[Rise] The Dance of Banners
Dec 22, 2017 10:40:32 GMT -6
Post by Klaykid on Dec 22, 2017 10:40:32 GMT -6
Just a little thing I've been playing around with. As usual with anything I do, don't expect much or constant/consistent updates.
Ossus Mountains
Kingdom of Ossyria
The Princess' Chambers
The valley below the mountains were lovely this time of year. One could look through any of their windows and see the entire Valley of Kings as it stretched to the horizon. The onset of spring brought fresh shades of green to the trees that blanketed the sides of the mountains, and the river that ran in the valley was as blue as the skies above. A princess stood on the balcony, a thick coat draped over her shoulders, a silver necklace hung from her neck depicting an ossifrage in flight. Her blue eyes glanced at the horizon where the sky met the world, and her raven black hair flowed gently in the cool mountain breeze. She was beautiful, a petite frame hidden underneath layers of winter clothing. This was her favorite time of year when the mountain flowers bloomed bringing wonderful colors to the landscape.
“Your Highness, are you ready?” came a voice behind her.
The princess turned her head to glance over at the knight behind her, a tall man with olive skin and shining black armor studded with bones. His helmet, metal with a ram's skull adorned to it, hung from his hand at his side. He was not a handsome man by far, for a few of his features were far too large for his face. But the princess did not mind. It was those imperfections that warmed her heart when she gazed upon him. She walked to her knight and held his free hand within hers. His hands were always so cold from him being out in the field, and it bothered her from time to time. However, the heat of her own hands warmed his in seconds and she could finally feel the rough texture of his palms.
“Abraham, stop it. You don't need to use honorifics with me. Not when we're in private.”
Her hands went up to his face and caressed the side of his head. His hair wild and untamed, large curls forming like massive ocean waves crashing against sandy shores, and his sharp brown eyes stared into her own with a fine passion. His face blushed a bit and he looked away for a moment, embarrassed to stare at his secret lover for too long. Her fingertips brushed against his cheek and followed the lining of his jaw down to his neck. She grabbed the collar of his armor and pulled him close to her, their lips meeting in a deep kiss. Autumn smiled brightly and chuckled when Abraham, once again, turned away from her.
“You may be a warrior, but you are weak when it comes to this stuff,” she laughed.
Abraham swallowed his pride as a warrior and looked to both his princess and his lover with a malformed smile. Autumn frowned and pulled his mouth from side to side contorting his facial features into funny visages.
“Stop forcing yourself. You are more handsome when your smiles come naturally.”
She leaned in and kissed his forehead. This time his smile came naturally. It was like the warmth of the morning sun, the coolness of fresh dew upon the leaves of trees, and the smell of oncoming winter winds down in the Southern Plains. It was through his smile she heard the song of his heart. Their love was strong but never meant to be. Her destiny was always marriage to a royal in order to strengthen the kingdom. And Abraham, himself, was destined to die in service of his kingdom or marry a noblewoman and live out his days in mediocrity. But no one believes in destiny anymore.
“Wish we could stay here, truly do, but the king's expectin' to see ya' off today.”
Autumn sighed and rubbed her temples briefly. Her father was always a worrier and doted on her from day to night. But she both loved and hated this quality about him. To the others, he was King Randal of House Lesedi, Lord of the Southern Kingdoms, Guardian of the Mountain Pass. To Autumn, he was simply 'father'. Autumn nodded her head and motioned for Abraham to lead the way. Her knight adorned his helmet and opened the door to her chambers that led out into a grand hallway.
The Empire
Olm'Urld
Emperor's Palace
He was old. One day he was the young Emperor of Olm'Urld, standing tall in his shining green and black armor, protecting the realm from the creatures that threaten human lives, the unifier of kingdoms, and the Emperor that saw the most growth of the Empire in all her years of existence. But one day he looked too closely in the mirror and saw his true self. His eyes lacked the vibrant color of youth, skin wrinkled resembling the contours of crumpled parchment, hair turned white reflecting fresh snow, bones and joints creaking like an old rocking chair, his words were not as strong as they once were and could barely reach the end of his council chamber, and his memory slowly failed him as the days passed. To recall a memory from yesterday was like trying to reach far into the past, wading through a sea of nothingness, fighting against an all too powerful current. The Emperor was terrified.
