I’m happy to swap to something else if someone feels their idea is being stolen from them.
DELETED32084 Banned
- Last Seen: 3 yrs ago
- Joined: 9 yrs ago
- Posts: 920 (0.27 / day)
- VMs: 2
-
Username history
- DELETED32084 3 yrs ago
- ██████████ 6 yrs ago
- ██████████████ 6 yrs ago
- ████████ 9 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
@The Wyrm However the general populace knew them well leading to inquisitors finding them easily.
I feel like you know something I don't...
@The Wyrm I had no idea you were doing an Investigator too.
No harm in more than one surviving the whole thing. They seem like they'd manage since they wouldn't be surrounded by Clone Troopers when the Order comes down.
My god is every one playing a Sentinel now?
The only accepted character so far is a non-Jedi...
I'm not huge on my Jedi skills and Canon/Legends. I just enjoy Star Wars. I've taken my best shot at it, let me know if it works!
Naysein took the stone stairs to the battlements two at a time, her feet making no sound as they sped over the white/black stone that muffled the roar of the army beyond. Arrows flickered overhead through the smoky air, a hissing sound marking their passage when they came to close before clattering down into the courtyard beyond. Soldiers ducked back as they loosed arrows and she noted that more than a few had been fallen in return by Orcish weapons. One young soldier, she doubted he was more than two score seasons, lay dead with a look of surprise on his face and an arrow that had driven up under his chin. A trickle of blood ran down his chin and already she could see the bruising around the throat that suggested heavy internal bleeding.
She gained the top of the stairs just in time to see the Prince flinch back from an arrow that spun crazily away after striking his shoulder pauldron. As he ducked back behind a crenellation, she heard him call out to the Drow, Zatana. A brief glance registered the presence of the skilled fighter and Naysein dismissed her at once, she was more than capable of handling herself and no one expected Naysein to keep her alive.
Soldiers were already rushing to do the Princes bidding and she steel flashed as they hacked through the ropes. Some of the more devious waited until the ugly heads appeared at the edge of the parapet before hacking down. The wails of the falling creatures brought a smile to her face. For her own part she drew a single blade and then, with the grace of her kind, she began to kill those orcs who could still make it to the top of their rope, a single thrust into the eye, and they would tumble away to join the growing pile at the bottom of the wall.
She had missed this.
She gained the top of the stairs just in time to see the Prince flinch back from an arrow that spun crazily away after striking his shoulder pauldron. As he ducked back behind a crenellation, she heard him call out to the Drow, Zatana. A brief glance registered the presence of the skilled fighter and Naysein dismissed her at once, she was more than capable of handling herself and no one expected Naysein to keep her alive.
Soldiers were already rushing to do the Princes bidding and she steel flashed as they hacked through the ropes. Some of the more devious waited until the ugly heads appeared at the edge of the parapet before hacking down. The wails of the falling creatures brought a smile to her face. For her own part she drew a single blade and then, with the grace of her kind, she began to kill those orcs who could still make it to the top of their rope, a single thrust into the eye, and they would tumble away to join the growing pile at the bottom of the wall.
She had missed this.
Naysein
Humans... She has to resist the urge to duck as she walked through some of the lower doorways. It was something she had never quite got over, the memory of how large she was in her true form and how she would have had to jam her head through the opening to blast those hiding within. The walls seemed close, even here, and she resisted the urge to touch the stone. The Imperial Palace was at least large and open, a space that anyone could find inviting. Her own nest had, no was, large enough to fit her comfortably. It had once been a palace for an Elven King who had died before she was hatched; a maze of finely carved rooms, rose shrouded pathways and thousands of arches that opened onto mountains cut deep with a thousand rivers; her home. A far cry from human settlements with all their closed in living spaces and echoing stone hallways.
Her senses, barely dulled by her mortal form, were working overtime as she followed the soldier through the long corridors and up narrow stairs. She could smell him, the slightly gamey odour of a man in armour, the sausage and eggs that had been cooked for breakfast, wood smoke, the smell of thousands of folk crammed together, and above it, the sharp smell of a fresh storm. It was the same smell she herself would have made once upon a time after blasting a foe with lightening. A ripple of sorrow coursed through her as she thought of it and she pushed the memory down. Now was not the time.
"In here, lady." The soldier nodded to a door on his right, a big wooden double leaf reinforced with iron. It would be a beast to try and break down, and they were already deep into the heart of the citadel. She nodded her thanks to soldier who was already hurrying back toward the wall with a clanking urgency that reminded her of a knight who had tried running from her back when she a youngling. She smiled to herself and stepped into the room.
