The woman spoke quietly to Brackson, "yes, I can see your earnest belief in your emperor. My own emperor charged me only to see the truth. My skills are not so good with magick to perform spells on your emperor without being heard, myself. I merely observed to ensure Zenos came in good faith." She offered Brackson a drink she pulled from a nearby table, water as it seemed. "I hold no resentment towards you, and I hope you none to me."
Martin nodded, "I appreciate your forgiveness, it is why I wanted to be honest with you. I cannot foster a friend if I keep secrets from you. I just needed an assurance to myself and my anxieties that you were a friend to be. We exist in an era where the future is so uncertain. Alliances and friendships are coming apart and the comfortable history is becoming an uncomfortable future. I act in the capacity of a sovereign who has had an empire so content with its present it expects this present age to last indefinitely. But the loss of Maharajah because of forced intervention has sent a shiver through the spine of the empire. The time of certainty is ending, but with the end of certainty is the beginning of a new age where we can charge ahead. What we stand to gain through action is far greater than what we stand to lose through inaction. What say you?"
Brackson took the water, looking it over as he responded, "No resentment here to you personally, seer. Following the orders of your Emperor is only the right thing for a servant to do. You were doing your job, as I was doing mine." Finally looking away from the water, he then gave her a glare, "Now I do sure hope this ain't poison, or else you'd really be breaching my trust here."
But, after just a moment to gauge her reaction, Brackson smiled and chuckled, revealing it was a joke, "Heh, not that I am actually worried about being poisoned here, that would be pretty obvious now wouldn't it? But nothing for me anyways. This ain't Instabull, we Rangians have an image to keep up when we're outside Zantium proper. So gonna have to handle the thirst later." He put the water back down on the table, leaning his head back, "You can probably tell that I'm on good terms with my Emperor. How about you, Court Witch? You know Martin personally at all, or is it just a job? Just curious if this was a mere assignment, or a more long term arrangement like I've got. Though I'd be surprised if you were quite as long term as I am."
Zenos sighed, nodding his head in understanding, "This is certainly an era of uncertainty that we are coming into. Everything is moving fast, old status quos are changing or dying. And I suppose that with how much longer lived your people are in comparison to me, it'll be even more apparent. So I can forgive the anxiety."
"But a time of change does not mean the change must be negative. Frankly, my Empire is well due some change." Zenos looked Martin in the eye as he continued, his tone carrying a hint of sorrow, "The last era of certainty, as you called it, carries a different meaning for Zantines. These last generations of Zantines have had one certainty above all; that we are decaying. Before it was dramatically, and with some glory attached. For more recent times, it was certain our once proud Empire would continue to shrink bit by bit, more and more just a husk of our great legacy. Once the greatest Empire of the Nebula, now a rump state. Too weak to take action, too fearful of losing what is left, so all we've been able to do is stand back. And yet still inaction for us has been just loss, slowly but certainly..."
Balling a hand into a fist, Zenos purged that sorrow, and replaced it with resolve, "So it is safe to say that your words are true. Inaction has gained nothing. The only ones that seems to work for are the Anubites. But this Union, and all that has happened recently gives me a chance to reinvigorate my people. So I say, Martin... Let's create a new age. Take this chance to break the complacency in both our Empires, and remind the galaxy why our two nations bear the name 'Empire' in the first place." He stepped up to Martin and held out a hand to the Hurvecht Emperor. It did look a little silly given the size difference. But not much more silly than Zenos shaking hands with a Taurus, he was used to it.
She held a straight face and when he revealed his joke, she simply moved on. Brackson realised that of course she could read the truth from his lips already, she knew he was making a joke before he even revealed himself. So it was reckoned a person who already knew sarcasm was coming, or a joke was going to be told before it could even be completed, would naturally be very joyless. “My good sir, you shall find you are in quite safe hands here on Bezembay. And poison may be the weapon of a woman, and that goes double for a Witch I suppose.” She smiled a bit. “Yes, I am a retainer of the Emperor. I hold office and rank in the court in exchange for service to His Imperial Majesty. All Court Sorcerers are personally obligated to the Emperor. His Majesty has need for a few of us. But forgive me, I am The Court Sorcerer Margaret Haddington, Witch of Pfardenland. But there are five of us in total, there is The Wizard Michael Sullivan of Shipping Downs, The Wizard Edgar Jenkins of Emerald Hanger, the Witch Elizabeth Holmes of Cheshilt Valley, and the Wizard Edward Kelvin of Erweinz Folding. The Wizard Sullivan is His Majesty’s Lord Wizard, he sits on the Privy Council now. The rest of us serve various roles, as you might imagine. Though the Wizard Sullivan is here today.” She pointed at a well groomed middle aged Hurvecht in a suit, he blended in with the rest of the crowd of noblemen in stately suits and uniform. There was nothing about him that particularly denoted him as the chief wizard of the empire, but maybe that was the point. The Witch Pfardenland however wore a stately uniform, but with a unique robe over it. She looked nigh academic, almost like a university professor. Her scholarly robe worn over a suit was telling of her position.
Martin took the Emperor’s hand and smiled. “Good, then we have struck a covenant. Our Empire’s will strive to make this future ours.” Martin approached the center of the room and stood proudly, simply towering over the human emperor in size. “My good Zenos, will you submit to the covenant? Will you pledge yourself to the cause of the Brother-Empires? Will you do all you can to break the chains that ensnare you and march into the future?” Martin spoke in a stern and commanding tone. This must have been the rumours Zenos had heard, this Martin was much different than the one he had met some months prior on Minos.
That thought hadn't come to Brackson's mind until this moment, though now in hindsight it should have been rather obvious to him. Minus one point for his joke, it seems. Not a total failure in his mind however, as he did get a smile in one roundabout way. "Witches are indeed famous for their poisons, so pays to be careful, eh? Even if I don't know too much about witches around these parts. All the same, pleasure to greet you properly, Court Sorcerer Margaret. To return the favor, I am Lord-Captain Brackson of the Rangian Vanguard. And before you ask, I do not have a last name. We Rangians surrender those, and only regain them upon retirement."
He looked back as she pointed out Sullivan, glacing at the Hurvecht, "He certainly blends in with the rest of the court. Not as willing for a Hurvecht to show magical prowess in public? Still, five mages on personal call for the Emperor. Seems somebody has decided it pays to be prepared. I would suppose that if you are the Truthseer, then the other four likely have other specializations. At least one I am sure is dedicated to counter other magical influences. What the others could be, can't say I would know. Never been my area of expertise. What are the other three wizards like?"
The rumors certainly rang true, Zenos could tell. He really did have to wonder what triggered this transformation in such a period of time, he had to admit something felt a bit off here. All the same, being towered over was not new for Zenos, but he did frown a bit at the mention of submitting to the Covenant, "The cause is one that is worthy, and I have promised my people to restore our glory. But before I can agree to anything in full, Martin, I must ask of you something. You are quite different from last we spoke. You have far more conviction about you, it is impressive. And yet such a change rarely comes out of nowhere, in my opinion. What has happened to push you down this path? I take my route because I must, but from where does your conviction arise?"
The witch nodded, "very ceremonial. To be surrendering names is something only the creach do in our society. And even then they only do it to take a clan name." She moved to sit in some nearby chairs. "If you do not own it now it is still yours, it is just being held by another. So you do still have a surname. Or at the very least there is a land you come from. I am the Witch of Pfardenland as you heard. It is a relatively small plain on the moon of Dernby. Just a village really, and barely that. Only thing my village was known or was growing rapeseed. Tell me captain, where do you come from?"
As she was speaking the rest of the room seemed to be relaxing as well, realising that Martin and Zenos were not occupied in a quick private word but rather a longer conversation. Indeed, some Bezannians even left the room and went out onto the balcony. Others were ordering tea and cakes be brought. The Witch Margaret nodded, "Oh no. Nothing like that, The Court Wizard simply has to serve a slightly different role to His Majesty than purely a sorcerer. The Wizard Sullivan is on the privy council, he must brush elbows with the other lords and ladies more than spend his time in his robes." But she quickly added, "though a fine sorcerer he still remains. The other sorcerers, yes. They are all academics like me. Wizard Sullivan is an expert duellist, he has a legendary sixty-six victories in magick duels. Never has he lost a duel, his voice is powerful and truly unique. I am a dedicated Truth-Seer of course. But the others are dedicated to their own styles. Wizard Sullivan is the master of the duellist's style, a more crude way to put it... he is a sorcerer-killer. Should any mage stand before him they are sure to be slain. The Wizard Jenkins is master of his so called "Boulder in the River" style, it is as you have said a dedicated anti magick style. The Wizard Jenkins is master of seeing the streams of magick other sorcerers create and he becomes the boulder in their river. The Witch Holmes has her "Flowering Fruit Tree" style, think of it as a medicinal magick, The Witch Holmes was a medical doctor before becoming a sorcerer. Wizard Kelvin is the master of the "Silk String" style." The Witch seemed to end her description of the other mages with this comment, abruptly seeming to cut herself off before describing this silk string style.
Martin peered down at the human and brought his head to the side. Allowing one of his eyes to gaze down at Zenos in full before returning to his more upright position. "My convictions are the result of the need for this empire to shake off its complacency. For two generations of Hurvecht this empire has been under the leadership of an empress. Empress Jessamine and Empress Shanalotte. Before them was the short reign of Henry IV, and before him was Empress Lyndsey. This empire has not seen an Emperor since the time of Jasper. I am Martin the First, and like Euhorn and Jasper I must rise to the call that makes the name Martin great. The Martinian Era marks when the Empire restored its prestige as a great power. For too long we have sat sidelined by empires like the Talmyrox and the Anubites and the Tordelians and the Dragons of Heord. But we are the tigers!" Martin's claw pointed to a portrait of Jasper on the wall at the end of his life, when he was older. He still carried a marshal staff but unlike portraits of when he was younger, he was covered in tattoos across his body. These tattoos became known as tiger stripes, and became a popular style of Hurvecht tattoos that many got even to this day. "It is the Empire's destiny to bridge East and West. As I speak ships are crossing the maelstrom at the center of the universe. The dreams and ambitions of an entire generation of Bezannians." Martin looked back to Zenos. "My people give me strength."
Nia felt a bit of a rush as Tenkan started patting her and almost yelped, pretending to be a cool girl like her mom was not that easy as she thought. Nevertheless, slightly confused and red-faced she straightened up and attempted to regain her serious and determined expression, the mighty expression of a flying one! She followed Tenkan noting all his moves mentally as she had with Iulia. Seeing Tenkan jump she braced herself, opened her arms and did a little hop unto the wind tube. Feeling the tremendous wind and sense of fall she started flapping her hands intensely, though she was not scared anymore ...this was ...magical! "WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, THIS ONE IS LIKE AN AVIAAAAAN!!" she finally managed to stabilized and looked at the ones outside "This is very very very fun! Awooo! Cendri-darling should join in the fun exercise" she then turned back at Tenkan for advise "Is this one flapping correctly, or must tail also function like bird's?"
-
Myrsa raised her eyebrow intensely and proclaimed proudly before Tarral "Of course we have such distinctions in Sa'Herod! We Katak'sar are Sabak'sai, Cave! Mountains may have the strength, but we have the passion and persistence!" her eyebrows proceeded to go up and down suggestively for a bit there "And yes, it was weird being tiny ...but using my avatar helped me feel more normal than in my real body. I hope Heordals have a fix for this.." She pointed at her sad droopy wings "If not, I'll manage, at least I'm in REALLY good company ...and ah, wait a moment ...Ymira you're not supposed to munch on the plate you stupid egg!" Ymira snorted, plate in mouth "Shu' u', am no' a 'eg" causing Myrsa to snort back "You're such a pain in the tail, you're ruining my romantic dinner" Ymira's eyes shined at the opportunity to engage into young sister behavior, and immediately a smirk formed in her mischievous little face "Tarral and Myrsa flying in the sky..." - "I SWEAR TO THE SAINTS.." - "..being very G-A-Y" - "rrrRARGH!" Ymira immediately flew upwards hanging from a massive chandelier "...they talk all days, touch tails all nights.." - "GET DOWN IMMEDIATELY SO I CAN TURN YOU INTO VALX STEW" - "..being M-A-T-E-S!" happy with her mischief she turned to Mondron giving a claw up "It was a very tasty fluffy mr Cooking Dragon, but it can't defeat the mighty Ymira!". As Ymira flew away Myrsa's head seemed to turn pink from anger "YOU LITTLE EGG, YOU LIKE PONIES, THAT'S FAR WORSE" then instantly the enraged dragoness started feeling extremely ashamed as attention was drawn to the incident, trying to fix the situation "...for what it matters, I do not like ponies like my sister ...and I will now eat my Renthoa, if you do not mind ..ehm" she started taking meek little bites of the mighty portion, evidently hiding behind it, not daring to look at Tarral.
Sarxaxa stood up looking satisfied with the ordeal "And that is done, always good to reach a honest agreement ..and with a mighty dragon nonetheless! But yes, I have quite many more things to talk about with you my Saresh. I did not come here unprepared you see." She closed up, looking left and right "..I have a plan to take back what belongs to me, plus interest from those vile softskins that have tortured us for centuries, and you of course my Saresh might become the Saresh of Saherod physically and not only in, let's be honest, a piece of rune." She closed up even more, a quite annoying habit of hers, but perhaps Tyfrondor could forgive this young and enthusiastic dragoness from being attracted to him instictively "As I understand it, the Talmyrox owes my bank trillions in Estandars thanks to its idiotic war with Excave forces ...now that binds them to my will, wether they like it or not, and my will is your will of course, Saresh! Now ..to the plan" She got so close that Tyfrondor could sense her breath, she had eaten bacon for breakfast for sure.. "Here's the plan; we send a bunch of Watrike on Shyr for a supposedly cultural exchange of Great War veterans ...now the softskins, I am sure will not speculate anything, Watrike are thought by all as mindless warriors, not spies! Now, claiming they need to rest, they will leave early and go to my office in Datha, it is closed-off and well-guarded but I have a secret entrance ..there I have spare deeds that verify my ownership of shares in the Bank of the Sun and many other companies. If I get those papers then we can claim my hoard back ..and for Heord of course! But here comes the fun part ...we will then contact some thralls of mine in Shyr and persuade them with gold to force a coup at the right time that will get rid of the current Talmyr and install an aristocratic republic with Heord at its helm! Isn't it a Maurish plan my Saresh?" She was smiling to her horns, looking intensely at Tyfrondor as her tail slapped the floor rythmically.
"Perhaps it is held by another, but I feel no attachment to that surname. Perhaps one day I will. But until the time comes for my retirement, I have no desire to wrest it from whomever holds it right now." He decided to follow along and find himself a seat as well, taking one sized for a Hurvecht, as they were fortunately sized appropriately for a Taurus as well. He then closed his eyes as she spoke her question, straining to remember, "My birthplace was a manor, in a valley named Garthan's Reach. It is a decently large estate from what I know, it produces a few crops, I cannot remember specifics. I only lived there a few years, so I can only faintly remember the hills and that I hurt my knee rolling down one of them. But otherwise I know little of it, my father offered me up to the Rangian Vanguard when I was five, and I was accepted. From then, I grew up on Instabull, and that is where most of my early memories lie."
