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Post by cerdigon on Mar 22, 2015 14:39:50 GMT
Impulsive.
Rash.
Heretical.
Those were only a few of the words that Lord Captain Tedwyr was muttering to himself as he saddled his horse and made ready to ride. The courtyard of Hakin was full of soldiers of the Royal Bodyguard. Nearly five hundred knights were to make the journey with King Aeron into the Deep Forest and for what!? To chase bloody fairy tales? They were on dangerous grounds...but the King would not listen. Just as he would not listen when Tedwyr had begged him to stay behind when they had assaulted the walls of Mog Bhenholm. It was that deep seeded guilt that drove the bodyguard onwards. Someone had to protect the King. Especially from himself.
'' I feel like the Knights of Old off to find Aed's Sacred Grail! '' Tedwyn's squire, Aelwen, said in a hushed whisper as he hastily loaded his masters saddle bags. The Commander had gone off to bark orders at someone or something that had offended him.
'' Best not let Captain Tedwyr hear you or you'll get your wings clipped. '' His friend and fellow squire Bevan said with a cringe. '' The Lord Cap'n isn't too fond of this journey. ''
'' Hah! Get my wings clipped, then I'd be just like you, wingless. '' Aelwen said with a mock sneer and gave his elf friend a shove. '' Where is your sense of adventure? It's the Deep Forest! There's bound to be wild animals and maybe some Wild Fae Damsels that are in need of rescuing from their virginity! '' Aelwen said with a waggle of his eyebrows and a wink.
'' It's also a forest full of ghosts and heritecs! '' Belven retorted hotly and in a hushed whisper. '' It's a place not many return from! ''
'' If you didn't want adventure, then perhaps you should've stayed cowering in your mothers skirts. ''
Belven felt his temper rising and grabbed the upstart by his shirt, his hand balling into a fist.
'' AELWEN! STOP BLOODY YAPPING AND SADDLE YOUR HORSE! NOW! '' The Lord Captain's booming voice was far more terrifying than the prospect of facing any dark spirit within the forest. As if he was being chased by Aed himself, the squire scrambled towards their respective horses.
Of course, it wasn't just warriors that had been commandeered for the King's journey. Duke Agricola the Explorer was making a few alterations to their route on his map. The Duke and half a dozen surveyors were gathered about the King like gawking mother hens.
'' Your Grace, the Deep Forest is uncharted territory... there are few reliable records on the available paths. '' Ibernus Agricola said, wary of upsetting the King whom was prone to bouts of petulance if he could not get his way. Yet it was not petulance or even excitement that Agricola saw in his King's eyes but determination that bordered on desperation.
When Morwena had mentioned such fantastical items like iron arms and glass eyes, Agricola knew that the King felt it was his one chance to be whole again.
'' I am aware Duke Agricola. It is why I brought you here. You are the finest explorer and most loyal subject within my domain. '' Duke Agricola bowed to his master at such gracious praise and could already feel his insides churning with excitement. Yet another location for the Elf to conquer!
'' We will find a way, Majesty. '' Agricola said, but the King wasn't listening. His gaze was on the strange woman and her scribes that had come to his Privy Council days earlier.
"' Lady Morwena will be accompanying us. She has knowledge of the artifacts and the peoples within the forest. '' The King said, mounting his horse as he surveyed the expedition that had begun to line up. The gates of Hakin rattled open and with a tap of his boots to the flanks of his mount, the march began.
-- Venture into the Deep Forest! This is the opportunity of a lifetime, for the King's own good and the good of the realm. Aeron the Uniter must stop at nothing to reveal the greatness of Fae Civilization. Commit King Aeron Sefti (Monarch) and any other desired retinues to track down the "old relics" for Turn 19-20.
The following retinues are committed to an expedition into the Great Forest from Turn 19-20 to hunt for relics.
-- King Aeron Sefti (Monarch / Spymaster / Administraitor / Warrior-Melee)
-- Captain Gwynedd Tedwyr (Sylph / Warrior / Melee)
-- Duke Agricola (Elf / Explorer)
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Post by aspenivan on Mar 31, 2015 2:16:49 GMT
THE DEEP FOREST TRAIL
With every step more darkness, more trunks and branches packed together on either side. Lord Captain Tedwyr eyed his surroundings nervously...something about this forest was not right. It was a feeling somewhere deep but muddled in his consciousness, a place in the gut few Sylphs had explored much since leaving the Fae World. Except, perhaps, the fluttering figures dressed in hides and furs that swept across the treetops from time to time. These "Deep Forest" folk bothered him, only visible for a second then completely lost in the green void of the woods.
