trust such people to have our interests at heart? To not make things worse?"

Mahal's fingers curled into a fist, but she said nothing. It was unclear to her if the Blue Star had been a target of misdirected anger or something else. She made a note to eventually talk to Dani or the Masked man when she got the chance. One of the others stepped in to ease the tension as the talks continued. Struggling to keep her temper in check, Mahal turned away and waited outside until they departed. This negotiation thing was much harder than Lunara made it look. [/i]

[hr]

After finishing her business in Belato, a restlessness gnawed at Mahal. She finally came out to the shoreline to check in on Apoy.

[color=#B8860B]"Sit! Stay."[/color] Barking her commands back at the hounds, they stopped at the edge with a whine. Meanwhile, Diyablos slipped down her arm into the sea. She knew he would stick close for safety.

As her toes floated off the shallows, bubbles appeared a few feet in front of her. A dark carapace, streaked with red and yellow, broke through the surface. It began to drift closer. Her hand reached to brush the hard shell. By now, her thresher had grown into the size of a small orca and it made her smile. She climbed onto his back and held on.

[color=#B8860B]"Down." [/color]

Apoy quivered then began to sink down. The water rushed to her legs and climbed higher, gradually engulfing her. When it reached her head, she seized a breath then let it swallow her. Her eyes closed while the water pounded within her head. Slowly, she cracked her eyelids open to take in the blurry world around her. Fish darted away before they disappeared into colorful corals or the depths.

Mahal dug her fingers into the carapace's gaps as Apoy skimmed along the shallows. His automatic motions pushed her lower half up and she moved in sync with him. For this moment, the world above fell away from her attention. The worries, harsh judgement and more couldn't hurt her. She took in the peace for a brief moment.

[hr]
After spending hours with Apoy, Mahal finished hauling her catch to shore. She braiding the jute through the fish's lower jaws before she hoisted it across her back. In her other arm, she carried a small bundle of seaweed for the next day. She gave a low whistle. All three of her hounds perked up and then rushed over. As Supok darted ahead, Ngiti yipped and chased her down the shoreline. Puno growled while she stayed close. Above it all, Diyablos rode on top of her shoulder. His tentacle subtly inched closer to a fish.

[color=#B8860B]"Diyablos, no." [/color] She warned him then shifted the fish over to her other side.

Her eyes caught sight of the log marking camp and then stepped over it. The rich smell of smoke drew her closer as she settled near the fire. Using one of her daggers, she began to scrap off the scales before she removed the guts. At the pitiful whine of the hounds, she tossed each one a few scraps. Meanwhile, Diyablos curled his tentacle about a fish and darted away. His legs made a mad dash for cover with his prize. Mahal frowned at his antics, but didn't give chase.

She had just finished up the rest when she heard someone approach her. Her eyes turned up while she threaded one of the fillets through a stick. [color=#B8860B]"If you're going to tell me about volunteers for the watch, I've already heard. I haven't seen Bituin to give him my answer." [/color]

The wheels stopped as someone spoke to them. [color=FF00FF][i]What a cruel joke. A student is trapped between cornered murderers and the cornering butchers. Only Hetraxa herself would taunt me so.[/i][/color] Dali turned to them. [color=DF0174]”And what will that answer be?"[/color] Her voice rang rather monotone through her question. [color=DF0174]”Will you be good and do as they say? . . Or do you think that perhaps, your own mind would be a better judge then the ones you tell yourself to follow?"[/color]

The girl paused. [color=DF0174]”But, it's not all that bad. I don't have to think too hard, I just do as they ask me to."[/color]

Mahal paused. She lifted her head and sized up the philosophical words. For several moments, the fire crackled in the background. Its faint light illuminated and blurred out their features with sharp shadows. Returning her attention to the fish, Mahal checked the fastenings. [color=#B8860B] "Uh, I wasn't expecting that from you." [/color]

She then planted the spear deep into the ground. Her hand reached for more as she continued to speak. [color=#B8860B] "Considering I'm here and not by my sister's side, I think it's a bit of both." [/color]

With a shrug, she glared at Supok attempting to snitch a fish. She barked a sharp command causing the hound to curl back and lay back down. [color=#B8860B] "As for the watch, I'm likely going to take it." [/color]

[color=DF0174]"Then don't let me keep you any longer."[/color] Dali rolled forward, away from the flames. Yet, they halted just before their silhouette would be engulfed in shadows. [color=DF0174]"Your sister misses you, do you miss her just as much?"[/color]

A sigh escaped the wheeled girl. [color=DF0174]"A family at odds should be only reserved for squabbling rich folks and nobles, not people like us."[/color]
And with that she rolled away.

[color=#B8860B] "Considering we got into a fight, I doubt it. I can miss her all I want, but we both made our choices. She considers me a threat now." [/color] Mahal commented, a hint of sorrow edged into her voice. She planted the second pole next to the first then started on the third.