The Zantines seemed to realize this as well, and generally began to relax themselves and congregate, or otherwise decide to socialize around the room. Brackson meanwhile gave a nod, "Right, courtly duties do require a bit of a different approach. Need to look the part of a noble to interact with them as the court demands." He then listened to these other styles, and noticed the distinct cut off at the last one, "All fitting roles for important mages, and good for an Emperor to keep on hand. Though if the Wizard Sullivan wins his duels via voice magicks and shouting, it would be interesting to see him face a Cuthian Pundramancer. The Flowering Fruit Tree style reminds me of Ialao Druids, and that Boulder in the River style seems close to what Anubites can do with their mystic stuff. Though from what I know the Anubite style is more about trying to cut it off at the soul, block it from influencing the universe around them, and thus block magic." Pausing, he then leaned in, "As for this Silk String style, I'm going to guess with how each of the others fills a role in the courtly duties, and that's the only one you didn't want to mention outright... I'm going to guess the Silk String style is when somebody needs to die in a method far less honorable than a duel. Forgive me if I'm assuming a bit too much, but seems like an even a Bezzanian Emperor can't handle every court issue via a fair duel."
Zenos looked back at the portrait of Jasper, an individual he had of course heard about thanks to the popularity of the Tiger Emperor that even Zantines were aware of. The tiger stripe style was quite distinctive, after all, and Zantines respected Warrior Emperors. Though it was only now Zenos was considering those distinctive stripes as something he adopted when he became older. He then looked back to Martin, "So you want to be the Emperor your people have been waiting for, is it? That's a worthy goal, to live up to what Jasper started. But it is interesting to hear you have ships crossing the center of the galaxy, that is a feat I was not expecting. Zantine ships fly far from home as well, but your brave explorers are likely at least doing it under your orders." Zenos sighed and stepped back, "For myself, Zantium has had many Emperors, but few in recent times have been worthy of the title. Our complacency has let us rot, and we who were once the greatest of the Nebula... Sidelined by old rivals like the Anubites, our own former territories like Javalus, and even damn Corporations like Excave and Omnipo. It's pathetic. And one of my family agreed."
"Even now, my younger brother Basil lives up to the family name far better than I do. He took half the fleet and simply went north. Far north, to the lands of the feline Mhassari, with the intent conquer and revitalize the Zantine Empire." Zenos turned to look at the portrait of Jasper, "Not really a wonder so many joined Basil, he is quite like your Jasper. My younger brother is rude, impatient, and cares little for the more complex matters of statecraft. I'll admit I didn't think he'd amount to much when we were younger. And yet, when the Civil War came, he was the one to lead a fleet to many victories. When the Civil War ended, he refused to be sidelined, and he was the one to rally the fleets with tales of old, reinvigorate the strength of the Zantines who once ruled all the Nebula and created the foundation of what Iammelon is. And then he was off, and now wages a campaign far from home, all for the sake of restoring the prestige we have lost. I have to say, it's hard not to feel a bit jealous." Zenos looked back over at Martin, "You know, he also talked about the dreams and ambitions of our people before he pulled that stunt. Two feline associated people saying that. So I believe what you say, Martin. Makes me curious to hear what the first action of the awakened Tigers will be as well."
Tenkan and Iulia watched Nia come in, and smiled as they saw her having fun. Tenkan however angled himself to float next to her and speak up, having to raise his voice to be heard above the sounds of the air, "Flapping not needed! Let air carry, do not fight! Tail important, use to steer! Example!" He demonstrated with his arms out flat, but using his tail to direct himself around the tube, in a sort of very deliberate gliding. The use of the tube for training became more apparent now, as this was a way that Watrike droptroopers trained with gliding suits. Meanwhile, last to enter, Cendri had gotten through the entrance into the tube, and leaped in. He joined the rest, and now all four of the Watrike were flying. It was quite the fun experience, and even serious Iulia couldn't quite help but stick her tongue out to enjoy it for a little bit. Cendri glided himself over towards Nia and looked to her, "Fun, yes? Fun to do tricks too. Team formation, join in!" With that, Cendri directed the others into position, and grabbing their hands he quickly made a sort of triangle formation with himself, Iulia, and Tenkan, before gracefully breaking it off. Then Cendri offered out his hands for Nia to join in on one such trick.
-
Tarral gave an amused smirk, "First I've heard of Cave Dragons having passion for something other than smithing. Didn't think those went together." She got a bit more serious after that, "As for your wings, we do have doctors who can look at that, some specialists in wing-care. Needed more often than you'd think..." And that was when Tarral paused, noticing Ymira chewing the plate. And then the sisterly struggle began, with Tarral only able to sit back and watch in some embarrassment at Ymira's rather targeted taunting. It got the attention of everyone else as well, including the Chef and the two Combat Drakes having their own meal off on the side. The Chef was just amused by the entire display, and gave an expecting look over at the two warriors. They noticed, sighed, and then got up to go grab Ymira before she got into too much trouble. Otherwise the Grand Drake might punish them for being in a place to help and not doing anything. The Chef meanwhile hummed, took the compliment where it stood, and got back to his kitchen. As that calmed down and the Combat Drakes went to locate the younger Valx sister, Tarral just chuckled at Myrsa's new meek demeanor, and leaned in to comment, "Seems sisters are the same, even across planets. I remember doing such things with my own elder sister, Azmelti. She got revenge plenty as well. Reminds me of home. Perhaps we should visit my home after we see to treating your wings. Given your ambitions, you'd have to meet my family eventually after all."
Tyfrondor retracted his head a bit as Sarxaxa got a bit too close for his personal comfort, as he still remembered how she had acted when first seeing his son. He decided not to comment on it however, and think on her plan. It had potential, but he could iterate on the plan, "Hm, we can worry about any such plans for Shyr and takeovers for later, better to focus on getting the deeds back as that was what I promised first and foremost. Now as for you idea, I see no reason to send just a few Watrike. The Magma Legion are veterans of that 'idiotic' war that your sister waged upon my lands," he said with as a small reminder of who those Excave forces had worked for. "That Legion has some members I am sure would be interested in a proper cultural exchange, and by sending along a number of non-Watrike, especially Humans and Human-Ghashyr hybrids, any worries of spies will be directed towards those more expected to be spies. Leaving a few implanted Watrike agents to go and handle the break in. I have a few in mind who can accomplish the goal. After that, we can then see about your Maurish plan, Sar'ksasa. Razethorne, I'll entrust you to set this up." Off to the side, Razethorne nodded his head, "Very well, father. I'll prepare both the proposal for the cultural exchange and prepare some of the best Watrike we have. I am sure Snara will enjoy a chance to throw off her 'bad one' label after defying her mandatory vacation." With that, Razethorne walked off, with Tyfrondor sighing at the mention of the label one of their agents had garnered.
Taurgha
Sakiris
Cast by Fire:
Part 43: Ostan Hallah, Fortress of the County Ostanakar
Otun now knew what befit a Queen of the unfamiliar species he saw before him; a woman of tall stature, impeccable beauty, and eloquence in speech. He fell to one knee, a fist pressed to his dented breastplate in salute to the sovereign standing before him. He however was shocked to hear himself referred to as Eftalya's Uncle, to be likened to such a miserable man brought forward some amusement from Otun, but now was not a time to be amused. He rose to his feet and spoke in basic, "Your grace, you mistake me For Natun'Kataan, I am Otun'Hataar, Baron of Ostan'haktan, vassal to Count Harai'Ibn Harai..." He turned his head to his left and saw the miserable old sod approaching with a limp, battered and beaten in battle. His turban covered his face, and when he pulled down his face covering, it revealed a bloody bruise on right cheek. With him, came an entourage of likely Sakirai, all dusty, bloody, and torn from battle, "... here he is. This is Natun."
"What is the meaning of this?" The old lord shouted in Sakiri, he looked to Eftalya and Harai, beside one another but failing to look Natun in the eye. "Eftalya who are these.... things you have brought?" This brought forth the young girl's ire, "You will adress my liege lady as Queen Suis Boanne!"
"...liege? Queen? What nonsense have you gotten into? Have you forsaken your familial oath to me? Your own uncle? Look upon those sands!" He shouted, raising a Dynastar-adorned gauntlet and pointing a finger at the crimson sands, littered with bodies. "This is the price I have paid to grant your husband back his lands, and now you have forsaken me? You forsake Sakir!" The old Lord lurched forward in pain, those present could observe in plain sight, where a mace had struck his abdomen, deforming his lamellar cuirasse. From his barren chapped lips, he coughed violently, spurting drops of blood upon the sands below him. Eftalya let go of Harai and rushed to help him, but Natun shoved her away with one arm and compose himself, and his anger.
"You are nothing! I will not have my men die any longer for this... bitch and her witch of an overlord!" He gave Lord Knight a deathly stare and feared nothing, for he was close to death anyway.
"We are Sons of Sakir, we do not bow for false Gods, we do not abandon our oaths." His Sakirai near him, those which Otun gathered, now numbered over a thousand near the landing ships, and they closed their formation into a densely packed Tericho of Spears, Axes, Dynasts, Slug Throwers, and Dynastar Armor.
Queen Suise saw tears welling up in the sweet eyes of Eftalya, who ran back to the safety of her husband, who reached for his Dynast, and with what knowledge he could muster of Basic, she heard him mutter, "They mean to do battle..." He didn't dare look upon Lord Knight, "Spare mine brothers, please..."
Otun realized the gravity of the situation and called for what men still loyal to him remained... no more than fifty of the one hundred who survived the initial siege of the Fortress Ostan'Hallah, which was now in ruins. He rallied them in front of Eftalya and Harai, loyal only to his liege lord and lady. Unsheathing Hataaratai, his family sword for the first time in over a month, he gripped it firmly in resolving to fight the very men that fought alongside him.
Otun looked to Suise, still exposed to an open arch of fire from the Tericho formation, "Lady- My Queen, Get behind my men, their armor will shield you." He thought it so unusual to look upon a woman he had only known for but a few minutes as his own Queen, but so it was if Eftalya and Harai had truly renounced their oaths to Natun.
And so Sakir in its perpetual sunset over the skies of Guk'tar-Khur shown over the impossible standoff between three armies and only a thousand brave sons of Sakir, with punishing glory. Those who could not reach the standoff in time, looked on at their Lord and their brothers in arms as they stood in formation, ready to fight. With sweat, dreading to see what would come of it.
Taurgha
L empire
Perspective of The Lord Knight
The Lord Knights heartbeat, one…two…three times. His ears perked as the flow of Information coming to him in Nanoseconds entered his skull, and was processed by his ancient mind. He saw upon the battlefield … these humans, raise there rifles in rage against the Children, planning to lay them low. These other humans, had jumped to their defense, blocking the Queen of the Cypherians, he could see the Queen look shocked, almost dismayed and fearful. He could see Cypherian soldiers try to move into position, before death was dished out upon their sovereign. Kryss neural atomizers had begun to spin, and Dynas warriors had begun to reinforce the positions. All the while He could feel the hateful sun glaring down upon them…and especially him, it glared like no other, dug deep into his soul, why was it so hateful, why did it seem to stand against him. He knew nought but before he realized a single millisecond had passed.
He needed to act quickly, to show these humans the might of Gabriel and his children, to put down their notions of superiority…for only the Children can inherit the mantle that was left behind. Not them, not this…heathenic species of squabbling semi apes. So in another Nanosecond, the Lord Knight, delved deep into his soul, he poured and searched through ancient energies that were blessed upon him by his creator. He pulled the energies together, silver light, which blinded anyone who directly looked him, causing many to look away coursed around him. Another millisecond passed. He looked down upon the armies assembled…He could hear another human, the man known as Harai begging for mercy upon his supposed brothers. The Queen had a fondness for him and his wife. He would not slay this army with blade and smite. He would strangle the life out of them, and give them a chance to surrender, another millisecond.
As the humans looked to be ready to pull there triggers, they froze. They…couldn’t…they couldn’t move, there eyes seemed to be locked in place, and seemingly the only things that could move was the beating of the heart, and breathing of the lungs. Every human that opposed Otun, Harai, Eftayla and Suis, could only watch as the Lord Knight hovered down, and stood right in front of Natun. Another millisecond. The Lord Knight reached out and would allow Natun to speak, while the rest of his body remained frozen, as the Lord Knight bellowed out, with a tone of a thousand voices, which bounced and echoed off the mountains and the dunes and the sands and seemingly reverberated through time itself. “You have tried to draw the blood of the Children of Gabriel…this is a crime I usually not let stand.” he said, as from his hand, a silver blade, almost ten feet long in length, and four feed wide would appear, almost out of myst, golden flames surrounding it, as he put it on Natuns neck. “But do to the Queens fondness of Mortals known as Eftayla and Harai…I will allow you and your army to surrender.” he said, he reached his hand out, and closed his palm.
The opposing army, of a thousand men, could feel their hearts, begin to beat slower…and slower, almost coming to a stop, and in some cases coming to a stop. Natun was not exempt from this, as the Lord Knight stared down at the man. Looking to hear his response. The Lords Knights wings shot out, a silver barricade surrounded him and the thousand man army, it was a wall of pure light, that people could only make out silhouettes of the men, and the full form of the Lord Knight. “Do you surrender…” asked the Lord Knight danger leaking off of every syllable.
Suis Perspective.
Suis had just gone through a roller coaster of emotions that had coursed through her body, in a few seconds. First she had a pleasant meeting with this quite handsome man, known as Otun. “My apologies, I had assumed people as lovely as Harai and Eftayla would of served someone as…charming as you.” she said beckoning for the soldier to stand. She was then…greeted by a not so handsome looking man. Actually quite ugly, bleeding man…who more looked like a Mutt, but thats besides the point. This man hunched himself over towards her.
He then proceeded to insult her, push away Eftayla which did nothing but piss her off, because EFTAYLA WAS PREGNANT. She then immediately backed away, in fear, as the humans pulled there weapons. She almost instinctively jumped into Otuns arms for protection, like a maid of legend on this planet. She then saw almost as quickly the fight begin, it end, as the Lord Knight descended from above, and it but a second, formed around them a protective wall, and had caused the opposing army to freeze.
She was dumb founded, hot, scared, confused, worried and it showed on her face. She was nervous and anxious, and the sun was just so damn hot. She would almost fall over in Otuns arms, before vomiting profusely onto the desert ground. Which from the background seemed to get a laugh out of the Kryss Arch Scientific Bishop, which had also tailed the Kryss army, like the Queen did with hers. She would vomit again, a second time, the stress getting to her as she almost coughed up a lung, sand coughing from her throat, and coming out of her mouth, before she looked at Otun and realized the situation she was in. “My dear, I am sorry, I didn't mean to put you in this situation.” she said, flustered with embarrasment.
Taurgha
Taurgha
Nia was almost in a haze after letting herself go and stopping to flap her arms. This felt like a magical dream and for the first time in ages she felt truly free. The peculiar new trike followed suit reaching for Cendri's hand to complete the formation "Yes, very, very, very fun... ...thank!" letting a very discreet tear that flew upwards making her chuckle as she followed instructions to complete the tricks with her new friends in what appeared to be finally her new wonderful home.