But there was a way to prolong his life. Or so he heard. How ironic that he sought help from the very same entities his forefathers fought against so long ago. It stepped out of thin air as if it was simply brushing passed a silk curtain. Its form was hideous, offensive to all the senses, and was barely comprehensible, but Emperor Mathias of House Longfellow was a strong man. He stared down the creature with fierce eyes and never moved from his seat. He would get what he wanted even if he had to pull this abomination apart by its... whatever.
“Forgive me...” it spoke. Its voice was strained with many tones, as if a thousand voices were speaking all at once. “I have not... communicated this way... much.”
The creature, sporting wings, writhing tendrils, and multiple legs, looked around with curiosity, even if it was not apparent in its body language it was obvious in how it interacted with objects around the room.
“This is the state of this realm? Primitive. Even more so than the last few. Tell me... Longfellow... is it immortality you seek?”
“How did you know?” asked Longfellow.
“The realms may change but the beings never do. I have watched you, many instances of you, thrive for the same goal but could never touch it. Like an ape reaching out to the stars. Perhaps you may be different.”
Longfellow was not pleased. Monster or not, he was the Emperor, ruler of the strongest nation that ever existed in human history. And he will not be talked down to by such a lowly creature. The Emperor rose from his seat and slammed his wrinkled hands upon the table in front of him. His personal guard, the Gentlemen who stood at either side of him, pulled their swords and faced the creature. But the monster showed no suggestion that it was intimidated.
“My apologies, Your Grace. I misspoke, ha ha ha. Immortality is but a step away, closer than ever before, especially in this realm. You may be the first of your image to attain it. I am surprised for once. Ha ha ha. Your flesh is wrought with age, your bones brittle, and your mind failing. How does it feel, Your Grace, to know the end is but a stone's throw away?”
“Enough, you miserable creature! I grow sick of your appearance in this court. Reveal to me your secrets or I will have you crushed underneath ten times your weight in iron!”
“Forgive me, Your Grace. To attain what you seek a great sacrifice is necessary. Souls of many, the blood of innocents, the lion which devours the sun, and the stone that traps a great power to this realm.”
The emperor leaned in and listened closely. Soon he will go beyond that of a God.
The Gilded Skywatch
They called him the Burned Man. A moniker that was a little annoying to have but completely understandable as to why. His entire body was charred and deformed from the injuries he sustained fighting Commandant Fury of the Hydra League. Each time the name was spoken he relived nearly burning to death with Fury staring at him with those indifferent eyes. That was the worst part of that memory. Not the everlasting pain in his body or the look of his deformed skin. It was the uncaring look in his eyes, like a man stepping upon an ant, or a grain of sand traveling through the wind.
He wore an all black suit underneath with a covering over his head and face. Gloves hid away his hands, and an impressive suit of armor protected his body. He always wore that damn helmet over his head with the faceplate down, even in the presence of the Emperor he refused to reveal his face. The man of the Black Scorpion, Ray of House Shishigami, was the Empire's most prized sellsword. A man who lives up to the dangerous reputation that precedes him. When the Emperor directly requested his services, it meant there was a matter of great importance.
“Irene, do you have an idea why we were summoned here?” asked Ray. His squire, who usually knew more than her knight when it came to the day's events, did not know why the Emperor had summoned them. Usually, they were handled by a military officer when their assignments were given. But to be called straight to the Emperor's Palace is an occasion all too rare for this to be a simple matter. Irene nodded her head and motioned towards the entrance on the far side of them where a man without armor stood.
