E1Alpha
07-16-2012, 12:31 PM
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"Our duty is to protect the secrets of this world. All who threaten this will be cast aside, like the sand blown away in the wake of a storm."
The Scaravian Desert is a large and arid wasteland, which holds many secrets, of whom some should never be uncovered. For ages, one of these secrets was the nomad civilisation of Scaravus. These desert warriors never had any interest in joining the conflict for rule over Deiranar. As such, they are the oldest state currently present. It has only been a decade or two since Scaravus has entered the fray. The head chief of the Scaravus Tribe, Al’tajin, was blessed by the gift of visions and was revered as the great prophet of the desert. He has led his people in their struggle to survive in the harsh wastelands, and managed to erect a mighty desert citadel to safeguard his people. However, on a certain night, Al’tajin received a vision of an abandoned shrine near his mighty city. Knowing better than to ignore his visions, he went there, and there he found the Soul Orb of Ik’Yamar, the Sand Scorpion. A mighty and viscious beast, yet endowed with great wisdom, the Meragaia spoke to Al’tajin. He gave the people of Scaravus a purpose: To end the fighting for Deiranar by surpassing all who wish to take control of it. Al’tajin brought this message over to his people, and they gladly agreed to fight for their leader. Going in battle with battle techniques and hardiness that was only known to them, this stealthy yet deadly army came on the move, led by the visions of Al’tajin.
A lonely, warm wind blew over the hot desert sand, shifting it and filling in tracks left behind by those who called this harsh, unforgiving land their home. The sand slid with a soft ‘shhh’ sound as it travelled over the glowing hills. The sun slowly moved to its slumber in the west, its dying light radiating a bright yellow then orange and finely red making the air seem to turn hazy for a long moment before it finely pulled its huge head from the sky and beyond view.
Nestled between the rising waves of the sand sea stood a city that only the inhabitants could call beautiful. It's shadowed streets and hallowed stone homes where quiet as men and women alike prepared for their sleep. The moon was casting a soft light over the dark sands, as two men stood on the wall that surrounded the city, their eyes traveling over the desert plains while their ears tuned to the sounds of the night and anything that did not match with its persistence.
Seraimoiron a tall and fit man leaned on the edge after a moment. "Things are quiet." "Don't expect it to last long." Namar ,another tall and well built man but younger than the first answered "Never expect the sudden silence to be a good thing." "I never said it was a good thing, but the air does not feel restless and only the sand is shifting below us." The younger snorted as the other turned around and leaned back looking at the bland city before him.
Its dull color allowed this place to remain well hidden during a sand storm, and even without the desert’s stormy cover, it was hard to find unless you knew what you were looking for. The large structure in the center resembled something like a large palace or castle made of simple red orange sand stone, carved to fit into its place. Small spires rose above their heads and reached for the star filled sky above. Standing out starkly against the moonlight it seemed almost menacing.
"Calm down. We have only just joined this war." Seraimoiron said "Hardly anyone knows of us and we are well protected by the desert." "That does not mean we should let our guard down." "No, it doesn’t. I'm simply telling you to keep your eyes open, but keep your calm and save the tension for the battle ahead of us." Namar sighed. Both men perked up at a sound, it sounded like clicking or something like cracking. Namar had his hands on his weapons, but Seraimoiron placed a hand over his, gesturing him to stay put as he looked over the wall. "It’s just a lone Taeloron." He murmured quietly, watching the thing scuttle across the sand in search of food.
The beast didn't even seem to notice the walls, skirting around them quickly and out of sight. Namar released his weapons as Seraimoiron pulled his hand away. “As I said before, there is little to worry about as of now. Take the time to breath before it’s too late.” Namar didn't seem too happy about being lectured, but when he turned to reply, Seraimoiron was already walking away. "I'm off, Koron might join you. He should be good company for you." With that the other man headed down the stairs. Namar was now alone as he gazed out over the shadowy desert.
