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<blockquote data-quote="Emperor Valerian" data-source="post: 1695389" data-attributes="member: 15043"><p>And you missed the update by about 20 minutes... <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /></p><p></p><p>And I knew you were reading it... you were the one that asked me to keep writing! <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite7" alt=":p" title="Stick out tongue :p" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":p" /> </p><p>= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = </p><p></p><p>“Royukgan!” Vintressa called in the darkness, despite the proximity of the enemy. Her only answer was the moans from the wounded laying all about her, some cut, many burned. She reined her horse up, fearful thoughts dancing in her head. <em>What if he is laying on the ground, and my horse steps on him?!</em> Her eyes scanned the bodies laying about even more feverishly.</p><p></p><p>Slowly she made her way further, her ears ignoring the groans of the wounded, and instead searching for a whisper, a familiar groan. She heard none... and saw nothing like him… no black cloaks, only body after body in the lighter shades of their enemies liveries. For another twenty minutes she cantered onward in the darkness.</p><p></p><p><em>WHERE ARE YOU!?</em> she started to panic, fear crawling across her mind like a spider settling into its web. For a moment, she saw a black cloak laying face down on the road, a spear imbedded in the man’s stomach. Terror shredded her heart momentarily, till a light in the gloom showed her that it was the face of a normal man that stared unseeing into the heavens.</p><p></p><p>“Hey! You!” she heard a voice snarl, and her mind jumped in surprise. <em>Light... here? In the road filled with the dead... Dammit!</em> Her eyes caught a brief glimpse of a torch, and dark figures silhouetted in its orange glow, before she spun her horse around. She felt a rush of air slash along the side of her face, and the snap of an arrow impacting a tree behind her. “Stop!” voices called, as she spurred her horse on.</p><p></p><p><em>This road is too obvious... they’ll be able to see me from a hundred feet off!</em> She spun her horse to the left, off the clear road and into the woods. Ducking and weaving, she avoided the low branches and boughs that lashed at her from seeming nowhere. She zigged and zagged, desperately hoping her trail would go cold.</p><p></p><p>After a few minutes, she reined up her horse, and halted, listening. Off in the distance, she heard the crashing of underbrush, as well as faint shouts. She thought she was safe, until a few minutes later, she heard a loud groan, very close to her... and very familiar to her.</p><p></p><p>“Royukgan?” she whispered. Even as her heart soared, her hand clamped on the hilt of her rapier. <em>If it is one of them, I mustn’t let him cry out!</em> She heard another groan, followed by a sharp hiss.</p><p></p><p>“Who… are you? No… Prince… of Han… has…ah… been taken… alive, and I… shall not be… the first!” the voice rasped slowly, and she heard leaves whish and branches snap as he stood. Not more than ten feet away she could see him, standing in the shadows. He was rocking lazily, looking as if the slightest of breezes would tumble him over.</p><p></p><p>In the blink of an eye, she was off of her mount, and grabbing him fiercely. “I thought I’d lost you! Oh... you poor thing!” she cooed, holding him out to try and get a look at him. It was then she noticed her hands were wet, and she gingerly felt along the middle of his back. To her alarm, there was a large spot where his tunic was sticky.</p><p></p><p><em>Blood!</em> she thought in worry. “Don’t worry!” she whispered, clasping him tight again, “Don’t worry! Your Vin will see you back safely!”</p><p></p><p>Up till this point, Royukgan had been silent in stunned shock. His eyes glowed slightly, as was their part feline nature... and the orbs seemed massive in the dark. He was confused, and finally in the midst of her second embrace, he sputtered her name in surprise.</p><p></p><p>“I...I’m fine,” she heard him say, just before she heard a slight hiss come from his lips. She pulled him closer to her mount, worry dancing in her unseen eyes.</p><p></p><p>“Can you ride?”</p><p></p><p>“Not well,” she heard him admit, grunting more than speaking, “They hit my leg as well... but I can try.” Carefully, she tried to help him up on the mount, only to hear him give a slight cry when his weight fell on his foot in the stirrups. He slid backwards onto the ground with an ignominious <em>thud</em>.