He was a man with average height, average complexion, and a mustache that could be seen on the faces of many of the Empire's citizens. His clothes were simple, unarmored, holding the Empire's colors, and a cane was held in his left hand. To anyone seeing this man would have assumed him to be a simple assistant to the Emperor. But not Ray. Ray saw things that many would have ignored. The man did not rest any weight upon this cane and it was much thicker than normal walking sticks. His eyes was always on the prowl with simple movements, observing everything about Ray and his squire Irene. Then it became clear who this man was. He was a Gentleman.
They were never seen for too long and their numbers truly unknown. The Gentlemen were the personal bodyguards to the Emperor who took their orders from King Mathias Longfellow himself. Their skills unmatched in all of the Empire's territory and their weapons hidden behind every cut of cloth and every heel of their boots. They were assassins, guardsmen, shock troopers, and-
“Apparently they're messengers,” chuckled Ray.
The Gentleman twirled his impressive mustache and stared down Ray and his squire.
“Syr SHOE-SHI-GIMME, pleasure to have you here,” he spoke. His words were hollow and held no emotion. “Why so tense? Don't tell me... that you are wary of my intentions.”
“Distrustful would be a better word,” replied Ray callously.
“There is no need to be cautious Syr SAW-SHEE-GAMI. As long as you remain loyal to the Empire you have nothing to worry about.”
“And as long as I am paid what I am due, the Emperor has nothing to worry from me.”
Sensing the growing tension, Irene cut in between the two, her face void of emotion, silver eyes forcing silence from both Ray and the Gentleman.
“Master, you have already been compensated by the Empire for this mission. Triple your usual fee. We are here simply to receive details about your assignment and nothing more. Please refrain from doing anything unnecessary.”
Ray sighed and relented to his squire. She acted more like his assistant than anything else. Other times it felt like she was more knowledgeable than him, and was more of a manager than someone to be trained. You could be the deadliest knight in all of the Golden Continent, but you could fall prey to a girl with a sharp glare and round glasses.
“Right. Well then, there is a reason it is just the two of us. Three. Those nations in the south have been growing ever arrogant as their strength rises. The Kingdom of Ossyria and the the Tyran Monarchy have outgrown their borders. They both will likely seek to expand their horizons past the Mountain Pass.”
The gentleman motioned for Ray and Irene to observe a map placed upon the large table in the center of the room. His fingers traced a path from the Mountain Pass to a tall mountain, Peak Zenith.
“The Whispers tell me many things. Many things regarding the Novian shipyard and its defenses. The Emperor wishes for you to... investigate a particular ship.”
Ray was taken aback. The Empire and the kingdoms in the south always shared a formal trade treaty. Why would the Emperor wish to attack his allies to the south? Thinking deeply about this situation, it would not make sense to come into conflict with the Ossyrians. They were protected by the natural barrier of the Ossus Mountains and their allies, the Novians, held a massive navy of airships and sea vessels. The Empire would come out on top, as they always did, but the losses would be tremendous. It would be a pointless war that would last decades. But the Emperor knew that.
“The Emperor does not want a war with the southerners. But he does want a conflict to happen. Between who?” asked Irene.
“With the Tyrans,” answered Ray. The gentleman was impressed with how fast Ray came to the correct conclusion.
The Tyrans were the only kingdom with the strength and allies that rivaled Ossyria and her own allies. A war in the south between those two nations would spell the end of their upcoming empire. And the Empire would be able to reap the benefits once the smoke and ash was clear. Southerners were always a stubborn and prideful people. They would rather slit their throats than to bow their heads to a northern king.
“Years of peace have made the Ossyrians weak and complacent. The Whispers told me something interesting. Princess Autumn rides with a compliment of Deathstalkers to Termina. Just that and nothing more.”
“Deathstalkers? You can't expect me to face them by myself.”
“And you wont. Another sellsword will be taking over that mission. A man with a reputation almost as legendary as your own.”
“Axel Fucking Erachin.”
“Oh? Excellent guess!”
