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Post by xaen on Oct 29, 2011 1:11:36 GMT 1
He watched the sun rise on the distant horizon as the chill morning air caused Goosebumps to rise on his weathered skin. Vlan’Tur hardly slept a wink the night before because of his personnel excitement and his own concern for the ill Duke’s well being. In preparation for the mission ahead of him and Cam Rue, Vlan’Tur had spent the dark early morning hours packing enough food and water for the two day trip on foot; since no horses were taken from the city during their flight. He sat stock still feet folded comfortably under his legs next to the packs of supplies on the crest of a hill not far from the edge of the encampment, silently gazing out at the rolling of fields of lush green grass that sparkled with droplets of dew. The desert palm wood crossbow rested idly across his lap, Vlan’Tur gently greased the firing mechanisms on the crossbow with a cloth rag and restringing it. His staff lay horizontally in front of him on the ground freshly polished and cleaned, forgotten by its owner for the time being. An hour past before Cam quietly approached him from behind and Vlan’Tur didn’t need to see him to know that Cam was standing behind him and off to the right. “Are you prepared to travel to Xaxistics’ camp? It will be a two day trip from here to there and back,” Vlan’Tur asked politely not looking up from his work on his crossbow.
The Shadowlord may have disappeared from the line of sight of his servants, but he didn’t leave the warehouse. From up in the rafters the Shadowlord casually cast a mind-reading spell the gauge the effects of his words on his minions. Kenras, Isabelle, and Kheldar were all equally terrified from his unannounced visit and almost gently reassurance that he was pleased with their efforts in Erumara. The Master’s thoughts though made him mentally chuckle because the Head of the Society of Assassins understandably mistook him for their deity, Kassislek. Satisfied with the results of his message the Shadowlord made his spell dissipate and skillfully teleported away to a small clearing near the Vorshtaran camp, and once his transformation was complete he easily reentered their ranks.
Isabelle was stupefied when the Shadowlord singled her out with that ominous statement that inferred that the god she rarely properly homage to spared her life. An awkward silence descended upon the shoulders of the assembled leaders and lasted for a full quarter hour before Isabelle broke the quiet with an attention grabbing cough. “Since we have been tasked by Kassislek’s divine messenger to eradicate the remaining rabble that Cyrteris has abandoned or if chance should have it, died from his battle wounds. Then I suggest that we send out a small force collectively lead by our third best lackeys,” The echoing sound of her voice in the warehouse unnerved her, especially when the others only agreed by silently nodding in the candlelight. Another quarter hour of silence dragged by before they concluded the end of their meeting, and retired to their private lodgings for the rest of the evening.
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Post by Culmir on Nov 18, 2011 23:06:24 GMT 1
The Master for the first time in his life hated the silence that fell over him and his companions during their first encounter with the mysterious visitor. Judging from the reactions of his fellow Shadowcloaks did the master of assassins discern that they did not think that they had been graced with the pleasure of their deity in the flesh. This small bit of information gave The Master a small pang of discomfort, he wasn’t sure why but if it wasn’t their deity that had visited them then who was it? And how far did his powers extend? What was his purpose? Why hadn’t any of his many spies and informers told him anything about this? Surely one of them would of noticed? Was his net of intelligence failing? For the remainder of the meeting the master was making a mental list of things to do and check when he got to work the next day, he was glad when they parted without further ado
Upon hearing that he had been bestowed with a special mission Cam set out with his sister to find the gear that he might need, and also to make sure that his erratic twin wasn’t going to pack anything that he didn’t need at all. He had to argue with her several times to dissuade her from adding irrelevant things like a cooking pot and utensils, Cam didn’t really believe that he’d make much use of a knife and wooden carved fork, if they ate along their journey Cam suspected it would be finger food. What Cam didn’t hinder his sister on was her insistence on adding a second water bag to the 1 he already had packed as well as adding a sturdy blanket because neither of them knew how cold the nights would become closer to the mountains. When they seemed ready Cam set the backpack beside his sleeping area for that night so that it would be easy to find in the morning when he would set out, also to make sure his sister wouldn’t try to sneak into it in the middle of the night to try and sneak in some more supplies. That night Cam hardly slept, thoughts kept milling around in his head, fear of what might happen on their journey gripped his heart and squeezed it tightly, also worry for his twin who he had to leave behind for the first time in his life made it harder on the young man. He tossed and turned as night progressed until finally the first rays of dawn crested the horizon and Cam almost felt relieved he no longer had to suffer through this sleepless state. Cam glanced over to his sister who lay a few feet away, curled up under her blanket, still blissfully asleep, making as little noise as possible Cam retrieved the pack and walked up the small slope of hill on which he knew Vlan’Tur was resting. He approached the large plainsman from behind, just as he opened his mouth to announce his presence Vlan’Tur spoke, startling Cam who stuttered his reply “I..I, yes I’m ready”
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Post by xaen on Jan 11, 2012 1:53:11 GMT 1
“Good, follow me,” Vlan’Tur intoned as he rose from his cross-legged position and quietly glided down the slope of the slight hill that he had been resting on. At the base of the hill where the Vorshtaran warrior halted his momentum was a pile of three water bags and two travel sacks: one filled with food provisions and the other crossbow bolts, and other necessities. Scooping up the supplies and slinging them over his shoulder as he went, Vlan’Tur moved at a brisk pace with crossbow in one hand and staff in the other. Without a word between them, the determined pair marched off south away from the refugee camp before the sun’s light could even burn away the morning dew on the grass. A hurried silence prevailed over the pair of travelers as they stoically strode across the vast fields and hills of lush green grass that surrounded the thriving city of Revenald, which was a black blob on distant eastern horizon. Cam didn’t seem too inclined to discussion, so Vlan’Tur used the noiseless passage from the camp to the Ildera Forest to think. Personally he couldn’t believe himself, since less than a week ago he despised the Erumaran people to no end because he blamed them as a whole for the death of his father. The events of the past few days had drastically changed his opinion of the Erumarans, and he no longer blamed them all for the death of his father; now he blamed only one, Rasvin Tresme. The thought of revenge against the murderous traitor burned like coal in the pit of Vlan’Tur’s stomach, filling him with a seemingly inextinguishable stamina that unconsciously caused him to quicken his pace, forcing Cam to jog to keep pace. And for the first time since meeting the shaman Xaxistics, Vlan’Tur began to question the doctrine that shaman was preaching to himself and his people that seemed to turn his once peaceful tribe bloodthirsty. Vlan’Tur had found it odd how the shaman frantically demanded that the tribe cleanse themselves by drinking the water libation he had offered after preaching unity against a common foe. The strangest part was how relaxed Xaxistics became after a large multitude of the tribes’ members had sipped from the goblet, Vlan’Tur thought the libation like the rest of the tribes that it was insulting to their druidic way of life and did not sip from the goblet. Then within a few hours, Xaxistics was calling for war against the Erumarans and everyone that had partook in his strange ritual, with the exception of Vlan’Tur, readily agreed. Soon they were off to war and over the course of a week here he was, racing across a vibrant field towards the camp of his people with the hopes of saving an Erumaran duke from a deadly poison that was native to the Vorshtaran homeland. Vlan’Tur shook away his train of thought just in the nick of time, which managed to keep him from walking firmly into a tree. The sun was beginning to set from the look of the growing shadows on the ground, and judging from the tree they had reached the goal, Ildera Forest. “We’ve arrived at the forest edge, just north of the encampment,” Vlan’Tur said rather stupidly since Cam was no doubt aware of their current location. “We’ll stop here and eat,” Vlan’Tur told his travelling companion as he set down his weapons and supplies against the tree he barely avoided meeting face first. After a few dozen minutes of shifting and shuffling the pair were munching greedily on bread and cold vegetables as they waited for their salted venison to cook over the fire they had lit. After gulping down another mouth full of carrot Vlan’Tur rather sheepishly mumbled, “I apologize for not stopping for lunch or any other times that you required a break, I don’t know what came over me.” Vlan’Tur knew that he had repeatedly ignored Cam every time he had requested that they stop and eat or rest for a moment, and he felt guilty for forcing the Reven Raven to follow his incredibly intense pace. But before Cam could say anything the gentle snap of a twig somewhere in the near by brush line startled the pair, and both dove for their discarded weapons. Standing back to back their eyes warily combed the shadowed tree line in search of the sounds source. The source didn’t waste time stumbling out of the black of night to fall facedown in front of the pair of travelers, it was a Vorshtaran. Cautiously Vlan’Tur poked the prone fellow with the butt of his staff and when the stranger simply groaned in response, he and Cam lowered their weapons and moved to assist the wounded Vorshtaran. “What happened to you?!?!” Vlan’Tur gasped upon seeing dozens of horrible black bruises all over the stranger’s bare chest. With perfect care Vlan’Tur and Cam dragged the injured man towards the nearest tree and promptly leaned him against it in an upright position. Cam hastily grabbed one of the water bags and sprayed the unconscious fellow with its contents with the hopes of stirring him from his slumber. Purplish swollen eyelids fluttered open and the sound of his raspy breathing increased in volume as the man slowly returned to consciousness.
“Vlan’Tur? Is that you?” The Vorshtaran mumbled through bloodied lips that he slowly licked to moisten them, and groaning softly as he gingerly adjusted his lean against the tree.
“Yes, Nallym. It is me, what happened to you?” Vlan’Tur answered after a moment of careful studying the form in front of him, and managed to find a hint of recognition that made him remember the stocky young man of sixteen.
“I…uh..ah..I…” Nallym viciously coughed and wheezed before finishing and beckoned for a drink, which Cam swiftly provided by tipping the spout of the water bag into the incredibly weak teenager’s mouth. Finishing his quick drink Nallym continued, “I..I..woke up this morning dazed and confused in this foreign…..” “Place,” Nallym drew out the word as his swollen eyes wandered along the tree line and out over the rolling plains from whence Cam and Vlan’Tur came.