</p><p></p><p><em>What do I do? He can’t mount!</em> For several seconds she stood in fearful panic, the noise of the men searching the forest growing ever so louder. They were working their way in the direction of the Princess and her friend.</p><p></p><p>“Stand,” she whispered, helping the prince to his feet. She slid till her shoulder was underneath his left thigh, and hissed for him to try to mount again. “I’ll push up, so your leg doesn’t have to push so hard!” She heard a grunt and a muffled protest, but soon she could just barely see his foot in the stirrup again.</p><p></p><p>“One... two... three...” she counted quietly, before pushing upwards. She gave a grunt of exertion, which matched his of pain. She slowly rose higher, her legs pushing, until she felt his left leg slide over the animals back, presumably to the other side, for he didn’t slide off this time. Quickly, she clambered on behind him, and grabbing the reins, spurred her horse back towards the south-east... towards home. </p><p></p><p>The entire ride, she had time to look at his wound, and worry rose even higher in her mind. The wound was large and ugly, obvious a deep stab from a broadheaded spear. A large gash in his tunic was rent, leaving the wound angry and open. </p><p></p><p>She winced, her Academy mind realizing what this entailed... parts of his clothing were likely imbedded deep in the flesh, and would need to be fished out, otherwise festering and infection would set in. It took little imagination to shudder even thinking about the pain such a procedure would cause.</p><p></p><p>As they bobbed, the horse cantering slower because of the extra weight, her eyes were caught watching his right leg, the shaft of an arrow coming from its slightly quivering form. Vintressa closed her eyes, and whispered a short prayer as the hushed voices of her own men approached her.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Harrapias’ eyes closed, as he absorbed the last of the pre-dawn silence within the large sanctuary of the temple he was charged. To his ears, the silence that hung in the air was precious beyond all of the gold, silver, and gemstones that decorated the statues and icons.</p><p></p><p>It was at this time, so early in the morning, where he could focus, and it seemed like there was nothing that separated him from his faith. No bookkeeping, no wayward acolytes to discipline back into the fold, no reports from paladins to listen to, no wayward traveler’s who needed healing. </p><p></p><p>Because of this, he was immensely annoyed when he heard the stiff, military clip of boots striding down the long nave of the main temple, growing louder as the person approached. Harrapias closed his eyes tighter, hoping the boots would move on, past him, so he could focus on his god. Instead, he heard the boots come to a halt, probably only feet behind him.</p><p></p><p>His concentration finally disturbed, the priest opened his eyes. <em>I left express orders to not be disturbed. If I am to be disturbed, Lord of Valor, then hopefully it is something important enough to justify it.</em> He turned slowly, and what annoyance filled his heart sank away when he saw the face of the young man in front of him.</p><p></p><p>On normal days, the paladin would have cut an imposing figure. The young man, Harrapias thought his name was Thurgil, was a brand new admittee to the ranks of the brotherhood, was a young man... barely twenty or twenty-five. His gilt armor was still new, and the sword by his side was undoubtedly sharp and keen. Instead of a fiery warrior of righteousness, Harrapias saw a scared boy.</p><p></p><p>“What is it, my child?” the priest asked. <em>I’m not so sure of his name now... is it Thurgil, or Thengil?</em> “You look as if you have seen a ghost!”</p><p></p><p>The paladin swallowed hard, and with a shaky bow, held out to the priest a small piece of paper. “A summary of a body discovered by the City Watch earlier tonight. It might be of-“</p><p></p><p>Harrapias’ eyes latched onto the florid writing, taking in the details. The first part of the note, written clearly in the hand of the Captain of the Watch, detailed the body of a young boy had been discovered. It had been rotting for several days, and it was easy to see the boy had died from a small but extremely deep stab wound in the back of his head. </p><p></p><p>Immediately, the martial part of Harrapias’ mind worked into gear. <em>A dagger? That dimension...