Ray's mind burned with the thought of seeing his rival once more. But the thought, the very idea that the two of them would be working together brought about an intense feeling in his heart. It was a hungry anticipation that yearned to be fed.
One
87 AF, Era of the Golden Empire
Ossus Mountains
Kingdom of Ossyria
The Princess' Chambers
The valley below the mountains were lovely this time of year. One could look through any of their windows and see the entire Valley of Kings as it stretched to the horizon. The onset of spring brought fresh shades of green to the trees that blanketed the sides of the mountains, and the river that ran in the valley was as blue as the skies above. A princess stood on the balcony, a thick coat draped over her shoulders, a silver necklace hung from her neck depicting an ossifrage in flight. Her blue eyes glanced at the horizon where the sky met the world, and her raven black hair flowed gently in the cool mountain breeze. She was beautiful, a petite frame hidden underneath layers of winter clothing. This was her favorite time of year when the mountain flowers bloomed bringing wonderful colors to the landscape.
“Your Highness, are you ready?” came a voice behind her.
The princess turned her head to glance over at the knight behind her, a tall man with olive skin and shining black armor studded with bones. His helmet, metal with a ram's skull adorned to it, hung from his hand at his side. He was not a handsome man by far, for a few of his features were far too large for his face. But the princess did not mind. It was those imperfections that warmed her heart when she gazed upon him. She walked to her knight and held his free hand within hers. His hands were always so cold from him being out in the field, and it bothered her from time to time. However, the heat of her own hands warmed his in seconds and she could finally feel the rough texture of his palms.
“Abraham, stop it. You don't need to use honorifics with me. Not when we're in private.”
Her hands went up to his face and caressed the side of his head. His hair wild and untamed, large curls forming like massive ocean waves crashing against sandy shores, and his sharp brown eyes stared into her own with a fine passion. His face blushed a bit and he looked away for a moment, embarrassed to stare at his secret lover for too long. Her fingertips brushed against his cheek and followed the lining of his jaw down to his neck. She grabbed the collar of his armor and pulled him close to her, their lips meeting in a deep kiss. Autumn smiled brightly and chuckled when Abraham, once again, turned away from her.
“You may be a warrior, but you are weak when it comes to this stuff,” she laughed.
Abraham swallowed his pride as a warrior and looked to both his princess and his lover with a malformed smile. Autumn frowned and pulled his mouth from side to side contorting his facial features into funny visages.
“Stop forcing yourself. You are more handsome when your smiles come naturally.”
She leaned in and kissed his forehead. This time his smile came naturally. It was like the warmth of the morning sun, the coolness of fresh dew upon the leaves of trees, and the smell of oncoming winter winds down in the Southern Plains. It was through his smile she heard the song of his heart. Their love was strong but never meant to be. Her destiny was always marriage to a royal in order to strengthen the kingdom. And Abraham, himself, was destined to die in service of his kingdom or marry a noblewoman and live out his days in mediocrity. But no one believes in destiny anymore.
“Wish we could stay here, truly do, but the king's expectin' to see ya' off today.”
Autumn sighed and rubbed her temples briefly. Her father was always a worrier and doted on her from day to night. But she both loved and hated this quality about him. To the others, he was King Randal of House Lesedi, Lord of the Southern Kingdoms, Guardian of the Mountain Pass. To Autumn, he was simply 'father'. Autumn nodded her head and motioned for Abraham to lead the way. Her knight adorned his helmet and opened the door to her chambers that led out into a grand hallway.
The Empire
Olm'Urld
Emperor's Palace
He was old. One day he was the young Emperor of Olm'Urld, standing tall in his shining green and black armor, protecting the realm from the creatures that threaten human lives, the unifier of kingdoms, and the Emperor that saw the most growth of the Empire in all her years of existence. But one day he looked too closely in the mirror and saw his true self. His eyes lacked the vibrant color of youth, skin wrinkled resembling the contours of crumpled parchment, hair turned white reflecting fresh snow, bones and joints creaking like an old rocking chair, his words were not as strong as they once were and could barely reach the end of his council chamber, and his memory slowly failed him as the days passed. To recall a memory from yesterday was like trying to reach far into the past, wading through a sea of nothingness, fighting against an all too powerful current. The Emperor was terrified.