Seraimoiron was quietly making his way to the building that rose up from the sandy ground to tower many feet above the people that moved around below. His thoughts where on the war and, though he had refused to fight in it before, he was not working to stop it from another side. The Disgeran were a disturbing force to hear about but the Ekro were even more so. He could only guess how this fight was going to turn out and this worried him and others he knew.
With the grace of any other Scaravus and a hint of Aeregos he moved into the large sanctuary. This hollowed rock could be used for many things, including training the chosen warriors, a quiet place for the prophets and others to meditate and ponder on questions and answers. It could also very well serve as a last hold if the city ever did get taken. As unlikely as it was, it seemed it was better to think of all possibilities.
Koron made his way up the stairs to spot the young Namar. "Still up here, lad?" Namar only shook his head, arms crossed and eyes ahead the silence settled over for them as Koron set his axes down in front of him and leaned down onto the stones decorating the top of the walls. The only thing that could be heard between them was their breathing and even that was as soft as the night air. "This war will be bloody, lad." Koron finally said "People are going to die even with the powers of the Meragaia. I only hope we can save the land from total destruction." Namar didn’t react to the words, as his gaze, if anyone could follow it over miles, would be looking in the direction of Aeregos.
Al’tajin quietly meditated, listening to the soft wind that blew through the windows, the soft crackling of the fires in the braziers and the soft shuffling of feet on the stone floor. Opening his eyes to see Seraimoiron standing at the far door. "Everything is quiet." Al’tajin spoke. "Let us hope that it stays that way a little longer before we must join the real fray of this war." Seraimoiron closed his eyes with a sigh, but they both knew it was inevitable now. They would do whatever they could to stop this war and unite the people as well as protect the secrets of this land.
Both looked at the window at a ‘shhh’ and the air seemed to leave the room for an instant as it seemed to crawl out the window, bits of sand twisting up into the air almost making the form of a scorpion, before disappearing as fast as it appeared. The air filled the room once more making both men take a breath of the sweet, life giving air. "It’s a sign..." Al'tajin said quietly. “The time is upon us… And so, we must act.” The prophet rose to his feet as he gazed down at Seraimoiron. “Tell Mordus to venture into his home with some of our forces.” He closed his eyes again as well. “We have already secured the land to the north, releasing it from the clutches of Firanos. Ataran has made sure of that.” His gaze once more settled upon Seraimoiron. “I wish for you to head into the lands to the west, and hold back the Leongarde expansion into the Gero Badlands. They will try to assault those lands, and we must keep them in our hands. For the sake of the relics there.” Seraimoiron lowered his head. “If Ik’Yamar wishes it so.” He then rose up and left to carry out the message. Scaravus was now officially involved in this, and they would not hold back.
The men retreated back to their border. There were calls and shouts that were soon drowned out by a resounding roar that followed by the triumphing faction. There were curses and promises to get them back if only for the pride of their leader.
The healers had already gone ahead setting up a place where they could treat the injured and wounded. One of their heads wounded, Though not fatally, Was doing all she could to treat those that were give to her to care. She worked on those of the worst and made her way down but as it was there where few that she could not save and simply held their hand as they passed.
The men were tired beaten and their spirits were low after the loss and though they had fought hard they had still lost. They had failed their leader and this weighed heavily on them.
Koron could see this and though he was far from the worst of any of his men He took, more or less, the Healers treatment while he thought on the current battle. The men had fought long and hard and it was not anyone's fault that they had lost or more so it the the enemys.
Pushing one of the healers away he stood knowing full well that moral would be a good thing to bring up right about now, Having an Army with a low esteem was the last thing one needed. “ We lost today...” He spoke quietly at first but as the men looked to him he raised his voice to be heard. “Ay we lost to day, This battle.” his gaze swept over the men with a look that only made them admire him more than they already did. “But who’s to say the next one we cannot? Fate is not our master and nor is death our fear! You are from the desert! a harsh land with no love for the life it holds but it has only made you stronger.”
