The Struggle for Aldaris

Dawn was breaking.

Mak'kal pointed at the pile of parts in the corner of his shop. "Take."

The guards signalled, and a pair of hapless villagers began to haul the parts away with their bare hands, staggering under the load. Mak'kal could've moved the entire pile alone, but before he could make a move to help them, but one guard levelled a spear at his throat and mocked, "So orcs have hearts! At least we'll know where to aim when we skewer them. Best keep to your work if you know what's good for you, ironmonger."

He fumed. Under any other circumstance, the insolent offender would have been nothing but ashes. But Mak'kal knew that he had to bide his time, and turned away.

He'd heard rumours of another blacksmith who'd entered the town, and one could ask for no better than one that sprang from an entire race of metalworkers and stoneshapers - a dwarf. Circumstances had prevented them from even crossing paths, but today... Perhaps there was a chance after all. If he was friendly, good; and if he was an Imperial sympathiser, it was never a bad idea to eliminate the competition.

And with that, Mak'kal walked out into the town, looking for the dwarf's lodgings. The inn seemed like a good place to start.

edited 8th Jan '13 9:25:57 AM by Pyrite

Having managed to get some money from the locals (magic tricks, obviously), Arxis had managed to buy a room for the night at a local inn, he awoke on the floor of a room, waking to the sight of the sun rising over the captured town of Alicris. He had no idea where to start when freeing the town, but he did know how to start his day. Purchasing the least alcoholic thing on the drinks menu, he sat down and started drinking. A giant, hulking Orc walked in moments later. More than that, an Orc who appeared to be searching. Never a better time to make friends, Arxis thought to himself.

"Looking for someone?" Those were the first words that came out of his mouth, but in a friendly tone. After all, you don't want to piss off an Orc.

Mak'kal stared. The newcomer looked like a puny human - and the robe and red-lined hat practically screamed Squishy Wizard to him - but there was something odd about the man's air. It was primitive and raw, as though it was drawn from the earth itself, but yet different from the dragon's blood that ran in his veins...

And that wasn't the only one he could sense. The town was teeming with similar auras - all from strange sources, but converging in this one town and burning hotter and hotter with anticipation. The time was nearing.

But he had other things to pursue. "Dwarf. Blacksmith. Where?" he growled gutturally, deciding to hide his actual fluency from the stranger for the moment.

Arxis was unfazed by the deep growls of the Orc tongue. After all, there was a whole double page dedicated to Orcs in his journal.

"I've heard that there's one in the town, somewhere. Actually, he might be in here." Replied Arxis. He paused, before adding."Apparently he's the best around here. I've never been there personally, but I've heard it a lot, and a repeated rumour is usually always true in a town like this." He soon realised he was probably annoying the Orc. "Sorry, I'm rambling again. Name's Arxis." Good way to test how friendly someone is: if they don't immediately respond with their own name, they're not going to talk to you. He sipped his drink as he awaited the reply.

edited 8th Jan '13 10:35:29 AM by Ninja2634

Out of the corner of his eye Prometh noticed a cloaked figure linger around the entrance to the town plaza. He tried not to stare at her directly, but could not seem to stop glancing over at her. It was strange to see someone openly praying nowadays; especially in Alicris. Most civilians said their prayers in private unless the convoys had just arrived, and Prometh had never seen any of Karnas' troops pray before. Was she the one he was waiting for? He couldn't tell from this distance.

He had to get closer.

Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, the lawyer made his way over to the plaza entrance. He couldn't ask her directly who she was, or she might consider him a threat. He had to use a bit more tact.

"Excuse me, madame," he said with softest, calmest voice he could muster given the situation, "but would you happen to know the time?"

Had permission from Daltar to have Lann stalk Sophia into the city. Also, I am currently using a school computer, so this is probably the most I'll be able to post for the moment. >.<

Soon enough, a figure approached the praying Sophia with a casual stride. Stopping, and raising an eyebrow out of curiosity at what the person was doing, he immediately grinned upon realizing who she was; the very same person he had followed into the city.