But there was a way to prolong his life. Or so he heard. How ironic that he sought help from the very same entities his forefathers fought against so long ago. It stepped out of thin air as if it was simply brushing passed a silk curtain. Its form was hideous, offensive to all the senses, and was barely comprehensible, but Emperor Mathias of House Longfellow was a strong man. He stared down the creature with fierce eyes and never moved from his seat. He would get what he wanted even if he had to pull this abomination apart by its... whatever.
“Forgive me...” it spoke. Its voice was strained with many tones, as if a thousand voices were speaking all at once. “I have not... communicated this way... much.”
The creature, sporting wings, writhing tendrils, and multiple legs, looked around with curiosity, even if it was not apparent in its body language it was obvious in how it interacted with objects around the room.
“This is the state of this realm? Primitive. Even more so than the last few. Tell me... Longfellow... is it immortality you seek?”
“How did you know?” asked Longfellow.
“The realms may change but the beings never do. I have watched you, many instances of you, thrive for the same goal but could never touch it. Like an ape reaching out to the stars. Perhaps you may be different.”
Longfellow was not pleased. Monster or not, he was the Emperor, ruler of the strongest nation that ever existed in human history. And he will not be talked down to by such a lowly creature. The Emperor rose from his seat and slammed his wrinkled hands upon the table in front of him. His personal guard, the Gentlemen who stood at either side of him, pulled their swords and faced the creature. But the monster showed no suggestion that it was intimidated.
“My apologies, Your Grace. I misspoke, ha ha ha. Immortality is but a step away, closer than ever before, especially in this realm. You may be the first of your image to attain it. I am surprised for once. Ha ha ha. Your flesh is wrought with age, your bones brittle, and your mind failing. How does it feel, Your Grace, to know the end is but a stone's throw away?”
“Enough, you miserable creature! I grow sick of your appearance in this court. Reveal to me your secrets or I will have you crushed underneath ten times your weight in iron!”
“Forgive me, Your Grace. To attain what you seek a great sacrifice is necessary. Souls of many, the blood of innocents, the lion which devours the sun, and the stone that traps a great power to this realm.”
The emperor leaned in and listened closely. Soon he will go beyond that of a God.
The Gilded Skywatch
They called him the Burned Man. A moniker that was a little annoying to have but completely understandable as to why. His entire body was charred and deformed from the injuries he sustained fighting Commandant Fury of the Hydra League. Each time the name was spoken he relived nearly burning to death with Fury staring at him with those indifferent eyes. That was the worst part of that memory. Not the everlasting pain in his body or the look of his deformed skin. It was the uncaring look in his eyes, like a man stepping upon an ant, or a grain of sand traveling through the wind.
He wore an all black suit underneath with a covering over his head and face. Gloves hid away his hands, and an impressive suit of armor protected his body. He always wore that damn helmet over his head with the faceplate down, even in the presence of the Emperor he refused to reveal his face. The man of the Black Scorpion, Ray of House Shishigami, was the Empire's most prized sellsword. A man who lives up to the dangerous reputation that precedes him. When the Emperor directly requested his services, it meant there was a matter of great importance.
“Irene, do you have an idea why we were summoned here?” asked Ray. His squire, who usually knew more than her knight when it came to the day's events, did not know why the Emperor had summoned them. Usually, they were handled by a military officer when their assignments were given. But to be called straight to the Emperor's Palace is an occasion all too rare for this to be a simple matter. Irene nodded her head and motioned towards the entrance on the far side of them where a man without armor stood.