-
Realizing the Grand Drake felt strongly about that old war Sarxaxa muttered a bit miffed "The idiotic war was Myrsa's idea, not mine..." pouting in a rather immature manner as Tyfrondor kept on talking. As the mighty goldenscale monarch finished and Razethorne was about to take his leave, the young white dragoness clapped her paws to bring attention back to her "One more thing my Saresh! You realize that I must be introduced to the good clans of Heord somehow and I cannot do it alone, it's improper! ..so I wonder if you my Saresh would accompany me to the ceremonial dragon ball, or perhaps your son? I would be glad with either!" She said sporting a maurish grin and bowing with her front leg while extending her wings before Tyfrondor.
Ymira did not fight back at all, enjoying being carried by the warriors like a kitten and bearing a dumb smile on her face "Weeee ..oh! Take me to my mom, not my crazy sister please." As she was dragged away, Myrsa sighed in relief and tried regaining her composure to salvage the discussion with Tarral "Yeah, sisters are annoyingly adorable creatures ...but I'd prefer if I first got a wing-over before meeting your parents. My scales need polishing and I will have to at least dye them my natural color ...wouldn't want your family to think I'm some ghost, hehe ..heh" she thought a bit to herself then bumped the table with her paw "No, I'll meet them right away! I used to be a mighty warlord. If I could do it in the avatar body, I sure can do it in my true body! I am Miraak'sana Katak'Sar, fireborn!" She snorted some smoke from her nostrils, making clear her determination "Let's go Tarral!"
Part 44: Ostan-Hallah, County of Ostanakar As the Lord Knight's stranglehold over the lives of Natun and his Sakirai strengthened, the attacks made against him from above, from the cursed red star intensified as Sakir's burning hatred shown in the sky with streaks of vibrant colors tracing across the sky. The radiation storm increased in intensity, and those who would not be equipped with the proper clothing or protective equipment began to feel a slight burning sensation upon their skin.
Harai unwrapped his turban and gave it to Eftalya to cover her exposed pale skin, a trademark of the people of Nocte-Khur who lived in perpetual night. Otun undid his own and extended it to Queen Suise, "This is made of local plant fibers, it will protect you from Sakir's rays. Cover yourself lest you be burnt." He looked to the unusually well dressed Cypherian army behind him in all their finery, "Your soldiers will die out here within two hours if they do not find shelter, or the proper clothing..." He looked then to Natun and the scene unfolding before him. The more than twenty thousand Sakirai still positioned around the fortress still watched on in awe, some kneeling in prayer, others watching grimly as The Lord Knight extinguished their brothers before them.
Natun took no time to think about his response, for his death meant nothing to him but eternal servitude in the Afterlife to Sakir, an afterlife he looked forward to. He mustered what strength he could to speak, "I do not bow before false Gods... nor do I tolerate the betrayal of loyalty." And with one last breath he mustered enough strength to spit in the direction of Lord Knight. He and those who would remain loyal to him to the end slowly went limp in the embrace of Lord Knight...
Sakir: The deity looked on with absolute contempt at the foreign divine presence, who had the gall to take the lives of the sworn the Sons of Sakir. For this, Sakir exacted its revenge, for amidst constant attacks repelled by the Lord Knight, none would be so powerful as that of the Heavenly Host of Azer-Alor. Billions upon billions of souls, Slaves, Sakirai, Lords, Ladies, and Prawns lead by the Sakais and Prawnic Queens of the past; by the decree of Sakir, launched a spiritual attack on Lord Knight all at once, an attack which would see his power here wain significantly.
Taurgha
L empire
The Lord Knight
The Lord Knight hovered above them all, his heartbeat and palpitations rang out, bouncing across time and space. The Divine Host of the Lord Knight, wrang triumphant his wings flapped. He felt the souls leave the men's bodies, he did not feel anger towards them outside of there assault against the children, so as he looked pittily down upon them, as there corpses fell. He felt alien in this world, his form angelic, but off putting, to perfect, his immaculate form seemed to Divine. As his form hovered, he did not prepare for a sudden attack from the Divinations from above. They struck against him like a hammer striking against an anvil. He did not collapse but he became cataonic, hovering there, his eyes turning a dark black. His form was standing still and his chest had fallen silent. But his mind, in the bounds of higher realms, where his soul stretched across them, and he was in the fight for his life. His swords weaved like lighting through strikes of pure light and warring souls coming to him. He moved like a mad man, across from this vast plain of darkness, stood the heavenly gates of Sakir, which struck against him, as they waged a war of spiritual and psychic proportions. He was getting exhausted, as the armies of Sakir plunged towards him, and as a spear of light was about to pierce him, and Sakir victory was to be secured. Sakir felt something…something ancient, primordial and utterly unfathomable and terrifying reached out. Only a single sentence spoke out, and the power of things even more Primordial and Ancient then the Lord Knight, that its full power rebuked the host of Sakir. “I still have plans for him, your Justice shall be denied.” and with put a single sentence, the host of Sakir were blasted back, the gates closed, and the Lord Knights defense sealed. The Lord Knight stood upon the spiritual realm astonished, as his form returned back to the material realm his eyes returning to there normal white, as he almost stumbled to the ground, but recollected himself, landing elegantly to the ground but looking stunned. He coughed up into his hand a bit of glittering gold blood, and then turned back to stare at the children and the humans, before looking back to the sky and muttering with a single word. “Father…”
With Suis
As the sun beat down around them. It’s sweltering heat only increased and she could barely stay conscious as she coughed up the rough sand, as it got into her gills, causing her to almost start to struggle to breath. She quickly grabbed ahold of the cloth being handed to her and wrapped it around herself. To protect herself from the sun. She looked back to her assembled army, and could see them sweltering, sweat drenching there standard gear. Victory had been won on this day, but it did seem at least for the Cypherians, as she had noticed her cousins were not nearly suffering as badly. “Soldiers of the Empire, return to your vessels…we are not yet prepared for movements yet. Wait for my signal then we will return.” she said, as she coughed up again, more sand from her mouth. It was really not effecting her well, especially sense she wore a dress which exposed her gills. And it wasn’t like beach sand, it was rough, and caused her throat to become sore. As the sun beat down the heat would only fill her more and she felt she was almost ready to pass out. She looked at Otun. “Do you have any more of that..for my soldiers.” she said her voice started to get coarse and rough, as she finally told Otun. “Why do you have two faces?” before unceremoniously passing out in his arms.
With the Kryss
Victory WAS THERES, SCIENTIFIC ACHIEVEMENTS SHALL BE REAPED FROM THIS WORLD. THESE HUMANS HAD AN ODD SIMILARITY TO THE WHITE DEVILS THEY OFTEN HAD TO DEAL WITH. Thus the Arch Patriarch strode forward, a hymnal drone whirring behind him blaring out freakishly loud music, which could almost deafen someone, as he spread Holy Oils across the ground and sanctified them with, the Sacrament of Chemicals, as he spread Holy Chemicals upon the ground as he walked forward in his procession, before reaching the outer wall of the facility right by the Lord Knight. Standing at almost eight feet in height, the towering Rat Scientist Arch Bishop, would speak in a hoarse, raspy and horrific voice. Shouting a mad Sermon about how Gabriel shall deliver this world from Ignorance Demons and that blessed Angels of Rationalism shall descend upon the unquenched THRALLS, AND TEACH THEM IN THE ACADEMIC WAYS, AND THAT THEY SHALL BE INDUCTED INTO THE GREAT SCIENTIFIC HOLY STRUGGLE, TO RECLAIM THE KRYSS HOMEWORLD FROM THE HORRORS THAT ARE SPAWNED ON IT. AND THAT ON THIS DAY, HOLY GROUND HAS BEEN DELIVERED TO THE UNKNOWABLE MASSES OF SEETHING HEATHENERY AND THAT SCIENCE SHALL DELIVER US ALL TO A GRANDER FUTURE, AND THAT BLESSED SCIENCE SHALL FORGE A BRIGHT FUTURE WHERE DEMONIC IRRATIONALITY IS BANISHED!
The Sermon was very long and very ranty, the Kryss seemed to be praising it, but the Cypherians, The Dynas, the Lord Knight and especially the humans were just very uncomfortable, as they watched the Kryss ArchBishop deliver his rabid sermon.
Taurgha and Sakiris
Sakiris
Cast by Fire Part 45:
Ostan'Hallah, the County Ostanakar:
As Queen Suise passed out in his arms, Otun could not help but feel pitty for the woman in his arms, having come to a world so strange to her, unprepared to meet the harsh realities of even the most hospitable place found upon Sakiris; if this army he looked upon was to truly take the county and the lands around it, or perhaps even more, he wondered how the Cypherians at least would be able to withstand the sheer dry heat of Sakir-Khur, and the harsh cold of Nocte-Khur. Nomatter, he thought to himself, and he took the Queen to the nearest blue skinned soldiers he could find, and told them to take care of their Queen. Noticing that they were all women, he was caught off guard and wondered where all the men of this race may be.
Turning upon the dune on which he was standing, he watched as the foreign Divine drained the life of Natun'Kataan, the uncle of Eftalya. He watched his niece in tears and she clung to his lord Harai, who turned her away and guided her to the ruined fortress they called their home. Slowly, a trickle of Sakirai and Slave Soldiers came to see the sight, a whole Tericho of Sakirai, all lifeless upon the ground, their valuable Dynastar armors and weapons just waiting to be looted by the most enterprising looter, however they did not dare tempt fate before the Divine which stood before them.
From among their ranks came a pale skinned Lord Otun knew well, he was called Abdul Noor al-Ayub, the Emir of Shubrawah. Among the ranks he stood in, he was the most senior; and looking upon the mass of Dynastar-Adorned bodies he began to speak in Sakiri, "Our liege lord is dead, and with him a great many good warriors! I would weep here upon this ground, but a Divine not of our faith stands before us Defiling these sands... and a traitor too..." He looked to Otun, "You brought us here, and you brought us only death. Now your liege lord has his lands back, you have yours, and we return with nothing but the bodies of our fallen comrades, or so we wish." Abdul drew his Dynast and offered it to the Divine, "Accept this as a guarantee that these men present, and all else which came to liberate the County of Ostanakar will return to their homes in the nightlands in peace. The Pale Skinned Sakirai of Nocte Khur awaited the answer of Lord Knight, who seemed to bleed liquid gold, uttering "father."
Otun Turned to the Divine, and understanding that it could understand his own language, gestured to Natun's Dynast and spoke in Sakiri, "It is yours, for you have defeated him in battle. All their Dynastar belongs to you, it is a fortune for your..." he looked to the Krys and Dynas, "...people."
Sakir'Hallah, the City of Sun: Capital City of the Sakiri Shogunate
She cantered upon her Loh-A'Lud, a massive beast of 40 meters in length, 10 meters tall. It was white in color, with stripes of black flowing down its spines, covering the entirety of its back, were it not for her saddle, she would be impaled upon them. Quickly, she stopped her beast before the gates of the Palace of Sakais, a magnificent work of sandstone, Dynastar, Gold, Copper, and Mosaics adorned by tall, slim shimmering towers and a wide bastion at the base, adorned in the mosaics of old telling stories of the legendary Sakai Ghaalib al-Sahli. No other Sakai would replace these Mosaics with stories of their own, for they would invoke the wrath of the old hero, who ascended to the Status of Divine according to the Arch-Imam of Sakiris. The old Sakai's Loh-A'Lud watched over the Palace Courtyard, as its bones were made to stand as if he were still living, a massive beast 100 meters long, and maybe 30 meters in height.
Some called her the Sultanna of Abqaliyah, for she was the head of a Dynasty that ruled the powerful Sultanate of Abqaliyah for thousands of years, but she prefered the title Ansarina. As an Ansar to the Sakai, she earned more glory than she would have as solely the ruler of her lands.
Sweeping her legs to the side of her Loh-A'Lud, it lowered itself to the ground to allow her to dismount, the tails of her Turban flowed down with her, and her Dynastar mail clinked as she landed upon her sturdy feet. Resting her left hand upon her Dynast on her hip, she gracefully walked through the doors of the Palace, opened for her by Slave servants who dared not look her way.
Through the Crimson halls, adorned in all the Finery only Sakais for generations could have mustered, she walked with such familiarity she paid no mind to the sheer wealth that surrounded her. Not to the Dynastar weapons, armors, or fine vases, not to the beautiful maids adorned in gold, not to the fine crafts of thousands of talented freemen. She only paid mind to one man sitting at the end of the great hall of the palace, sitting upon an old high throne. In comparison to everything else within the Palace it would seem out of place, made up only of sandstone, finely polished by the butts of thousands of Sakais over the years. Commissioned by the first Sakai, whose name was forgotten to history, it served as the seat of power of all Sakiris for thousands of years. Today, in it sat Ko'Tari of Nih'Ten, the Sakai of Sakiris, the Lord of all and he too looked only at the woman who approached him. It was a mutual gaze, a gaze only lovers could share; but it was not to last as the Ansarina kneeled before him, bowing her head, bringing her right fist to her chest, and beseeched him to hear what she had heard. Raising his hand he gave her permission to speak.
Farhaana al-Morad, who was Sultanna of Abqaliyah, and Ansarina to the Sakai, spoke with a grin; for it was the first time in generations Sakiris ever faced a threat from the outer worlds, and she knew well much glory could be won extinguishing it. "Some days ago, a foreign landing force landed upon the Fortress Ostan'Hallah in the County Ostanakar, a force of three races, races unknown to us. They mean to make war with us."
The Sakai looked upon his lover with enthusiasm and rose from his throne to stand above her, "Then we will give them what they seek."
Taurgha
L empire
Otun, watched as a woman grabbed ahold of the Queen, carrying her slowly towards the ship, where he would see two Cypherian men step out. Dressed in white shirt and paints, with a large blue cross drawn across each with a red circle around it. With written in Galactic Basic “Nurse.” as the two men took ahold of there Queen and brought her back into the ship. Strange species these Cypherians, strange species.
Day Four.