“You mean to say that you are unaware of where you are?” Vlan’Tur demanded terribly shocked by the boy’s admittance, Nallym nodded slowly as his fearful eyes locked onto Vlan’Tur’s own. An eerie silence descended upon the trio, Vlan’Tur’s mind was so busy reeling over the possible meaning of this disturbing information that he almost missed what Cam had asked Nallym.
Isabelle paced back and forth in front of the northern gate as she waited for the four lieutenants that Kenras had chosen for the task of eradicating the remaining Peacekeeper forces out near the Adbyrron forest, with the help of Marvic’s mercenaries of course and a small contingent of their fellow shadowcloaks. Not far from where she circled like a furious hawk after an elusive mouse, five hundred of Marvic’s hired swords stood at attention with Rasvin Tresme as their leader. Isabelle found the scrawny bird-nosed beady eyed man repulsive beyond all reason, especially when he directed that disgusting leering expression her way. She soon decided to imagine blasting, burning, or disintegrating the impudent creature with her magic, but didn’t get to mentally explore the possible fun for terribly long before the click-clack of booted feet heading towards her pulled her attention to the lieutenants. At the front of the Shadowcloak contingent confidently strode the elven magae Tormic Telleaf dressed in his atrocious red and yellow robe, and on his immediate right sauntered the knight Melsea Storn covered head to toe in her black full plate armour. On Tormic’s far right Helgson Hailden calmly followed light-footed as ever in his black leather assassin armour, and on Tormic’s left dressed in a red low cut robe with a matching suit of black chain mail beneath it came Selindra Firefang. Isabelle hated all four of them though she despised Tormic the least of the four, only because he was a pure blooded elf just like herself. The four of them and the contingent came to a halt in front of Archmage Isabelle, and quietly waited for her commands. “You four shall march twenty-five miles north of here and finish off the Peacekeeper stragglers that have set up camp near a river that flows out of the Adbyrron forest, TAKE NO PRISONERS,” She growled at the four lieutenants before her and each saluted her as she finished her sentence to acknowledge the command. “I hope you four understand that this is easily a day’s walking distance from here, BUT you must move as a full unit and you do not want to arrive to tired to fight,” Isabelle grilled each lieutenant with a glare of contempt as she paced in front of their faces, “Therefore I suggest you travel at a slow pace, granted you will barely cover eighteen miles in that time, but then you will be within walking distance of your prey the following morning.” Even though she was dictating rudimentary strategies the lieutenants knew better than to speak out against the Archmage, and so they saluted once more before Isabelle moved out of their way. Isabelle watched as Rasvin and his mercenaries followed close behind Shadowcloak contingent, and once the last of the soldiers were out of earshot she released a brief scream of frustration. Kenras hadn’t left his personal shrine of Kassislek in the Ducal Palace since the night before when Kassislek’s messenger appeared to the Shadowcloak Headmasters, all he was reportedly doing was endlessly praying to the Supreme Tyrant and he would do so for the rest of the week. Leaving Isabelle in charge of orchestrating the collective actions of the entire guild, plus the normal day to day management of her own branch of the guild, the Duskweavers. Gnashing her teeth together as she went, Isabelle headed back towards the Ducal Palace where yet another menial task no doubt awaited her attention.
Cyrteris felt absolutely terrible and he had no recollection as to how he ended up on a cot surrounded by all of the healers that had escaped Revenald with himself and the other peacekeepers. The sunlight burned his bloodshot eyes and he was sweating profusely, and when he tried to speak all that came out was a harsh rasp in his dry throat. One of the healers rushed over at the sound, the man practically was jumping up and down with over-ecstatic joy as he watched Cyrteris’ eyes slowly and painfully flutter open.
“It works! That concoction the Vorshtaran gave us worked!” The man stammered excited causing the rest of the healers to rush over to the Duke’s cot clucking like a bunch of hens.
“Water,” Cyrteris croaked at them over his parched tongue, he had to repeat the request four times before the hens stopped chirping at each and retrieved a small glass of crisp cool water. “Where is Ivan?” The Duke demanded weakly as he tried to use his arms to force himself upright, but the strength of his powerful arms had seemingly disappeared and he flopped softly back into his cot.
“Please don’t move to much my lord for you have been poisoned, and you need relax least you fall unconscious again,” One of the healers gravely informed the Duke, “But I shall send someone to collect Ivan from whatever task he’s currently busy with.”
“Thank you,” Cyrteris rasped as the band of ecstatic slowly dissipated still chatting excitedly over this new medication given to them by Vlan’Tur, but before all of them could scurry off Cyrteris feebly grabbed hold of that healer’s arm. The man gave him a concerned look and slowly turned so that he fully face the Duke once again. “Could you please tell Clover and Cam that I’m wake, I wish to speak to them as well,” Cyrteris begged in a pained voice and the healer turned to leave, but Cyrteris did not let go stopping the man from leaving. “What time is it?” Cyrteris mumbled to the solemn looking healer who was wearing an emotionless frown and the garb of a healer priest of Vallysar.
“An hour past noon,” The healer priest informed him as Cyrteris’ arm fell gentle back into the cot, its mission complete and off went that healer leaving the Duke to wait alone.
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Post by Culmir on Jan 29, 2012 16:37:35 GMT 1
Cam hoisted his pack further onto his shoulders as he set off behind the large plainsman, going down the hill they had been standing on was easy going, the weight of the pack and gravity propelling the pair forward swiftly. They stopped at the bottom of the hill as Vlan’Tur gathered his things, Cam found a moment to look around him, this was going to be his first time away from his twin for a long period of time and though the thought was somewhat liberating he also felt a pang of worry for his twin, would he still be able to sense something amiss with her over the distance they were about to travel? He had always been instinctive about Clover and he hoped that the connection wouldn’t be severed by distance. When Vlan’Tur readied himself they took off, both heavy hearted so it would seem with the task that lay ahead. Frequently Cam had to make a short little sprint to keep up with the plainsman heavy set pace, the taller man took longer strides than Cam and appeared to be used to maintaining this pace for a long period of time. Cam found not a moments rest as he had to be sure of his footing, the sliding of the slightest rock beneath his sore feet would be enough to send him tumbling down many a hill they climbed. His breathing became labored and soon he was panting, sweat drops glistening on his brow and dampening his clothes in large blots where it clung to his body. He spared a short glance to Fort Revenald, the city lay dark and looming on the fields, still some black smoke rose from several parts of the city and Cam found he couldn’t stare long at it, lest terror grip his heart, how he had hoped that the place would become his home, now that hope seemed, for the moment, lost. Cam drank more water than he would of liked, but the sight of many small streams slithering like pearlescent snakes through the nearby landscape convinced him he would not be without water so he indulged in the cool refreshment when he felt the need, he reasoned to himself that he also had to drink it, to replace the fluids he lost through perspiration, it would not do to keel over halfway merely to conserve water when he could refill his water bags nearby. Many a time Cam had to jog to keep up with Vlan’Turs heavy set pace, his lungs begun to ache and a persistent throb in his side nagged at him with every brisk step he took, he found no air left in his lungs to speak up. They maintained this pace for the remainder of the day and when the sun set Cam was broken, his feet dragging in the grass as he forced himself forward by sheer will, telling himself over and over that it was his duty to his new liege lord. It was with some relief that Cam beheld the Ildera forest as it loomed up before them, he was somewhat stupefied that Vlan’Tur barely managed to escape a confrontation with a tree lining the edge of the forest, Cam attributed it to being tired as well as he sank down onto the grass beneath a large tree. Cams sigh of relief was loud and long as he rested his feet propped up on a large boulder just within his reach as he ransacked his backpack for the packed rations his sister had set out for him, he was somewhat surprised to see that his sister had after all managed to stuff extras into his pack but he loved her all the more for it as he sank his teeth in a luscious green apple while their meats were warmed over a cozy little campfire Vlan’Tur set up. Just having stuffed a rather large bite of a turnip into his mouth Cam chewed hastily as he heard Vlan’Turs mumbled apology for the heavy pace, swallowing his mouthful Cam was about to reply when a crack pierced the otherwise silent dusk around them. Cams hand grasped the hilt of his sword easily as he rolled onto his knees, standing up rapidly, back to back with Vlan’Tur who grabbed his staff in lightning speed, Cams grey eyes trying to pierce the gloom that was slowly settling onto the lands. It came as a shock when a stranger came stumbling out of the forest and landed with a dull thud in front of their feet, Cam kept his vigil momentarily as he watched Vlan’Tur prod the person, who groaned in response. Frowning Cam sheathed his sword and squatted beside the man, rolling him onto his back exposing several large bruises littered liberally on the mans body. Carefully Vlan’Tur and Cam pulled the man towards a nearby tree, propping him up against the bark as Cam retreated back to their flames to grab an extra water bag, splashing some of the water onto the mans face they tried to rouse him. Cam sat back stumped when the plainsman seemed to recognise Vlan’Tur, he sat in silence as he listened to the two of them converse, when Nallym began to cough Cam provided him with the water bag, holding it for him as the youthful Vorshtaran drank clumsily. The frown that had formed on Cams forehead deepened as he listened to the Vorshtarans explanation “What’s the last thing you remember before you woke up?” he asked gently.
The Master of assassins was busy, not just a little busy, but a lot busy, it annoyed him that Kenras was shirking his duties, from what he had been told by his many spies the leader of the Shadowpriest spend most of his days locked in the small enclosed space reserved for his deity, praying as it would seem. This placed a lot of other duties on the rest of them and the master of assassins had developed a small but persistent pain in his writing hand from many a days spend writing out his messages and orders, orders that would otherwise be set forth by Kenras. If the Shadowpriest wouldn’t man up soon The Master swore he would see to it that the man be flayed to within an inch of his life, surely he understood the importance of this mission, surely their lord would forgive them for neglecting to pray devoutly to him as was commanded. Kassilek was a cruel lord yes, but not unforgiving when it served his cause, massaging his cramped hand The Master sighed before resuming his many writing duties.