He had spotted her not long before she had infiltrated the city, and while he wanted to simply just stroll in, he decided to follow the strange figure... not to fight or stop them, but to assist them if so needed. Even though she was clearly fast and not a normal human... he was faster, so keeping up with her was of no trouble to him. Though, entering the sewers was just a tad horrendous... even for a free-lancer like himself. He kept his distance as she navigated her way into the city, but he never lost track of her, not even when she faced the demon.

He was tempted to draw his blade, and to use his 'weapon'... but he soon saw that it was all for naught. She had slain the demon with a powerful weapon, one of the same nature as his, something that wasn't crafted by mortal hands. While he was amazed that he had found another wielder, his eyes narrowed as he eyed the corpses of those the demon had slain. Adverting his gaze, he thought on what to do... should he go and comfort the infiltrator, or stay hidden? With swift thought, he decided it best to stay hidden, and wait to see how she would react.

Unfortunately... while he was thinking to himself, the figure had already left his sights, along with what truely caught his attention. With a sigh, he went up into the city from its depths, and decided it best to spend a night at an inexpensive inn.

Fortunately, while on his morning stroll of the city in order to find someone who may need his set of skills, Lann stumbled upon the very same figure he had followed the night before. "Yo! It's you again, Miss Cloaky," said the smiling blonde man as he took a step towards her. "It's good to see that you're alright, especially after the spectacle with the demon last night. Ah, almost forgot to introduce myself. I am Lann. Also, would you like a drink?" asked Lann as he held out the extra cup of fruit juice he had obtained from the inn.

edited 8th Jan '13 10:56:18 AM by Aevum

"Here's your dwarf." Sir Dire Shot yawned out, sleepily stepping from his room upstairs. "You could have waken up a herd of oxen with that little exchange." His light sleeping was two edged sword, another gift from having his senses boosted. "Sir Dire Shot at your service." careful not to tumble down the steps that remained only slightly too large for his tastes, he made his way to the main floor. The orc that'd been looking for him had the look of a blacksmith, if the Apron was anything to go by. The familiar scent of coal, iron, and sweat filled his nostrils almost immediately, blocking out others in the room adding to the conclusion.

"So, blacksmith," he continued. "What do you need from a hunter like myself, eh? Note that I have some prior engagements for today, but they'll likely keep me here for a few weeks or so."

"Ow, ow, ow, ow." A young looking elf girl whimpered with every rise and dip that made traversing inside a tank a bumpy ride. With one hand remaining on the gear, she used the other to rub her back in an attempt to soothe the soreness.

"You brought this upon yourself, Sennal." Lehen said from in the turret above and behind her. "It's you're own fault for sleeping in your seat."

"Ow - You could have woken me up you know!" Sennal snapped.

"Consider it a learning experience."

While the elves bickered back and forward inside, outside the tank the dwarf and human half of the crew were gazing about their surroundings. As the tank navigated its way down the ridge they had encamped on, the city was gradually getting closer though their bird's eye view of it gradually diminished. From atop, with his body half outside the tank, Auhsed scanned the immediate area. Every so often his binoculars went back to the small town. He felt a pang in his heart. The urge to do something conflicted with the rational part of his that said there was nothing that could be done.

"Heads up, 10 o'clock." Cecilia said from her hatch.

Auhsed swerved to the direction she had said. In the early morning light, a tall and scaly figure was visible walking away from the base of the ridge.

"He's got a bow." Cecilia noted. "A hunter, you think?"

"Might be a straggler from the convoy. But he doesn't look Imperial."

"You think he's seen us?"

"No, but he'll hear us in a few minutes. Best take precaution."

Cecilia pulled out a revolver hanging from her side in response. Sure enough, withing three minutes, Firock Finion would hear the engine on a large metal war machine bearing down behind him.

"Sure. We don't have any set prices on the bread, and the owner and I can't eat this whole thing ourselves..." Gerrard avoided the other questions, leaned to the side, and looked out the window. Soldiers. Convoy. Coming. "Aaand considering that it appears to be judgment day, the bread's on the house." Gerrard handed Lithu a few slices of bread before grabbing a few himself. "I hate to be rude, but I'm going to have to ask you to clear out from this floor once you're done; the convoy will be coming soon..." Gerrard hesitated briefly, thinking back on the Dwarf's words. Then he realized that the Dark Lord was anything but subtle, and that this swamp vagrant was probably safe. He began sliding on his armor. "And I'm here to lodge several dozen clean complaints in the chest of every soldier who dares to enter that street." He pointed to the street with Pluck.