</em> he reread the description of the wound, <em>No... at least, not a dagger I am familiar with...</em></p><p></p><p>As his mind wrestled with that problem, he continued reading. <em>Why does this bear my personal watching? A murder on the streets is heinous, but Thungil here could have handeled...</em></p><p></p><p>He stopped, and backtracked over the section that had caught his eye.</p><p></p><p><em>”In a grate near the young man was found a rather unusual ring. It had a ruby at its center, with a dragon’s mouth agape on either side. One mouth held a sapphire, the other a diamond. A request to the Jeweler’s Guild revealed this ring is exceedingly rare... only five have been made. Four belonged to the Emperor, Empress, the Crown Prince, and the Princess Vintressa. The fifth was made at the Crown Prince’s request for his manservant... one Hemmel Manquiris... currently a brigand wanted for treason in the recent plot against Her Majesty...</em></p><p></p><p><em>That</em> changed everything. Harrapias had heard all about the plot... far more than many of the upper crust in Kulloden even. The official story spoke of how an assassin had tried to draw blades on the Empress, and had been badly wounded before escaping. Harrapias, as one of the ranking members of the church the Empress personally attended to, knew the full story.</p><p></p><p><em>So he is here, then...</em> the paper was released from his grip, fluttering to the floor. It made sense now... an assassin good enough to, at least temporarily, best the vaunted Empress with a blade was someone dangerous indeed. Someone that the mightiest warriors in the land might be needed to stop.</p><p></p><p>Harrapias looked at the young paladin, and gave him a tense smile. “Report to the temple praetor. He is to ring the bell of muster. Then, report to the mustering grounds, and await my arrival.” The young man bowed, his form not shaking as much at the priest’s precise orders.</p><p></p><p>Harrapias then picked up the paper again, and rose from his kneeling position. His knees gave a crack, a grumble at this movement, protests the priest was used to. <em>I am growing too old for this,</em> part of his mind mumbled. For all his devotion to the God of Valor, Harrapias was no fool, and he realized that his body had seen fifty-eight winters. </p><p></p><p>The priest in simple robes was soon out in the cool morning darkness, walking briskly, if stiffly, towards his quarters. <em>I fear this is going to be my last campaign, My Righteousness,</em> he prayed silently. <em>Give my arms the strength to wield my blade as much as it needs wielding... to safeguard His Highness and banish evil from Thy sight...</em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Emperor Valerian, post: 1695389, member: 15043"] And you missed the update by about 20 minutes... :) And I knew you were reading it... you were the one that asked me to keep writing! :-p = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = “Royukgan!” Vintressa called in the darkness, despite the proximity of the enemy. Her only answer was the moans from the wounded laying all about her, some cut, many burned. She reined her horse up, fearful thoughts dancing in her head. [i]What if he is laying on the ground, and my horse steps on him?![/i] Her eyes scanned the bodies laying about even more feverishly. Slowly she made her way further, her ears ignoring the groans of the wounded, and instead searching for a whisper, a familiar groan. She heard none... and saw nothing like him… no black cloaks, only body after body in the lighter shades of their enemies liveries. For another twenty minutes she cantered onward in the darkness. [i]WHERE ARE YOU!?[/i] she started to panic, fear crawling across her mind like a spider settling into its web. For a moment, she saw a black cloak laying face down on the road, a spear imbedded in the man’s stomach. Terror shredded her heart momentarily, till a light in the gloom showed her that it was the face of a normal man that stared unseeing into the heavens. “Hey! You!” she heard a voice snarl, and her mind jumped in surprise. [i]Light... here? In the road filled with the dead... Dammit![/i] Her eyes caught a brief glimpse of a torch, and dark figures silhouetted in its orange glow, before she spun her horse around. She felt a rush of air slash along the side of her face, and the snap of an arrow impacting a tree behind her. “Stop!” voices called, as she spurred her horse on. [i]This road is too obvious... they’ll be able to see me from a hundred feet off![/i] She spun her