King Aeron's expedition had been traveling for two weeks now...was the Forest really this big? Even with how far North outside of Commonwealth borders it extended on official maps, this haunted wood seemed endless. Yet the King pressed onward.
One day, with his bones feeling as tired as ever and his heart shaking with dread and disillusionment as always, Tedwyr awoke to a strange and ghostly sight. The forest was gone! In its place lay an expanse that bewildered his imagination. Clearly the others saw it too: Soldiers gasped, nobles frowned, even Duke Agricola looked a little disturbed. But Aeron looked as determined as ever.
Three paths. A whisper that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once swept over the small army. Before them lay an open field of snow covered by a deathly winter sky, a swamp wrapped in mist and the sounds of gurgles, and a mountain pass flanked by cliffs higher than the eye could see towering upward into a perfectly clear blue sky...all right next to each other.
__________
THREE PATHS
Choose one of the following...
1. The snowy field: It's flat and open, good for a long march! And easy to see to the horizon! Though it's rather cold...
2. The misty swamp: It's the one that looks most like the forest after all. We're not after Snow Folk or Mountain Folk after all!
3. The mountain pass: It's straightforward, and it's not going to kill us with cold or swamp sickness! The straight and narrow path must be the way!
4. Some other way: This illusion is strange on its own, but perhaps it is doubly deceptive. Maybe the three paths don't each correspond to an actual path...maybe they are all one! Or maybe geography and fate and Aed have already determined what will happen, and these "three paths" aren't even important at all!
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Post by cerdigon on Mar 31, 2015 14:35:59 GMT
'' WITCHERY! '' Lord Captain Tedwyr roared. His sword drawn but there was no enemy to slay.
Like many in the King's army, they were utterly perplexed by the vastly different environments
that rippled out before them, distorting space and time in equal measure. The King for his part
looked more annoyed than troubled.
'' ---- should turn back. '' Agricola said, putting forth his charts and maps that had none of
the mountain passes, stretching fields, or cursed swamps that seemed to drag on forever.
'' There will be no turning back Agricola! '' King Aeron declared, desperation both in his eyes and
his voice. '' Promises were made. '' He murmured in a low whisper, eyes traveling to
Lady Morwenna whom had wisely kept her distance from the party as she consulted with her scribes
a set of dusty tomes. Tedwyr pitied the woman if she was unable to keep her word to his maimed liege.
'' There is an old Fae legend. '' Lady Morwenna said, speaking finally. '' The King's of Asteron and Ayar had long been oppressed by their neighbor Theopolis to the North. They gathered a mighty host together, their victory all but assured as they drove the Theopolians back to their cursed black city in battle after battle. Yet Theopolis was ruled by a cruel Witch King. In order to confuse the allied armies, he conjured up three paths. To ensure their chances of success, the armies split their forces along the trails. Yet the paths did not end. They stretched on and on. Both the Asteran and Ayar armies were condemned to a long, slow death. It's said that to this day the armies roam the false paths, crying out at their betrayal and the injustice of their defeat, the cold seeping into their bones and the howling winds tearing at their flesh. Theopolis was always on the horizon, yet they could never reach the lair of the Witch.''
'' Enough with your old wives tales woman! '' Agricola snorted but it seemed the story was enough to convince the King of his next course of action.
'' This is naught but an illusion! '' King Aeron declared to the massed party. '' Put forth
by the Fae folk to keep us from their treasures. But we will not be deterred! '' The ferocity
in those words meant there was no room for retreat. Forward even unto death.
'' Agricola. Find us another way. I don't care how or where. '' He said, waving his hand in
the direction of the vastly different environments as if he could make them disappear
with but a wave of his royal gauntlet. The elf scowled before making his way towards Lady Morwena.
Perhaps she had some ancient maps of the Deep Forest that the Duke could consult.
He had dismissed this '' scholar '' out of hand as nothing more than a fraud.
Desperate times called for desperate measures however.
Meanwhile, the party began the long process of breaking down their camp as they
had in weeks past. The relentless march into oblivion was to continue.
4. Some other way: This illusion is strange on its own, but perhaps it is doubly deceptive.
Maybe the three paths don't each correspond to an actual path...maybe they are all one!
Or maybe geography and fate and Aed have already determined what will happen, and these
"three paths" aren't even important at all!