Flashback!

Icarus examined the girl/ young woman looking at her with the deady eyes.

The girl must be incredibly hungry....starved more like....

Icarus had better vision than most and the physical state of Eliza was rather apparent even though she had a cloak wrapped around her. the wings question she deduced was just a nice way to try and start up some sort of conversation. Interestingly the more Icarus looked at the girl the more pity stirred in her heart, strange since the girl was merely human and Icarus knew humans alright. What was the difference between a horrible nobleman and a starving peasant?

Money...

But here she could not deny the fact that she is moved to action, she could not turn a cold shoulder on the woman in front of her. Unfortunately Icarus had no money on her....that tends to happen when you turn yourself into a hermit on a mountain.

"Uh...Sorry, but I have no food nor money on me" Icarus said with an almost apologetic tone.

Still a flashback

The woman mumbled apologetically about having no money or food, looking uneasily at Eliza's twiggish limbs. Eliza bit her lip, tiredness washing over her once more as the tiny hope she had cultivated flared out. Of course she didn't have food, or didn't want to share. Almost nobody had anything any more, and the ones who did guarded it with open eyes. Whether the lady with the mechanical wings was the former or the latter hardly mattered. Either she couldn't help Eliza or wouldn't, and mechanical wings or no, it wasn't worth staying out in the cold to find out which.

And perhaps she didn't have anything, after all. Her clothes were stained with dirt, and her face was weary. Aside from the mechanical wings, she didn't look like the kind of person who would have anything to spare. Like the rest of the villagers, she had just enough to feed herself, and nothing else.

Heavy eyes flickering, Eliza turned back without a word, melting away into her dusty little cottage. It hardly mattered if the winged woman knew she was here now, after all.

In the morning, everything would change. In the morning, she'd find something to eat or die trying. But for now, she wanted nothing more than a few hours of sleep.

Below the treetop of a forest not far from Alicris, the steady beat of horse hooves echoed through the leaves. A lone man on horseback trotted between the sturdy trunks. With a low "woah" and a pull of the reigns, the horse by the name of Tummel came to a stop. Atop the loyal old horse, Dolgain Eingalesh sat still and felt the air with his skin. The wind was stronger here, which meant he was near the edge of the forest. Dolgain stuck his finger in his mouth and then raised it into the air. The wind was blowing from right ahead of him. With a kick of both legs, Tummel and he were off once more, going slightly faster than before. Dolgain was eager to be finally free of these trees.

For days he had ridden through these foreign lands, with little clue as to where he was. It had all begun with a raid on an imperial encampment that had been going quite bloodily well until a large group of reinforcements suddenly came by surprise and got the jump on him and his tribesmen. They had to scatter quickly, and in the rush to escape, Dolgain was seperated from the group. He ran fast, but it had been let slip somewhere that he was the Brennan; hence, the imperials extended some special effort to tracking and catching him. The chase went on for some time, but he eventually managed to elude them at the unfortunate cost of his sense of location. From there began his trek through the countryside for any sign of sentient life that wasn't waving the imperial flag, that he might figure out where he was and what to do next.

It was not long before the treeline cleared away. Freeing himself of the forest's shadows, he rode to the top of a hill and stopped there to find himself before the edge of a mountain valley. Scrutinizing the valley, he easily sighted a small city, for it was rarely easy to miss any of these western settlements, with all their massive stone structures. He had found civilization.

Yet Dolgain hesitated to ride towards it right away. It was relatively small and unassuming, especially contrasted against the mountain. Yet Dolgain knew from a decade of fighting experience that among the unmoving stone settlements of the west, cities still free from the dark lord's grip grew more and more rare with each passing day. He was more searching for a tiny village or hamlet which the empire would tend to leave be when concerned with more immediate military matters than the defense of a small village like, oh say, Dolgain. Those places would be fine for a lone Geldan to ask people a bit. But the greater stone settlements the westerners always held with a tight grip until someone chopped their hands off. Such a place would require much more discretion, which Dolgain didn't generally keep excessive quantities of.