It was largely empty now save for several pages, a noble she did now know and, framed by the rooms only window and hunched over the lone table, was the tall lanky form of the Keeper of Secrets. The room was warmed by a smouldering fire and several torches that cast flickering light over the impassive faces of its occupants, all of which swivelled to look at her as she strode in. The ragged cloak she had worn to penetrate the enemy lines was gone and replaced with a simple blue-black that curled around her ankles and hugged her form. Scimitars jutted over either shoulder and her fiddle case was strapped beneath the cloak - giving her an hunchbacked appearance.
Well, well... She had known Balthazar was going to be present but had hoped to find the Prince before the older man. She had a grudging respect for humans in general, but quite specifically for this man. The ability of humans to learn and master immense skills and talents in their short lifetimes was impressive and Balthazar had exceeded that of most in even less time.
"My Lord Trevarthen." She stopped, placed a hand on her chest and inclined her head. The grey head came up and steel grey eyes stared into brilliant blue as they regarded each other across the table.
Balthazar stared at the half-elf as she entered, raising a single eyebrow as she drew close. She had been around longer than he had, and yet, she was as young as ever. Once, she was the part of the previous Empress' handmaidens, and then she was a part of the current Empress' guard. The Empress had died in childbirth, but her son, Leonidas, lives on. This girl was there too-- having educated the Young Prince on the arts. It was no exaggeration to say that Balthazar had known this woman for most of his life.
"Naysein." He returned the nod, as he stared into her eyes, the faintest hint of a smile on his face. The warlock had not seen her in months, and meeting an old friend again put him at ease. "...I was not informed of your arrival." Balthazar did not enjoy surprises, but this one was... pleasant, by all accounts. "What brings you here? A message from the Emperor?"
"I will admit I did not send word. I slipped through the orcish lines not an hour ago." She allowed a smile to flow onto her own face. She liked this man, more than most mortals, and wondered what a pair they might have made had no secrets of her own to keep. "It is good to see you though. I have finally managed to convince his imperial highness to release me to serve the prince once again."
"...So I see. I will not turn away your aid-- we are much better off with you at our side." Balthazar echoed the same sentiment to her, though he did not say it. He knew that she kept secrets that even he did not know of, but so long as they aligned with the goals of the Empire, then he felt no need to take action.
Besides... it would be a shame to be rid of one of the few people he could truly say he trusted.
Remembering his decorum, the spymaster turned to the other man in the room. "...Duke Karstilli, I would to introduce you to Naysein. She was part of the old Queensguard before I was even born." Balthazar gestured to her, before continuing. "Her skills and talents will be useful in the times to come."
She bowed, hand on chest, to the Duke who gave her a curt nod and returned to his work. She did not mind. Being largely dismissed by folk had its uses. "I suspect this promised battle is likely more important than a reunion, we can do that later," A promising smile touched her lips. "Where can I best be of use, m'lord?"
He simply nodded at that. "Of course." Balthazar then gestured to the map of the city and the region surrounding it. There were pieces on the board that represented the forces of both sides: red for the attackers, and blue for the defenders. There were also other pieces that represented other things, such as a block of wood to detail siege weaponry, or a smaller blue token to represent a member of the Royal Guard.
"There are siege ladders to the east, Orcs to the north, battering rams to the west, and sappers in the city's sewer systems." He explained concisely, pointing to each token as he did so. "The north is where the fighting is heaviest. It is also where you will find Prince Leonidas-- I recommend you report to him and lend him your assistance." Balthazar was certain the Prince would appreciate it, and moreover, Naysein could watch over him in his absence. It was unlikely Zatana would make any moves against the royal scion, but he was more concerned that Leonidas would do something equally rash as his Drow Companion did yesterday.
"...any questions?" He raised an eyebrow. This question was mostly made out of formality, rather than any real doubts to her ability. After all, if anyone could watch over the Prince, it would be his mentor during his youth.
"None at all, my lord. I am, as always, impressed by your preparation." She was conscious of the pages boys gaze upon her now that they realized she was someone of importance - an attractive someone at that. "I will seek out the prince at once and lend what meager aid I can." There would be time enough later to ask Balthazar more questions but she had always enjoyed the trust that existed between them. It was a nice thing to have after so many years alone.
"If you require me, or my services, send one of these handsome young lads to find me." She offered them all a final smile and a bow before turning and making her way out of the room, hips swaying ever so slightly.
Naysein
"For the first time in nearly two thousand years, I have no path."
Goblins and Orcs. Tasteless, filthy, and utterly repugnant; more worthless and useless races she had rarely seen in her mortal lifetimes on this plane. What purpose did they serve? She had no idea, but she knew they could still kill her if she wasn't careful.
Now, as she knelt by the treeline running her eyes over their encampment she found herself wondering once again how she had come to this. A dragon, the greatest of the realms beasts, reduced to being worried about orcs and goblins who she would have once turned to ash without a second thought. Two goblins lay dead nearby, not a mark upon them, but blood leaked from their eyes and mouth to show poison had been at work here.