The healers had even stopped at this moment and the clearing that the large group had settled in was now completely silent and still as if the trees, rocks and every blade of grass listened to his words.
“The sands are harsh and the winds are warm but it is your home and it welcomes every one of you, We fight to keep its secrets safe from the world that might use them and for this we must not give up because of one loss. We are Scaravians and we will not show fear to the face of our enemies!”
The men perked up a bit their leader still had faith in them and they should too but he was right. As soon as the words stopped ringing through the air the healers began to scurry around once more tending to anyone and everyone as no one had come out unscythed.
“What of our dead?” Karrha asked having pulled herself away as there was no more need of her to treat the wounded.
Koron seated himself once again as the healer approached her gate uneven and slow. “Well lass, We take them back to their families.”
“And what of those still left on the battlefield?”
“I don’t know if I’m willing to risk more men to grab corpses.” Koron answered gruffly. They had lost too many already and going back to grab their dead if the victor was still there might be pushing it.
The women remained silent but she understood. After a moment her awkward gate turned and left leaving him to watch the men resting where they were. He was going to have to report this and more. how many men had died? he would have to count but for now he set in silence and thinking in honor of those that had died for this lost battle but the spirits mark his words he would get that land back.
“I see...” Al'tajin murmured as he heard the news. Koron, Seraimoiron and Namar stood silently next to one another in the large, main prayer hall of the temple in the center of Scaravus.
“So Leongarde has taken Ilean Mountains.” Al’tajin continued, having his eyes closed as he remained in meditating position. “My home...” Koron answered softly, gritting his teeth something.
“I am sorry, Koron.” Al’tajin said sincerely to the disheartened warrior, who only bowed his head slightly as the room went silent again.
“We must decide what to do next.” Seraimoiron said having walked up besides Koron, resting a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. “What’s our next move?” Namar asked eagerly from the corner of the room he was residing in. All eyes immediatly set on Al’tajin, who maintained his silence as he seemed to be waiting for something.
“The Gero Badlands are at risk… I can see soldiers bearing the banner of Leongarde, marching upon the dry steppes, towards our borders.” The aged man spoke, looking at the rest of them. “I fear our northern land may be at risk, as well: Talos.”
Everyone’s ears perked up as they heard the grave tone of the older man “All factions know well of the mysterious island that has risen next to Creefshank Bay...” Even though no words were spoken, the mood in chamber dropped even further as the men’s gazes darkened. “…Yet we do not know what these beings are that inhabit it… For some reason, I am not shown their true being and purpose… What I do know, is that they are there and are far worse than Disgeran could ever claim to be.”
“Is that even possible?” Namar asked dryly, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. It earned him stern glares from his older comrades, but Al’Tajin closed his eyes once more as he continued. “Yes… Both of them are monstrosities that plague this world… But they are a lower sort… Whatever resides on this island is far more deadly... Something even the Meragaia fear…”
A long silence followed. The men all glanced at eachother, while waiting for the prophet’s orders. And at last: “Seraimoiron, I want you to gather your men and make your way to the badlands to the west. Namar, I will leave Talos in your hands. Defend it well from whatever may attempt to claim it. Koron...” The old man turned his gaze to the remaining man. “Rest here with your men and recuperate until there is another battle that calls you.” Koron nodded and left the room to leave any planning to the others.
“I will gather my men in the morning then?” Seraimoiron said quietly and then glanced at Namar who nodded that he would do the same.
Al’tajin nodded solemnly. “Be cautious… Both of you… For dark times are upon us....”
No one could disagree with this. War was always a dark day, but at this point it could no longer be avoided.
“Seraimoiron, you will be closer to both Leongarde and Disgeran, so stay on your guard. For the enemy takes pride in the strength of a lion… But even the sting of a small scorpion, if used at the right time, can be deadly.” After a little pause, he turned his attention to the youngest of the two. “Namar, I fear that you might see the worst yet as that mist draws near to our shores.”