Upon Dali's last comment, she clicked her tongue against her teeth. [color=#B8860B] "I'm not sure all the rebels would agree. Mother is native, but father is elite. For some people, that's enough of a reason not to trust me." [/color]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X-7c_sMeLT8[/youtube]

The darkness deepened and people moved about. For the rebels camped out at Orange Point, it was but another tense night as they remained stationed at the vital port town, trying to convince its population to throw in with them. The clock was ticking, leadership down in Ceboyan knew. It was only a matter of time before the reinforcements from Virang landed and the war took on an entirely different complexion.

It was a waiting game, and so they watched and they waited, seeing nothing, and sensing nothing, but for one who they could not trust, one who pursued [i]her[/i] his own agenda...

The streets of Betalo began to fill with people: a cross-section of locals, from labourers to merchants to leaders. Most were human, with a smattering of eeaiko and yasoi. Some were prepared while others were half-dressed. Gradually, an alarm sounded. Gradually, a party of officials was gathered. One held a spyglass to his eye and updated the others. The Virangish had signaled. They would do the town no harm so long as its citizens remained silent and behind its walls.

Soldiers clustered on the decks of the fleet, arms at the ready, steel glistening faintly in the near-moonless night. Among them was Major Selma Balik, boot up on the gunwale, rifle slung across her back, energy senses reaching out for any suspicious activity. The docks, hastily cleared, approached the Altın Kılıç scrubbing speed through the use of the Gift. [color=8FBC8F]"Öncü squadron, form up!"[/color] she barked, and similar commands echoed through the still night air from the thirty-six other ships of the fleet. Timbers groaned and deckhands leapt onto the docks. ropes wrapped around bollards and gangplanks thumped into place.

The Virangish had landed and the rebels had no idea.

For a day and a half, they had marched south from Kalubay, Vizier Karga himself at their head. The army's pace had been truly torrid, but they were powered by righteous fury over the massacres in Ceboyan, the burning of one Darhanna's holiest sites, and the continued brutality of the rebellion. If it had been necessary to... silence any who they'd encountered, few of the Virangish soldiers - both the veterans and those recently and clandestinely landed near the port - had batted an eyelash.

The Royal Palapar Trading Company had brought modernity and prosperity to this land and, in return, the barbarians who inhabited it, had massacres over a thousand Virangish - men, women, and children, elders and the infirm, holy men, envoys, academics. They were beyond saving. They were things to be culled. So it was that an army of some five thousand men and women wound its way toward Orange Point. The tethered stationed strategically along their route relayed regular messages and apprised the force's commanders of the southern force's landing and the enemy's unawareness. Either there truly [i]was[/i] a traitor or the savages were simply that unprofessional. He almost felt bad for them.

[i]Almost.[/i]

Piyale Karga, in the saddle despite his years, adjusted the straps of his rifle, not that he expected to be called into action personally. That was the stuff of imbeciles like Ertan Kashani. Still, a personal show of force would be beneficial to his standing. He would pick his moment. His people would bring him a leader and all would see him dispense justice. He would bring about the end of this rebellion with the army he had brought over from Virang.

So it was that the trap was set: two armies converged on Orange Point, undetected thanks to the actions of a single man with an agenda. Stars twinkled overhead. Waves lapped at the rocky shore. Crops grew thick and green in fields.

Dalisay was... nowhere to be seen by the time that the Palaparese lookouts finally detected two Virangish armies merging into a single great host. They sounded the alarm and their forces rose and prepared immediately, but there was no escape from Orange Point, it seemed.

They would have to fight their way out.

"Get up! Everyone up on your feet, now!" A man shouted as he waltzed over to the sleeping figures.

His foot kicked at Mahal's leg causing her to stir. Her fire hound bristled and growled, her form rose up onto her paws. Immediately, the girl sat to place a hand upon the dog's hunches. Supok laid back down. Rubbing the grit and blur from her eyes, Mahal spotted the panicked camp scrambling about.  She pushed off Ngiti's form from her legs and pushed onto her feet. As a man moved past her, she caught his arm.

[color=#B8860B] "What's going on?" [/color]

With frighten eyes, he met her gaze. "Some lookouts spotted the Virang and now we're surrounded. No one knows how we missed them, but..."

His trail off made it clear what he was thinking. Ignoring the churning in her stomach, Mahal asked another question. [color=#B8860B] "Where's the tethered?" [/color]

He shrugged. "I don't know. No one can seem to find her and it doesn't matter now."

Mahal released him. She reached for her daggers, defiance in her eyes. [color=#B8860B] "We'll-" [/color]

Before she said more, a distant boom interrupted her. She glanced toward the direction of Betalo. Small dots bobbing on the water suddenly burst into flames as it raced across the harbor.

"What the-"

Mahal turned back to the man. [color=#B8860B] "Best not to question fortune when it happens." [/color]

She whistled, drawing her hounds toward her.

Marceline did not have the luxury of being picked up by a ship. She did not need it. For the past three hours, as Alejandro gathered his fleet, she had moved things quietly into place, always a resource, always there to help.

About an hour ago, as the Virangish had landed, she had teleported away from Betalo and set herself in the courtyard of a recently-abandoned plantation. The light of the moons filtered, bone-white, through a thin veil of clouds, and cool lick of wind stirred the coffee plants, ripe and heavy. In the near distance, a raven perched on a rooftop, its harsh cry cutting through the silence.