Four days had passed, Queen Suis had at that point recovered to her full strength, and now stood in front of a gathered crowd in a nearby town square. The town's name she did not know, but it seemed to be one of the larger ones in the area, the capital of the local county, she would of course have to learn the name in time. But she had gathered here as many of the most powerful land holders, peasants, slave holders and men in general. The Podium in front of her flew both the flag of the Cypherian Empire, along with the personal banners of Harai and Eftayla. She spoke up, many of the men had already had met the soldiers earlier, who had confiscated there property, and brought it into the city. But this was to make it a formality, and to let everyone know that this barbaric act (and very outdated economic system in her opinion) of slavery was to be ended. She had been going on a thirty minute diatribe, quickly refreshing her throat, with a very large bottle of water, which was still probably more water these people have seen in weeks. “Thus, I declare, as Queen of the Cypherian Empire, Lord of Eftayla and Harai, and with the Backing of the Supreme Liege of the Sanctus Edenus the Lord Knight, the act of slavery is hereby abolished, all slaves shall be freed, and if they choose they will be moved into the cities in do time, where they will be working meaningful jobs. The slave holders shall be compensated, by a trade of 10% of each slave monetarily into Gabrient coins. Any opposition to the new law, and any continuation of such barbarity, shall incur the wrath of the Cypherian Military Police, and will incur the wrath of your own police forces when they are established. Gabriel and Sakir bless you all, may they keep you safe, and grant you eternal peace.” she said, ignoring the thunderous boo’s, gasps, roars of anger. As she entered the palace like building behind her. There she began a grand feast, to celebrate it. Inviting sympathetic freed men, prominent Cypherian Aristocrats, Generals and Military, along with various bureacrats, where she began to plan out her propaganda campaign, focusing on loyalty to work and nation, would take the place of slavery in the new system, to get the public to change there opinion. Then she would spot him. Otun who seemingly looked very confused about the variety of foods on the buffet table, and sheer amount there was. It was time to put into action her…plan. The dress she was wearing for the banquet, was a loose, long and wavy dress, that clung to her figure, and made her hips and bosom stand out. The dress was colored by a beautiful color of Crimson with streaks of orange and gold, running through it. She wore in her hair, a set of Red, Orange and Gold gemstones running through it. It was to impress the Sakirian nobility and men around her, but especially to impress Otun…who she had taken great interest since her fall the other day. So she would sneak over, mingling in with the guest, like she was chatting normally, before “accidentally.” bumping into Otun. She would quickly apologize, and pick up any food he had dropped, and would fill her plate with food. He would then invite him over to her table, that she had by herself, and begin asking about his childhood, and telling stories about hers, and eventually once it was done inviting him to another dinner, maybe in another week or so.
Month Two
It has been two months since Edenus forces had landed, and they had already gotten to work. Dynas had begun establishing farming colonies and integrating small towns, into protectorates of sorts, where their competing clans would at times still come to clash over territory. Something which seemed very familiar to the Sakirians. They would implement the same policies as the Cypherians when it came to slavery, but often maintaigned serfdom like relationships, and often came to respect the Sakirian faith, praying in there temples from time to time. The Kryss were definitely not as amicable on similar matters. In a barony, on the very fringes of Edenus controlled space, the Kryss had conquered it. Using armies of genetic beast, and nerve melting bombs, to subjugate the populace. Now, these human children toiled in vast factories 8 hours a day, the other 8 going through a staunch religious re-education. There parents and other humans it was not much better, working long 14 hour work days having sermons blared at them, which almost burst their eardrums with how loud it was. One Child would feel the sting of the plaswhip, as it crashed against his hand leaving hideous burns, as the domineering seven foot tall Rat Priest shouted at him. “HEATHEN CHILD, THE ANSWER IS URANIUM, THE MOST BLESSED AND TERRIBLE OF GABRIELS SCIENCES. INSOLENT BRANT.” Another crash of the plaswhip against the childs hand. “NOW REPEAT AFTER ME!, GLORY TO SCIENCE AND GABRIEL, AND DISHONOR TO THE HEATHENIC DEMONS OF IRRATIONALITY THAT IS SAKIR AND THE FALSE DIVINITIES, REPEAT AFTER ME CHILD AND REPENT.” another sting and slash of plaswhip.
The Cypherians, though approached it with a religious dynamism. They would often incorporate Sakirian religious symbols into there parades and burgeoning cultural festivals to increase unity. A couple important bureaucrats in the newly founded Vice Royalty Administration Services, would recognize Sakir as equal to Gabriel, and make offerings to Sakirian temples. But the Cypherians would also play slight rewriting, explaining away in new Propaganda campaigns, how instead of this meaning slavery, it meant wage labor, or service in the armed forces or police forces, or in governmental services. It did not mean Slavery, slavery, just service in general, and that service to Nation and Work would achieve you service to the Divinites above. And riding down the growing City, riding past a poster which said “Work and Serve your nation for SAKIR.” The City now had thousands of new human arrivals, and foreign Cypherian workers. Riding down the City was the Queen riding in a carriage pulled by two colossal lizard beasts, down a paved road that was made of cement, not simple stone. It was just a start, but around him Otun could see the framework of skyscrapers being built, and large steel boxes that would be used for colossal industry. He was riding with the Queen, who had invited him to a special “surprise for him.” wanting to give him a gift for saving her all those months ago, and giving her a decent conversation with the multiple dinners they had been on. She was wearing a simple blue t shirt and a regal but simple pair of blue jean shorts, which had definitely never been seen before in Sakiris. She would stare at him, and begin talking about mutual interest, how she had picked up horse riding, especially after he taught her, and how she has improved her cooking after the mishap which had occurred two weeks ago. They then finally arrived parking in a distant parking lot. She got out, and almost pulled him inside for excitement. Inside was a large simulated rock climbing park, with various difficulties and paths to take. She explained this was set up as part of a community park they were building to give Sakirians some relaxation time between work, but the entire thing wasn’t finished yet…so they had to themselves. She would then take his hand and bring him to one of the paths.
Month Five
It had been five months and the county had begun to be transformed, large tanks of water had been imported in, with now a large shipping route being established transporting millions of tons of water, between Cypherius and Sakir. Now Colossal water tanks topped titanic skyscrapers which held tens of thousand of people, as newly arrived humans were taught work and life skills by a new bustling Cypherian style education system, which serviced both Sakirian Children and Adults. It was of course staffed entirely by Cypherians. But, things like literacy, banking, working in a factory and other similar things were being taught to the Sakirians at a rapid rate, it was almost exhausting to them. The Queen had implemented a series of reforms, with the victory of the Workers Party at home in Parliamentary elections, she bent to some of there reforms both local and now in the new burgeoning colony. With minimum wage and basic welfare laws being set up on Cypherius, and a much reduced version of these laws introduced on Sakir. Cathedrals and Churches were now being set up, and statues of Gabriel were being built across Sakirian cities, which often needed to be protected, from the more devout and radical of the Sakirian flock. But things were rapidly improving, with even trees being planted. The Dynas and Kryss were also not quiet on their own, with Dynas Clans growing to encompass multiple nearby counties, and Kryss conquering baronies and counts nearby, the Cypherians though proved to be the most reactive, and most able to push their ability to integrate the nearby weak Lords. Presenting many of the weak counts with abundant technology, and the promise that they could protect them from Kryss savagery, the Queen would quickly expand her dominion, being a bit surprised (and relieved) that she didn’t need to resort to some of her usual tricks of the more perverse variety to get her way.
Today, she was cooking Otun, Harai and Eftayla a personal meal, specifically her and Otun were. She sweated in the kitchen, as she tried her very best to perfect a Sakirian meal that would be satisfactory to them, but mix it with Cypherian customs, she wore her normal dress wear, a chef apron around, as various juices and spices had been splattered over her, as she desperately tried to hold onto a mixer that was starting to get a little out of control. Otun would swing in protectively and grabbed ahold of her hands, which were warm to the touch. As he would steady her and she would simply relax into his arms, as they prepared the meal together, a smile that was beamed like sunlight and was heart meltingly beautiful.
Month Seven
Seven Months…Seven Months and now the county…and well surrounding counties the Cypherians controlled were becoming bustling metropolis. The first graduates of the Cypherian schools were coming out, and getting hired to more advanced jobs, as Cypherian businesses moved in. Hospitals and Clinics were being opened up. Resource Depos, and supply hubs. Even infrastructure for things like Television, Holonets and Telegrams would be established in a mere few months. This was the Queens achievement, and she felt proud and mighty…but it was not gonna be her last achievement on the world either.
Otun had been invited to see the Queen personally by her. She had built up this relationship over seven months, and Gabriel be damned, if she was not gonna see it through. Especially, since she actually found herself, actually loving the man. As Otun walked into the newly constructed Palace, that was admittingly smaller, then Eftayla and Harais Palace, that the Queen had also built. He would walk through hallways of red wood and marble, carved with Cypherian history, and covered with paintings of the various Cypherian monarchs. It was beautiful…ornate, and made any palace except the Sakais on this world. He looked for her, she was no where to be seen though, until he stumbled upon her, in a colossal pool, shaped like two humanoid figures embracing each other, with further inspection. On each corner of the pool statues of angels adorned it. But its prize, in the middle of it was the Cypherian Queen, Suis Boanne.
She laid in the water, in the most promiscuous of swim suits. She had her eyes closed, covered with sunglasses, until she heard Otun approach, and took them off and stared at him with a smile, that was both inviting, and devious, as she would swim over to him. “Hello Otun dear, I am glad to meet you at my abode.” she said with a smile, as she slowly began to exit the pool. Revealing her full bathing suit to him, and as the water dripped down her, it glistened off of her blue body, like a crystal. She stood before him, like a beautiful gem, in the pale light of the star. “Would you perhaps be interested in joining me.” she said with a smile and a wink, as she jumped back into the water with a large splash and a giggle. “Come on in the water is fine.” she said with a laugh, as she locked eyes with him, and he could read her desires from there.
Else Where
A single Soldier. A Major of the Cypherian Army, tread across the harsh sands. Riding upon a tamed horse. Covered in head to toe, with brown and orange rags, she had almost a dozen bottles of water dangling off of her horse, and she still barely felt that was enough. Her heavy boots trudged through the sands, it some cases, the dunes would almost collapse and engulf her, but do to her wit and agility she always drag herself through. She was an adventurous lass, and had survived more deadly close calls then that. She was Major Aurora Tyler, of the 104th Infantry Regiment, and she had a diplomatic mission to achieve, by any means necessary. The weakest of the barons and counts had been pacified and defenses had been built, but war was likely to come, and the stronger Lords, the Dukes, The Sultans. They had to be won over, so she Trudged on, until she spotted it. The Gem of the Nine Dunes it was reported to be.
Eh she had seen better on Cypherius, but a job had to be done. As she approached the Sandstone city, its primitivity almost causing her to bulk, as she approached its mighty walls, as she headed towards its main gate, and she entered the city, and trodded her horse amongst the humans, none of them knowing her goal, as she approached the mighty Palace of the Sultana Saminna Azari.
Taurgha
Sakiris
Cast By Fire: Part 46
Ostan’Hallah, The County of Ostanakar
The first few days It was obvious to those who stood in the square of the Fortress Ostan’Hallah, that their new Queen knew no respect for their customs, for she grasped in her hand a large container of crystalline water, more than one would have any sense in carrying openly, and with wasteful voracious gulps drank nearly a quarter of it; but they decided to hear what she had to say, and it was disappointing to say the least. To violate their ancient customs, with such blatant disregard at the end of the barrel of a slug thrower was insulting to say the least, but they needed to concede. Still, when her speech concluded, she praised both Sakir, and the false God Gabriel, and so many shouted in uproar, others shook their fists, and one drew his Dynast, only to be tackled to the ground by one of Harai’s Sakirai.
The Coming of the Blue Skinned Peoples and their companion races made thunderous waves across the local landscape, with tent cities set up, filling with supplies unloaded from ships. Construction was already underway, and hundreds of thousands of outworlder soldiers patrolled the streets, scouted out the outer areas, and ran from the hostile local wildlife. Those of the Blue Skinned were crudely dressed in rags which were spared by the people for their survival. They looked like crude imitations of the Sakiri peoples, and so wrapped up were they for the relatively friendly climate of Guk’tar-Khur, many would wonder how they would fair upon the daylands of Sakir-Khur, or the cold harsh nightlands of Nocte-Khur. The Eternal Setting sun was harsh enough, but the Eternal Day and Eternal nights were much worse for those not accustomed to the harsh extremes of Sakiris.
Suisse Entered what remained of the Inner Fortress Keep, which was completely tattered from the outside, but still intact and quite beautifully designed on the inside, with vibrantly painted walls depicting the scenes of history behind Harai’s dynasty. There, many notables gathered, including some local nobles like Otun, who were all appropriately dressed for the day in their robes and turbans, every man carrying a well-made Dynast to signify their status. Suisse, so well dressed and groomed was certainly a sight for the sore eyes of all the Sakirians present, as they had undergone more than a month’s worth of hard struggle.
Eftalya and Harai were more than happy to be within their own hall once more, and to dine with guests with such a bountiful spread once more. But after such a long struggle, and witnessing too much to bear, Eftalya dragged Harai away from the banquet and to their chambers.
Otun knew within himself that he held some affection for the admittedly cute Sovereign, but resolving within himself to not step outside of his title, he opted to not approach her openly. It would seem however, that she had different plans, as after a slight accident she dragged him to sit with her, dine, and speak about vastly different pasts.
Month Two The Intentions of the invading peoples was now made clear when they divided among themselves territories to be ruled. The Kryss were the most harsh, and most hated, and oftentimes Sakirai would lay in wait underneath the sands as they would walk by, lashing at their people, their families, before bursting out from the sands, shouting “RHO’AHAI!!!” and slaying them quickly with their Dynasts before retreating. This guerilla war had just began, and it seemed it would only become more and more bloody as the retaliation of the Kryss grew stronger with each and every blow struck against them. Yet still, the tenacity of the Sakirai, and those Lords pushed off their lands proved to be strong; many called them heroes, the Kryss called them HERETICS.
The Dynas were more loved, as Sakirai and Freed Slaves soldiers alike flocked to serve one Lord or another’s interests as minor conflicts broke out. They embraced the similar customs of the Sakirians, and went as far as to pray within the temples dedicated to Sakir. It was here the more Traditional found their place, it was here they could invoke Rho’Ahai freely before battle. And so it was, that life would continue almost as it had in the past.
The Cypherians were granted governance over the capital Ostan’Hallah of the County Ostanakar, and the Fortress and the outlying town of Ostan’Hallah became more akin to a city, now with foreign structures inching their ways higher into the skies than was thought safe by the Sakirians, for fear of the harsh wind storms which would occur in Guk’tar-Khur, a result of the mixing of hot and cold airs from the Night and Day sides of the planet. And yet construction continued, and with it, the degradation of the sacred Sakiri traditions. No mind was given to water, for now it was plentiful, from a world made of it. No Respect given to Sacred Sakiri Architecture, which once kept the winds sated, and uninterrupted. The Dunes were now plowed more widely, and watered liberally, harboring foreign crops and other plants. Even upon Guk’tar-Khur where most of the food on Sakiris was produced, never was there ever seen such excess.
Excess in pleasure and material began to take root, and there were those… disaffected Sakirai who would take matters into their own hands, to return their people to the strong and hardy life they once lived, and were beginning to lose grasp of. Thus here the ambushes began as well. From the sands, lept Sakirai at the patrolling soldiers in rags, who were left afraid to tread upon anything that wasn’t a stone or modern concrete foundation. The soldiers would fire, but to no avail, their weapons couldn’t penetrate the sacred Dynastar armors of those who wore them. Those who weren’t cut down immediately, would retreat with their comrades and focus fire on individual targets, effectively eliminating the threat. But still… the threats persisted, and rumors abound of an underground network of Sakirai conspiring to overthrow these occupiers.
Otun was further charmed by her Majesty the Queen of the Cypherians, as he’d come to know them. Otun knew well something was up, but refused to make any direct approaches; for he was a mere Baron, and she a Queen of a rumored Holy World of Water. Yet still, she took his hand, and brought him to what he saw as a complete waste of resources… Who in their right mind would build an indoor mountain just to climb it? He thought, unusually cool within the climate controlled atmosphere, he began to feel himself freeze. Nevertheless, he persisted and with the Queen, climbed upon the artificial mountain, something he thought could just as well have been done outside.