horse to the left, off the clear road and into the woods. Ducking and weaving, she avoided the low branches and boughs that lashed at her from seeming nowhere. She zigged and zagged, desperately hoping her trail would go cold. After a few minutes, she reined up her horse, and halted, listening. Off in the distance, she heard the crashing of underbrush, as well as faint shouts. She thought she was safe, until a few minutes later, she heard a loud groan, very close to her... and very familiar to her. “Royukgan?” she whispered. Even as her heart soared, her hand clamped on the hilt of her rapier. [i]If it is one of them, I mustn’t let him cry out![/i] She heard another groan, followed by a sharp hiss. “Who… are you? No… Prince… of Han… has…ah… been taken… alive, and I… shall not be… the first!” the voice rasped slowly, and she heard leaves whish and branches snap as he stood. Not more than ten feet away she could see him, standing in the shadows. He was rocking lazily, looking as if the slightest of breezes would tumble him over. In the blink of an eye, she was off of her mount, and grabbing him fiercely. “I thought I’d lost you! Oh... you poor thing!” she cooed, holding him out to try and get a look at him. It was then she noticed her hands were wet, and she gingerly felt along the middle of his back. To her alarm, there was a large spot where his tunic was sticky. [i]Blood![/i] she thought in worry. “Don’t worry!” she whispered, clasping him tight again, “Don’t worry! Your Vin will see you back safely!” Up till this point, Royukgan had been silent in stunned shock. His eyes glowed slightly, as was their part feline nature... and the orbs seemed massive in the dark. He was confused, and finally in the midst of her second embrace, he sputtered her name in surprise. “I...I’m fine,” she heard him say, just before she heard a slight hiss come from his lips. She pulled him closer to her mount, worry dancing in her unseen eyes. “Can you ride?” “Not well,” she heard him admit, grunting more than speaking, “They hit my leg as well... but I can try.” Carefully, she tried to help him up on the mount, only to hear him give a slight cry when his weight fell on his foot in the stirrups. He slid backwards onto the ground with an ignominious [i]thud[/i]. [i]What do I do? He can’t mount![/i] For several seconds she stood in fearful panic, the noise of the men searching the forest growing ever so louder. They were working their way in the direction of the Princess and her friend. “Stand,” she whispered, helping the prince to his feet. She slid till her shoulder was underneath his left thigh, and hissed for him to try to mount again. “I’ll push up, so your leg doesn’t have to push so hard!” She heard a grunt and a muffled protest, but soon she could just barely see his foot in the stirrup again. “One... two... three...” she counted quietly, before pushing upwards. She gave a grunt of exertion, which matched his of pain. She slowly rose higher, her legs pushing, until she felt his left leg slide over the animals back, presumably to the other side, for he didn’t slide off this time. Quickly, she clambered on behind him, and grabbing the reins, spurred her horse back towards the south-east... towards home. The entire ride, she had time to look at his wound, and worry rose even higher in her mind. The wound was large and ugly, obvious a deep stab from a broadheaded spear. A large gash in his tunic was rent, leaving the wound angry and open. She winced, her Academy mind realizing what this entailed... parts of his clothing were likely imbedded deep in the flesh, and would need to be fished out, otherwise festering and infection would set in. It took little imagination to shudder even thinking about the pain such a procedure would cause. As they bobbed, the horse cantering slower because of the extra weight, her eyes were caught watching his right leg, the shaft of an arrow coming from its slightly quivering form. Vintressa closed her eyes, and whispered a short prayer as the hushed voices of her own men approached her. Harrapias’ eyes closed, as he absorbed the last of the pre-dawn silence within the large sanctuary of the temple he was charged. To his ears, the silence that hung in the air was precious beyond all of the gold, silver, and gemstones that decorated the statues and icons. It was at this time, so early in the morning, where he could focus, and it seemed like there was nothing that separated him from his faith. No bookkeeping, no wayward acolytes to discipline back into the fold, no reports from paladins to listen to, no wayward traveler’s who needed healing. Because of this, he was immensely annoyed when he heard the stiff, military clip of boots striding down the long nave of the main temple, growing louder as the person approached. Harrapias closed his eyes tighter, hoping the boots would move on, past him, so he could focus on his god. Instead, he heard the boots come to a halt, probably only feet behind him. His concentration finally disturbed, the priest opened his eyes. [i]I left express orders to not be disturbed. If I am to be disturbed, Lord of Valor, then hopefully it is something important enough to justify it.