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Post by aspenivan on Apr 18, 2015 6:22:58 GMT
Months passed by, but they felt like years. Time passed at a snail's pace in the Deep Forest, where the sun was hardly visible beneath the thick canopies of ever-green. What season was it? What time of day? Near-impossible to tell in this terrain, where the climate never seemed to change. The army could not even send a scout to fly above the treetops, for the foliage was too thick and the branches too wicked. Some soldiers wondered whether this was all just a fever dream, or whether they were even still alive.
Yet, supplies seemed to endure even the timeless expanse of the woods. When bread rations were exhausted, the caravan came upon nuts and berried that both Lady Morwenna and Duke Agricola confirmed were safe to eat. When water gourds ran dry, scouts seemed to come upon clean streams as if by magic. Clearly some force, whether of Aed or something more sinister, truly wanted King Aeron to reach his desination.
And then, of course, there were the Deep Forest Folk. Most avoided the large party of outsiders altogether, sighted rarely clinging to trees or fluttering about in the distance. On a few occasions the Sefti King's procession encountered a village, where with much difficulty Morwenna and Agricola could use their linguistic knowledge to decipher the strange forest-dwellers' bewildering dialect. Directions, some extra food, and occasionally a volunteer to accompany the party.
Finally, King Aeron beheld the site he had been looking for. A vast ruin, marked by a single signpost in ancient elvish script: "Theopolis this way." It was an eery and bizarre sort of ruined city. The forest was entirely cleared here, but so was everything else...only stone foundations remained, not a single column or tile or wall. It was as if everything beyond the base of the city, all color and life and history, had simply been deleted in a great cataclysm all at once.
"It is said," Lady Morwenna commented solemnly, "that Theopolis withstood all attempts at siege and assault. It only fell when, in a fit of rage, its ancient Sorcerer-Lord destroyed all he had helped create and defend for so long. Ever unsatisfied with his people and their customs, no matter how often he tried to change them by decree after decree, he finally consumed it all in fire, even the great Forum of Theopolis at the city's center. The only structures we might find here are those that were built after." As she spoke, scouts caught sight of a single intact building. A strange red brick structure with furnace-pipes extending from its roof. And inside, something spectacular...
_____
When King Aeron Sefti emerged from the forests back into the light of open farmland and proper roads, his entire expedition was intact. But something else was intact, something that had been broken before...the left side of hid body. A wing of strange but beautiful glass, light enough for flight but hardy enough to stay intact. And an arm of bronze, two cylinders attached to one another and to the sylph-elf's shoulder by gears like a miniature mill. There was no hand, but in his saddle bags the King carried plenty of tools he could attach where one should be: A hook, a sword, a shield, a scepter, a cup, and many more useful items.
And as luck would have it, when he returned to his capital the next day, a young sylph woman in a noble fur cloak and surrounded by sylph soldiers in Southern garb awaited him.
"King Aeron Sefti, I presume? Kaelei Llewelyn, heir of the House of my name." She bowed to the sylph king, but also offered a wry smile. She was well aware that her marriage was a move of political expedience. "I heard you needed a navy, milord. It has arrived."
Everything seemed to be working out perfectly for the King of the Commonwealth. But already, something was a little off...he kept remembering a strange battle he didn't remember participating in...
__________
-- King Aeron Sefti gains trait Alchemical Machinery: +1 Splendor. Increased flight duration and strength, bonus to combat and endurance. Strange occurences may befall.
-- Sefti-Cerdigonian Commonwealth gains Permanent, Non-Replaceable retinue Queen Kaelei Llewelyn-Sefti (Admiral [Carrack]/Merchant).
-- Commonwealth gains an Arsenal in Thesus / District 4.
-- Commonwealth gains 1 Caravel Squadron and 4 Galiot Squadrons.
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Post by cerdigon on Apr 29, 2015 1:50:45 GMT
'' Pirates, knaves, scoundrels! Imperial Justice will see the Jarl hanged I'm sure. '' Anghard Llewelyn said confidently for what must have been the hundredth time.
'' Yes father. '' Kaelei Llewelyn replied for the hundredth time, squeezing the Sylph's hand as the wizened old man flickered back and forth between lucidity and delirium. Today was a good day for the former merchant lord, while his mind was no longer sharp, even he could remember the Rape of Leoten as it was being called that had taken place months earlier. A heavily pregnant Kalei Llewelyn , only daughter and heir of Anghard and House Llewelyn turned towards her husband whom had been remarkably quiet to gain his perspective on the matter now that an Imperial Trial had been declared.