Month Five
The Cruelty of the Kryss grew, and with it, the number of disaffected Sakirai who joined an underground order of warriors who all had one goal in common, to restore the honor of their people by any means necessary.
It became common to hear of news of an attack every other day, with shadowy Sakirai laying in wait beneath the sands, waiting to take their next Kryss Victim. In their eyes, these Kryss were nothing but the spawn of hell, and they were treated as such, often times many were left impaled upon spears, or completely dismembered for all to see. It gave many hope, but also despair, for the Kryss grew ever more cruel with every retaliation, even going so far as to whip a child to death, to kill families at will, or use them for their sick and demented experiments. And yet still, those Sakirai who weren’t killed in combat, would be brutally tortured, shouting aloud to Rho’Ahai the Deity of War, resisting in any way they could before they succumbed to their injuries or punishments.
So the war continued, leaving piles of burning corpses both Kryss and Sakiri alike…
Within Cypherian controlled lands, the only safe places were those which were completely rooted with cement foundations, holding upon them ugly towering structures many still feared as unsafe. Still, these places were where they were mandated to live, as their old homes were sacrificed to these structures. The ancient walls, battered and scorn from battle were also torn down to make way for more expansion, Eftalya and Harai could only watch as their home slowly began to Burgeon into something completely unrecognizable. They both held fear for what would lie ahead, but their mouths they kept silent for fear of retaliation both by the Sakirai of these lands, and by the Cypherians themselves who by the hundreds of thousands still garrisoned the massive settlement and its lands. Outside the city, the dunes belonged to the Sakirai, whom the Cypherians would soon learn stayed within caves, and sand burrows. Some rode the much feared Loh’A-Lud, the Dune Dragons of Sakiris who specialized in stealth beneath the sands. There were also those who openly road upon the hardy Ho’ahn-Ka’tar (Sakiri reptilian horses), which the Cypherians themselves learned to do. They would strike in large numbers with Fire and Lance in lightning attacks against patrols, caravans, and any outworlders who found their unfortunate souls outside the safety of the city and its expansive farms.
Otun thought about the Sakirai, his own people, torn between his loyalties to his lord Harai and his own people and culture. Still, his affections for the Queen grew, and with her constant advances he felt comfortable in embracing her, and teaching her the ways of the desert on occasion.
Month Seven Propaganda from the races of Sanctus Edenis would have one believe advancements were taken to by all with great enthusiasm, that the Sakiri peoples would be quick to adopt the ways of the Kryss and Cypherians. Only the Dynas understood how to rule the sons and daughters of Sakir well, and it showed with their continued expanse into Nocte-Khur, where night ruled the skies eternally, and Lords bent the knee to these Prawn-like beings who were superior in every way.
The Kryss now faced great troubles, with the Dukes and Sultans nearby gathering great forces to march against them, as the Sakirai resistance emboldened with a major battle upon the sands: Nearly 400 hiding Sakirai, upon being located by the Kryss, charged to their deaths, and fighting valiantly, took many Kryss with them. They were led by a dead warrior, shot through the neck, mounted upon a Loh’A-Lud, who took dozens of the enemy with it before it too succumbed to the weapons of the defilers. Their deaths became the battle cries of many, who donned Sakiri Steel and Dynastar, joining the holy war against the Infidels, in what was evolving to become a Jihad.
The Cypherians still faced notable resistance, but not nearly as much as the Kryss, as large shipments of water coming in from the outer world gave more and more life to the Dunes, making it harder and harder to hide and resist the overwhelming power of the blue skinned peoples. Some would lay down their weapons and join those of the Blue Skin, and yet others still held their deep seated hatred of the Blue Skins, and looking to the Sky thought of the supposed Holy World that could be theirs for the taking, a world made of water.
Otun enjoyed the wide availability of water, but still he wondered whether or not it was worth it to indulge so, especially here within a palace, water filling vast pools the likes of which he’d never seen. He watched Suisse swim among such wealth, and tried not to dare enter out of respect for the water, no less with hardly anything beneath his robes… but her persuasive mannerisms and manner of dress made him do otherwise. For the first time in his life, the seasoned hulking warrior submerged himself beneath the sheer wealth of water before him, and joined the woman he came to Love within it.
Sharif-El'Sokh: The Sakirai viewed Major Tyler with suspicion, but did not dare lay a hand upon her for fear of the great blue armies from the holy world of water. So they let her through the gate, and thus she rode upon her Ho’ahn through the gates of the high walls and into the bustling city streets where bazaars sold recent harvests and crafts, Soldiers watched for pickpockets, and the people all dressed in robes of all varying colors went about their days, some exchanging glances with the strange major, who wore her robes improperly. Still, these rags served their purpose, as the city lie within Sakir-Khur, outside of the farmlands of Guk’tar-Khur, ever kissed by the sun never ceasing. The heat, enough to force one to go mad, to die within only a few hours of being exposed.
She rode towards a large copper-domed palace, which lay behind a secondary set of sandstone walls manned by one hundred well equipped Sakirai who halted her approach, and upon seeing her blue skin, let her through. Puzzled by their lenience, Major Tyler rode into the palace courtyard before dismounting and approaching the mosaic-adorned doors, which were swung wide open for her to behold within a large hall, supported by large pillars of fine whitestone, flanked by legions of servants, notables, and Sakirai guards.
At the end of the palace hall would lie the throne of the Sultanna, underneath the massive dome it seemed the air over the throne could fit a world within it. On the throne sat a middle-aged woman, dressed in fine blue robes, wearing upon her head a tiara embedded into a feminine turban, tails flowing from the back of it and draping themselves upon her shoulders. On her hip, sat a Dynast, its sheath decorated with jewels and gold inlay, her left hand rested upon it, while her right rose to signal Major Tyler to stop.
“You! I’ve been waiting for one of your own… Is it true what they say? That you come from a world made of water?” She rose from her throne and stood upon the finely polished stone floor, “Come now, speak.”
Taurgha
L empire
With the Kryss
General Chukolovki Nikolai, stood at a sand dune. Visors in one hand, as one of his mechanic hands used it to allow him to see at the forming army, in front of him. Sultans, Dukes and Resistence leaders. HEATHENS, all had been assembling before him. Chukolovki had been following this resistance for months. They rejected Gabriels ways, they fought against him in everyway. They allowed there lives to be ruled by superstition, rather then by fact. These people, no animals, for they like the primitive Dynas proved themselves to be inferior in almost all regards, and unlike the Dynas, the Kryss did not need to play niceties with them. Thus his army stood. Twenty thousand Rifle Men,Five Thousand Gas Troopers, Two Thousand Purge Trooper and a thousand megafauna, prepared. He saw the army gathering before him, getting larger, marching onto his position. His beaty eyes hardened, and his heart beat with hate, as he began his first orders. “TROOPERS, GAS MASK ON!” He shouted, and the Army of the Great Scientist Gabriel, dawned upon there snouts, black mask, with tubing going all throughout attaching itself to various ports across the Kryss armor. “Riflemen, ready your arms.” The Rat men would move into position, there thick heavy black coats swishing in the air, heavy layers of titano-kevlar armor underneath, as there clawed hands raised there brimming Red plasma rifles. “Gas Troopers! PREPARE MORTARS!” He shouted, as behind the dunes, the Gas Troopers prepared there weaponry, setting up there mortars and beginning to turn the nobs, locking into the correct positions. “Purge Troopers, prepare the Nerve Melters, and if you say any Soldier run. Blow there legs for cowardice, and make them fight.” he said, as the dark skinned men and woman marched quicker towards him. “Soldiers…on my orders, upon Gabriels name, FOR THE SACRED HOLY WAR AGAINST THE HEATHENIC DOGS, FIRE!” He shouted.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vEB7BkPsWOk
From the Sakiri perspective, they saw rifles made of black and red, and mattenened Rat men leaving their cover. Their gas mask conceals any emotions that could be reduced from their looks. Their armor was coated in black, like the deepest devil in the darkest of Hells. They looked like Demons, ripping out from the sands, as they began to fire. Then the Sakiri heard heavy thud, after heavy thud, as they saw large green canisters shoot out, and whirring towards them. Before they knew it, it crashed into the ground and exploded in a fire of green gas. No…this wasn’t gas, this was Rot, as they felt whatever plague or disease...eat their exposed flesh and cause it to melt. Eye’s become puddles of jelly in their skulls, as the screaming firing Rat men just charge forward, unleashing dozens of harsh red blasts of plasma. Then came the reign of the Nerve melters. Any unfortunate person who would be struck by them, would find there nervous system to begin to melt in and out, only Dynastar would protect one from such a direct blow, and only if it struck an area, which was covered, if it made contact with flesh, the nervous system would begin to rapidly melt. And then came the roars. There from the gases and the sands, plowed through a thousand of The Kryss homeworld Mega fauna. Beast from the depths of Hell itself, who the Kryss have seemingly bent to their service. Thousand large six hundred foot tall, towering behemoths with four tendril like spider legs, and a large circular body, plowed through the sakiri lines, screeching at them from the dozen mouths that covered its large bulbous body, Teeth line each mouth, and would become unattached almost, and drop down hundreds of feet, to consume dozens of men in a single swoop of its disgusting ways. But strapped to each were two heavy plasma cannons, that blasted away at the armies assembled. Each Beast had a Kryss rider upon it, on a control platform, which was drilled and embedded into the demonic beast skull. The Beast would let out shrieks and horrific gurgles. Its hundred, hundred eyes darted around madly, and these eyes, looked almost too human.
There upon the sands. Faith clashed with Faith. Who was Infidel and who was Just, who was Righteous and was the Demon, as blood was spilt across the sands.
With the Queen
As the mighty Otun entered the water, she got her first glimpse of the man, not in robes or armor. Boy, she was…impressed. She was staring at his chest, his fine tuned muscles for a long period of time, before diverting her eyes away slowly, to stare into his eyes, as she delved into the waters. There he could see beneath him, Her majesty The Queen of the Cypherian Elegantly swam towards him, her form swayed through the waters, as her bathing suit clung to her form, amplifying her most…abundant features. As she swam through the waters, she resembled a beautiful Goddess of myth almost. She came up up right before him, her hair swayed with the motion, the green and blue lockes pouring from her head outwards. She was now face to face with the man, and they both could make out the details of each other. Her delicate dainty hand would slowly touch his face, admiring it for its grizzled features, before Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she just held her safe there, allowing the both of them to bask in each other's warmth and mutual love. They stood there for a long minute, not moving before she broke the silence. “I am gonna be trying to negotiate the lying down of arms of some of the rebels.” she said, her voice filled with lust and temptation, as she lowered her head into Otun bosom, her hand grasping his. “I would love someone there for protection, and possibly to help negotiate.” she said, before looking up at him, her deep blue eyes locking with his. Showing him her trust in him, her admiration and love.
“And then after that I plan to host a ball, to celebrate prosperity. I do need a date.” she said, as her hands would grasp his and slowly place them upon her waist. As she looked up at him again, beauty flowed from her form. “And well…who knows what could happen from there.” she said lowering herself to give him a brief but tender kiss on the lips. It was full of love and passion, and he could feel her warmth across his body, as she allowed herself for a brief moment to drop any pretense of royalty, or power, and allow herself to be a normal person for once, and show someone lower then her station, true, unadulterated love. She would slowly pull back, looking at him dead in his eyes, looking a bit nervous about his reaction. “So…what do you say.” she said with a smile, and a nervous glint in her eyes, but a glint which showed nothing but love for the man in front of her.
With the Major
The Major would bow slightly to the Sultana, as she was about to speak before being cut off with a sudden demand. “Why…yes, I am a cypherian. I am from Cypherius. Which is what you would call a water…world.” she said awkwardly, as she reached into her pocket for something. She had prepared all the necessities, for negotiations, or at least she thought she had, as she pulled out a small picture of Cypherius taken from orbit. She would hand it to one of the servants, telling the servant to show it to the Sultana. “Yes, I come here, not as foe, but as friends and partners.” she spoke out, as the servant brought the picture to the Sultana.
The Sultana would see upon their sight, a world unlike any other. No world in their imaginations could fit such a righteous image. Its lands were rich with oceans. They were untempered and vast, clouds swarmed them. She could make out little details of rain fall upon one cloud that hovered over, what the Sultana could see as a massive array of lights, that dotted the small land masses of the world. But, what was even more impressive, was this picture was taken from orbit, thus in the background, one could see the variety of ship construction yards, and orbital depos, and she could make out the vastness of the Cypherian navy. Their ships dwarfed any spacecraft that Sakiris could muster. Their cargo freighters, were larger than any Sakirian warcraft. “That was captured by a satellite camera, I can show you a shrunk down version of the technology which had obtained this photo.” she said, as she rummaged through her bag, pulling out a hand held camera, and snapping a single picture of her and the Sultana, before handing it over to another Servant, telling them to bring the device to the Sultana to show the absolute proof, of what her eyes would be seeing. “My final request is while we are meeting. May I ask to stay here, and get accommodated.” she spoke, her words a bit more authoritative in tone, but avoiding showing an intention of domination or superiority.
And so, as the Watrike did a number of fun little flying formations, Nia had found her place in Trikorn. With Cendri as well as two new friends, she would be well suited to continue her integration into life among the rest of the Watrike. Finally home.
(FIN for now)
- - -
As Sarxaxa made her sudden request, Razethorne paused his movement and glanced back towards his father. His face one of anticipation in case he decided to order him to go with the Valx to this ball of hers. Tyfrondor meanwhile raised an eye at the mention of some 'Dragon Ball', and similarly glanced over at Razethorne to gauge his feelings on this matter. After a moment of consideration, Tyfrondor came up with a solution, "I cannot take the time out to suddenly go to this 'Dragon Ball' you mention, I have a great number of duties to attend to in regards to my multiple stations. As for Razethorne, while I am sure he would be willing, he too has many duties to attend to. My son is an important part of my administration's functionality, and I would prefer him to focus on the current objective of looking more into the matter of Shyr and your bank deed. However! I understand the importance of introducing yourself among the clans, and I would be irresponsible as a liege to simply let you go alone without a representative of my own to help with the introductions. Fortunately, with your arrival here, a trusted associate of mine now has his own schedule opened up." Tyfrondor glanced over at a Watrike guard, who nodded and quickly stepped outside. The Guard returned a moment after, joined by a familiar Red Dragon. Tyfrondor looked to Sarxaxa, "As I entrusted him to bring you here in the first place, I shall now entrust him with the duty of being your minder. You shall be accompanied to this Dragon Ball by Ezron! He is a known diplomat in my service, a trusted friend, and is very familiar with the clans of Heord. They will recognize that his presence alongside you means that you are indeed in my direct service now. You are of course willing to do this, right Ezron?" He looked over at his old friend. Ezron was rather surprised by this, as he had just learned this was happening at all after being brought back into the room. But he recognized Tyf's look, which was a silent request to do this so that he didn't have to. Such things a Dragon picks up on after knowing eachother for many, many years. As such the Red Dragon smiled and nodded, "If that is what you wish, very well! I would be happy to introduce our new arrival to the clans of Heord. I suppose I was already going to have to show her and her family to their new homes, so I can handle both." He looked over at Sarxaxa a bit nervously, but still smiled, "Seems then I shall be accompanying you. Again."