However, Dolgain greatly needed a map of some sort, and he was confident that blindly stumbling about the wilderness wasn't going to get such a thing any sooner than he could right now. After a minute of consideration, he decided he would take a closer look at it from the outskirts on the simple off chance that the town hadn't been taken by the empire yet, or that he may find a way inside.

His mind made up, he set off, unknowingly riding towards the pivotal event of his long struggle.

edited 9th Jan '13 6:39:29 PM by SonofMelonHead

Flashback!

Icarus turned away from the sorry spectacle that slipped quietly into the gloom. She could do nothing. Yet. The gilr was obviously starving, probably almost dead, it was not a sight Icarus was accustomed to. The Alicris that she remembered was vibrant and cosy where everyone were mostly in good spirits.

That was ten years ago.

It was a sordid affair, this 'stroll' through the town. Icarus slipped into an abandoned building, slumped against the wall and did nothing till morning.

Morning

Icarus yawned as she woke up with a slight cramp from sleeping against the wall.

Several thick slices of the warm bread vanished below Lihtu's cloak, and Gerrard got a quick glimpse of worn traveling clothes and a sturdy-looking satchel before the cloak settled back into place. One slice remained in her hands, and she chewed on it as she watched Gerrard shrug into his armor, making no move to follow the knight's suggestion. "You're... going to fight?" she asked, after a few moments. "Fight the convoys? And the soldiers?" Her voice grew somewhat stronger as she spoke, as if she hadn't been doing it much recently. The bread in her mouth didn't help with clarity, though.

As Lihtu polished off the slice of bread, she looked between the door, Gerrard and the map. The paper was fastened to the wall at a level above her head, and she pulled the hood back to get a better look. Scraggly and unwashed, but pitch-black hair fell to her shoulders as she shook her head; cowlicks stood up in several directions. Her features were thin and sharp, her complexion tea with milk (though unspeakably grubby), and her pointed ears marked her as some variety of elf. She tapped her chin thoughtfully with a finger as she studied the map, then after a long moment, turned back to face the knight. "Then I'll help."

edited 8th Jan '13 10:31:22 PM by RedSavant

Firock stopped his walk as he heard a strange rumbling behind him. It was like nothing he had ever heard before. He looked back, trying to spot the source of the noise, thinking maybe it was a beast of some sort; but, it seemed too constant to be a beast.

Instead, he caught glimpses between the trees of something large, fast, and metal, that was headed right his way. He remembered the stories his father told of the large war machines employed by the Empire, and everything clicked into place in Firock's head.

"Well then" Firock muttered to himself, taking a quick look about. His arrows would not likely do anything to the machine itself, it was too fast to simply run away from, and from what he'd been told about the weapons they wielded, then he wouldn't want to stay at range from it anyway.

Instead, he came up with a quick plan. He quickly moved over to one of the wider trees, placing it between himself and the oncoming war machine. Then, he started to climb, and would be reaching the larger, leafier branches around the same time the tank would be arriving on the scene. He hoped that whoever or whatever piloted the contraption had not spotted him, or at least not noticed where he went. But that was something he could only hope.

2am

"Oh trust me, my friend." Donatus said, grinning. "My purse will never be empty."

6am

"Well, I can't say I disagree with you, but an alleyway? Not exactly the best place to sleep, is it?"

Icarus would quickly identify the voice as having come from a man right besides her, who was staring down at the lady with his arms crossed, looking down at his bare feet for a second or two, probably to see if there was anything stuck in them. "Please, do not worry. I'm not like the other men in this town, who would use this chance to... let's say... satisfy their desires. No, in fact," he looked back at the road. "I think most of them are in their homes, with their families... where you should be..."

He leaned forward, still resting against the wall. "Do you have one, my winged friend?"

The djinn winced as the first hint of sunlight hit her eyes. Ducking down to hide the sun beneath the building that was once town hall, her vision scouted the main plaza once more as morning began to illuminate the area.