When Clover woke her brother had left, it made her feel woefully alone and she found herself looking anxiously towards the horizon on more than one occasion. She tried to make herself useful all around the camp, she helped gather wood for the many fires that were spread around the camp, she helped gather some of the edible plants, being able to recognise them from when she and Cam hadn’t anything else to eat but what they could scavenge. Thinking of those moments Clover felt the tears well up in her eyes, she missed her twin brother more than she was willing to admit, she wondered frequently if he was okay and if he would be angry with her for the slipped in extras she put into his pack. Determined to keep herself busy Clover set up traps and checked the ones that had been set up before, coming back with a pair of fat jackrabbits that had been snared. She dropped it off at Poledras cooking place, the matron chef had seemed delighted by her catch and promised to make it something nice to eat, rather than the stale mushroom stew that she had served as breakfast. Every minute or so Clovers attention would wander and she found herself staring off at the distance she knew her brother had wandered off with Vlan’Tur, worry gripping her heart more tightly on every such occasion. Clover helped a family of 4 set up a more secure tent, apparently during the night their hastily constructed tent had collapsed onto them and almost suffocated the lot of them, she was explaining the basics of setting up a tent when a man scurried out of Cyrteris’s tent. She frowned as she stared after the man watching him reach Ivan who was busily conversing with many of the peacekeepers that were in charge of guarding the camp during the night hours, from what it looked like he was berating them heavily, probably because one of them fell asleep during the watch. The redheaded Reven Raven excused herself from the family who were staring at her confusedly, her feet beginning to lead towards Ivan so she could hear what was going on when another man emerged from the tent Cyrteris lay in, he spotted her immediately and waved her over. The mans expression was too joyous to be one of bad news but still she approached him wearily “Yes?” she spoke curtly.
“The Duke is awake, he requests your and your brothers presence immediately” the healer spoke crisply before ducking into an adjacent tent, most likely to collect some more of the medicine Vlan’Tur had provided for them.
Clover stood stunned momentarily before a wide grin spread on her face, ducking into the tent Cyrteris lay in she strode over to the cot he lay on, pleasantly surprised to actually see his eyes open and his mouth blessedly clear of the froth that had been seeping from the corners hours before. “Cyrteris” she breathed as she sank down on her knees beside the cot, her grey eyes not leaving his face as she reached for the bowl of water beside his cot as she had many a night before until they sent her away forcefully, she was used to the motion as she dipped a piece of cloth in the water and dabbed at his pale face “You look horrible“ she smiled.
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Post by Culmir on Dec 11, 2012 13:31:27 GMT 1
Changed the storyline name to Usurpation
recap of the storyline provided by Xaen.
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Date: Anarya 10th – Lotesse 23rd, 5000SR
Locations: The Great Northern Plains, Asendil (formally Fort Revenald), Luthien’s Rest, Ivan’s Respite, Adbyrron Forest, Ildera Forest, Eagle Peaks, and the Vorshtar Plains.
Important Characters: Reven Ravens’ Cam & Clover Rue, Archmage Isabelle Silverstream, Poledra (NPC),Raven Master Ivan Blazewind, Vlan’Tur, Duke Cyteris Mraen & Lord Marvic Mraen, General Luthien Tedronnis (NPC)(Deceased), Grand Savant Kenras Savrantas, The Master, Kheldar Mal’Zeth, Lady Saria Moonflower (NPC), Venorik Arisa, Lord Rasvin Tresme (NPC), Cassislen Culpurt (NPC)(Deceased), Melissa Thekwis (NPC)(Deceased), Kylek Jymer (NPC)(Deceased), Xaxistics (NPC)(Deceased), Galsious Harven (NPC), Nallym (NPC)(Left), The Shadowlord.
Plot: Jealous of his brother, and a thirst for power led Marvic Mraen to meet with the Grand Savant of Kassislek, Kenras Savrantas, who had disguised and hid his true identity to trick Marvic into starting a rebellion. Kenras made a deal with The Master of the Society of Assassins to mutually conquer Fort Revenald, in order to gain the assistance of assassins instead of their hostility. Marvic convinced Rasvin Tresme, a councillor, to join with him and the three mercenary leaders, Kylek Jymer, Melissa Thekwis, Cassislen Culpurt. Over the same twenty days, Cam & Clover Rue were hand-picked by Cyrteris Mraen to be the newest members of the Reven Ravens, a band that lost nearly all its strength, and started their training under the ranger-hero Ivan Blazewind. A few days before the rebellion, Vlan’Tur, the Vorshtaran ambassador, arrived and brought news of possible war between the Vorshtarans & the Erumarans. Unknown to Vlan’Tur, his people were being controlled by a chemical the shaman Xaxistics put in their water supply, and Kenras had given Xaxistics the chemical; the Vorshtarans were Kenras’ backup plan should his plan fail. The day before the rebellion, Cam & Clover were tasked with investigating a recently believed to be abandoned warehouse that had seen substantial traffic over the past week, and spotted Marvic inside; but unaware of the twin’s existence, they assumed that it was Cyrteris. Ivan soon confirmed that it was not Cyrteris, but was still unaware of Marvic’s presence. The following day, Marvic led his rebellion against Cyrteris’ Peacekeepers, both sides suffered heavy losses, and then the Shadowknights joined the fight. Luthien Tedronnis was slain by The Master, while Cassislen Culpurt was killed by the Rue twins. As the sunset, Duke Cyrteris & his allies were forced to flee the city with whatever Peacekeepers and Loyalists remained. The mysterious Shadowlord, Kassislek`s unholy messenger, appeared that night to Shadowknights’ leaders and bestowed Kassislek`s blessings upon them. The Shadowlord killed Melissa Thekwis when he discovered that she had tailed Kenras & Isabelle to the secret meeting. During the same night, the Shadowlord snuck off to Cyrteris` encampment and poisoned Cyrteris` personal food in a fashion that would cause the blame to fall on Vlan`Tur, for it was a Vorshtaran poison. The next day when Cyrteris succumbed to the poison, Vlan`Tur quickly diagnosed the ailment and produced an anti-venom that would slow the effects until a cure could be found. To find the cure, Vlan`Tur & Cam left to find the Vorshtaran encampment. Near the Ildera Forest they stumbled upon young Nallym, who spun a confusing tale that pointed to some form of mind control. Vlan`Tur confronted Xaxistics about it, and challenged Xaxistics to a fight for the tribes loyalty as Vorshtaran law allows. Vlan`Tur won and collected the medication for Cyrteris, meanwhile Isabelle organized a force to eradicate Cyrteris and his loyalists. With Cyrteris incapacitated, Ivan and Clover organized the defence of the camp and succeeded, killing Kylek Jymer & the Shadowknight/mercenary force. Cam & Vlan’Tur returned the following day and revived Cyrteris, and once he was back on his feet Cyrteris organized the construction of a palisade fort where the camp occupied. The Vorshtarans freed from Xaxistics’ mind control returned peacefully to the Vorshtar Plains, Vlan’Tur stayed though to help Duke Mraen. Marvic, now King of his new city, Asendil, discovers that he is the Shadowknights’ pawn & his only ally is Rasvin Tresme. Kenras has disappeared with the Shadowlord, and hasn’t been seen since. Cyrteris plans to retake the city, but lacks the manpower, and so patiently bides his time, while Cam & Clover train under Ivan’s watchful old gaze. Isabelle, The Master, and Kheldar are working to secure their hold over the city, while Marvic secretly plans with Rasvin to take control for themselves.
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Post by xaen on Dec 11, 2012 14:39:47 GMT 1
Ivan Blazewind impatiently paced the new ramparts of the recently constructed palisade fortress that bore his name, Ivan’s Respite, an honor bestowed by the young Duke Cyrteris Mraen. His impatience was born from worry caused by the tardiness of the Rue twins, Cam and Clover. Ivan hadn’t known them for long, but he quickly came to worrying over them like they were his own children. He being an old man with no surviving family, it wasn’t wrong of him to think of them as his adopted children was it? Ivan thought long and hard about that question while he paced and as time went by his anxiety slowly grew. Eventually Ivan could to take no more and he snapped at the night air, “Where in Ssthis’Thor’s fiery realms are those kids!?!”
“Easy old lion. Give the younglings sometime the night is not yet as old as you are,” A gentle old voice cooed from behind Ivan, making the professional spy nearly leap out of his old boots.
Sputtering like a fool, Ivan attempted to regain some composure and his dignity in front of the little old lady that had snuck up behind him. But she chuckled in a disarming manner that stole all of Ivan’s remaining bluster.
“I for that manner am not that young either, truth be told,” Poledra chuckled as she moved beside Ivan, she was shorter than he and from a first glance they appeared to be the same age; though in fact she was two years his senior.
“Poledra! You old witch, you scared me so bad I thought my soul was halfway to the afterlife!” Ivan huffed in mock anger at the Palisade’s head cook. He offered his arm to her, she promptly took it, and then they began to walk the length of the palisade wall together arm in arm, idly chatting about their day. The walls were vacant as per Ivan’s order, only the towers had guards in them, so his meeting with the Rue twins would be private and now his friendly walk with Poledra was too. Since it would do no good to his reputation as the big quiet tough guy, if someone saw him being sweet on the old cook. They chattered and laughed together as they walked a slow circuit of the palisade together, and the night slowly grew old with them. When they reached their starting point it was almost early morn, and Ivan believed it was time to part ways. “Poledra my dear, I believe that it is time that we depart for the evening. For you will undoubtedly need the sleep to get the kitchen in order tomorrow, and I must still await the return of the younglings,” Ivan whispered to her softly, holding her small soft hands in his large gruff mitts, she chuckled and swooped in for a friendly peck on his old grizzled cheek. He flinched away from the contact like a five year old boy getting kissed by an icky girl, which made Poledra chuckle once again as she turned away and headed towards her personnel quarters. The amused sound of someone clearing their throat suddenly resounded from behind Ivan making him grunt in embarrassment when he turned around.