And around about as that happened, two Combat Drakes entered the throne room and quietly placed a catlike Ymira down next to Saraxa. Quietly bowing their heads before the Grand Drake, Tyfrondor just had to sigh. And with a wave of his paw, he silently dismissed them to go back to their own affairs. The Grand Drake then glanced over at Sarxaxa, gesturing towards Ymira. Her responsibility.
With Ymira having been sent back to her mother, that left Myrsa alone with Tarral. Chuckling, Tarral watched Ymira get carried off back towards the throne room. It was cute, but probably for the best she was brought back to her mother now. Returning her attention to the conversation, she was surprised as Myrsa got that sudden burst of determination. But she smiled, enjoying that Myrsa wasn't letting this get to her too much, "Well, I doubt my parents would mind waiting, but if that's what you wish, very well. That means heading to the Menfiraiax Domains, specifically the village of Keztris. That's where my dad lives... And technically it's also where the Grand Court of Fire is housed too, because my dad is the Claw of Law," she said, clearly expecting now that Myrsa would understand what that meant in Draconic terms. "Fortunately not that far from here. He got his lands from the Grand Drake directly actually, as a reward for his support. They're very close to the Golden Mountain, so we could fl-... Er, walk. Walk there. Hope you're ready to exercise your legs then. After that, you're definitely off to the Wing Doctor. And if you really want your scales back, a Scale Artisan needs to be visited after that. Nobody better for scale work! Anyways, let's go." With that, she got up began to walk out of the cafeteria, to begin the long walk out of the mountain and to the nearby village.
- - -
Tombuiorn
On the Anubite homeworld, a very special ceremony had been prepared. A rather large gathering of Anubites and some press officials go to the Royal Palace of the Rwims, the official residence of the Anubite High Lord and his relatives. The place of the interest today however was not within the palace itself, but rather it's large courtyard. Under the watchful eyes of towering statues resembling Highlords from ancient times, a wedding ceremony was being prepared. Alongside the great gardens of the Rwims, a large central stage had been set up. For seating, rows of benches were being set up as well. The benches were actually being set up in a circular fashion around the stage, in more of the fashion of a stadium rather than just a line. The formation and the breaks in it was in fact designed around resembling Tombuiorn's great rivers, with the central stage acting as the stand in for the great central sea they all flowed into. A symbolism that played into how the Anubites viewed the act of marriage itself as a great joining into one greater whole.
But also important were the distinctly supernatural aspects of this event. The great statues of the High Lords were stationary, but their eyes glowed with unnatural fire. Spirit Stones, the gems which the Anubites used to carry their spirits, had been placed in the eye sockets of each statue. One for the High Lord who the Statue represented, and one for said High Lord's spouse. The Ancestors would be present to watch from on high as their descendant was married. After all, once this was done, a new member would be married into the greater Rwim family. Past, present, and soon to be future, all together now.
And of course many visitors and press members had come, as this marriage contained a very relevant person indeed. However most of them were firmly kept out by the Rwim House Guard, as usual for Rwim marriages. Family affairs were family affairs in Anubite Culture, and thus only those of the relevant families could get in. Which meant only one journalist was let in among the crowds, an old Anubite working for "Oasis Weekly", was let in, as he happened to be of Rwim blood from one of the many branch families. He was acceptable, as Oasis Weekly was a very noble and prestigious news network, and one very loyal to Anubite traditionalism.
With all of this set up, soon enough it would be time for the ceremony proper. And the groom was somebody quite important, which was why the press wanted in. Prince Orystian Arganraxel, of the Talmyrox. A most unusual wedding between Anubite and Ghashyr royalty, as the bride was Feme Rwim. And yet, High Lord Sethus had officially given his approval and consent, and none were willing to question him. Feme was an older woman and was the High Lord's aunt, and thus she was free to do as she wanted. And what was wanted would happen today.
"That sounds idyllic. I grew up in a small cottage near the hills. My family were rabbit farmers and beekeepers. We kept a large family of rabbits to sell to the village and used the honey to make wax and all sorts of other things. My mother and father were going to give the farm to my sister and have me marry me off to the son of our village's councillor. But then the local lord and a strange man came to the village one day. He came with a small retinue of his guard and some clerks. Our councillor announced that all the villagers were to assemble for a ceremony welcoming his friend to the shire. His friend was announced as Knight Caterham of Jonsby. Though he never explained why he came to the village. We were then surveyed, the whole town by this knight. Eventually he selected a group of teenagers, myself included and told us he was a retainer for the Wizard Sullivan. That the wizard was a guest of the lord's. We were taken to the manor to meet this wizard. He chose me to be his apprentice and sent the others away with a letter to my family and a sum of three arcalite coins. He took me into his care and we left that evening for Bezembay." She kept her story short once she reached that point. "And that's how I began my journey to becoming a witch."
She listened to his assessments of each of their various styles and commented in return, "Well all Bezannian magick is voice based. We learned all we did from Lea Odarin mages. Their runic magick has enabled us to learn how to cast with our voice. No hands or drawings needed, it takes the correct pitch and vocalisation to cast. Not just anyone can learn Tur-Leigear. It takes a long time just to find your voice and after that it takes even longer to learn the correct pronunciations to get a good cast. If you would be willing, I'd love to demonstrate!" She said enthusiastically. But as he commented on the silk string style, she shook her head vehemently. "Oh no, no no. The Silk String style is not the tool of an assassin. And the emperor has no need of a personal assassin in his court. It is just for other purposes. It is a particular style I am not very familiar with, so I cannot comment much on it."
Martin held his head up high, "It is Bezannia's destiny to cross east and west! If the east cannot support our imperial needs then the west will!" He paused his enthusiastic proclamations to listen to Zenos' story. "Your younger brother is truly a warrior fit for a crown. Your empire slowly slipping away from you, your brother dedicating his life to the sword far north, and both of us here. Sitting in this moment." Martin nodded slowly, "both of us must act now. Bezannia has a horizon ahead of it and Zantine needs to find its horizon too." Martin clenched his fists and held them up, "join me Zenos. Allow our empires to remind the east the powers we wield. Bezannia needs allies so the whole east does not think they can turn against us. And Zantine needs a powerful friend to help dust off its past. Consider it an investment." Martin said as he walked to the window and approached a small telescope stand. Martin gestured to it. "If I can draw your attention to the harbour down below. You'll see there are five ships departing about now. Each are loaded with a generous investment of wealth for your empire. Not just money and arcalite, but a great many treasures your nation may make use of. A variety of interesting things we have been working on, as well as some choice secrets we kept from the civil war. I trust your empire can seize this investment and use it wisely." Martin swaggered away, "with the embassy established on Instabull I am comfortable sending a staff of attachés to advise your government further. But I believe the largest prize I can offer is this." Martin said as he turned on his heels. "The shipyards of Nemal are currently awaiting a new project. I can foresee their drydocks being used to lay down some ships bearing the flag of Zantine."
Sarxaxa realizing her companion to the ball would be the well-known weakling Ezron made her feel almost betrayed, losing her words and almost groaning. Her eyes could pierce Ezron with the disgust and anger they were carrying as he entered the room "You're doing me no favor sa'ar Ezron! Consider it a privilege to accompany me since it will never happen again! I hope you will be up to the task at least, though I doubt it." She snorted and stomped her feet to put emphasis on the "never again" part. Her demeanor quickly changed however when Ymira was brought before her like the common criminal she was; The young posh mother looked at the hatchling with utter disappointment, tilting her head a bit "Ymiraaka tzel Katak'sar... why do you always have to make a fool out of you, your clan and your own mother? What did I tell you about other clans' nests?" Ymira lowered her head whimpering "..a clan's nest is a clan's fire". Sarxaxa walked slightly miffed towards Ymira and tapped Ymira's forehead once "Exactly, and we don't play with other clans' fire! Dumb dragoness! Now behave or I won't take you to the ball" with that she turned bowing respectfully to Tyfrondor before walking towards the exit "My Saresh.. ..sa'ar Ezron, let's go.." Ymira sobbed feeling insulted, merely muttering angrily "..am not dumb" as she was walking. Sadly Sarxaxa's ear turned a bit and she immediatelly turned her three times larger head just over the youngling "You are and you will remain a dumb-dumb unless you learn to behave and handle situations respectfully without needing me to clear your mess! Then you will be the smartest one! Now sush and act more proper infront of our new Saresh if you want to prove what a smart little ruby you are!" Ymira rolled her eyes and defeated gave a very cute bow towards Tyfrondor immitating her mother's accent "...my Saresh! sha'ar Eshron ..letsh goe" ...Sarxaxa seemed to be having a headache.
Myrsa's eyes resembled little stars and her heart begun pounding fast as she saw this blessed dragoness be so upbeat and willing to go at such great lengths to help her, a measly little ruin of a lizard. She got up smiling, not even caring about the incident before "I ..thank you Tarral! I have been but a fool since we met, yet you repay this with even more kindness and respect. Even if you do this only out of good manners, this Katak'sar will be your loyal friend!" as they walked she begun admiring the iddylic nature of her new home while listening to her companion "Your dad lives in a village? ...weird, in Valak history most prefered either a grand and noble cave or well ..some boring uncomfortable mountain. Some even lived in the beaches, imagine that! Some dragons just don't know how cosy a cave can be ...if you can enjoy some fresh air from time to time that is." She pondered a bit trying to remember Sarxaxa's teachings about old laws "Claw of Law you say, that is important-sounding, like ..let me think ..we had the Claw of Right, Natzarod tzel Tza'kaeris! The Claw would decide by pointing with the claw on they who was right or wrong based on who fought the best and sustained the most in the grand arena! The just dragon cannot stand injustice, therefore they will sustain more hardship to prove a point; Very just and noble way of solving disputes." she chuckled a bit "I hope your dad doesn't put me through an arena in my current state, I'd look very guilty ...I'm quite a sinful valak, heh" she thought back on that a bit "Though I bet I can beat any dragon in a blade fight! I bet my wings on that, whatever they're worth!"
Quite unexpectadly the doors opened wide, as war-horns sounded and the one-eyed Maltez knights in full arcalite armor begun standing forming two lines, raising their swords as Otrysian walked beneath the blades prideful. He looked pristine, serious and royal in his nearly ancient by now but perfectly kempt old Talmyrene attire, the old Crown of Eagles included, while his chest was full of the medals won in the War of the Usurper and the Third Tarkan War. In his right hand he carried his new Rwim kopesh "Brotherly Soul" and on the left the eagle-claw dagger. The entrance was so sudden and militaristic that some of the Anubite guards got nervous, only for Otrysian to smirk and turn towards one of them "Don't worry old chap, I do plan on paying some dues long overdue, but not this one" Suddenly the captain of the guard shouted in a martial manner so that all could hear "His Greatness! Commander-Martax of the faithful, prince-drattan Otrysian I of the Talmyrox Ghaen Shyryen! Vhin ta Talmyr, Death to Darkness!" Otrysian turned slightly annoyed at the captain muttering "..you're alienating the crowd, Samythen.." ..however, once his eyes caught the dark-coated presence of Feme, the rather hardy and sarcastic old warrior turned a bit purple and smiled widely, walking hastily near her "Feme... love of my light!", standing nervously next to her.
"Picked up by a knight, huh? Quite the intense job interview, without knowing what exactly you were getting picked out for. And yet, not all too dissimilar to how I ended up in my position." Brackson thought back to a time he had mostly forgotten, to exchange his own brief story. "I wasn't randomly selected, my father offered me up to the Rangian Vanguard, as is tradition for many households on Minos that seek favor and continued good graces. I became aware of this fact when one day a pair of men arrived at my family's manor. One was an older Taurus, wearing armor quite like mine, and the other was a Human doctor. The Vanguard among them introduced himself as Instructor Arlangius, and he was perhaps a bit too old for active service. But the old man had enough life left in him to train a new more generations of Vanguard, and I had the possibility of being one of them. Of course, the doctor was there to make sure I was healthy and suitable, and Arlangius was there because he trusted his gut more than anything. No health complications to be found, and the old man felt I had potential. Just like that, I ended up a ship bound for Instabull. Turned out well enough, I'd say."
He gave a small nod, "Right, the Cuthians are pretty similar, although I don't believe Pundramancy is quite as... elegant with its wordplay. Far more to do with the words, twisted as they are, rather than pitch or tone. And as I avoid Pundramancers like the plague, for very good reason, means I've never heard purely vocalized magic before. Ialao Druids are all about hand signs, Anubites love their staves and mystical crystals, and so on." Brackson then rubbed the back of his head in slight embarrassment, "Right, right, sorry. Suppose my job description leans me into naturally assuming such applications. Understandable that you cannot be familiar with every style of magic, that's how specialists work after all. Suppose the wider knowledge is best left for Sullivan. Still!" He clapped his hands and smiled, "If you're still willing to demonstrate, I'd love to see it. Or hear it, I suppose!"
"Investment, huh? Guess that's one way to look at it, and you're hardly wrong," Zenos commented as he walked over towards the stand. He looked at the telescope, and looked where Martin was referring to. While looking upon the ships, Zenos made a murmur of interest, "Large vessels. Those ain't standard cargo freighters, and I can tell from that you aren't lying about having more than just money aboard. And even if it was just arcalite, I could make great use of that. If there is one thing I can be thankful about in regards to my father's policies, it was in finances. He made great strides in purging the corruption from our ranks, which means I can apply these investments of yours without worry of corrupt administrators or greedy nobles getting in the way." He then stepped back from the telescope, looking over at Martin, "Shipyards, now that's something else I could really use. Zantium's naval power has been far weaker since we lost Avalantus and its mighty dockyards, and we can hardly rely on Proscore's great orbital drydocks either for major projects. They aren't precisely friendly to us. Instabull isn't lacking, but its limited in comparison to our greatest days. So you're not wrong, that is the greatest prize. Shipyards can't be built overnight, after all. But with both those rather generous offers in mind, I am curious what you expect from the Zantine Empire in return? Friendship is one thing, but typically an investment comes with the expectation of being paid back in kind."
The older red Dragon barely avoided rolling his eyes at the declaration, just giving a grimacing look over at Tyfrondor when Sarxaxa got distracted by her mischievous offspring. The Grand Drake for his part glared at the offending Katak'sar for a moment, before giving Ezron a small sigh and a look of his own. The resignation in the Grand Drake's eyes told Ezron everything he needed, and Ezron couldn't help but grin. Not the first time he would have to save his old friend from such a situation, and it almost certainly would not be the last! He had his part to play. And so with a smile still on his face, Ezron walked up behind the two Katak'sars as they were moving to leave, "Now now, no reason to cry. The Grand Drake is understanding, he's a father himself. All the same, if we're treating this as a privilege, best then to get going. The other clans will be most interested in meeting the newest vassals of Clan Granion after all." Letting that hang for a moment, Ezron turned back to Tyfrondor and gave a small bow, "Goodbye for now, my Drake. Or Saresh, if we're using this fancy new offworlder lingo. And goodbye to you as well, Razethorne. We'll catch up later." With that he turned and marched his way out, leading the two Katak'sar's out. Tyfrondor for his part simply gave an affirmative nod, and watched quietly as they left. He certainly had a lot to consider now, and plans to change.