Now alone and finally undistracted, Marceline stretched out her senses to check on the Palaparese movements. [color=598527][i]Idiots![/i][/color] Her eyes widened and her sensing cut off abruptly. Someone had dropped the ball. She reached out again and found Dalisay, sending her fellow tethered an urgent message. Something light and electric surged through her body and she could feel her pulse picking up. As insurance, she reached out again and sent a message to Gani. If anyone there might understand pinch language, it would be him or Bato.

For a moment, the impulse to move - to physically [i]move[/i] - nearly overcame the young tethered, but she managed only a few pushes across the shaggy grass before her sense returned. She was situated well here and, if everything went according to plan, there was about to be...

From her hilltop vantage, she saw the flash first, followed by a massive [i]'crrrrack!'[/i] that echoed through the damp air a moment later. A series of rolling booms followed as the harbour came alight. That was it. The deed was done and Betalo would suffer unjustly if the Virangish won decisively. It now fell to her and the others to ensure that didn't happen.

A gust of wind caused her hair to flutter, and trees swayed in the formerly still night. Surely, both armies would have seen the disturbance by now. She tracked their preparations with a budding anxiety, checking for scouts, checking to ensure that she was definitely out of sensing range. The Virangish were momentarily paused, but they had been setting a torrid pace. Assuming that they didn't double back, they would be upon the rebels within an hour.

The muscles in Marci's abdomen clenched up of their own volition. She took a few breaths to steady herself. This was war. She was in a war. People would be killed. She might kill them. If they found her - her fists balled up involuntarily around her skirts - they would try to kill her. Why was the world so mad? Why was she mad enough to be a part of this!?

It was a messy action from the start. The two Virangish armies - one under Fahreddin Kaya and Selma Balik and the second under Vizier Karga himself - had just met up when they made contact with the rebels.

General Buhawi had barely managed to marshal a frontline into being and he had them charge immediately, seeking to exploit the still-closing gap between the two enemy forces and stage a daring breakout.

The horizon had begun to glow a deep marine blue when the first shots rang out. Musket fire ripped across fields ripe with produce and, within only a couple of minutes, soldiers from both sides were scrambling to the front and urgent tactical maneuvers being devised.

The rebels held a small rise that gave them cover but, to break free, they left it behind. If their initial breakthrough was almost effortless, the Virangish retaliation was swift and brutal. It took them perhaps a minute to close the gap in their lines and the Palaparese vanguard was cut off.

The mages scrambled to reopen the breach, pounding at the enemy lines, but Gandakar's finest had landed and the gulf in skill between the two forces could not have been more apparent as they not only repelled the second assault but proceeded to massacre those who had broken through to a man.

Now gathered in earnest, the Virangish proceeded to form up and launch their counterattack, behind a withering barrage from their magery. It was not long before fields were aflame and the screams and desperate whimpers of the wounded and the dying mingled with the crack of gunfire and shouted orders in the smoky air.

For twenty more minutes, the rebels held that small rise, and their artillery, perched on a small circular mesa known as 'The Nail', opened fire and kept up a withering assault on the Virangish magery, forcing them to defend instead of attacking and buying their own beleaguered mages time to regroup.

Yet, as the glow on the horizon lightened to cerulean, and then hints of a yellowish-pink, the situation for the defenders became increasingly desperate. The Virangish cavalry charged and the mages were caught half-aware and there was no choice but to retreat to The Nail.

The lines of the expeditionary forces formed up in their serried ranks and bugles and cymbals sounded. Like one great machine, they surged forward: a great menacing unstoppable wall of steel and flame and fury.

Bloodied from battle - though it was not her own blood - hair unkempt and face soot-stained, Selma Balik grimly ordered her company forward. [color=8FBC8F]"Forward, boys!"[/color] she shouted, [color=8FBC8F]"Take as many prisoners as they did in Ceboyan."[/color]

That was to say: 'none'.

When the first round of return fire came, several rebels found cover. Mahal drew as she rushed to the front lines. A magnetic pulse shot out, sending several shots deep into the dirt at her feet. One suddenly tore through her defenses. Pain erupted across the right side of her face, followed by a warm, wet sensation. Her hand touched her right ear...

A dangling chunk of flesh met her fingers. Memories flooded her mind as she pushed them down. A familiar helplessness swelled in her chest and drew up her anger. Pushing past the agony, she healed her wound. The dizziness faded and the bleeding ceased.

When a group began to push out against the Virangish lines, Mahal rushed to help. They slammed hard into the superior forces too easily. She fell back to protect the rear and swiftly fell behind.

A few bullets nicked Ngiti's white coat, painting it red. The dog flinched, but clamped down on the leg. As the Virangish raised his blade, Puno leapt at his left. The attack changed direction. She yelped before her fangs sank into his neck. His scream died on his lips.

Meanwhile, Mahal and Supok struggled with another mage in the fray. While the woman tried to crush Supok, the Mahal came in close. Mahal's dagger sliced the abdomen then Diyablos sent her back with a tentacle whip. Freed from the magic, the fire hound kinetically rushed at her. The woman's bones cracked underneath the force.