While Ivan was spending time with Poledra, Duke Cyrteris Mraen, Vlan’Tur, and Lady Saria Moonflower were arguing with Representative Baltev Colmane sent from Galvin’s Port in the stead of Duchess Kareena Helmaster. They were trying to negotiate reinforcements from the port city far to the east of Luthien’s Rest, where they were currently debating the matter. Baltev refused to budge on the matter; he had firmly planted himself against such a notion for he didn’t want to entangle his fellow people in a war that was “not his problem”. “IT IS YOUR PROBLEM YOU DOLT!” Vlan’Tur roared right after Baltev reiterated his steady opinion on the matter for the eleventh time that night.
“IN WHAT WAY MASTER VLAN’TUR! THE MATTERS OF FORT REVENALD ARE FOR ITS DUKE TO RESOLVE AND NOT THE RESPONSIBLITIY OF MY DUCHESS!” Representative Colmane shouted back in a matching volume to the towering Vorshtaran man. He was going to scream out some other remark but bit his tongue when he noticed the icy glare from Lady Moonflower, and instead cleared his throat in a humbling manner, “I am seriously sorry Master Vlan’Tur, but please understand that I am simple not willing to risk the lives of my people to join a conflict that I do not believe involves the people of Galvin’s Port.”
“If that is your opinion, as you have made horribly apparent all night, I believe we are done here,” An exhausted Cyrteris firmly stated as he brought his gavel down on the small table to signal the end of the conference, all the scribes in attendance slowly rose and gathered the records of the meeting and made for the door, leaving the four discussers alone in the room.
“Honestly, I am sorry that we will not provide soldiers. But we are more than willing to provide you with whatever supplies you need,” Representative Baltev remarked as he stopped his warpath for the door next to the seated Duke, they quickly shook hands.
“Thank you, Good sir Baltev,” Cyrteris replied as he ended the appropriate handshake and then Baltev was gone, and the door shut behind him.
“That man is a cowardly fool,” Vlan’Tur grumbled angrily from his seat across from Saria, with Cyrteris at the head of the table which was opposite Baltev.
“That might be the case, but he reasons are just. In order for us to take back Fort Revenald we would be risking the innocent lives of the volunteers they send us,” Lady Moonflower said in a soothing tone trying to calm the fiery Vorshtaran.
“Yet that is not our purpose here! That idiot is presuming that is our immediate goal instead of simply fortifying the frontline that protects his precious city from the threat of King Marvic and his vile allies!” Vlan’Tur spat back refusing to let his anger abate before he got his say in the matter.
“Vlan’Tur please. We must accept that we are on our own until the Lord Vyse restores order in the Kingdoms capitol, be patient my friend,” Duke Cyrteris said softly as he stared blankly at the tables smooth surface, with his head cradled between his hands as he spoke. He was beyond tired now after that six hour long discussion with Baltev that proved absolutely fruitless in the end, how he longed to collapse into in bunk. But there were other duties to deal with. “If you two would please excuse me I have other important matters to attend to,” He yawned politely as he opened the door for the pair of trusted confidants. Saria wished him a pleasant night as she left, and Vlan’Tur clasped hands in a firm respectful handshake before leaving. “Officer Devis please escort Commander Velten, Captain Calis, and Captain Ferden into my office please,” Cyrteris said to the young officer posted outside the conference room door the officer saluted and then rushed off down the hallway to find the indicated peacekeepers. He returned later with two young ladies and a gentleman that appeared ten years Cyteris’ senior, all three saluted Cyrteris as they entered the room and Officer Devis closed the door behind him when he left. Cyrteris stared quietly at the four plain wood walls of the small conference room that could fit no more than ten comfortably. The gentleman, Commander Velten, gentle cleared his throat to draw Cyrteris` attention.
“Your Lordship, May I ask why you have summoned us here?” Commander Velten inquired in gruff yet respectful tone as he brushed his fingers through the thick brown mustache that hung like a pair of extra fingers under his hooked nose.
“Yes you may, I have summoned you here to issue you some new orders,” Cyrteris sighed bored to mental tears behind the tired mask that was his young face. “Captain Ferden, you are in charge of the patrols in the regions outside the palisade. In addition, I want you to extend your patrols a half mile further north of the palisade, scouts have reported increased activity up that way. Captain Calis, you are to replace Commander Velten as leader of the patrols within the palisade walls. And Commander Velten, I want you to personally escort our guest, Baltev Colmane, back to Galvin’s Port. Assemble a force of a dozen riders and leave by midmorning tomorrow,” Cyrteris finished the briefing with a salute and a dismissal, and then shut the door behind them before returning to his seat at the head of the table. He sat there in silence with his head hung in his hands, infinitely sick with the world at the moment. Never before as Duke has he been this swamped by meetings, conferences, duty reports, complaints and the like before. It was downright maddening now. Ever since his bastard of a brother usurped him from his city, Cyrteris found his personal moral to be gradually dwindling as the weeks crawled by. To think it had only been month since the rebellion in Fort Revenald. And how he regretted sending the Rue twins and Ivan to setup the sister palisade of the one he currently occupied, he missed their friendship. Cyrteris especially missed Clover’s tranquil and yet wild presence, and exciting personality. With a grumble, Cyrteris cleared these thought from his mind, they simply weren’t helping his mood. With that thought, he left the conference room, dismissed Officer Devis for the evening, and then wandered to his personal quarters where he collapsed into his bunk. He only laid there for a minute before sleep overtook him.
Isabelle Silverstream stalked around King Marvic’s throne room like a hurricane on a warpath against a volcano. She shoved over the suits of decorative armor, tore down decorative tapestries (thankfully of little value), slugged a number of the stewards and Vigil Guards in the face as she whirled past them shouting wildy in fury. Marvic, The Master, Rasvin, and Kheldar watched impassively as she ranted about the defeat of the soldiers she sent recently against Cyrteris’ forces and were as aptly defeated as the preceding force. Isabelle as usually began to curse and damn, Grand Savant Kenras for disappearing and leaving her in charge of a bunch of worthless mongrels. Marvic personally wanted to tell to shut it, but he didn’t wish to be another bloodstain on the marble floor like the poor fools that have to report the defeats to Isabelle. So Marvic decide to take a smoother approach, “Lady Silverstream, perhaps we should conserve our forces for a month or so and then launch a large scale attack to overwhelm them all at once. While over the course of that same month a small force disrupts the movement of supplies and soldiers to and from the Western Palisade?”
Isabelle immediately stopped her rant and rushed towards him like a bolt of lightning, and struck across the face making a sound close to that of thunder. “Do not speak whelp unless spoken to!” She snapped in his face which remained stoic, but his eyes stared daggers at her. Isabellee chuckled wildly in his face as she said, “That is a good plan, but do not speak out of turn again or it will be the death of you.” She turned to the half-drow leader of the Shadowknights, “Assemble a skilled strike team.” Then she turned to the mysterious ever hooded Master, “Send your best assassin to scout the region and to gather as much Intel as possible for Kheldar’s forces.” Spinning away from her audience, Isabelle headed for the throne mounted at the chambers center. “All of you be gone!” She snapped as she sat down, everyone in the room quickly left the chamber without a sound, and soon she was alone.
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Post by Culmir on Jan 16, 2013 16:53:10 GMT 1
Somewhere in the quiet little town of Ivan’s respite two twins ran rampant, they knew they were late to report to Ivan, and were very sorry indeed that it was going to be taking them a little while longer to go and do that. After having been reunited a good while now the twins still were trying to get back in that natural pattern that they had always had together, one making up the others flaws so combined they were quite deadly. Being separated had taught them that there would likely be more chances of them being sent away from one another again, and this proved a small but not unimportant task they needed to overcome. So the twins had taken up the habit of spreading through the confined of the fortress walls, trying not to run into each other, unfortunately this proved a hard task as they seemed to be instinctively pulled towards one another.
Rounding a corner, red hair streaming behind her, Clover dashed into an adjacent alley to her left, finding it cluttered with a large stack of crates from recently moved in merchants, smirking she jumped agilely onto the first box, using her forward momentum to climb the large pile lithely, landing on the rooftop of one of the smaller rooms. She stopped momentarily, ignoring that tugging feeling inside of her that seemed to want her to go left over the rooftops, turning right she stared at the larger construction of the keep, knowing that’s where she and Cam would eventually meet up again. Turning she faced forward, tucking her too long hair behind her ears, grumbling to herself about needing to get it cut before it got out of hand. A ping shooting through her awareness made her turn her gaze once more to the left, apparently her brother was having issues ignoring his instincts to come to his twin and was apparently heading straight for her now. Leaping over the small gap between two houses Clover jumped forward from where she was onto the roof of the next small house, spotting an open window to her right she angled her body there midstride, gauging the distance between her roof and the ledge in front of the window carefully before pushing from the edge of the roof. The sensation of flying wasn’t new to her, after weeks of practise with other palisade guards and street urchins she had gotten more nimble, some would say reckless, mostly it was Cam who said that and he refused to jump vicariously from one rooftop the other for fear he might break something. Snorting to herself Clover landed easily on the ledge, grabbing onto the windowframe and swinging herself into the small home, taking a moment to orient herself before she pushed off again, winding through the house easily, waving a cheery hi at the surprised couple sitting downstairs at their early breakfast, before she darted out the door and into the streets. Fortunately it wasn’t that crowded yet in the early beginnings of morning but soon it would be and Cam and Clover were supposed to have reported the night before to Ivan but instead opted to use this moment to hone their skills some more. Slowing down to a walk Clover stared up at the sky, noting the lighting of the clouds that told her dawn was upon them soon “Almeth‘Lo save us we’ve been out far too long” she whispered to herself as she turned towards the keeps spires “guess we better go face the fire” she sighed, shoulders slumped, she had a good idea what kind of punishment she and her brother could expect from Ivan. “Best not keep the old man waiting “ she huffed as she heard the soft skidding of boots on dusty road behind her, a small warm ping in her chest letting her know her twin caught up with her finally.