“I can handle anything that tries to cross our borders.” The younger man said confidently. “It is good that you believe in your skill… But never do not judge a blind man whose eyes you have not yet seen…”
Namar took a moment to figure out what the prophet, before he took in what the aged man said and stored it along with whatever arrogant thoughts he might have had.
“You know what to do and I shall pray that your choices will bear our success.” With that, the two men bowed and left. They had their orders, but neither of them got an answer to what they hoped: What is the fog?
Al'tajin set in meditation within the walls of the central temple, which seemed to some as a grand palace, and to others as beautiful sanctuary. To him it was simply a shrine to focus his mind in.
A rush of hair whistled through the windows, making the fires of the braziers inside flicker wildly for a moment. Al'tajin’s eyes flashed open, his eyes narrowing intently on the fire, until the wind died down and the shadows stopped dancing, leaving the room once again peaceful.
His eyes remained locked on the flames that now seemed to stare back defiantly, seemingly holding themselves with pride and mocking him as he sat before them. With a quick wave of his hand a gust of wind swept around the room, making each and every tiny flame flicker and die in an instant, leaving the room he was in more than a little dark.
“It can’t be...” Bound with worry, Al'tajin stood up and moved to one of the windows to look out into the night and past the walls to the dark wasteland beyond them. “So Talos has been taken…”
“Sir?!”
Turning his eyes from the window he peered back in the darkness to see another man having entered as silently as he could, despite the man’s injuries. “What of Namar?” Al’tajin had asked without hesitation, already knowing who the soldier was.
The man looked both confused and surprised, but gathered himself a second later. “Captured, sir... He was taken by Firanos...”
Al’tajin’s eyes darkened slightly, not that the man could tell from the darkness already present in the room.
“Sir?” Another man entered carefully behind the first. This one seemingly unharmed from the mission he had been sent on.
“Where is the rest of your group?” Al’tajin asked calmly. He did not feel the need to bet about the fact he could feel that they had not completely accomplished what they had gone after, but had in some way gained something and good news was welcome right about now.
The assassin bowed slightly . “They have gone ahead to see the healers and medics.”
“What about the one who led your assault? What of the man who had wished to go on this mission? should he not be the one reporting?”
“I can find him if you wish?”
“Go.” That was all that was needed to be said, as the man turned around and scurried off, leaving Al’tajin and the first soldier again. Turning his gaze to the exhausted man again, he questioned. “How was Namar taken?”
The man could not give full details of the occurrence and how the poison shadow was taken down so neatly, but he was able to give a little knowledge on it. “So… he’s not dead… but rather a prisoner... what would they intend to do with him? I doubt a man like him will give them much information to go off of.”
Dezeroth was at the doorway when the man walked by, arms folded into his robes and his hair covering those areas of his face that the shadows did not. Only his mouth was revealed. He nodded to the man as he left the building in a hurry. Stepping in, the Mage caught enough to know that one of their own number was taken. "I assume, then, that there will be a rescue mission?" The words were spoken fluidly; several times, they had been described as those of a serpent, "In that case, I don't suppose that I might get the great honor of his safe return?"
Al’tajin turned his gaze to the door way listening to the spoken words of Dezeroth. "You have only just returned, yet you believe you are up to such a task?" Not showing the least bit of surprise, Al’tajin once more proved that he was somehow expecting this. He reason to it was still unknown, though. The man did not necessarily seemed like a selfless warrior, but perhaps he was just seeking after glory.
Dezeroth nodded. "Indeed, I am ready, though...Perhaps the healer Karrha should accompany me." He gave a weak smile, "After all...Her arts are rather refined...And I'm sure she knows of medicines to heal the burns I've suffered from the last battle." Pausing a moment, he sighed. "But beyond that, my Fire-sight may grant us insight on various things for the coming mission. Such as the layout of the fortress, the current position of guards, areas idea for ambushes..." He trailed off, allowing the man to come to his own conclusion as to the rest of it.