He was a man with average height, average complexion, and a mustache that could be seen on the faces of many of the Empire's citizens. His clothes were simple, unarmored, holding the Empire's colors, and a cane was held in his left hand. To anyone seeing this man would have assumed him to be a simple assistant to the Emperor. But not Ray. Ray saw things that many would have ignored. The man did not rest any weight upon this cane and it was much thicker than normal walking sticks. His eyes was always on the prowl with simple movements, observing everything about Ray and his squire Irene. Then it became clear who this man was. He was a Gentleman.
They were never seen for too long and their numbers truly unknown. The Gentlemen were the personal bodyguards to the Emperor who took their orders from King Mathias Longfellow himself. Their skills unmatched in all of the Empire's territory and their weapons hidden behind every cut of cloth and every heel of their boots. They were assassins, guardsmen, shock troopers, and-
“Apparently they're messengers,” chuckled Ray.
The Gentleman twirled his impressive mustache and stared down Ray and his squire.
“Syr SHOE-SHI-GIMME, pleasure to have you here,” he spoke. His words were hollow and held no emotion. “Why so tense? Don't tell me... that you are wary of my intentions.”
“Distrustful would be a better word,” replied Ray callously.
“There is no need to be cautious Syr SAW-SHEE-GAMI. As long as you remain loyal to the Empire you have nothing to worry about.”
“And as long as I am paid what I am due, the Emperor has nothing to worry from me.”
Sensing the growing tension, Irene cut in between the two, her face void of emotion, silver eyes forcing silence from both Ray and the Gentleman.
“Master, you have already been compensated by the Empire for this mission. Triple your usual fee. We are here simply to receive details about your assignment and nothing more. Please refrain from doing anything unnecessary.”
Ray sighed and relented to his squire. She acted more like his assistant than anything else. Other times it felt like she was more knowledgeable than him, and was more of a manager than someone to be trained. You could be the deadliest knight in all of the Golden Continent, but you could fall prey to a girl with a sharp glare and round glasses.
“Right. Well then, there is a reason it is just the two of us. Three. Those nations in the south have been growing ever arrogant as their strength rises. The Kingdom of Ossyria and the the Tyran Monarchy have outgrown their borders. They both will likely seek to expand their horizons past the Mountain Pass.”
The gentleman motioned for Ray and Irene to observe a map placed upon the large table in the center of the room. His fingers traced a path from the Mountain Pass to a tall mountain, Peak Zenith.
“The Whispers tell me many things. Many things regarding the Novian shipyard and its defenses. The Emperor wishes for you to... investigate a particular ship.”
Ray was taken aback. The Empire and the kingdoms in the south always shared a formal trade treaty. Why would the Emperor wish to attack his allies to the south? Thinking deeply about this situation, it would not make sense to come into conflict with the Ossyrians. They were protected by the natural barrier of the Ossus Mountains and their allies, the Novians, held a massive navy of airships and sea vessels. The Empire would come out on top, as they always did, but the losses would be tremendous. It would be a pointless war that would last decades. But the Emperor knew that.
“The Emperor does not want a war with the southerners. But he does want a conflict to happen. Between who?” asked Irene.
“With the Tyrans,” answered Ray. The gentleman was impressed with how fast Ray came to the correct conclusion.
The Tyrans were the only kingdom with the strength and allies that rivaled Ossyria and her own allies. A war in the south between those two nations would spell the end of their upcoming empire. And the Empire would be able to reap the benefits once the smoke and ash was clear. Southerners were always a stubborn and prideful people. They would rather slit their throats than to bow their heads to a northern king.
“Years of peace have made the Ossyrians weak and complacent. The Whispers told me something interesting. Princess Autumn rides with a compliment of Deathstalkers to Termina. Just that and nothing more.”
“Deathstalkers? You can't expect me to face them by myself.”
“And you wont. Another sellsword will be taking over that mission. A man with a reputation almost as legendary as your own.”
“Axel Fucking Erachin.”
“Oh? Excellent guess!”
Ray's mind burned with the thought of seeing his rival once more. But the thought, the very idea that the two of them would be working together brought about an intense feeling in his heart. It was a hungry anticipation that yearned to be fed.