Cam was having issues to ignore the small tugging feeling in his chest, it made his breathing laborious as he ran through the small streets of Ivan’s respite, he had already given into the pull twice that night and it was unacceptable. Every time he had managed to catch himself from following that inexplicable thread that seemed to bind him to his twin, even now if he focussed hard enough he could feel it pulling on him, almost urging him to go to her side. He kept rationalising the feelings to himself, what if she was hurt? What if she was in any kind of danger? What if she fell off a roof and broke her leg? It was an irrational fear Cam knew that. While safely behind the walls of this fortress they were safe, everyone in town knew about their presence and Clover had even made a point of trying to familiarise herself with as many people as possible so should their need for help ever arise they could call upon a few. It was still hard for Cam to try and ignore this small tug that kept trying to correct him, and he knew very well that Clover was up to her usual antics, probably crawling through rain drainage pipes or jumping over the rooftops. Honestly Cam didn’t know where his sister got this thirst for putting herself in dangerous situations from, back when they were living on the streets sure she was courageous and put herself in harms way before, but there was a need for it, they needed to get food somehow back then, desperate times and all. Secretly Cam hoped that in time this wild side of his sister would abate, knowing they had a warm dry place to sleep in every night and a hot meal whenever they wanted it, it only seemed to make her more...more...reckless. Staring at the sky he paused, there was a lighter hue to the sky already, turning he searched out the star that would tell him exactly how many hours of the night were left, he was surprised when he found it so far into the night already, it meant they had been spending more time in the town than they had meant to. Which in turn would mean Ivan was waiting for them far longer than they had intended to make him wait for them, sighing he turned and faced east towards where he knew his sister was. A small weight falling from his shoulders now that he had finally resigned to give into the instinct to go to her, he started to jog into the general direction he felt her presence, soon his feet were carrying him faster until he broke into a run. Weaving easily through the streets he evaded the few early morning workers on their way to open their shops and prepare for the day, unlike his sister Cam knew which alleys were dead ended, he kept telling Clover to pay attention to them too so she wouldn’t run into any of them in a time of crisis. Of course she kept waving his concerns aside like they were nothing, she fully expected to be able to scramble up a roof somehow. By the time Cam caught up to Clover the sky was a pleasant shade of pale yellow, the sun almost peeking over the city walls. He skidded to a halt around the corner from where she stood and rounded the corner silently, trying to sneak up on his twin.
“Found me have you” Clovers voice rang out to him as he got closer, she still had her back towards him. Cam smiled and gave up trying to sneak up on his sister “Of course” he replied casually, shaking his growing hair out of his eyes, for Clover it was okay to let her hair grow out, for him, not so much, longer hair didn’t suit him very well. He’d have to get it cut soon, and not by one of those military barbers either, they seemed to think millimetred hair was all the new fashion nowadays. Cam shuddered at the thought, he liked his hair a little longer than that thanks. “We should head back, Ivan is going to be angry as it is” he said quietly as his twin turned around to face him, she smirked at him “He’s going to be angry either way, doesn’t matter what we’ve done, he’ll find something to mention you know that, he’s overprotective like that” she waved of his comment as they started walking towards the keep. “So” Clover started conversationally “how was your evening?” she eyed him sideways, a small twinkle in her grey eyes. Cam noted the expression and eyed his twin cautiously before replying “uhm, uneventful” he paused “yours?” he added. Clover shrugged nonchalantly “meh, it was okay, those nice people from the market where you get your shoes fixed have a nice house” she tried to keep a straight face when saying it, but the corners of her mouth kept twitching up involuntarily. Slightly taken aback Cam turned his head to his sister “how would you know?” he asked suspiciously, his brow furrowing. “Cause I might of taken a small but convenient detour through their house this morning” Clover replied casually as they reached the large gate leading into the keep, they passed underneath it and immediately spotted Ivan in the company of Poledra. Spluttering Cam made to grab for his sisters shoulder to reprimand her for her trespassing into someones house when he caught sight of Ivan in the corner of his eye as Poledra promptly placed a kiss on the grisly mans cheek. Flustered Cam eyed his sister who was snickering softly, grey eyes sparkling as Cam cleared his throat softly preparing for the worst.
The master of assassins appraised Isabelle from inside the cowl of his cloak, his eyes affixed to the slender woman as she appeared to want the destruction of every small little thing she could get her hands on. He noted without caring how she tore down some tapestries depicting various battles and the like and then proceeded to the next best thing, when she took it upon herself to beat Vigil guards and stewards his eyes momentarily dashed to Kheldar, he had expected some form of outburst from him by now. Sitting back in his chair he waited, quietly as always until her tirade would end, which was inevitable of course, not even an admirable woman like Isabelle Silverstream had enough stamina to keep this up indefinitely, so he did was he did best, wait. The slap to Marvic was not at all unexpected, his Intel on the woman had told him that she was prone to such violence, and if her destruction of the room they were in wasn’t enough evidence of such he wasn’t sure what else would suffice. So he listened, weighing the council of Marvic carefully against other options they might have before deciding it wasn’t a bad idea at all, so he waited till addressed by Isabelle. He didn’t even bother writing down an answer to her demands but simply got up from his seat and left the room shortly after Kheldar did and Marvic followed soon after, leaving Isabelle to her own devices.
Kheldar’s eyes followed Isabelle much the same like the masters did, a small tightening of his jaw the only indication that he was reaching his limits to letting this frail wisp of a woman storm around the place for much longer. Lacing his long fingers together he watched in mild surprise as Marvic spoke to the infuriated spellcaster. What the man said made sense, Isabelles reaction to what he was saying however was not appropriate in Kheldars eyes, he saw the red hand mark glow on Marvics cheek before fading, undoubtedly it would sting for a while knowing Isabelles strength when she wanted it. Red eyes on Isabelle he watched her turn towards him now, leaning back in his chair he kept his laced fingers together, an expression of mild amusement on his features as she commanded him to assemble a strike team. How presumptuous of her that she could boss him around, of course he would gather this team, but not because she said so, although it would please her to think that he was listening to her. No he would gather it, and then see when it was best to strike, after all he was the Shadowknights leader, master in the art of war, not some erratic and emotional woman. He is half drow, after all, he smirked to himself and left the room shortly after Isabelles little rant and supposedly dismissing them.
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Post by xaen on Jan 16, 2013 22:55:57 GMT 1
Ivan forced a hollow sounding cough to try to give the illusion that what the Rue twins had just witnessed had never really happened and that he was still tough as nails. He shot Clover a sharp reproachful glare for her smirk and showered both of the siblings with an icy disapproving frown. “You’re beyond late!” He snapped all thoughts of his personally embarrassment abated by the chance to chide his students for their tardiness and whatever else he could pick at them for; though Clover’s silent smirk irked him. Ivan expected nothing less than perfection from aspiring students, even though he was secretly proud of their incredible learning curve and natural prowess. “By all of the Divines in the Heavens! I ordered you two to meet me here at midnight not predawn! Not to mention neither one of you have arrived looking proper! Your hair is a mess and your attire is spotted with dust and mud! Not to mention both of you forgot your weapons!! This was to be a lesson in what I call silent combat, but I guess we will have to forgo that lesson,” Ivan huffed fiercely through the thick, but neat salt and pepper beard that had grown over the course of the two months that past since their expulsion from Fort Revenald. His normally short similarly coloured hair had grown long just like the twins, but his was straight and tidy, just like his Reven Raven armor.
Ivan briefly removed his disapproving glare from the Rues to regard the small empty court of the recently completed keep, thinking of how best to punish his arrant pupils. Once he came up with a fiendish idea he turned back to face the stoic looks of Cam and Clover. “Since you are unarmed, we might as well continue your favourite lessons......Hand to Hand combat,” He growled with a diabolical twinkle in his old hazel eyes. At first they didn’t quite understand what he meant by his choice in punishment, since they actually did enjoy his hand to hand lessons. After a moment though they realized his plan and they immediately attempted to protest, but Ivan’s upraised hand silenced any complaints as he turned about and led them into the adjoining training grounds attached to the main courtyard. Ivan laughed maniacally in his head as he led them to their fate, thinking to himself how wonderfully thought through this punishment was. Sure they enjoyed his hand to hand combat lessons when they sparred with dummies, peacekeepers, or each other, but just like in all other aspects of their training they dreaded only one thing about his teaching methods. Sparring against him! Whenever he sparred with them he never held back and he tended to end up embarrassing them in front of the peacekeepers, and what better way to embarrass them then by doing that with their weakest subject. Once in the courtyard, Ivan retrieved a pair of padded sparring gloves from one of the equipment chests and tossed a second pair to Cam, saying with cold amusement in his voice, “Your first, young man.” Both siblings the whole while were as silent as ghosts as he had instructed them to be when he was teaching, so Cam immediately caught the gloves and slid them onto his hands without a peep of protest.
While Clover moved off to the side, Ivan could see clearly on her face that she not only dreaded her turn, but was also concerned for her twin. Ivan chuckled aloud at her discomfort. “Maybe this will teach you two to come to class on time for a change! Cam enter an offensive stance, you lead,” Ivan said flatly as he positioned himself into a defensive stance.
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Post by Culmir on Jan 17, 2013 16:34:55 GMT 1
Cam nudged his sisters calf with the tip of his boot to wipe the smirk of her face, she grimaced momentarily and shot him a sideways glare “knock it off” she hissed under her breath as they both eyed Ivan apprehensively. Managing to look appropriately ashamed of themselves the twins remained standing in front of Ivan as he spoke, heads bowed down in a small sign of resignation, knowing full well they deserved this reprimand from the elder man. Clover fidgeted nervously with her shirt when Ivan continued his tirade and mentioned their less than pristine clothing, wiping at a small spot of dust Clover tried to at least get some smudges off her clothing, eyeing her brothers furtively to see if he had gotten as dirty as she had. Feeling equally as inadequate Cam shuffled on his feet, staring down at a small rock in front of him on the floor, noting that indeed his shoes were in less than perfect condition which would of course mean his tunic was not exactly clean either. “We’re really sorry” Cam muttered but Ivan didn’t seem to hear as he continued on relentlessly, now noting that neither twin was armed at all and taking full advantage of this situation and scolding them for it.