Al’tajin was silent for a moment. Eventually, he dismissed the tired warrior. Hopefully, he too would see a healer. The name Dezeroth mentioned was not unfamiliar to Al’tajin, but hardly any name was to the old prophet. He knew of her origins and her skills. Being a healer, what other use would she have on a rescue mission? Though he knew she had picked up the bow, she was still a healer first and foremost and that wasn’t going to change. "Tell me how your own mission went, before we fully turn our attention to this new task." It was a rather mandatory question. Al’tajin had already seen how the mission had evolved so far, but he also had seen other things, leading him to question Dezeroth.
Dezeroth sighed. "Well, extracting the man was successful. Alive, however...Would have been impossible if I wanted to retain the integrity of the squad. He'd picked out Al'jun, our Archer, as the target for what appeared to be a combustive assault. In order to ensure the man did not die, I pushed him way. I used a lightning spell and shot my sword in his direction, hoping for a near-miss and an electrocution. However...He turned straight into it. The result was death. Nevertheless, we extracted the body. I attempted to coax information from his soul using magic, but all I was able to get was fire-sight." He shrugged, "Other than that, the end result is that Golems are in limited supply for Firanos. If we were to capture one mid-battle, I have all the necessary tools to begin researching their control methods.
Al’tajin frowned, but nodded "It’s unpredictable what others might do, especially during a fight, but you did well despite the setback." He said quietly. "And if you feel you can handle the rescue, then so be it, but be careful... The Fierans are perfectionists in the art of battle, and that will surely reflect in their defense of prisoners... They will be expecting you."
“Indeed they will,” He thought, nodding. "I believe I have a few ideas how to get around such defenses." He shrugged, "The most basic of which being that we may make it seem as though a larger extraction team is entering from another area, then extract him while their forces are being relocated."
Al’tajin nodded slowly, scratching his chin as he let the mage’s plans sink in, before he’d turn to gaze out the window again. “Very well then… I shall deploy a special team along with yours which shall create a diversion that should give you enough time to slip past the Fieran defenses. However… I will not allow any unnecessary deaths, and as such, I will give this strike team an exact time span within which they will retreat. If you are not inside within that time, you will have missed your chance.” Without giving the man a chance to speak, Al’tajin turned to the center of the temple again as he spoke. “Now… Take your leave. I must attend to more important matters.”
As soon as Dezeroth had made himself scarce, Al’tajin set down and begun meditating, the winds in the chamber picking up again. “It was as you predicted… Talos was lost, but indeed it will also be our shield from the coming darkness…” The winds seemed to react to Al’tajin’s words, before backing down once more, leaving the prophet alone in meditation.
With the battle won, the enemy's held back and deflected, even after having burring and morning their dead the men that where not remaining to hold Talos seemed in high spirits. this... was probably far better then having them troding home with broken spirits. They had won! held the Enemy's at bay both Firanos adn this new darkness that had tried to claim their shores, they would not doubt come back... but for now all was well.
Closer to the back of the group, Where karrha found herself more recently do t having to rest much more then she liked to after the battle with the dark beast of the black mists. She was still pretty bruised one arm tightly bandaged and hanging from a make shift strap to hold it strait. her breathing a bit labored but other then that she looked well off despite the horrific fight she had found herself in. Still something bothered her and she intended to give the mage a few words and a peace of her mind.
Dezeroth, too, was resting, his sword across his lap. The cane section had been lost in the battle; splintered by the beast, presumably. His eyes were open, and the two green disks set their sights on the blue sky. The remarkably blue sky. His mind wandered back to the fight, back to the various strategies he had tried. That had failed. I need my own personal Guard... The former mage sighed, and set his mind back to its' previous endeavor. Once again, he attempted to gather mana within himself--To at least utilize the words he had learned and now mysteriously had forgotten. But they would not come to him.
Still, he could see Karrha was looking at him, and so he looked down, giving her a smile. Several new scars donned him from the battle; his right arm was badly cut after landing on it, and there were icy-white scars running across his back from where the Shadow Beast had gripped him. "Is something on your mind?"