By now, the Virangish had cut off the group from earlier and wiped them out. Not willing to let them steal ground to the rise, Mahal took a moment to connect to the earth itself.  Lightning crackled across her daggers. Using them to aim, she cast thunderbolts at the nearest targets. They felt back instantly from the raw power.

While she was distracted, Supok followed by Ngiti perked up their noses. They barked as their noses caught the whiff of smoke and a blaze. Before she knew it, it licked at her heels and singed her lower left leg. Supok faithfully remained at her side causing her hind right to sizzle.

She flinched when a ghostly image of herself popped up beside her. Frozen in confusion, she recognized it to be an illusion. With a deep breath, she and her hounds hobbled back to the 'The Nail".

Mahal leaned against a tree trunk. She ignored the pain rippling in her lower leg. Instead, she forced Supok to lay and examined her hind paw. It was bad, but mostly blistered. Diyablos crawled across her shoulder to rest on the panting hound's stomach. A kind gesture that she appreciated.

Feeling the familiar pinch language across her skin, Mahal considered her options. A dark, familiar shape bobbed near the surface below the cliffs. She walked to the edge as she twisted about and hopped downward. Her hounds began to follow, causing her to make them heel.  Kidlat had noticed and moved closer.

[color=8181F7]"What are you doing?"[/color]

[color=#cbc66d] "Giving us more time. Apoy is down there and I can't 'direct' him unless I'm near him. There's friendly ships near the shore, but I need to delay the enemy. Take care of my dogs and make sure they get on those boats. I'll come for them if I'm not dead." [/color]

Not bothering to explain more, she half climbed and half fell down the cliff side [color=#cbc66d] " I hope this works." [/color]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OaGKuFc9Wm0

Things had not been the same since Kalubay. Then, it had seemed as if victory might truly be within their grasp. One action after another, the enemy had been swept aside or pushed back or... there had been a regrettable incident or two as well but, sometimes, that was the nature of war.

They had been scurrying like rats since then, however: once it had become clear that Viceroy Kashani wouldn't simply be able to ride Zarina Al-Nader all of the way to the bank.

Now, things had changed again. She wasn't certain of all the details, but she knew that Zarina had someone in the rebel ranks, and whoever it was, Selma Balik had let out a low whistle as she'd approached and witnessed the Palaparese caught almost completely cold. The agent was [i][b]good[/b][/i].

The rebels had done what she'd known they would: try to stage a breakout. They'd been quick about it too, and so she'd ordered Ejderha Battallion not to fill the gap but to widen it slightly, drop back, and use it as a bottleneck. The rebel attempt had been thwarted and their vanguard devastated.

Further down the peninsula they pushed, and the defenders were on the very verge of total collapse, their back echelons peeling off from The Nail and fleeing down the steep rocky headland for... she wasn't quite sure what. [color=8FBC8F]"Ejderha!"[/color] Selma shouted, [color=8FBC8F]"Fix bayonets!"[/color] The order traveled up and down the line as the last of the enemy resistance collapsed. [color=8FBC8F]"Ejderha!"[/color] she commanded, opening her mouth to issue the charge, but then it struck her like hammer to the side of the head. Her muscles jerked and spasmed and she staggered to the side, unable to speak.

Selma's training kicked in. This was an internal magnetic attack disrupting her nerves' signals. Her hands curled and she ground her teeth, collapsing to the side. Her left eye blinked arrhythmically and she summoned what little focus she could to counter the effects, to restore the charges.

Then, just like that, the attack came to an end. She slumped there behind a small rock outcropping, chest heaving, eyes bloodshot, trying to force the tremors down and rise. The enemy had a [i]very[/i] strong mage and, for a moment, she wondered if they had brought another of those masked killers. She wondered, but not for long. She didn't have the luxury of pondering when death way flying about the air around her.

She was just about to rise when the mountainside erupted. Immense chunks of stone peeled off, cracking and melting, and human bodies went with them. A pair of brilliant plasma beams leapt from some distant vantage towards the tip of the peninsula, scything across the advancing Virangish ranks.

In naught but ten seconds, nearly a fifth of Ejderha Battallion had been wiped out. Selma threw herself to her feet and staggered towards the safety of The Nail, where the enemy batteries, now abandoned, had gone silent. It was a narrow window through which to pass and, for a moment, it gave her pause but, while she had been silent, Lieutenant Avcı had taken over and her troops were already charging. [color=8FBC8F]"Shit!"[/color] Selma cursed, stumbling quickly after them.

[hr]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cHZNi1ltSAY[/youtube]

Far away, in a deserted courtyard, another young woman breathed in and out steadyingly. From beneath the brim of a great dark hat, she lowered a raised arm and let go of her excess energy. Smoke curled from her fingertips and mist swirled from her mouth.

She had no more answers now than she'd had an hour ago but, if the world was a madhouse and she was not mad, then she would appoint herself its guard. She swallowed. She could sense them all: all of the pieces in play, and she lay in wait, ready to provide a push where needed. [color=598527]"Godspeed,"[/color] she whispered.
[hr]

[color=#B8860B] "Kumuha! (Fetch!)" [/color]

Apoy rumbled then dove into the depths. Mahal slid back and pushed her fingers into a crack along his segmented tail. She rode him downward to a rock formation. His claw snapped forward. The impact rippled through her. Fueled by the raw power, Apoy scooped up the larger rocks then went up.