Both of them looked up at Ivan however when he mentioned that their training was supposed to be a stealthy one, which both of them enjoyed immensely as it required some of the skills they had picked up on the streets. Feeling even more miserable now they stared at each other, Clovers eyes no longer bearing the sparkle of mischief and Cams stormy grey clouding over even more knowing they had gravely disappointed their teacher, who in fact they were rather fond of. So they waited for their teacher to finish whatever train of thought he was on as he pensively watched the city, the twins exchanged a glance when it took Ivan a couple of minutes to make up his mind and they did not like that glint of amusement sparkling in his eyes when he did finally turn to the twins again. It took a moment to register what Ivan was saying to them and Cam and Clover shared a small confused look before it finally dawned on them “but we..” they started but were cut short by Ivan’s raised hand.
Grumbling under their breaths the red headed twins followed Ivan into the training yard, Clover immediately glancing around to see how badly they were going to be humiliated, unfortunately for them it appeared a large number of people would be bearing witness to their training today. Some actually eagerly circled around the sparring ring Ivan chose. Clover breathed at least some small sigh of relief when Ivan chose to spar with her brother first, but she knew she wouldn’t be spared and would have to endure through it too eventually, once Ivan had defeated her brother. But at least then the old grizzly bear would be at least somewhat tired, she hoped, she watched as Cam put on the sparring gloves and entered the ring cautiously, chewing down on her bottom lip Clover settled herself down to watch, hoping to catch some weaknesses in Ivans defense.
Cam shot one last glance at his twin who settled down beside the ring before he slipped into it and faced Ivan, Cams grey eyes watching the older man opposite of him as he instructed him to lead the attack. Cams mind flashed back to other training sessions he had been through that required hand to hand combat, in theory he knew some moves but executing them on a training dummy who could not think of its own was a whole lot different than attempting them on a full grown man with years of fighting instinct and knowledge at hand. He quickly decided to try and use the mans size to his advantage, because Ivan was slightly taller and more filled out than Cam supposedly it would mean Cam had speed to his advantage, closing the distance smoothly between him and Ivan Cam opened with a less than powerful swing at the mans right, ducking under Ivan’s brought up arm and swinging his fist to the mans stomach, praying for the best.
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Post by xaen on Jan 18, 2013 3:51:11 GMT 1
Ivan watched his pupil with his battle wise old eyes, and nearly smiled when he saw Cam’s feet shift ever so slightly into a position that would allow him a lightning fast burst of speed. As the old warrior had expected the young man thought that he would be quicker and more mobile than his teacher. Ivan believed that Cam may one day be able to out maneuver and outpace him, but that day was far from today. A few seconds past that seemed like minutes to the battle hardened warrior, he quickly scanned the sand-dirt floor of the sparring ring and immediately registered the grade, the slope, the level and the uneven changes in its form. At the same time he carefully studied Cam’s body language and his facial expressions for his cue. Ivan didn’t have to wait long before Cam’s left eyebrow twitched slightly, his muscles tensed, and he turned his head slightly to the right, a sign that he was about to attack; after weeks of training the Rue’s he took note of this unintentional full body twitch of Cam’s that gave away his intentions to the master. A moment after his customary twitch Cam launched himself with incredible speed inside Ivan’s guard and fired a light jab under Ivan’s right arm for his stomach. The peacekeepers and the palisade’s recent recruits that watched, all gasped in amazement for they have watched the Rue`s training in the past few months but have never witnessed Cam move so fast.
Ivan on the other hand, didn`t even blink. Accepting the weak blow and using its slight momentum to empower his own, Ivan twisted his body into a quick but wide spin in the opposite direction. The spin brought him directly behind Cam, who had just stopped his momentum and spun around to face where Ivan had just been standing. In that five second engagement, Ivan had been hit and then moved like a cheetah’s ghost through Cam’s blind spot to stand directly behind him. Clover tried to warn Cam, but Ivan was already unleashing his brutal assault. Dropping into a swift crouch Ivan swept Cam’s legs out from under him with a great sweeping kick. Working off the momentum of the kick Ivan was soon standing straight and in hot pursuit of Cam, who attempted to put distance between him and his teacher by rolling. Ivan mentally applauded the young man when he managed to nearly regain his feet before Ivan reached him. Ivan launched a quick but predictable jab at Cam’s exposed face. Cam used his free arm to block the straight forward attack, but was shocked when Ivan hooked his free arm under his upraised arm a split second later and the deflected jabbing hand grabbed hold of his supporting arm. Growling like a grizzly bear, Ivan hoisted Cam from the ground and then dropped into a backwards somersault pushing Cam up with his legs as he did so. Flipping his unfortunate student into a short flight across the ring, and finishing his roll Ivan was back on his feet and slowly approaching.
Once again Ivan was silently proud of his pupil, for Cam was back on his feet looking confused and a little fazed by what happened but ready to face his master once again. Ivan watched Cam carefully noting that the young man chose a defensive stance opposed to an aggressive stance, and was monitoring Ivan just as intently as the master was staring at his pupil. Ivan decided to test Cam’s mettle, by launching a fast left hook, right jab, left jab, left hook, and heel kick combination.
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Post by Culmir on Jan 18, 2013 14:10:53 GMT 1
Cam soon found himself in a difficult position, being forced back into a defensive stance by Ivan, knowing that he was at the mans mercy should he choose to attack him now. Grey eyes watched the man, looking for tells that might show Cam what Ivans next move was going to be, he could feel the tension in the air, hanging between them as they circled. The small but not insignificant change in Ivans footing on the dusty ground gave Cam a small part of a second to see the mans preparation to lunge at him. Months of earlier training kicked in and Cam managed to block at least 3 of the attacks, including the one that would of shattered his nose by Ivans surprisingly spry legs as his heel almost slammed into the younger mans face. Sweat pouring down Cams face as he felt numerous bruises bloom on his chest, arms and legs he didn’t think his situation could get any worse.
Forgoing all reservation Cam Lunged himself as hard as he can towards Ivan, in an attempt to tackle him to the ground and wrestle him into submission. Not surprisingly Ivan twists at the last second and kicks Cam across the face, blood spurting from Cams nostrils as the shock of pain travels through his spine as he lands face first into the dirt, coughing it from his lungs. Crawling away from Ivan Cam tries to get his bearings only to see Ivan charging at him from the corners of his eyes, jumping on his back and forcibly keeping him on the ground by twisting his arm painfully onto his back.
“I yield, I yield” Cam pants, accepting defeat.
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Post by xaen on Jan 18, 2013 15:09:26 GMT 1
Ivan was thoroughly impressed with Cam's application of the skills he had been taught the past few months. Since Cam was capable to block three of his strikes, and deflect the fourth, but it still made contact with his nose. Once Ivan delivered his heel kick he knew he had almost subdued his pupil, but to his surprise Cam unleashed a powerful grappling assault that caused them to struggle violently for a great length of time to gain the upper hand. Wild blows were traded so quickly most didn't register to either of them. Ivan soon began to sweat from the exertion of the struggle, and not wishing to be too tired when he faced Clover decided to end the sparring match. With a powerful twist Ivan separated himself from Cam, and swung his foot at a tight angle to deliver a strong but controlled kick to Cam's face. Connecting solidly, the blow knocks Cam a little out of Ivan's reach. As Ivan rose and closed in on the crawling Cam, he couldn't help but admire the boy's spirit. Reaching the still prone Cam, Ivan dropped a knee onto Cam's back and restrained one of his arms in a painful position behind his head until he yielded. After a short defiant moment Cam gasps his yield, and Ivan slowly releases the pressure on the captured arm. Standing straight Ivan helps Cam to his feet as he does so he spots the horrendous bruises on Cam's bare arms, and the blood sprayed across his face from his broken nose. Clasping his hand on Cam's forearm in a sign of respect Ivan proudly told Cam, “Good fight, Lad! You have certainly proved your mettle, even though your form and tactics could use some work!”
Helping Cam out of the ring, Ivan was amused by the stunned and excited faces of the audience watching as he eased the winded Cam onto a bench. Once Ivan ensured a healer would take care of Cam's busted nose, he turned to where Clover had been standing when the fight had been taking place. To Ivan's surprise, Clover had already donned a pair of sparring gloves and stood ready in the ring waiting for him. As he approached started to notice that his right knee was incredibly sore, probably from a stray punch or kick from Cam when they wrestled. Also Ivan looked into Clover's eyes and saw incredible fiery energy waiting to be unleashed. Ivan smirked at this predictable aspect of the Rue twin. Neither of them could tolerate watching the other being harmed, and whenever such a thing happened they tended to fight hard, faster, and stronger, but sloppier. Deciding to manipulate the fires of vengeance inside Clover, Ivan began to purposely limp giving her the illusion that Cam had weakened his stances and mobility. Once he was inside the ring and facing Clover, Ivan planted his feet into an offensive stance, purposely favouring his left leg as he did so. “Prepare yourself!” He roared as he fired a crafty staggering haymaker at Clover's face.