[/i] He turned slowly, and what annoyance filled his heart sank away when he saw the face of the young man in front of him. On normal days, the paladin would have cut an imposing figure. The young man, Harrapias thought his name was Thurgil, was a brand new admittee to the ranks of the brotherhood, was a young man... barely twenty or twenty-five. His gilt armor was still new, and the sword by his side was undoubtedly sharp and keen. Instead of a fiery warrior of righteousness, Harrapias saw a scared boy. “What is it, my child?” the priest asked. [i]I’m not so sure of his name now... is it Thurgil, or Thengil?[/i] “You look as if you have seen a ghost!” The paladin swallowed hard, and with a shaky bow, held out to the priest a small piece of paper. “A summary of a body discovered by the City Watch earlier tonight. It might be of-“ Harrapias’ eyes latched onto the florid writing, taking in the details. The first part of the note, written clearly in the hand of the Captain of the Watch, detailed the body of a young boy had been discovered. It had been rotting for several days, and it was easy to see the boy had died from a small but extremely deep stab wound in the back of his head. Immediately, the martial part of Harrapias’ mind worked into gear. [i]A dagger? That dimension...[/i] he reread the description of the wound, [i]No... at least, not a dagger I am familiar with...[/i] As his mind wrestled with that problem, he continued reading. [i]Why does this bear my personal watching? A murder on the streets is heinous, but Thungil here could have handeled...[/i] He stopped, and backtracked over the section that had caught his eye. [i]”In a grate near the young man was found a rather unusual ring. It had a ruby at its center, with a dragon’s mouth agape on either side. One mouth held a sapphire, the other a diamond. A request to the Jeweler’s Guild revealed this ring is exceedingly rare... only five have been made. Four belonged to the Emperor, Empress, the Crown Prince, and the Princess Vintressa. The fifth was made at the Crown Prince’s request for his manservant... one Hemmel Manquiris... currently a brigand wanted for treason in the recent plot against Her Majesty...[/i] [i]That[/i] changed everything. Harrapias had heard all about the plot... far more than many of the upper crust in Kulloden even. The official story spoke of how an assassin had tried to draw blades on the Empress, and had been badly wounded before escaping. Harrapias, as one of the ranking members of the church the Empress personally attended to, knew the full story. [i]So he is here, then...[/i] the paper was released from his grip, fluttering to the floor. It made sense now... an assassin good enough to, at least temporarily, best the vaunted Empress with a blade was someone dangerous indeed. Someone that the mightiest warriors in the land might be needed to stop. Harrapias looked at the young paladin, and gave him a tense smile. “Report to the temple praetor. He is to ring the bell of muster. Then, report to the mustering grounds, and await my arrival.” The young man bowed, his form not shaking as much at the priest’s precise orders. Harrapias then picked up the paper again, and rose from his kneeling position. His knees gave a crack, a grumble at this movement, protests the priest was used to. [i]I am growing too old for this,[/i] part of his mind mumbled. For all his devotion to the God of Valor, Harrapias was no fool, and he realized that his body had seen fifty-eight winters. The priest in simple robes was soon out in the cool morning darkness, walking briskly, if stiffly, towards his quarters. [i]I fear this is going to be my last campaign, My Righteousness,[/i] he prayed silently. [i]Give my arms the strength to wield my blade as much as it needs wielding... to safeguard His Highness and banish evil from Thy sight...[/i] [/QUOTE]
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