"You could say that." she replied, though not as sharply as she had intended. He had taken a betting as she had and she could not bring herself to be to hateful on him despite her usual demeanor. "Out of all the things to turn me into it was one of those bloody shadow beasts what gave you an idea like that?" he had changed after the battle somewhat but even she could tell... and somehow that worried her.
Dezeroth breathed deeply, sighing. "Well, I was thinking as fast as I could, honestly." He gave a shrug, "I knew that any mortal animal we had was too small and weak--You saw that thing. It was a monster. I also knew you'd need mobility, and the more leverage you could get, the better. The first thing that came to mind was the Shadow Demon. It was large, strong, it had razor-sharp claws, and it had wings. It seemed like the perfect idea." He paused for a moment, eyebrows raised. "Would you have preferred I turned you into a wolf?"
"I think I would have." she replied with a grimace. although she understood what he meant that didn't mean she liked it any better. "Next time you could consider a dragon I suppose it has almost the same appendages that you where looking at but not quite so vile." she gave a slight shake of the head. "Though I understand your reasoning for it did you have any clue if it would have an after effect or not?" she shuddered at the thought of something permanently remaining behind after that, she did not understand magic, not a whole lot.
Dezeroth shook his head. "I had no clue what to expect; that's the first time I've used that particular ritual. It takes a lot of time, and has limited use. I had never even considered using it to turn someone into something larger and more powerful until that battle, and I was unsure of how long the effect would last. Besides...I thought Shadow Demons might be able to talk, and I knew Dragons couldn't."
Karrha gave a wiry smile "I could not find a voice man only a growl. So I don't supposed it would have mattered either way." she said then sighed and prepared to push herself up again to be off once again to no doubt she would be tired once more before to long. she offered a hand to Dezeroth. " However being turned into a Ginny pig is not a favorable position and next time I may bite back should we live through the next."
Dezeroth nodded, taking the hand and rising. "Well, I'll keep that in mind. Hopefully there won't be a next time...Or if there is, that we'll have someone assisting us." The former mage grimaced, "The absolute last thing we need to be doing is taking on monsters that can easily turn the tide of battle against the dominant foe all on our own." Rubbing his chin, Dezeroth began walking down the trail. "Actually...That does beg the question: Why were we the ones facing down that creature?"
Karrha followed behind listening before turning her eyes down the trail. "Good question and one we may never answer..." she said thoughtfully "But I can tell you... for the first time in many years I believe... In higher powers." she was quite for a moment after that reflecting on the event following the end of their battle. Ik’Yamar had answered her... she did not know why, wither for their own gain or for the help of her kind she did not know this either but she was grateful for the help none the less.
Dezeroth nodded, coldly, now. "They exist." His voice hardened, but shook his head. "...But I cannot bring myself to trust them. No matter how many miracles they show us, those miracles only came about because..." He stopped for a moment, trailing off. "Well...Just know that I have a feeling they know far more than they're letting on. And they could have saved countless lives by letting us know."
To this Karrha could only node, she felt like Dezeroth was far more open with his words then he had shown before but she did not disagree. "I'm wry of their intent to but I would not say so out loud in the prescience of those that follow them so closely." she said glancing around as if to see if there where in fact any others around them but they where far behind the main group. "Even so I am glad for the intervention, we are both still alive because that small desperate prayer was answered."
Dezeroth looked over at her for a moment, mulling over speaking on the subject more...Even sharing his own theories on the matter. However, she was correct in her assessment that those around them were certainly not going to appreciate what they had to say. "We'll speak on the matter more at a later date."
Karrha watched her companion for a moment and then nodded slowly. It seemed that the two had some mutual agreement, though not a bad thing Others might not share their view on it. Even so karrha was still grateful but she said nothing more on the subject as the two turned their visions homeward.