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Post by Culmir on Jan 19, 2013 14:06:28 GMT 1
Cam coughed wearily when Ivan released him and helped Cam to his feet, gingerly poking at his ribs the bronze haired twin felt tentatively if all were still intact, he knew he didn’t need to feel his nose to know that it was broken. He had felt the snap of bone painfully as well as the hot spurt of blood that dribbled down his face, the coppery taste of it left a weird aftertaste in his mouth. He managed a small grimace of acceptance when Ivan commended the fight, Cams grey eyes darting to the healer that was already speeding towards them before they moved on to his sister, knowing being made to watch was probably worse than having to endure the blows from Ivan. Much to Cams dismay he saw his sisters face was set in grim determination, which meant somewhere in her mind Ivan crossed a line his sister didn’t think he should of, if Cam had to wager a guess he would say it was the breaking of his nose, which throbbed painfully at that moment. Unable to control his features into a passive acceptance a spasm of pain shot across his face, eyes watering from the pressure on his broken nose he watched how Clover deftly tugged on a pair of sparring gloves, her grey eyes hard as steel as she watched her brother being taken care of by a healer. Cam tried to reach out to his sister to tell her not to take it so personally, Ivan was their teacher after all and not one lessoned could be learned properly without first admitting defeat and accepting the help to improve. Clover on the other hand had a different opinion on that. Slumping down on the vacated seat Cam allowed the healer to administer to his minor wounds first, knowing the pain from his nose being set straight might knock him out so he pleaded with the woman to not set it until after Ivan sparred with his sister. If she had to sit through watching him get beaten soundly, Cam felt he should not be allowed to be unconscious while his own sister endured the same fate.
Clovers jaw set, her teeth clenched tightly together, her lips but a pale stripe on her face as she glared defiantly at Ivan who stood opposite from her in the sparring ring. She understood that they had failed to follow his orders and report to Ivan at midnight but it really was not necessary for their elder teacher to resort to breaking bones, of course the nose was a highly likely bone to be broken when sparring but that seemed beyond the point now. Ivan knew she and Cam were but fledglings when it came to hand to hand combat and he seemed to actually enjoy putting them through the proverbial rigger too much this time. Her temper flared when Ivan smirked at her, her fists tightening with a small creak of soft leather that encased her hands, nostrils flaring in anger as she stared at the man across the ring. Clovers grey eyes followed Ivan as he moved into the ring, she noted the limp in his knee and her eyebrow arched briefly, sending a quick glance at her brother who mirrored her expression, neither had seen him limp when he was escorting Cam out of the ring. Suspicion raised Clover turned her eyes back onto the elder man, if it was a facade he executed it well, if it was real she should take her chances weakening him further, if it was faked she’d be exposing herself to Ivans quick reach and wits. Still debating internally Clover had a split second to deflect Ivans sudden attack, a growl ripping from her throat as she launched her counters. Fighting ferociously Clover launched herself back from Ivan, her eyes fixed on his knee as she feinted to the right, watching the man prepare for her attack by shifting his weight around, her eyes glittered when she noted the left knee was capable of bearing the mans weight in an unconscious prep for her right sided attack, so he was faking it! Triumphantly Clover let out a scream, knowing some men were known to be intimidated when opposed a foe that proclaimed his strength by screaming, dipping low landing light on her hands Clover swiped at Ivans legs with her left. Watching as the man easily leaped over her attack as she darted from his range, a steel glint in her grey eyes as they watched each other cautiously in the ring. Closing the distance smoothly, weaving from the left to the right to make herself a harder to catch target Clover lead her next attack with the same combo that had ultimately defeated her brother, using Ivans own ploys against him.
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Post by xaen on Jan 20, 2013 3:36:39 GMT 1
As Ivan expected Clover easily deflected his haymaker and retaliated with a few jabs of her own. During the short exchange he managed to maintain the façade of a crippled knee, but when he prepared to launch a powerful strike his body unconsciously revealed his ploy. So to Ivan’s shock Clover dodged his cunning attack, screaming in triumph as she did so and managed to execute an attack of her own that nearly swept his legs out from under him. Leaping into the air Ivan managed to dodge the intelligent strike, and landing smoothly back on his feet. Impressed by her guile Ivan circled Clover, watching her intently as he did so. Suddenly Clover launched herself into a weaving charge that was intended to throw Ivan off as she closed the distance. To Ivan’s amazement, Clover used his own strike combination against him. Though her form and pattern was unexpected, Ivan defeated it easily since he had long ago mastered the countering maneuver. Once he defeated the three hand strikes, Ivan somersaulted backwards away from Clover when she launched the heel kick at his face. Rising from the roll quickly he smiled at Clover with sincere admiration on his face as he squared off with her again.
Ivan purposely waited until Clover made another strike and when her fist approached, he deftly captured it by the wrist and then struck Clover with a sharp jab to the diaphragm. When she doubled over, Ivan struck the backside of her legs with a swift kick knocking her to the ground. Feebly gasping for air, Clover tried to roll away but didn’t get far before the lack of air caused her to stop. Ivan waited patiently a moment for her to regain her breath and feet, once she did Ivan approached her cautiously. Deciding it was time to end this lesson for the day, Ivan fell upon her with a flurry of jabs, hooks, and kicks. She blocked and deflected quite a few but being short of breath from the hit to her diaphragm she could not hold off the barrage. Ivan could not doubt that her arms, legs, and chest were covered in bruises, but still she refused to yield and grunted through the pain whenever her counterstrikes resulted in another missed block. After another half-minute of the assault, Ivan could no longer maintain the emotional neutrality required of him to deliver such a beating on one of the pupils ‘ he loved like his own children. Thinking quickly Ivan found the solution; he suddenly ended his attack and then quickly retreated forcing Clover to follow. When she followed, Ivan spun suddenly around on his heels and charged her. As he hoped she hesitated because of his sudden change of direction, and so he covered the small distance between them in a heartbeat. Once in range, Ivan leaped into the air and rotated his body so that he was parallel with the ground at the same time he scissored his legs around Clover’s body and then twisted sharply. The action forcibly tore Clover from where she stood and slammed her to the ground. Slithering like a snake, Ivan quickly flipped her onto her stomach and imprisoned her arm in a fashion similar to how he had forced Cam to yield. To Ivan’s horror, Clover continued to struggle despite being painfully pinned.
“Please Clover yield! You are beaten, and you have fought admirably, but I have defeated you! So please surrender,” Ivan pleaded her, for if she continued to struggle the hold in which he held her would cause her to snap her own arm, his concern for her inadvertently making his voice quiver in fear for her well-being. She continued to struggle for a moment longer and Ivan eased the pressure on her arm to hopefully prevent her from breaking her own arm. After a long minute, Clover finally began to slowly stop resisting and slowed her breathing as she calmed down.
The sun glared through the blinds into Duke Cyrteris’ eyes rousing from his deep slumber, yawning profoundly Cyrteris rose from his bed and looked at the shuttered window. Judging from the amount of light glaring through his blinds, Cyteris estimated that it was roughly midmorning. The Duke took a moment to rub the sleep from his eyes before leaping to his feet and quickly dressing. Having slept longer than he intended, Cyrteris did not doubt that a lot of work awaited him in his office and wherever else he was needed. After a few short minutes he was dressed and out the door, a quick walk through the Keep brought Cyrteris to the main courtyard where Commander Velten and Representative Baltev Colmane were making the final preparations for the journey east back to Galvin’s Port. The Commander and his Peacekeepers saluted the Duke as he made his way across the courtyard to the main gate that lead to the rest of the palisade town. Politely Cyrteris returned the salute as he walked passed them on his way to the small building that served as his public office, where he would find Lady Saria Moonflower. She was no doubt already dealing with all of the minor issues brought to the office by the loyal citizens that fled the former city of Fort Revenald before the Rebel forces sealed the gates. Cyrteris was constantly greeted by citizens and peacekeepers as he made his way through palisade fort city, and politely he smiled and greeted them back. Once he reached the office he didn’t even bother to knock as he went in, and without surprise Lady Moonflower sat at the desk across the room from the door servicing a thankfully small line of citizens. She looked up from the argument between the two citizens to shoot a ‘Save me’ look at him, which made him smile and return a look that said ‘And make myself suffer?’
While Saria dealt with the bickering merchants, Cyrteris informed the rest of the frustrated citizens that he could help them. After a short half-hour, Cyrteris had successfully assisted six citizens with a range of problems some as severe as a collapsed roof to a robbery, to things less severe as a miscommunication and a simple accident. By then Lady Saria had successfully ended the argument between the two Merchant Lords, both leaving happily laughing together, and she looked incredibly irritated. “Saria, how about we shut down early today and hire a clerk to take messages, and book meetings for tomorrow, since it doesn’t look like you can handle this anymore than I can today,” Cyrteris asked her calmly from the desk he sat at straightening papers, she sighed and nodded her agreement. He smiled and told her he would hire the clerk and that she could be on her way. Lady Saria left shortly after he found a clerk, and after instructing the clerk Cyrteris left his office early. Free to do as he pleased for a short while. He decided to find Vlan’Tur, who now served as the Fortresses General, after a quick wander through the small growing community he reached the outer wall. As he expected Vlan’Tur was at the eastern gate ordering the change of the guard, but he didn’t expect to see Commander Velten and his men standing around idly while Representative Baltev once again squared off with the large Vorshtaran man. “Oh for Casylen’s peace!” Cyrteris grumbled as he approached the shouting men, they had drawn a large crowd of amused peacekeepers, who no doubt waited for Vlan’Tur to snap the insolent paper-pusher in half.
“Off running to that coward ridden cesspool you call a city!” Vlan’Tur half-laughed half-shouted at the shorter man who stood a mere foot and a half away. Vlan’Tur’s hands were firmly planted on his hips with his chest puffed out in an aggressive stance to intimidate the Representative of Galvin’s Port.
“Ignorant half-breed! Sand eating pile of horse shit! How dare you continue to insult my city! As I have countlessly told you, I AM SORRY I CAN’T HELP YOU!”, Baltev Colmae hollered back, judging from the red hue of his cheeks and poor choice of words this argument/shouting match had been going on for some time, no doubt for the past half hour.
“Enough!” Snapped the Duke of Fort Revenald, once he was a few feet away from the sneering men that both now looked dangerously close to fisticuffs. Glaring disappointedly at Vlan’Tur, Cyrteris growled, “Did I not tell you to let it go last night!” Vlan’Tur immediately backed down knowing full well that he deserved the chiding from his friend and Lord, though Baltev smiled triumphantly like a pompous idiot believing that he had won. The smile faded immediately when Cyrteris sneered icily at the Representative from Galvin’s Port, “And you should be on your way to Galvin’s Port! I do have a need for these good men that are escorting you home! Especially since you have refused to send troops from your own city!” Representative Colmane cast his gaze to the dirt at his feet in shame knowing full well that he was just as guilty as Vlan’Tur for their argument and that he could not refute Cyrteris’ harsh observation.