[color=#B8860B] "Batuhín! (to throw something/stones at someone)" [/color] She pointed at the Virangish closing in. [color=#B8860B] " Linulusob! (to attack something/someone)" [/color]

Seeming to understand, the thresher reared upon his tail and tossed back its claws. Muscles tensed then released, sending the rocks flying far. Adding her kinetic magic to Apoy's toss, Mahal increased the momentum. Once Apoy's shell became a vibrate red, twin beams shot from the thresher in the wake of the first attack.

[color=#cbc66d] "Kumuha! (Fetch!)" [/color]

When they came back up, she noticed some of the Virangish charging the nail. Mahal directed Apoy for the middle of their ranks. Just like they had divided their ranks before, Mahal intended to return the favor.

Meanwhile, a few mages took defensive positions and drew upon their gifts. The first rock plowed into the earth just short of its target. However, the second refused to yield to their power. It crashed hard into the retreating soldiers. Scared and angered, a brave few turned their weapons and magic upon the mage and her pet.

[color=#B8860B] "Bumúbulusok! (to dive)" [/color] Mahal shouted.

This time, Apoy was the slower one.

As they escaped into the depths, trails of blood filled the water. Suddenly, a low rumble of an explosion echoed above them. Mahal held her broken arm close to her waist as she tapped the thresher's carapace and up they went once more.

# Fist of the Empire

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LffSZfRSwTI&list=PLPJny5xpzQqQYQFkrsntsCt1Kqghs88LB&index=10

The rebels seemed in full flight now, but where did they have to go? Having given up on breaking through, they scrambled ever further down the peninsula in what could only have seemed, to Selma and other frontliners, as a suicide march into the ocean.

The Nail fell all at once, Virangish regulars and volunteers alike swarming over it and capturing the batteries. Already, some were beginning to break ranks and pursue the beaten enemy, eager to turn them to rout. Over the orders of their superiors and a... [i]complicated[/i] command chain, they rushed into the smoke and haze, battle cries on their lips. Blue Star would be avenged, the Banquet of Short Knives would be repaid in full, blood would be answered with blood!

And then came the plasma beams. Perhaps they were the work of an incredibly powerful mage. Maybe they came from an animal, or perhaps some native weapon that the outsiders had not yet encountered. Whatever their origin, it mattered little. They scythed through the advancing Virangish, melting torsos and dismembering hands, arms, and legs. Then, there were the boulders, crashing down on the narrow pass to the near side of the promontory.

Some chose to fight them. Others decided upon a more pragmatic path, swirling around the far side, through a narrow bottleneck, still in pursuit of the fleeing Palaparese, still blinded by their adrenaline and bloodlust. They emerged on the other side, mushrooming outwards immediately, eager to engage the enemy.

And that was when the mountain exploded. None had seen the danger and none had sensed it, for how could one sense a greyborn? The increasing bulk of the Virangish army was bottlenecked right by The Nail when a pillar of flame rose into the sky and the entire garrison's powder stores went up like Moah'dera itself.

In an instant, four hundred lives were extinguished. Another hundred would join them within the next couple of minutes as many of the wounded succumbed. Chunks of mountain rained down from the sky, cutting the brave and foolish vanguard off from the rest of their erstwhile-ascendant forces. Clouds of dust and smoke so thick that they seemed a [i]literal[/i] veil obscured any approach and, in the surrounding murk, the Palaparese rearguard wheeled about and retook the initiative.

Perhaps, through the haze and shock and confusion, some of the Virangish could see it: the enemy gambit. Already, as they clambered down the steep rocky slopes, they waded and scrambled into a flotilla of waiting ships, cramming themselves in until the vessels sat low and heavy in the water, their opening salvoes of cannonfire adding to the cacophony.

And then, from the predawn fog, emerged a [i]monster[/i]. The [i]Isansoirex Cancai[/i], Fist of the Empire, hove into view from behind the rebel fleet and trained its one-hundred-thirty cannon on the Virangish positions. Already, it had left a Torragonese frigate and two Virangish warships flaming wrecks in its wake and it had been loosely shadowing the invasion fleet for over a week. This, then was the opportunity the yasoi had been hoping for.

Its gunports irised open and it unleashed its first broadside on the still-recovering Virangish, single handedly more than doubling the rebel firepower at hand. It was under this umbrella that the Palaparese found themselves, their retreat wholly covered. A new question now arose, however...

Should they really be retreating or could they turn this seeming defeat into the comprehensive victory it might've otherwise been?[/hider]
[hr]
[h2]Charge of the Islanders: Familiar Faces[/h2][hider=**]
[sub]Date: Carles 5th, Arrival in Kiluaho[/sub]

After the escape from Orange Point, there were whispers of a traitor among them. Many individuals, including Mahal, had been questioned about their watch. None had seen anything out of the ordinary. It left the girl on edge as she braced for blame to sway in her direction. Instead, the blame rested on the missing tethered. Dalisay had received the message in plenty of time, but no one knew it.