Guards - the Dark Lord's men set up their base of operations here, and what would've once been a plaza full of merchants and townsfolk going about their business now had armed soldiers making preparations for their next convoy.

Sighing, the knight continued to search the area for her contact... and then she spotted her. Though the woman was cloaked as well, she had no doubt that the knight she spotted was Sophia, a fellow Arm wielder. Rising from her hiding spot in the alley, Nasira moved to meet with her ally...

Until she spotted a man approach her. Two men, in fact - one from the front and the other behind. By their garb, they were not men of the empire. Still, Nasira hesitated. There were countless guards within the plaza, and no doubt were there scouts patrolling the area outside. Even if they were friendly, Nasira worried that they might give away Sophia's location... and if she approached, it would seem even more suspicious.

Retreating back into the alleyway, Nasira pondered as her form faded once more. The smoke that was once the knight billowed away, seeping into a window of a nearby building.

Minutes later, near the entrance to Alicris's main plaza, smoke began to rise out from the chimney of a nearby home. It wavered unnaturally against the wind until spotted by the eyes of a certain paladin, and disappeared back into the stack.

"Ah..."

Sophia was shaken out of her prayers by Prometh's question, though as she heard the man's question she looked back toward the horizon where the first signs of the sun could be seen. After this she turned to the man and showed him a small, solemn but warm smile as she said "It is Dawn, sir. Soon it shall be light"

Then she was approached by a young man offering a coup of juice. The cloaked woman stepped forward to him and quickly spoke with him. A short conversation, but one that seemed to be full of meaning.

It was only then when the young woman looked at the sky... and saw the signal of smoke smiling once again she turned to Prometh "Excuse me... but I am required elsewhere. Ah, this might seem weird but... I would recommend staying away from here today. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

With that, the cloaked figure made a little bow and then hurried off... visibly towards a house nearby. Once inside she closed the door before her and raised her voice "Nasira? Are you here, my companion?"

At this same time, a bell started to ring from the town hall. Every morning it was the same. It was way the empire called on what they considered cattle. Soon the people of the city would gather to one of the few sources of food in the city... the Empire stockpiles. Lining up for a meager meal that only kept one alive while slowly having their strength fade, day by day.

edited 8th Jan '13 11:52:28 PM by daltar

An elf?! He had just met a dwarf! He was getting so lucky! Sure, she was ragged and dirty, but an elf nonetheless. Gerrard grinned back at Lithu as he slid on more pieces of Grit. "Great! That makes three of us counting the dwarf from last night, and considering how many other Valiant Heroes in Alicris—I scouted them out around town earlier—this battle will be no problem!" He paused when he heard the churchbell. Yet another symbol of oppression from the Empire. Once the bell was done ringing, he resumed sliding on his armor. "So, Lithu, what do you use? What is your preferred instrument of death?"

"Mak'kal thanks you, magic man." The orc nodded, and then frowned as he heard the dwarf descend the stairs. This wasn't the dwarf he was looking for - this one smelt of smoke, to be sure, but not fire.

"Mak'kal seeks blacksmith dwarf. Not hunter dwarf. Alicris bad place for hunters... unless hunting men."

edited 10th Jan '13 3:28:53 AM by Pyrite

Eliza stirred as the hollow bell-song reverberated through the city, clamouring at the sun that was slowly hauling itself over the horizon. Slowly, she sat up on her pallet, supporting herself on her hands as she summoned the strength to finish getting up.

Her head span a little as she did so, objecting loudly to the untimely exertion. She had slept right through the bell the past few days, exhausted by a long night's futile hunt for food. Now that she had accepted her fate, however, she had no choice but to continue walking, wishing with all her heart that she could just go back to sleep as her weary feet led her out into the blue light of dawn.

Her feet carried her towards the Empire stockpile, weaving her into a small crowd of villagers who rubbed their bleary eyes and carried their bleary children through the trod-upon streets. Guards lined the streets, spotless uniforms and spotless weapons all at the ready as they prepared the next convoy.