It was not a long journey to the destination that Ezron decided to lead Sarxaxa towards, in fact it was just a short flight from the Golden Mountain. The location in question was a large castle built into the side of a nearby, different mountain. Ezron had chosen to enter through a landing pad type area, and he began to explain as he walked towards the door of choice, “Now, there is no ‘Dragon Ball’ as you put it currently ongoing. However, Clan Therkiza did decide to host a party today, and the date is no coincidence. The official reason is the clan leader, a Dragon by the name of Gyornsar, celebrating the renovations to his domain, that being this castle. However the unofficial reason for this gathering is a neutral spot from which the clans of Heord can discuss recent developments and cut deals, while the Grand Drake is supposedly busy. Clan Therkiza is neutral in most affairs, as well as being old and respected, making Gyornsar’s castle a popular neutral ground. One of those recent developments, by the way, is the news that lost kin have been discovered and are being brought to Heord… We’re going to be surprise guests.” He smirked, “This serves the Grand Drake’s purposes two fold. First, we get to display that this meeting did not go without his notice. Second, the clans in attendance are from a wider spectrum, and should serve as an excellent introduction for you into Heordal Clan Politics, without giving any of them the chance to pretty themselves up for you. Perhaps it’s a bit rude to arrive unannounced, but none can afford the prestige loss of being the first to tell our lost kin that they are unwelcome,” he finished with a short chuckle.
With that, he opened the door up. They had actually come in through a side door, not the front entrance, and this led onto an empty balcony. Looking down upon the main castle grounds, where a large gathering of Dragons was taking place. Only Dragons, no softskins were present here. In addition, there were a number of banners strewn about, likely one for each of the invited clans. Thanks to their elevated position, and the fact they were as of yet unnoticed, Ezron took the chance to start pointing Dragons out, “Over there in the back, that’s good old Gyornsar. Wealthy, friendly, and quite strong. Neutrality is a difficult position for most Heordals to hold, but Gyronsar has the strength to make it count.” The Dragon he pointed out was an older, larger one, comfortably sitting towards the back and entertaining a batch of younglings with stories. His age showed, as his resplendent golden scales had faded a bit in color. Gyornsar had a number of scars, including a missing eye which he concealed with an eyepatch, but he seemed jovial enough. His wounds and clearly used claws however demonstrated that he had earned his vaunted position of respected neutrality through battle, not mere words. Ezron’s claw turned towards another batch, this time a proud looking Mountain Dragon, “There’s Kothex, of Clan Achjaris. Archetypal Mountain Dragon Combat Drake, like much of the rest of his clan, and he’s the heir to their leadership. The Achjaris are vassals to Clan Granion much like yourself now, Katak’sar. Kothex in particular has served the Grand Drake for a long time now, he fought against the Talmyrox on Yoricko and against the Confederacy in the Civil War. Handy advice about him, he’s stern and uptight, but fairly easy to flatter. Just bring up his battlefield accomplishments, and he’s simple. Also, he gets nervous around Montezuria. Think it might be because she scares him?” Ezron’s speculations aside, Kothex fit the description. His Combat Drake status clearly mattered to him, as he was still wearing his armor, unlike most of the other Dragons in attendance. He was in the midst of proudly showing off a gauntlet, bringing attention to strange crystals that were built into the claws. And finally, Ezron sighed and pointed at a grouping of Dragons towards the back. This batch consisted of a few different Dragons, predominantly Cave Dragons but also a few Town Dragons, who were all gathered around one clearly important Dragoness. This Dragoness had resplendent red scales, already making her stand out among the golden majority, and was rather attractive by Draconic standards. Ezron explained with a frown, “And that, leading a gathering of the anti-Tyfrondor clans, is Krezena Shadtai, the matriarch of Clan Shadtai. Also, she is my mother. While she is not technically my clan’s leader, my father is little more than a puppet in her paws and dances to whatever tune she desires. Same goes for all the Dragons around her, all from the various vassal clans of the Shadtai. Likely one of the most dangerous Dragonesses in this room.” He then turned to Sarxaxa with a serious look, “And a bit of friendly advice; keep your other sibling away from Krezena. For her own safety and well being. I’ve seen how Myrsa interacts with Tarral, and I’ve seen how she acts in general over time. My mother can and would sense a great new underling to tempt into her service, and she’s not above any method to do that. And especially in her current state, she’s easy pickings.” “Now, that said, I’ve noted out a few individuals in the room you should be aware of… All that’s left is to make an introduction for yourself. How do you want to do this? We can swing back around and go through the front, or…” He glanced over at the balcony, “We could make a more dramatic entrance, as is suited to direct servants of the Grand Drake. Fly straight down into the center and announce yourself, with of course my escort as unspoken proof you are here with the Grand Drake’s blessing. Believe me, they’ll act annoyed, but that sort of act of brave indignation is a good way to show you mean business, and it’ll especially impress the Mountain Clans.”
-
As they were walking along the path, leading down from the Golden Mountain into a nearby valley, Tarral chuckled at the concept of living in a village being weird. "Seems the Valx were quite like Heord, as our cultures are split among where we live as well. Mountain, Cave, Island, and Village. Strange that you lacked Village Dragons, always felt sensible to me to just build something a bit more cozy than a shack, or a cave." She then raised an eye, "Claw of Right, eh? Seems a bit more brutish than the Claw of Law, but I can see the logic in it. Very Mountain logic. As for fights, I doubt any, unless you get yourself into a duel. Or you insult father's cooking."
With that little warning placed, they arrived at Tarral's village. Or at least it was a village by Draconic standards. Keztris was in fact rather large, with multiple Dragon sized buildings nestled into a pleasant looking valley, a large portion at the back however seemed to be set aside for cattle and was mostly guarded by large boulders arranged like a fence. The buildings themselves tended to be of two different designs, either a massive longhouse type shape, or a great circular hut. On the spherical buildings, it seemed that there was a panel towards the top to allow flying Dragons to land, open, and enter the building from the roof. A demonstration of which occurred as a Dragon flew back to the village from the direction of the fields, with a large beast in its mouth, happily returning to its oversized hovel and going in through the roof-door. Marking those buildings as the residences. Tarral however was headed towards neither of the two more common styles of building, "Father is at the Grand Court of Fire right now, as he's working. Right this way."
Their destination was quite a bit more obvious, as it was a grand tower looking building towards the center of Keztris. At the very top, there was a massive, burning flame. Acting as a great beacon for the town, and marking it as obviously important. As well as the fact it had a guard near the entrance, a large Dragon wearing a fancy helmet and bladed claw-gauntlets. The Guard raised a paw in greeting, "Hail, Tarral, welcome home from whatever business deal you were doing this week, your fath-... What the hell happened to this one? She looks like she was buried in an avalanche! And those wings! Should you not be headed to the Aerial Doctor?" He stated, pointing at Myrsa with concern.
"I intended to bring her to the good doctor after seeing my father, Cyrirak," Tarral responded calmly. "However I felt it best to let her meet my father first, since that work may take some time. I presume he is handling another case, probably another pointless brawl."
The Guard, Cyrirak, was about to respond before he suddenly clamped his paw against the ground and assumed a vigilant looking position, standing at attention. Tarral was confused, until she heard a voice boom out from behind her, "You presume incorrectly, little claw!" Turning to face the Dragon who had just dropped out of the sky behind them, Tarral and Myrsa would see a large, older Dragon. He also wore armor, however it was distinctly ceremonial in appearance and nature, extending to his claws and even wings. And on those wings were large braziers, which tilted as he moved them, making it look more like a scale. "I had heard my daughter went on a trip Ezron of all drakes, and then a visit to the Golden Mountain... You should counsel your father before getting involved with matters related to the Grand Drake, youngling. But I am aware of the situation now." His gaze fell upon Myrsa now, "And you must be one of the offworlders. A... 'Valx', if I remember the terminology the grey softskins used for our kind. Good that you have come, I needed to register your clan as well as any others in the ledgers. Now stand tall and address yourself before the Claw of Law, youngling! Your name, your clan, and your heritage!" he boomed out, raising up one of his ceremonial gauntlets in emphasis.
-
The martial attire got glances from the guards, who were uncertain about all of this, but they did let it slide. Otrysian however was not incorrect in assuming that his subordinate had gone a bit overboard on announcing himself. The captain got a glare from a number of the stern Anubites, including one who seemed to be the official announcer. The jackals among the crowd glared at the accidental, but still occurring, breach of protocol. And the eyes of the statues, burning with soulfire, quickly glanced at him. Judgement from countlessly old generations. Brief, but powerful.
The Announcer Anubite however, deciding to just ignore that, unveiled a scroll. Yelling out to the crowd of Anubites, "In arrival, the honored groom, Prince-Drattan Ortysian I of the Talmyrox! Valued guest of the High Lord and upholder of the ancient treaties, the Ancestors welcome you!" That allowed the crowd to now clap for Ortysian, as he had been formally greeted and announced according to the Anubites. The announcer then spun on his heels, and looked in a different direction, "Now arriving, the bride, Princess Feme Rwim! Honored member of the Imperial Rwim Household, defender of tradition, beneficent diplomat... The Ancestors congratulate you and are here to certify this union!" Then the crowd of Anubites went wild, and all the jackals eyes turned towards the aisle where the older member of the Rwim Household was approaching from. She had a decidedly less martial look to her, instead wearing a lovely and ornate dress that marked her clearly as part of Anubite royalty. Flowing fabrics, and glowing gems quite similar to those of the Soulstones Anubites cared for so deeply. Yet she also had a Khopesh at her side, quite similar in style to "Brotherly Soul" Ortysian now wielded. Fairly important to the ceremony.
Ortysian's slight rush to get to the center stage to stand next to her seemed to be acceptable for the Anubites, and Feme wasn't exactly slow either. As both got to the podium however, appearing in a burst of light behind them was an older Anubite, one who was slightly transparent. An Anubite spirit, and judging by the regalia he wore, it was the spirit of a High Lord. He looked over Ortysian, his phantasmal voice speaking out dryly, "Hm, not the wedding I would expect for one of my descendants. But an old flame, lit by true passion, appears to burn strongly." With that, he gave a small nod of approval, and then his voice became much louder as he magically amplified it for all to hear, "Verified by both living and dead, we all come to witness this union! A historic occasion and merger of families, for as long as it may last. But what matters most today is we see two souls make a choice for their future. A unity of body and soul, a union that begins in life and will continue forever more even into death! Let all bear witness to this newest bond, and may it be as eternal as our souls and our Empire! With the assent of the ancestors, may this marriage between Prince Ortysian and Princess Feme become official! Blades up!" With that, many of the Anubite Guards, who notably were all wielding two blades, raised their swords into the air. Feme raised her own up, and gestured for Ortysian to do the same. The blades were important to make this real, in the eyes of the ancestors. "And... together!"
With that order, all the guards suddenly crossed their blades in the air, loudly clanging them together and creating sparks. Feme moved forward to do the same with Ortysian's Khopesh, clanging them together above their heads. And then, still holding up that sword, she moved forward and kissed him. And the crowd cheered, for strange as this unusual union may be... In the eyes of the Anubites, it was now one that would surpass even death.
Sar'ksasa remained relatively silent throughout the flight towards Ezron, calculating strategies on how to make a first impression upon the so-called Heordals. As they arrived and her redscaled companion begun his exposition of the guests, the young ambitious Valak thought to herself that perhaps Tyfrondor was not that foolish to have such a dragon at his disposal after all; although definitely a coward, he most certainly had a quality of his own she figured. The young matriarch of the Katak'sars leaned a bit towards Ezron "Good suggestions for a Shadtai ..but I am a Katak'sar and we never really were concerned about mountains as much as we do fellow caves. I have to say that you seem to be a knowledgeable short Ezron, but you seem to lack the ruthlessness of a truly great cave ...mommy is not a good clan-leader as much as she is a contenter, I presume. Quite un-clanly behavior, I have to say. Which reminds me..." She then turned to Ymira "Sweetieflame, be sure to watch mom at all times and note how she deals with weaker dragons, alright?" Ymira smiled "Yes mommy! Do I get a pony after it?" Sar'ksasa snorted "A plastic one if you behave.." With that she turned full of confidence towards Ezron once more, covering their conversation with her wing "This is how it goes ...we walk in - you first as the leading male - without drawing any attention, then as we reach the center. You let me do my job and go along with whatever I say. If you do not, it will be your loss Ezron of clan Shadtai, for I see potential in you ..and perhaps I could fix some of your problems, wether you trust me or not. Now without much delay, let's create something for these bored lizards to talk about".
After a bit of prepping up, the two found themselves within the room. While the plan was to not draw much attention, many already did notice the peculiar trio. It was after all a bit suspicious and scandalous that Ezron was accompanying a new whitescale young female dragoness and pink hatchling... As they reached the center, Sar'ksasa stomped the ground and opened her wings to draw attention, while quite loudly announcing herself "AHEM! Ezron of Clan Shadtai has arrived, right-paw and trusted friend of our Grand Drake Tyfrondor, he whose firebreath has no bounds and revenge is meek but definite and deadly. So be sure to pay him the respect befitting him, but be not alarmed, as Ezron is here only to accompany and introduce me; Sar'ksasa of Clan Katak'sar, humble first-vassal of honorable Clan Granion and Great Tyfrondor ...and newest addition to the grand host of Heord" She smirked and looked at various dragons around her "Why yes, the rumors are true of newcomers as it is a fact that I am of Saherod, a Valak and proud to be so! Many sour and immature weaklings might hold in your tongue the words 'Who asked' and the answer would be Tyfrondor himself, so hold them within for you might not want to discover a morning that your tongues might have been cut. To those honorable and strongest of dragons and clan-leaders who care and wish to meet me, I say that I am happy to see who in here is perhaps as great in mind and strength to dare to welcome a new dragon. Those who do not wish so, are perhaps afraid ..and I would not wish to speak to such weaklings. Who in here will be first among dragons to make acquaintances the proper way?"
-
Myrsa felt a bit hurt and insulted by the rather mean remarks of the guard and was about to retort that the guard's face was in a worse state than her wings before Tarral averted a likely disaster. She was of course caught off guard by the arrival of the greater drake in the premises. Turning around to realize that this was Tarral's father, she mustered her strength to open her troubled wings and make a slight bow, though upon hearing a certain word she also snorted; Disregarding any and all fears of meeting with a superior dragon that was also her interest's father, she raised her paw's claw to correct something "First of all, sa'ar, with all due respect but it is Valak, which means Dragon in general. Valx is what softskins call us because they feign an inability to pronounce our true names, which is a lie and purposedfully mean. To answer you, I am Miraak'sana of Clan Katak'sar, daughter of Lasai'ksases Katak'sar, deceased Valek Saresh of Saherod of our once royal clan that boasts forty-seven Grand Drakes of Saherod, a position we held through rightful wrath, wisdom and fire's justice. I am fireborn as all of my clan, which is as we hold to be true, the one great guiding force of all dragons. My clan Katak'sar has stood for our kind against all hardships even when stronger dragons gave up and betrayed our species ..we stand here in dragon form, while the traitors' bones have been turned into dust by the billions of softskins. We led Saherod's dragonkind against all odds and fighting against both weak-minded dragons and the softskin hordes and while we lost the battle for our homeland, we stand proud for at least never giving up, even when those stronger than us in muscle faultered; since while we may be small and of weak constitution, our fire burns bright, vengeful and powerful and ever will! I would say I am most honored to meet you but I would also require your name for it to be a true feeling, sa'ar!"