Though it bothered Mahal, she kept silent. She had a new task thanks to the betrayal. The girl gathered what little could be spared and rode out on her thresher toward her first stop: Kiluaho.
[hr]
"Look, there. See it?" A Moatu Suva warrior tapped his companion's shoulder and then pointed to the sea's horizon. A dark shape popped up onto the sea's horizon as it raced toward the shore. The younger man ran across the sands and disappeared into the jungle.
[hr]
Mahal cradled her stomach as she ignored the clawing hunger. She had underestimated the trip's distance causing the rations to run out a day or two early. Thankfully, she still had some water in her skin pouch. Apoy rumbled then pushed close to the beach. Mahal stretched out her leg and touched solid ground, encouraging her to push off his back. Meanwhile, Diyablos wrapped about her neck and toyed with her necklace with his new limb.

She chided him before her eyes caught something coming toward her. Tamatoa stood at the head of a war party, his spear readied until he recognized her. He lowered it causing the others to stand down. Greetings were exchanged as her stomach interrupted with a loud growl. He led her into the village where a large carcass of a pig roasted over a fire.

[hr]
After Mahal had enjoyed the feast and mingled a bit, she addressed the reason for her journey. They spoke in the native tongue as it was easier for her. [color=#B8860B]"It is good to see you all again, but I didn't come here only for a visit. I came to ask for help.[/color]

She took a deep breath and continued. [color=#B8860B]"People from the mainland have been fighting back against the Virang. However, we suffered a heavy blow at Orange Point and find ourselves struggling. I want to unite the tribes toward our cause. To finally free all of Palapar from Virang." [/color]

Letting her words sit for a moment, she then added. [color=#B8860B] "Will you be one of the first to join the fight?"[/color]

Mahal witnessed a wave of emotion ripple through each member of the family. Kaleo assessed the offer with what it meant for his people and the risk. Kanani kept a strong, silent air through her eyes and held worry in them. Tamatoa's eyes flickered with excitement and eagerness at the offer. Princess Tiare, still young, seemed confused by the changes in her family. Her older sister was withdrawn and quiet.

The chieftain glanced toward his queen as they exchanged an unspoken understanding. His eyes then turned back to Mahal as he gave his answer. [color=ba331e] "After what you've done for us, we will join you. I must warn you that with the other tribes, you have a challenge ahead of you. Especially with those from Kaliyang and Suvaru."[/color] His hand rested on Kanani's while he went on. [color=ba331e] "However, if you can convince their chieftains, Isagani and Dakila, then more will follow."[/color]

[color=#B8860B]"I've got little time to waste then. Thank you. [/color] Mahal gave a polite gesture and got up to leave.

[color=ba331e]"Good luck."[/color][/hider][h2]Charge of the Islanders: Protecting One’s Roots [/h2][hider=***][sub]Carles 13th, Kaliyang.[/sub]

Mahal took in the next island as it came into view. Kaliyang. Her stomach twitched at what Kaleo had said and considered the coming challenge. Would they listen or even believe her? By now, sweat coated her from the sun hanging high in the sky. Ignoring her anxiety, she rose onto her feet and walked along the waka's outer edge. She tugged at a rope forcing the boat to sway to the shorelines.

Once the course was set, she secured the rope and reached for a dried fish to gnaw on. Before she could take a bite, the waka shuddered. She caught herself before she fell face first. Putting the fish between her teeth, Mahal skimmed her fingers across the water. The surface parted as Apoy brushed up against her hand before sinking again. She smiled at the thresher's need for attention.

When the boat hit the shallows, she leapt over the edge and hauled it the rest of the way. She had finished tying it off when the sounds of approaching warriors drew her eyes. Their spears hung at their sides as they looked her over. Finally, an older man dressed in a grass skirt and long cloak stepped forward.

His eyes looked to the waka bearing the familiar markings of its origins then back to her. [color=e14e00]"That waka is from Kiluaho, but you don't look like one of Kaleo's warriors. Who are you? Speak clearly or we'll chase you back into the sea." [/color]

As Mahal thought of what to say, she spotted movement in the distant treeline. The point of an arrow retreated back into the flora as her eyes rested back on the man. [color=#B8860B] "You're right. I'm not. My name is Mahal and I'm from the big island. I bring news that you need to hear." [/color]

The man's eyes shifted to where she looked earlier, acknowledging her awareness. A breath delivered his next words. [color=e14e00]"And what would that be?" [/color]

[color=#B8860B]"The big island has rebelled against the Virangish and I’ve come to request help. It's a chance to drive them from your islands. Will you join us?" [/color]

A silence broke out between them. The man weighed the words she delivered like Kaleo had done before. Finally, he pivoted on his right foot and paused long enough for an invitation. [color=e14e00]"Come, we'll discuss this message of yours somewhere better." [/color]

He barked a command toward the jungle causing several women, arms with bows and arrows, to detach from it. It seemed they were expecting trouble if Mahal had to guess. 