When Eliza was young, she had admired the soldiers, who marched in row upon row of magnificence through the streets of Verthnix. She had played the part of a brave soldier in the street, using sticks as guns and swords as she battled her friends - the evil, dissatisfied peasants who envied sophisticated city life and wanted nothing more to bring down the great Lord Karnas. When soldiers paraded through the city on days of celebration, Eliza would drag her sister to the front of the crowd and stare in undisguised admiration, smoothing down her best dress as she attempted to look impressive. Her first crush, at age eleven, had been on a handsome young soldier who had smiled at her as she waved from the front of the crowd.

It was almost comical, how much had changed since then. Eliza found herself hating the well-fed way they filled out their immaculate jackets, and the absolute security of their synchronised movements. It wasn't bravery, or love for the common people of the empire, that brought them out to far-flung backwaters like Alicris. It was mere luck. They had been given the responsibility of burning the last scraps of resistance, and in return, they had been fed both food and promises of future security. It sounded like a good deal, really.

Sometimes Eliza wished she had just shaved her head and joined the army years ago, before her resentment and teenage sense of justice had gotten the better of her. She could have pretended she was taking the system down from the inside, while meeting her childhood heroes and going back to a hot meal every night. It would have been nice.

Then again, she supposed that if she wanted to change her past, she might as well not have rebelled at all.

edited 9th Jan '13 3:41:28 AM by KiriAme

"Lihtu," Lihtu said, correcting Gerrard's pronunciation. "Lee-too." She looked at the knight expectantly, waiting for him to repeat after her, and a small frown pursed her thin lips when he didn't. "I use this," she said finally, changing the subject. She held out her left arm, parting the cloak and displaying the black iron vambrace around her forearm. A thin, strong-looking wire wrapped around the piece of armor almost like a spool of thread, ending at the sinister-looking, sharp ring on the elf girl's middle finger. Fashioned into the semblance of a mighty claw from some beast, the ring was segmented and seemed to fit her perfectly; Lihtu opened and closed her fingers, demonstrating the flexibility of the joints. "And these." 'These' were several small glass vials retrieved from the grimy depths of her satchel; the liquids inside moved more like a thin gel or watery paste than anything else, and left faint, oily sheens on the glass when they sloshed up the sides. She put them on the table with a small amount of what Gerrard couldn't mistake for anything but pride.

Dagroth sat on the edge of the roof of one of the houses near the stockpiles, kicking his feet out idly as he looked around. He was also spinning his sword around in his left hand to pass the time, the hilt never actually leaving his hand. He had no guarantees that anything would happen here, but, well... he had learned that the powerful always enjoy lording their power over the poor, unwashed masses, so it was probably the best place to be right now. Regardless, he hoped that something would happen within the next few days, or he'd have wasted his entire trip up to this town.

Arvy paid the bar man most of his silvers for the tankard of watered down beer before deciding to take a walk.

In a later time, he thought it might not have been one of his more enlightened decisions.

Alicris was relatively clean, if not rather grey and sombre. The warehouse he'd taken shelter in might have looked to be a storehouse of plenty but once one factored in the refugees, the homeless looking for a hand-out, the cheap... Arvy scratched his head and tried not to think about it.

Looking as relatively neat as he did, every now and again a panhandler would approach. He took on a slump and gave his face the characteristic fall of the down-on-their-luck. He usually didn't have time for those to seek alms, didn't even bother to make time for those seeking alms. But every now and again... Well, it just went to show that Arvy Tamerlane still had a heart.

And so it was the man in the blue coat, he who could give a worthless pearl the shine of the fabled, found himself meandering towards the square, his feet more or less in control.

"Every dwarf knows a smidgeon of blacksmithing," Sir Dire shot responded, smile plastered onto his face, "It's what we do shortly after learning to walk, if you'd forgive the hyperbole." There was a good deal of reason, still, to the orc's dissapointment. "But I'm no student or master of the craft, as I'd mentioned, and subsequently of little use to you outside of retail." He had the feeling that he could look to this blacksmith for quality, if not in the immediate future. If the baker-knight was right.

"As to what I hunt," he continued, "That's just a little bit of everything, with notable exceptions." he raised three stout fingers from his side into the air. "No killing females unless it can't be helped, No killing things too rare unless it can't be helped, and no head-hunting for anything other than classical purpose of revenue."