She licked her lips, she could still feel the oily film, that her breath weapon left behind when she used it. She had once forgotten about it and then watched in morbid fascination as a drunken male who had kissed her died in the mud with a bloody froth spilling from his lips. Since then she had done it more than a few times simply to amuse herself.
Light flared briefly to the right and she moved at once, darting across the open ground and into the first line of ragged shelters. Orcs, as she well knew, were easily blinded by light, even if briefly, and it was useful to move when one of them threw a log on their fires. She wasn't much taller than an orc herself and the ragged cloak she wore would serve to confuse anyone long enough for her to kill them.
She moved quickly through the encampment, her nose wrinkling at the stench of the open latrine pits; how orcs did not die of disease always amazed her. Most of the orcs and goblins here were asleep, or sharpening weapons, muttering away in their guttural language that she understood but would never bring herself to speak. Only once did she encounter a more alert sentry whose eyes widened in surprise when he saw her. He opened his mouth to give a shout and died as a scimitar slid from its scabbard, sliced once, and slid home again in one fluid movement. He was dead before he hit the ground.
The ground between the encampment and the city was largely cleared by the garrison to provide a killing ground for archers. She crossed it by crab walking a long ditch that was held in deeper shadow, her hood pulled low. An army or even a large scaling force would have certainly caused the goblins to notice but a single figure darting through the shadows was completely unremarkable.
The real problem came when she reached the moat. Reeds had grown tall here and the stagnant water almost smelled worse than the Orcish latrines. She looked up at the high walls and pondered her options before pulling out a small flute and playing a sharp tune. Within moments she saw the outline of a helmeted head appear at the edge of the crenellations. She couldn't see the eyes in the shadow but knew that they were probing the shadow. She caused a small light to flare in her hand, lighting up her face and the Imperial insignia she carried around her neck.
The face vanished and she could hear a muttered conference before a knotted rope sailed over the battlement. She caught it before it hit the water and then gave a sharp tug and leapt toward the moat. High above her strong hands heaved and she shot skyward without ever touching the water. Her feet flashed as she walked up the wall until the crenelations were beneath her hands and she stood in a gap between the stones. Two soldiers faced her with crossbows levelled, though they lowered them as soon as they saw she was clearly no orc or goblins.
"Thank you for the lift fellows. Lady Naysein, to see the Prince."
One bowed and gestured into the city. "Of course, follow me, lady."
Chapter 2
The Pursuit
The 6th Dragoons, bloodied and having suffered its first losses, remained in the small village for two days as the least of the wounded rested and those who could recovered their courage. For some the vision of what was to come was to much and they deserted during the long nights punctured by the boom of cannons around Darmstadt. It was a herald of things to come.
On the second day, beneath ominous dark grey skies, the 6th began to move out. The wind had freshened from the South bringing with it the sweet smell of rain and the first drops that "plinked" against helmets as troopers pulled themselves into the saddle. Few spoke as scabbards clinked against stirrups and spurs, instead ensuring their powder would remain dry, most wrapping rags or leather around their carbine breaches to keep out the threatened cloud burst.
A-Squadron was chosen to lead the advance and they moved out quickly across the bridge where the first of their friends had died. The stones were still stained with blood and the butchered carcasses of horses lay nearby. A mound of fresh earth and stone showed where those had died lay buried but nothing else served to remember who had died.
Hecht forced himself not to look down at the blood as he rode across the bridge. He felt his guts twisting as they rode, he hadn't been able to shit in two days as fear clenched at him. The woods where the Imperial cannon had been seated were empty now as they passed into them, riding among thick trees, the cannon dragged away to be used by the Rhaetian forces ahead of them.
The crackle of musketry echoed down the long valley, pushed by the ever freshening wind that now plucked at horsehair plumes and jacket lapels. Above the long column of riders the clouds continued to build in a dramatic fashion, made all the more impressive by sunlight striking them from the west. The first rumble of thunder rolled across the land and Hecht saw lightening crackle through the clouds; he had never seen anything like it.
The river was to their right now, running hard and fast southward toward the promised battle. A few bodies in yellow coats lay tumbled next to the road as they went, dark stains showing where blood had seeped from wounds. One, a drummer boy of no more than twelve, was curled around his small drum, the stomach wound that had killed him would not have done so quickly.
There was little conversation in the ranks as they rode and still the rain held back. The clouds looked like massive towers as they advanced toward Hecht and A-squadron in the far distance. They were close enough now to see the first of the powder smoke smearing the skyline and the sound of individual cannon were easy to determine. Hecht swallowed and clutched his reins more tightly with a silent prayer to whatever gods might be listening.
© 2007-2026