[hr]

The chieftain Isagani looked to be in the late years of his life. However, he moved more like a warrior still in his prime. He crossed his legs and lowered his form upon the woven mat. His hand gestured to her to join him. She spoke of the rebellion, the battles fought, and unifying the tribes against a common enemy. Giving her no certain answer, she was dismissed and offered shelter for the night.

Despite her efforts, Mahal laid wide awake within the float melon hut. Her restless mind found itself worried needlessly over things. From missing her family to fearing her failure, the thoughts rolled like a stormy sea in her head. She closed her eyes and tried to force sleep on it.

Sensing her turmoil, Diyablos lifted the clay lid off his watery resting spot. Slowly he climbed out and came to rest on top of her middle. Feeling his cold, wet form curled against her skin, her hand drifted to pet him.

Just when her exhaustion started to overwhelm her, a tap came from the hut's entrance. Startled, both Mahal and her octopus shot upright.

A feminine voice followed. [color=c18ec4]"Mahal, wasn't it? I know it's late, but I would like a word with you. Will you walk with me?"[/color]

Cautiously, Mahal held her dagger close as she crawled out into the open. Diyablos refused to leave her side.
She came face to face with a thin woman with braided, graying hair. A cloak draped about her shoulders and shielded her from the insects nipping at the skin. With a gentle beckoning, she gestured for Mahal to follow. [color=c18ec4] "My name is Mutya. I'm sorry for waking you, but I wanted to talk with you alone."[/color]

[color=#B8860B]"You were one of the women from earlier today. Why? What do you want?" [/color]

[color=c18ec4]"Yes. I didn't expect you to spot me so quickly, but I couldn't take the chance you might hurt my husband." [/color] She began to walk to one side of the camp. [color=c18ec4]"I wanted to get a sense of you."[/color]

Mahal frowned, her eyes narrowing. She sheathed her blade then followed. [color=#B8860B]"A sense of me?" [/color]

[color=c18ec4]"Yes. Unlike my husband, I'm a very good judge of character.”[/color] Mutya eyed Mahal closely as she studied the girl.[color=c18ec4] “Do you truly think we can win against the Virangish?"[/color] 

Mahal didn't answer immediately. Her hand lifted to curl a strand of hair behind the remains of her ear. She put her thoughts into words, ignoring Mutya's lingering gaze. [color=#B8860B]"Truthfully? I thought not at first, but now… we have dealt some blows and held our own, but we've suffered some losses too. I do know if you don't seize this chance, there might never be another. It's the only truth I know for sure." [/color]

[color=c18ec4]"I appreciate your honesty." [/color]

As she finished her sentence, Mahal hadn't noticed a sudden shift in the surroundings. The animals grew quiet as their presence faded. Trees, once thick, began to thin out. Even the ground beneath her feet became more dirt than leafy litters of decay. Suddenly, she came face to face with a vast clearing of dead trees. The land blacked by fire set freely upon the land until it fizzled out. Stumps, pulled up from their resting spots, were left to rot in piles. At the farthest areas were signs of farmland gradually replacing the once beautiful forest. 

Mahal’s heart sank deep into her stomach. [color=#B8860B]"What happened?" [/color] She whispered.

With venom in her voice, Mutya answered. [color=c18ec4]" The Royal Palapar Trading Co."[/color]

She brushed off an ashen stump then took a seat. Her eyes mourned the loss while she continued. [color=c18ec4]"My husband is a great leader, but he lacks foresight. He doesn't see what I see or dread what I do."[/color]

[color=#B8860B]"And what is it that you dread?" [/color]

[color=c18ec4]"A world where our children never know what it's like to run through thick forests. When the mating cries of the Thunder Tamarins are silenced and the only place to see a goma cat print is on a seal. They tore the woods from their roots and left farmland in their wake, disrespecting it. We tried to stop it, but…" [/color] She trailed off making it clear their efforts failed. 

[color=#B8860B]"Why show me this? This alone should give you reason to join, yet your chieftain hasn't given me an answer." [/color]

[color=c18ec4]"He's waiting for my thoughts. And I wanted to see your reaction to our struggles first. If we put our support behind you, you will ensure Palapar and her sister islands thrive."[/color]

Mahal opened her mouth, but shut it when Mutya rose and placed a hand on her shoulder. [color=c18ec4]"This is something I shall learn with time. First, we need to sleep and you will get our answer in the morning." [/color]

With the conversation ended, the two women returned to the village.
[hr][/hider][h2]Charge of the Islanders: Allies Among the Mist. [/h2][hider=****][sub]Carles 29th, Suvaru.[/sub]

The next morning, Isagani pledged their aid. In the days that followed, Mahal found herself connecting to things she saw and felt more each day. She had started her task from Kilauho then worked her way back to the big island. Each new tribe shared their culture and hopes. Some were difficult, but all of them seemed eager to free themselves from Virang.

As Suvaru came into sight, her eyes lowered to the craving of a thunder tamarin cradled in her palm. A gift from the Kaliyang tribe and proof of their aid to her cause.

[i][color=e14e00]"You'll find Dakila in the deeper parts of the Kabute Forest now. Don't expect a warm welcome. Be careful and don’t trust the mist."[/color][/i] Isagani's warning rang clearly in her head about the last tribe.