“My apologies Duke Mraen, I…I will take my leave now. Thank you for your hospitality M’Lord, and my apologies for my rude comments General Vlan’Tur,” Baltev apologized, bowing respectively, turning away from Vlan’Tur and Cyrteris he signal his escort to mount up as he did so.
Duke Cyrteris watched them ride off through the gates for a few moments before turning his attention back to Vlan’Tur, who stared angrily after the departing Official. After a minute, Vlan’Tur realized that Cyrteris was staring intently at him and returned with an intense stare of his own. The engagement last for a few silent seconds before Cyrteris simply said, eyes unblinking, “Mount up and join them.”
Vlan’Tur broke his focus and blinked several times as he processed what Cyrteris had just said. “What?!?” He sputtered in confusion as he studied the Duke’s face looking for some sign that he was joking. When he saw none, Vlan’Tur took a step back from the Duke in confusion trying to figure out why he would send him to travel with a man he would probably strangle to death in their next confrontation. He motioned to inquire about Cyrteris’ reasoning, but the Duke interrupted him before he had a chance.
“You will go with them to ensure that they make it home safely, and on your way back you will stop in at Ivan’s Respite and see how things are going on that front before you head back,” Cyrteris explained, his voice impassive and immobile to an argument. Vlan’Tur accepted the instructions with a grim nod, intoning that he understood his punishment but still held restraints about orders. “Don’t worry about your duties here, I will appoint a suitable replacement until you return,” Cyrteris continued understanding the questions in his General’s eyes.
“As you wish M’Lord,” Vlan’Tur said with an arm clasp customary of his people before moving off to retrieve a horse from the nearby stables. Picking a strong chestnut mare, Vlan’Tur mounted quickly and started for and out the gates, but before he went too far Cyrteris called after him, “And tell Ivan to send the Rue’s my way for a few days, I would certainly enjoy a visit from them since I haven’t seen them in month!” Nodding to confirm that he got the message, Vlan’Tur forced his mount to run full tilt across the rolling hills to catch the caravan headed for the east.
King Marvic watched the Shadowknight strike force gather outside the city’s northern gate from the wall, he watched as the Lady Isabelle Silverstream inspected them alongside the Lord Kheldar inspect the gathered force of lightly armoured and mounted, archers, swordsmen, and Kassisenite Priests and Priestesses. Marvic’s spies inside the city still hadn’t found any trace of the vanished Grand Savant, but they did inform him that Isabelle and her small forces were members of the Arcanum Suprenum; a group that often fought against the Kassislek worshipers and his faithful Shadowknights. From what his most trusted spies had told him, Isabelle and Kenras had struck a tentative deal together along with the rather neutral party that was the Society of Assassins. Kenras had left Isabelle in charge to keep her from attempting to take control for herself from one of his men and instigating a full out war between the three groups, that would leave them vulnerable to an external force that could take the city from all of them. ‘So basically she was a puppet just like he was’ Marvic mused quietly to himself as he watched Isabelle throw her hands up in sudden frustration. Not understanding her reaction, Marvic watched more intently and managed to catch a small snippet of the conversation on the wind.
“Where is that confounded Assassin and his underlings! The Master swore was that he was his best Assassin! How else can this strike force be effective at all without a scout force!” Isabelle screeched at the assemble force in front of her, all of them stoically accepting the berating from the furious Archmage.
From Marvic’s perspective it looked like Kheldar was close to exploding, since the mixed blooded elven man had to stand there and take her insults and insufferable attitude for the past fifteen minutes. But before Kheldar could say anything, a band of three black garbed and hooded figures emerged from the gates below and approached the Shadowknight’s General, and the Archmage of the Arcanum Suprenum. Isabelle screamed something about their tardiness, but the lead Assassin simply bowed silently in apology before mounting up and instructing the assembled to do likewise. With a final remark about the insolent nature of Assassins, Isabelle ordered the strike force to ride out and strike their first target, a small force headed east from Luthien’s Rest. The riders charged off to the north and Isabelle and Kheldar returned inside the city. Marvic looked out across the rolling his looking off into the distant northwest, where Luthien’s Rest lay and where his brother hid, the distance was so great an elf wouldn’t be able to spot more than a speck on the horizon. Marvic sneered at the thought of his brother sitting safely in his new Keep actually commanding the power at his fingertips, instead of commanding a fraction of that power and bullying his subjects into submission. “Damn you! Favoured son of the bastard Lord Arthasis!” Marvic growled hatefully at the distant Fortress, his hands strangling the stone battlements until his knuckles turned white. After a short moment of fury, Marvic turned away from the wall and made his way back to his Palace where he and Rasvin will be under the watchful eyes of Kassisenite clergy members, Shadowknights, Arcanites, and traitorous Vigil Guard. The King of Asendil began to think deeply on how he and his few loyal men could manipulate the fragile truce between the three warring groups to his advantage.
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Post by Culmir on Jan 20, 2013 14:31:00 GMT 1
Growling Clover fell back from her attack, of course Ivan knew how to block his own strikes, stupid that she tried but it did lead to him giving up pretending that his leg was injured more than it really was. However Clover didn’t like that after Ivan had blocked her moves the man proceeded to simply smile at her, like this was all just fun and games for him, this just stoked her anger more. Glaring daggers at the elder man Clover pushed off from the ground again towards Ivan, though she knew he had plenty of time to recover from her last strike so she knew he had abundant time to prepare for her next attack. Lunging at him she made to strike at his shoulder, hoping to throw him off balance as she found her wrist being caught in a vicelike pinch by Ivan as he knocked the wind out of her by a solid open hand jab to her chest. Doubling over gasping for breath Clover coughed hoping to trick her lungs into expanding and letting oxygen in when she felt Ivans legs connecting to the back of her legs, sweeping her off her feet to land solidly on the ground with a thud, a spray of pain lancing through her spine. Her vision clouded over for a couple of seconds as Clover tried to get her bearings, rolling onto her knees as she tried to orient, still gasping to force air into her unwilling lungs. She knew Ivan was holding back when she got back onto her feet he saw him standing apart from her, grey eyes narrowing Clover realised he had purposely let her recover. Resuming their cautious circling of each other Clover found herself being put back onto the defensive once more as Ivan lunged at her, it took a lot of her strength to block some of Ivans attacks but a lot of them still got through and scored numerous hits on Clover, she felt battered and her lungs were still not willing to cooperate and allowed her only small shallow breaths which proved insufficient to give her enough air to deflect the punches thrown at her. Her vision swam black most of the time and Clover was soon swaying on her feet, gritting her teeth she persevered by willpower alone. It was a surprise to Clover when Ivan backed away from her, ending his assault, through teary eyes Clover watched Ivan retreat, she followed confusedly, trying to see through this new ploy of his when he suddenly turned and charged at her like an enraged bull. Trying feebly to twist out of the way Clover was unable to get out of Ivans reach as his legs twisted around her midriff and tore her down to the ground, landing on her back with a dusty puff of air. Grunting on impact Clover attempted to get back onto her feet, the world slowly spinning around her when she felt herself begin swung around, forced onto her stomach and a knee pressed painfully into her back as her arms were pulled onto her back in an agonising lock. Squirming Clover tried to break free, her arm being close to their breaking point as Ivan spoke hurriedly to her. Her rage fueled her struggle for a couple minutes longer before her body finally caved, the adrenaline built up inside her spent and every bruise and sprained muscle she had been ignoring bloomed into existence. Clover groaned softly as she relaxed “I yield” she muttered to the dust.
Kheldar had taken a few hours to ponder his men, inspecting them all carefully and sending them out into his own sparring set up to watch each and every one square off against one another. Many of them fell before stronger opponents and the winner of each round was then paired with another winner, whoever won that round continued on and so forth. Until in the end Kheldar was satisfied with the force he had gathered he ordered them to don their armour and report to the northern city gate. The men who failed to join his taskforce would be going through rigorous training assigned to them by his best trainers, he couldn’t afford to have any slackers in his Shadowknights. Staring at the assembled force as they walked out of the training grounds Kheldar felt what he thought was a pang of pride, which disturbed him greatly, these men were expendable and he couldn’t allow himself to grow attached to any of them.
When his force finally assembled Isabelle deemed it proper to inspect them herself, like the half drows assessment of his own crew was not enough for her to rely on. It was not his place to question a woman but she was no matriarch and definitely not a matron mother so Kheldar had no issue sneering at the archmage when she passed his men with a haughty expression on her face. A small smirk appeared on his features when she ranted about the master of assassins, some small part of him commended the mysterious leader of the assassins guild, this was most likely his or her way of showing that while the guild would accept offers they were not solely under the command of the archmage. However this did leave him with the predicament of being forced to listen to this obnoxious womans blather on and on about such a menial little thing. So what if the assassins were late, not like the plan had a fixed timeschedule, battle rarely listened to hourly schedules and any person assuming they did were probably very soon killed in the action.
The master of assassins watched from afar as his select pupils marched their way into the midst of Shadowknights and the archmage who appeared to be quite erratic lately. This was precisely the reason why the master had scribbled out some hasty orders to his students not to take anything Isabelle said seriously, to simply let her scream and rant until she exhausted herself. The assassins served a higher purpose than those that Isabelle deemed important, after all if the other side should choose to hire their services they simply could not afford to be attached to another mans or womans goals in life. Such was not the way of the assassins, the master was proud that his pupils bore the brunt of Isabelles sharp tongue so stoically, but it was what he expected of them, they knew he was watching and any deviation from his orders would lead to punishment. Content with the outcome of the situation the master watched as his forces joined the Shadowknights into their crusade north before he retreated back into the small but lavish house he had taken up residence in for the day.
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