King Aeron was brooding in the corner, his eyes were pinned on Anghard yet at the same time they were distant. It was as if he was watching events play over and over again in his minds eye.
'' Husband. '' Kaelei said softly at first and then more sternly. She released her grip on her father to run her fingertips along his bronze arm. A static shock stung her hand and snapped the King out of whatever trance he had found himself in.
'' Yes... '' Aeron said groggily, his faculties returning to him slowly. Visions of a battle had appeared before him, two sides crashing together in a storm of steel. The taste of blood and iron filled his mouth and it was only after a long draught of wine that his speech returned. Now that sharp glint returned in his eyes..
'' Yes father, I am sure justice will be served. I have sent for King Pedro to join me in New Byrnis as well as Chief Priest Fahuan. I am sure the Vizier in her wisdom will see the justice in our cause. '' Kaelei, even in their brief time together, knew when her husband was lying. King Aeron was going to the Imperial Court expecting the worst. The treatment of the Jotun after the sack of Leoten by the Empire had been appalling, even Kaelei would have to admit it. Rewarding the Jotun with even more coin after they had looted Leoten had only incensed her husband all the more.
'' I find myself loathe to leave you. '' Aeron confessed, his words genuine.
'' The Prince will wait another day before making his entrance. '' Queen Kaelei said with a hint of a smile. '' He has a knack for timing like his father I'm sure. ''
'' I will leave the Realm in your care in my absence. '' Aeron said, his fingers tightening around her hand as he pulled her closer.
'' Do not worry husband, while you extend one hand in peace, I will coil the other for war if we do not have satisfaction. '' Kaelei Llewelyn said, the steel in her eyes matching that of her husband.
SUMMARY:
-- King Aeron Sefti prepares to attend the Trial declared by the Vizier along with his Co-Monarch King Pedro.
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Post by cerdigon on May 8, 2015 2:36:55 GMT
A bloodshot eye slowly came into focus, the drip, drip, drip of a wine tankard emptying out onto the floor slowly filling his eardrums. The taste of metal and blood was in his mouth, gnarled hands grabbing the end of the table and pushing himself slowly upwards as his senses focused towards the doorway. Golden light shot through, making the elf wince at its ferocity. He was spared the assault when a figure darkened the doorway.
He was a big bastard.
It was the only thought that crossed his mind as like an infant the Sylph picked him up by the scruff of the neck and held him out for inspection. A thin reedy man came from behind the Fae, fingertips seizing his dirtied face the way a farmer inspects a horse before it is bought.
'' Sir Vaughn. I hardly recognize you. Or your merry band of men. '' He said, releasing the knight and casting a broad sweep of his arm around the tavern. The man had a high pitched voice. It grated on Vaughn's nerves with every word he uttered. More and more armed men were fanning out across the tavern and waking his brothers, most of whom were still deep in their cups. It had been a long night at the Drunken Ox, full of drinking, whoring, and gambling as usual...and many wouldn't wake from their slumber until late in the afternoon. Steel rattled to the floor as they were relieved of their weapons.
'' I am a Knight of the Order of the Crown, knave! Identify yourself! '' Vaughn said, intending to draw himself up to his full height. Instead he collapsed in a fit of coughing as a wave of nausea hit him. He vomited all over his boots, the Fae that had seized him taking a step backwards in disgust.
'' Correction. '' The high pitched voice said. '' You were a Knight of the Order of the Crown. Yes, you were given the pardon after the War but your Order is a dead one. '' Vaughn scowled, hands balling into fists. It was true. The Order of the Crown had fought for Queen Athinea during the War of Succession. Like all veterans of the conflict, the 'rebels' had been given pardons by the King Aeron. But the castles and lands of the Order of the Crown had not been so fortunate. They had been seized and many of the Order's younger members departed to live the life as landless knights or to find service in that of new lords. Vaughn lead the last roving band of them. They had been living as mercenaries, guarding caravans that made their way south towards Nevara. From five hundred... they were now less than fifty.
'' You still haven't told me who you are. '' Vaughn said, wiping his mouth.
'' I am Seneschal to Duke Mabon of Powys. My name is Neiren. '' He said, hiding his face behind a gaudy pink kerchief.