-
It was rightful and it had been finally accomplished. With the clash of his kopesh with Feme's, Otrysian felt as if he had repaid the greatest debt of his life to whom he always considered to be his wife. No longer they would the old prince have to pretend that Feme was merely a diplomat and all of Astana could in turn resound in jubilations for the wedding. Most importantly, he could finally have his wife stand beside him at all times and perhaps for an eternity. As the two enjoyed the ceremony in Tombuiorn and stayed in the palace grounds for a few days, they soon would have to move to Astana, where a massive celebration was awaiting them ...Feme and Otrysian being showered with flowers, blessings and Ether-powder in what appeared to be the greatest festivities the planet had seen ever since the old times, of peace and good Arganraxel rule. The rather old couple was finally at peace, united not only in soul, but also in the eyes of the ancestors and law. After the festivities ended and Feme was given her princely crown as Princess-Drattan-Regent the two could finally enjoy their married life at peace. Looking outside their bedroom's window in Caer Maltez, Otrysian smiled truthfully while holding Feme in his embrace "Astana's Sun finally looks a bit brighter, don't you think? ...no etherstorms tonight"
With that out of the way, the Arganraxels would have to look at new debts to be paid back, less jovial ones and more demanding...
Ezron rolled his eyes at that backhanded compliment, sighing. "Then you need to improve your ability to adapt to new realities, because Mountains are in charge here. A fact my mother does understand, and she uses to keep control over the caves. Don't worry about being ruthless right now, worry about being perceptive. Your eyes will gain you more than your fangs," he commented briskly, but otherwise he seemed to content to leave it at that, ignoring the insult laid in her words. "I'll do what I do best, and what has kept me alive and relevant. So we'll do your plan, but the only lead I follow is my own, since Tyf isn't here."
On that, he went about getting them back towards the main entrance, and proudly striding forth at the head of the group. Inevitably noticed by many of the other attendees, leading to a number of curious but quiet comments on if the Grand Drake's right-paw had finally gotten themselves hitched, or if they were just revealing it now. A few noticed that Sar'ksasa was a bit odd, and seemed to realize she was the outworlder ahead of time. Which did beg other questions about the hatchling, but it seemed a few realized she was a bit too old to be Ezron's if this was the outworlder. But the rumor certainly had found its soil... All the same, nobody spoke out loud until Sar'ksasa made her rather loud and direct introduction. That got the attention of everyone else who hadn't noticed the entry so far, and many sets of draconic eyes fell upon the peculiar new Dragoness. Preempting anybody else in the room, Ezron in fact raised his voice and took on a very official tone, "By the will of the Grand Drake, I was sent here today to this gathering to introduce you all to our lost, otherworld kin, now returned to the Cradle of Dragons! And as is only proper, now in service to the Grand Drake of all Dragons clan Katak'sar takes their place among Clan Granion's honorable vassals. So look upon the newest addition to Heord's lively atmosphere, and introduce yourself to Sar'ksasa Katak'sar, as well as her young hatchling Ymira Katak'sar!"
The gathered Dragons all waited a moment, some tension in the air. But just as it seemed a dozen of them were about to speak out in greeting, they were all stopped by another stomp on the ground. This came from the old host of the event himself, Gyornsar Therkiza. After stopping a stampede before it began, the old Dragon looked at the new arrivals and smiled, throwing out his wings in greeting, "Welcome then, Ezron and Sar'ksasa! I am Gyornsar of Clan Therkiza, proud lord of this mountain and all the land around it, and lord of my great clan as well. I greet you. Although I might have preferred to be given some indication, you are naturally welcome to this gathering. The hospitality of Heord, as well as myself, is open to all of our kind. It is an honor even that the Grand Drake has chosen my castle as the place from which to introduce the new arrivals! Please enjoy the festivities, and make good conversation. Step forth, we have many introductions to go through. In an honest, orderly, and honorable fashion. We wouldn't want to cause our new arrivals trouble, now would we, honorable guests?" That was almost certainly a threat to the other guests to stay orderly within Gyronsar's hold, but it did the job. With that assertion by the host, things calmed down nicely, and a few Dragons stepped forward to introduce themselves.
First, sauntering up with a big grin, was the Mountain Dragon that Ezron pointed out earlier; Kothex Achjaris. The Armored Dragon came up to Sar'ksasa in a friendly enough way, though he angled his body in a way to make sure she noted a number of scars he had across his body, proof of his achievements. "Salutations, Valak! Welcome to Heord! I am Kothex, heir to the leadership of Clan Achjaris. Our clan has served the Grand Drake loyally for many years, so allow me on behalf of all of his honorable vassals to welcome you into the service of the lord of all Dragons. Clan Achjaris proudly serves as the blade of the Grand Drake, and we have slain many in protection of Clan Granion's honor. As you are a similar servant now, feel free to call upon my clan for aid. The Achjaris consider all fellow loyal servants of the Drake as being under our vigilant protection as well, as befits our duty as one of his first vassal clans, and one of the mightiest Mountain Warrior Clans. We would consider it a privilege to bestow help upon our juniors." He seemed sincere, but that was also a pointed reminder of his own clan's position.
He was almost about to continue, seeming keen to further speak about his clan before Ezron stepped in quickly to speak up, "Good to see you again, Kothex. Once these introductions are over, perhaps we'll have time for you to show us your new gauntlet. If I am looking at it properly, that is fresh from the forges!"
That seemed to grab the warrior's attention, and he quickly seemed to pivot from trying to assert his position. Instead he proudly held up the gauntlet, "You have a keen eye, Ezron! The smiths did well with this one, so I felt it worthwhile to show off to the other vassals! Very well, we can speak more on it later." With that diffused, he stepped back. Allowing for the next important introduction.
This time it was the Dragoness Ezron had pointed out; Krezena Shadtai, Ezron's own mother and matriarch of the Shadtai, despite not being their official clan leader. She approached with two other Cave Dragons flanking her, each fairly large Dragons in their own right. But Krezena was at the front, and she gave Sar'ksasa an appraising look, "Sar'ksasa, is it? Doesn't seem like Saherod has treated you well. Suppose then it is good that Tyfrondor appears to have saved you from that fate. Ah, but of course, manners. I am Krezena Shadtai. As you have come here escorted by my own son, it is only natural you meet the mother. The Shadtai are too proud and glorious a clan to place itself directly in service of Tyfrondor, as we owe our greater allegiance to Dragonkind. And as the most honorable of the caves and caverns, the Shadtai would be happy to humbly assist any of our likeminded kin. The Shadtai have always been generous to our fellow Cave Clans, and doubly so to our vassals. So feel free to speak with me if Clan Granion's support is... inadequate, for your ambitions. And I am sure we could get you a better escort for yourself and your hatchling there."
"I assure you, mother, that this will not be required. Clan Katak'sar is in service to the Grand Drake, so you can be sure that he only has the finest in his direct service, with no need for charity. Unless of course you'd like to express doubts in his choice of vassals?" Ezron spoke, gently gesturing towards Kothex and the other Granion vassals, who didn't show it, but they were definitely listening in case an insult was indirectly thrown their way. "And as for escorts, the Grand Drake chose me specifically, not out of clan. Perhaps if the rest of our clan was so capable, I wouldn't be the only one directly in his service."
Frowning and suppressing a snarl, Krezena glared at her son, "Or perhaps it is out of pity for the stray he picked up before he seized the Golden Mountain? I have heard from those little softskins he keeps huddling around him that he is so very generous towards the weak, after all. The Shadtai do not require such generosity, for we thrive on our own merits. Survive, and prosper." She glanced over at Sar'ksasa, "After all, I am sure you would agree that the truly strong can take pride in their own greatness." With that, she stepped back. Allowing for the next batch of Dragons to try and come up to introduce themselves. It seemed the young clan leader was just getting started with meeting the Dragons of Heord.
-
The Great Dragon glared down at Myrsa for a moment longer, before holding up one of his ceremonial gauntlets and closing his eyes. Suddenly, markings across the piece of armor began to light up with magical energy, coursing through up to the tips of his claws. Old runs glowed, and in the palm of his paw appeared a great orb of magical power. For a moment, it looked like an attack. And then the orb began to solidify, turning into a stone. And marked upon that stone was a set of runes, most prominent of all were the largest, which read in old Draconic: "Katak'sar". The other smaller runes read a few of the other things Myrsa said, such as the number of Grand Drakes they supposedly had in their lineage, and "Wrath, Wisdom, and Fiery Justice". Once it was magically completed, the old Dragon held it up to inspect, grunting before quickly speaking, "That will do, for now."
He then glared down at Myrsa further, "With my duty done, you stand before Uzkiramos Menfiraiax, young Valak, and I am lord of this village. More importantly, I am the Claw of Law of Heord. And on that..." Uzkiramos suddenly leaned forward and glared hard at Myrsa, suddenly getting louder and taking on the tone of a parent scolding a child, "Show that position respect, youngling! Be you royal or poor, mountain or cave, young or old, all who stand before the Claw of Law ought to show the due respect instead of demanding names and preaching about softskin lies! When you speak of the fire's justice, I am Fire's Justice! If you ever need a reminder, you may glance up and look at my courthouse, and see the flames burn with the light of a law that is older than any softskin species alive! Honor your clan by ceasing complaints when obeying a tradition as old as Grumpy himself. Do not shame your legacy, and honor the Claw when he carries out his duties! Am I understood, young Miraak'sana!?" He then poked Myrsa right on the head with one of his claws, his old age seemingly disappearing as he took on the visage of a mighty drill instructor.
Again Tarral stepped in, tapping her father to get him to snap out of that, "I believe she understands, father. You weren't exactly clear about doing this as part of your duties either. And she's been through a lot, so perhaps we can step inside?" She turned to Myrsa, "My father can be a bit serious in how he approaches his duties, apologies. A bit overly intensive, he's done it to many others before. I expect that he should try and control himself more around a guest?" She gave her father a sharp glance.
Suddenly, with his daughter's intercession, the old Dragon's demeanor shifted entirely again. Uzkiramos stepped back and chuckled, "I suppose I get get a bit overboard, didn't I? Very well, I am calm now, little claw. And as for you outworlder, you did better than many. I got much of what I needed to create your clan's rune stone, so I can put it with the others. Saved me the trouble of doing that later! Now allow me to show some town hospitality, let's go inside!" With that, now jolly and pleasant, he hummed and went to open the door. Then he seemed to remember something, and looked back at Myrsa, "Ah, right, one more thing Miraak'sana. You forgot to tell me if your clan was of the Caves, Mountains, Villages, or Islands! I need to fill that in too, for the sake of preserving the history."
Taurgha
Taurgha
Sar'ksasa was evidently annoyed by Ezron's initial remarks, however she did not talk back as many where watching and it would be rather improper. Especially as the various drakes appeared greeting her. She would feign a polite smile at Gyornsar, though the old dragon did not seem to be of much interest to her "I am most pleased and honored to be in the gracious hospitality of Clan Therkiza and will make sure that my clan-members remember the great mountain clan that greeted us first in their nest ..other than the Grand Drake himself and Clan Granion of course. Ymira, show courtesy to sa'ar Gyorn'sar" Ymira made a cute little bow with with her head "Thank you most gracious host Gyorn'sar!" She turned to her mother right away "two" Sar'ksasa whispered back "What two?" the little one smirked "Plastic ponies" ...the young mother seemed enraged but had to smile at the next acquaintance.
This one was obviously far less of a serious mountain than the host, but he seemed loyal to Tyfrondor and a useful ally. Sar'ksasa quickly smiled and nodded pointing at Kothex's scars that he so obviously wanted to talk about "Ah, greetings Kothex of clan Achjaris ..impressive scars!" It was quite clear by some of the most cunning dragons in the room that she really did not care about the scars and was merely smiling out of politeness, nevertheless she let out a fake chuckle "Ahaha, yes it is always good to know the strength of your allies and I am sure we will remember you if we need your might. We after all are but a clan of lonely females, though noble and with good judgement ..and I have to say that my judgement is that you are a loyal and strong dragon and likewise your clan must be as well! I hope I guessed correctly ...my ancient namesake Sar'ksasa the First was said to have the gift of clearsight after all! It will be my pleasure to serve next to you as equal in difference clans beneath his greatness" Ymira without her mother saying anything bowed her head again "very loyal and strong indeed" she said then turned back to her mother again "three ponies" causing Sar'ksasa to roll her eyes and pull Ymira back from her tail.
Sar'ksasa's polite fake smile soon turned to a genuine irritating smirk and intrigued raised eyebrow as Ezron's mother, a fellow redscale and cave matriarch appeared. She did not take her insults at heart, she almost felt flattered. She stood there watching as the two Shadtais argued infront of everyone. She remained a bit silent as both awaited her response to make sure everyone's attention had peaked, then she sighed "Lady Krezena, I find that unity in the face of adversion is the greatest allegiance a dragon truly loyal to their species can present themselves with. We Katak'sars do not hold any hatred towards anyone, but there is a reason why the ones who fought us and divided Saherod's dragonkind exist no more, while we stand here after millenia; It is after all better to solve internal disputes within one's own nest, instead of when surrounded by enemies if you wish your kin to thrive ...though as I can see, this is a concept that some dragons have yet to grasp." Ymira was mechanically about to bow again for a forth pony, but Sar'ksasa stopped her from doing so and kept smirking at Krezena.
-
Myrsa stood still as the mighty claw of law, Uzkiramos, scolded her. She had not faced such a scolding ever since Lashox caught her sneaking in the old Datha caves. Despite all she did not lower her voice or even lowered her head, she just looked at Uzkiramos directly "Yes sa'ar! I am sorry for disrespecting you, it was not my intention, sa'ar! My clan Katak'sar believes in holding true to what we believe always deep in our heart ..I just sometimes forget that not everyone needs to hear our heart all the time out loud, sa'ar. Our Clan is of the glorious Caves of Gar'draak and we are redscales, currently suffering under a scale condition that makes us this peculiar pink color, sa'ar. We also have many other beautiful caves in Saherod that one day we will inhabit again, as is rightful. ...Also your most magnificent daughter Tarral is correct, sa'ar, I misunderstood your duties, but all is understood now! I probably should stop talking at some point sa'ar... I ..ehm, yes let's go inside" She finally seemed a bit humbled, though it was obviously more due to her awkward rant rather than the scolding. As they walked towards the entrance she turned towards Uzkiramos "Any bad dragons today worth of being judged, sa'ar?"
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