A tightness spread across Mahal's chest thanks to the weight of her task. She found it harder to distance herself from these as she had to open herself to them. Internally, this conflict had started to tear her apart and all she could do was focus on not drowning. Why couldn't she stay numb to this? Was she really that weak?

She had no more time to ponder when the waka hit dry land. Her form fell into habit as she pushed over the side and hauled it up onto the shoreline. Once she secured it, an unease settled across her nerves. Her form twisted in place to realize why. Empty sands stretched from her to the fungal forest's edge. No signs of warriors coming to challenge her or even a scout rushing away. Just the sounds of the wildlife echoing among the mushrooms and trees.

[color=#B8860B]"This is new. They aren’t giving me much of a choice, are they?" [/color] Mahal let her question interrupt the silence. She lifted her hand to pet Diyablos. The cephalopod gripped her fingers gently and tugged her closer, sharing her discomfort.

She inhaled. Retrieving her blades from her belt, she walked into the forest. Soon the mist swallowed her up. 

[hr]

Mahal soon lost track of time as she wandered deeper.

She remembered this place from the race during the trials. However, nothing looked familiar. Did she run through here or somewhere else in the forest? The mist gradually thickened, its white embrace limiting her vision. No turning back now, she realized. Her mind turn to the stories she heard as a child.

Cannibals.

Evil spirits.

Shapeshifters trapped with the mists, draining life from children and unborn.

Being here now, she began to wonder if some of them held more truth than she once believed. A subtle pain pounded in her skull followed by an unpleasant tingle the harder she focused. Instinctively, she drew on her fear to sharpen her awareness. It didn't help. This was never an issue until the mist became thicker.

Her blood quickened through her veins as she focused her gift inward. The blurriness began to fade finally. She heard voices whispering ahead now. Mahal tightened her grip upon her daggers and then picked up her pace. No matter how much she walked, the distance stayed the same. Her jaw tightened at the coincidence.

The hair on her neck rose when she entered a clearing. There was nothing here.

Pursing her lips, she turned to the surroundings. [color=#B8860B]"Where are you? I have a message for your chieftain, Dakila. Are you one of his people?" [/color]

Her words echoed off the forest, but the no one answered back. She came to a halt and waited for several long, painful minutes. The only traces of life were her own footsteps. [i]How is that possible? Am I imagining things? Is the mist playing tricks on me?[/i] Mahal wondered as her arms held ready at her sides.

Snap. Something rushed past her and darted back into the forest. Cursing her slowness, Mahal leapt after them. Ground mushed beneath her feet as she jumped over fallen logs and wove through the fungal trees. Her gift empowered her speed and closed on the figure.[color=#B8860B]"Wait, I won't hurt you. Stop!" [/color]

A stone club shot out from her right peripheral. She ground her heels in and pivoted to the left, narrowly avoiding the blow. Slowing to a stop, her eyes took in her attacker.

A man, no older than her, stepped out from the thickest part. His face painted with dark bars to blend into the land. In his hand, the stone mace lowered loosely at his side. A cockiness gleamed in his eyes. [color=c34646]"You're quicker than you look. Why are you trespassing upon our lands?"[/color]

Mahal relaxed and straightened up. [color=#B8860B]"I have a message for your chieftain, are you Dakila?" [/color]

He nodded. [color=c34646]"Yes. Speak it then before we chase you off."[/color]

Mahal's lips curled back before she forced her anger down. [color=#B8860B] "We? I see only you." [/color]

A smile cracked across his serious expression. [color=c34646]"Haven't you heard the stories? Now, speak your message before we feed you to the forest."[/color]

[i]You can try,[/i] Mahal thought, but kept it to herself. [color=#B8860B]"Wouldn't it be better to feed it Virangish blood instead?" [/color]

Dalika arched an eyebrow at her.

Taking the chieftain's interest as permission to continue, she relayed her message. [color=B8860B]"The big island is tossing off the chains of the Virangish as I speak. I've been gathering the tribes to help aid their efforts. Will you join us? Many have already decided to follow and lend their support." [/color]

She pulled out the carving from a pouch and held it out to him. The young man reached for the item and examined it closely. Recognizing the wood and craftsmanship, he shortly returned it. [color=c34646]"This way and be quick. The wildlife will sneak up on you if you fall behind."[/color]

[hr]
All it took was a day's worth of talk before Dakila gave his tribe's support. A young warrior and thushed early into leadership, he yearned to prove his worth in battle. However, he was no fool. She watched him tie a red dyed cloth to an elegant bird’s leg then set it free. It took wing across the forest and toward the sea.

[color=#B8860B]"What was the point of that?"[/color] She asked him, watching the avian become a speck in the distance.

[color=c34646]"It’s a tradition of our tribe. It’s only used when we’re going to war. Much quicker than sending a messenger to all the smaller islands. Not all the warriors are here, we just make our enemies think that."[/color] He turned to get ready to leave. [color=c34646]"Where is our destination now?"[/color]

[color=#B8860B]"Ceboyan." [/color][/hider]