'' What does one of the Marcher Lords want with me? ''
'' You are aware that King Aeron has demanded the Northern Marches be fortified? ''
'' Cheap land and freedom from taxes.... Though I suppose the posters left out the part about the occasional Wastelander raiders, the Fae folk from the forest, oh and lets not forget, the bloody Ikagami over the mountains! The frontier will be the first to experience any Ikagami attack. ''
'' Quite so. '' Neiren replied cheerfully.
'' You should be looking at the opportunities however. The Duke is seeking experienced and battle hardened men such as yourself. Think of it as a chance to start fresh. '' His cheerful voice didn't miss a beat as he offered the knight his kerchief to wipe the grime from his face.
Upon seeing the knights dubious look, the cheerful turned darker.. '' Or... the Guardsman here could arrest you. A lot of damage was done to the Ox last night. '' It was only now Vaughn was beginning to see all the broken tables, chairs, and one or two sprawled bodies that lay in broken heaps..
'' You could spend the next few months in Duke Mabon's jails until the debts here are repaid. Though, you look terribly short of coin.. '' The Seneschal said, hefting a weighty purse.. '' Or I could take care of the debt for you and we could be on our way within the hour... ''
'' What do you say? '' Neiren said, smile going wider, his voice higher with excitement.
'' I'll take the job. '' Vaughn said, his voice barely above a whisper.
'' I beg pardon, what did you say sir? ''
'' I SAID I'LL TAKE THE BLOODY JOB. '' The knight shouted before another fit of coughing overtook him.
'' Excellent. '' Neiren said, stepping out of range out of his spittle.
'' Give these men some time to recuperate... then we ride for Bannock. '' It was the northernmost village in the Kingdom and the true edge of civilization.
Aed help him.
SUMMARY:
-- The Marcher Lords begin mustering men to defend the Northern Frontier.
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Post by aspenivan on May 18, 2015 22:26:08 GMT
It was the worst dream Aeron had ever had. The stench of death was everywhere, and he was drenched in blood. The sun was setting on a field of corpses that stretched as far as the eye could see, but closer to Aeron living elves and animals were popping out of the ground like grain-stalks. Each time a new one rose, he cut it down with a fury, sending a spray of blood into his face and eyes. Soon his arm was growing weary, but he couldn't stop. All of them had to die. Dogs, cats, children, horses, men, women. Heads cracked open, arms hung from bodies by a string, ribs crunched, and all manner of cries and screams and gurgles rose from terrified mouths.
Why can't I stop? the king wondered. By now his arm-muscles were burning and the point where bronze met flesh was bleeding. But he kept hacking away. They all have to die...
King Aeron Sefti awoke with a start, panting and drenched in a cold sweat. But not just a cold sweat...the blood was real. It took a moment for the half-elf to come to, but when he did he choked in horror and disgust at the scene. He was standing in a large shack, the one where the family of his palace gardener lived. Or used to live. The elf and his entire family lay strewn about in front of Aeron: The man and five brothers, seven sisters, twelve children, three elders. And the animals too: Fifteen chickens, two horses, two dogs, two cats. Somehow he had caught them or brought them all to the shack and slaughtered them in his sleep. He was standing ankle-deep in blood, and every face he could see was frozen in absolute horror, except for those pummeled to a pulp beyond all recognition.
And then, there was another face. A face only half-alive, with one normal eye and one that looked like a spyglass on a body that looked like a suit of bronze armor and clockwork.
"Good job, oh King of the Sylphs," the figure announced, bowing ever-so-slightly and revealing a pair of mechanical wings much like Aeron's replacement. "The Line of Gladewing is dead, and I am avenged for the arm and wing you carry. Consider this the first installment of your payment for your purchase." The unnamed sylph grinned widely but spoke condescendingly. "Little King, it is said among brigands that a murder for a glove is a fair trade, but since we are not equals I cannot offer those terms. The line of Cerdigon is young and uncertain, but my line is old and great. Though I suppose even dogs receive crumbs off the table of their masters, so I am willing to offer you something for the thirty or so you've delivered me.
"I am more than an arm and a wing, as you can see. You can increase your strength and abilities to my own, piece by piece, for every line of my enemies you snuff out. Or, if you prefer, for every line I can offer you a service - a murder perhaps, or a haunting? Of course, you can refuse the deal entirely, but in that case I'll have to resort to coercion. And that can get rather messy, as you know now..." The sylph chuckled, and then balked, and then laughed. And then it disappeared.
Moments later, the door opened behind Aeron. It was Captain Gwynedd - the younger, son and heir of Tedwyr.
"My lord..." the young man gaped in astonishment. "What happened here?"
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