Prologue: Winter's End

Ten-thousand years ago, the First Men arrived across the Western Sea. Slowly, they moved eastward, taming the land and living abundantly.. until they met the Unnamed Terror. Join us on an adventure reaching thousands of years into the past and marching into the future. Where the legends of yesterday inspire the heros of today, kingdoms clash over ideology while the souls of men hang in the balance and it is only with the Conset of Souls that the Unnamed Terror has again crept into the land...Run by the GM Bo
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Prologue: Winter's End

Post by Bo » Wed Nov 23, 2011 10:04 pm

Prologue: Winter's End

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“More Scabs are on the way. Prepare yourselves,” growled Imdur as he wiped the bloodied blade of his sword against his trousers. He pulled his hair away, wiping a trail of grime across his forehead, and looked up. Streaming down from the mountains were hundreds of starving and frostbitten Skaverii, fierce in their desperation.
“Stay in your ranks! he commanded. . “Archers. Ignite.”

A company of Danar's finest soldiers surrounded him and, though the Winter had been long, it was nearly over and there was just one more assault to survive - or so the scouts had reported. Like glowing insects, arrows filled the late afternoon sky. The last battle of the winter had begun. By nightfall, it was over.
~Bo~

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Re: Prologue: Winter's End

Post by Bo » Wed Nov 23, 2011 10:05 pm

Imdur sat in a chair, a warm tankard of wine in his right hand, and looked about him. Outside the tent the snow was blowing. On the wind the wails of the wounded rode through the night. “Do you think your cousin will make it?” said Brenlin. He was a tall man, slight of build, and captain of the archers stationed just north of Thundermount, along the border of the newly united kingdom of Danar to the south and the kingdom of Ferronia to the north. He sat across from Imdur, a similar tankard of wine in his hand - some of it on his dirty white shirt. The man's speech was slurred but he made perfect sense.

“Beasts,” he said. “All of them.” He took another gulp, some of the fluid pouring out of the corner of his mouth. “And so are their masters.”

Imdur shot his friend a knowing glare. “You are aware that Lord Kesselring is having problems with these feral tribes himself, yes?” He shook his head. “We are not the only ones fighting this winter, friend.”

“Kesselring is a liar!” shouted Brenlin. “I've heard nothing about the Ferronian dead or wounded, nothing about their struggles - about villages burnt to the ground.” He shook his head. “No. All of the pain is on our side of things... and until I see those northern slave drivers weep in misery over their dead wives and daughters, I will not believe otherwise!”

Imdur merely took a drink of his wine and stayed silent. He knew better than to argue with Brenlin Bowman. The man, a renowned archer, lost his wife, Amanda, and his two daughters to the first Skaverii raids three years ago. Since then, the man's temper had been short and his appetite for drink had increased.
~Bo~

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Re: Prologue: Winter's End

Post by Bo » Wed Nov 23, 2011 10:07 pm

Suddenly, a short man with a receding hairline entered the tent. “Captain Idhalion,” he said. “Your cousin still remains gravely wounded but our physician reports that his condition has improved. He is expected to survive the night, though we are unable to say more.”

Imdur smiled as did his friend Brenlin. Rising from his chair and finishing his wine he said, “That is good news. Take me to him.” The men went out into the cold, heading towards the sick and the wounded and wondering when the Skaverii raids would end.

Imdur looked down at his cousin, Gregory. The man lay there, bruised and beaten and bleeding, the victim of a Skaverii mob that clashed with Imdur's front-lines earlier in the evening. “Good news, cousin,” Imdur said. “You are doing well. You are going to be alright.” He smiled. “You always were a strong one....”
~Bo~

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Re: Prologue: Winter's End

Post by Bo » Wed Nov 23, 2011 10:08 pm

“Stop the lip service, Imdur,” Gregory said, doing his best to smile but making a poor job of it on account of his mouth that looked more like ground meat than lips. “I know I look terrible.. do you think Kerrissa will mind?”

“No. She is your wife and a good woman. She loves you for more than your pretty face.. Now she will love you despite your ugly face.”

Gregory tried to laugh but all that came out was a cough and a trickle of blood from the right side of his mouth. “If I go to join our Lord in the Sky, you'll surely be cursed for that comment, cousin.” He coughed. “But promise me this.. Bring word to my dearest wife if I should die... Tell her I died gloriously in battle.. not amidst others in a tent, torn and tattered and bleeding to death.. or maybe suddenly perishing from fever.”

“I will do that, dear cousin. You have my word,” replied Imdur.

After a few more words and talk of the coming of Spring, Imdur stood up, leaving his hand on his cousin's tattered flank. “You will heal, Gregory,” he said. “I am sure of it.. and there will be more Scabs to fight next Winter. For now, get some rest.”

“I could use a drink,” replied Gregory. Smiling, Brenlin went to oblige the wounded man but then was stopped by his captain's stern words.

“There will be time enough for drinking, cousin, but for now peaceful dreams are required.”
~Bo~

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