Al'tajin gazed at the wry messenger in front of him. Koron would be unable to fight for the time being, admitted to the hospital. The agitated waves of bitter frustration and sense of loss only made the older man shift and look on the man with some pity.
“Not all is lost.” he said finely. The warrior only nodded but it did not seem like he believed that quite yet. Al’tajin knew that there would be little he could say now to mend the warrior's pride and lift his spirits. Twice they had lost to Leongarde but there was better news to come he could feel that much.
Silence passed for the span of a few seconds before footsteps where head down the corridor. Both men looked up at the door in time to see Seraimoiron enter and no sooner followed by two others. Dezeroth and Karrha, Interesting enough. Both looked like they had been in a serious ordeal, no doubt it was war after all. The woman's eyes were narrowed in some pain but otherwise she was walking tall and even gave him a little bow, as much as her battered body would allow her anyways.
Dezeroth walked somewhat gingerly, silently giving them a nod. From the bandaging around his stomach, it was obvious why he did not give a bow. He was no longer clothed in his robes, the tatters of which he had finally decided to use as a makeshift belt with which to tie his sword. Instead, he wore the loose-fitting garb of Scaravus.
Seraimoiron gave his own quite greeting glancing over at the messenger who didn't seem to want to make eye contact. "We have secured Talos." Seraimoiron said finally. Al'tajin seemed to think about this and nodded. There was a pause before Seraimoiron decided he’d best go on. "That mist... you were definitely right about being worse than Disgeran." Karrha glanced at Dezeroth and then back at the other two. So they had discussed this? She didn't know wither to be a bit angry or relieved.
Dezeroth shook his head, now, disagreeing quietly. "It is indeed more formidable than Disgeran. However...I do believe that the major advantage we had in the end was the capability to utilize magic to its' fullest. Given the flexibility it allowed us and the drastic increase in strength, I'd hazard to say we may not have fared so well had Disgeren been there. Not because they are a stronger foe, indeed, they are weaker, but because they are better suited to defeat us." He looked up, now. "However, I would like to note that whatever advantages we gain will only be gained for that battle. Due to the quick adaptations of the enemy before us, I am assuming they are capable of changing form quickly. We may end up facing a worse foe later."
Both men were listening intently to Dezeroth, before Al'tajin nodded. Karrha then spoke softly. "Changing form?" She asked bluntly. "As much as I wish I weren't, I agree." She said, glancing at herself, before looking up at the two other men who now had their gazes on her. "Those things, that thing, they don't quite seem living nor dead." She looked at Dezeroth for a moment. "I'm not even sure how exactly to describe that thing we fought despite getting such a close view of it." At this Al'tajin looked a bit curious. Seraimoiron nodded his head to this "They seem to.. recreate straight from the mist... and suck the very being out of a man." "Ya, I got a pretty good feeling of that one too..." Karrha muttered.
Dezeroth nodded, as well. "If we can find a way to reverse or counter the fog, we may well at least gain the capability to increase our morale. I'm fairly certain the only thing that kept our men from breaking line and turning tail as the Fierans did, or else they all perished, was a strong command chain. That should not be necessary." He frowned, "So unless we are willing to bring more officers to the field, which seems impractical, I advise we at least find some way of keeping a strong morale during the duration of combat."
"Easier said than done." Karrha said. "Moral can rise or drop depending on many of the things happening on the battlefield itself." "Regardless..." Al'tajin said suddenly "It is a plan, but what else do we know of this... mist." "They did seem to feed on each other to become... stronger?" She sounded uncertain. "I'm honestly not sure how to describe exactly what they did." Seraimoiron shook his head. "Hard enough to explain, we’ll stick with feeding on each other. As for the final attack, I have no idea what happened between you two and whatever beast you faced."
Dezeroth decided he may as well report on that as well, putting a hand to his chin as the image comes back to mind. "It was like the bastard child of a scorpion and a demon. With six legs that ended in spikes, it was completely black, except for what looked to be a rose-bud, right here." He pointed to the center of his chest. "It was massive; far larger than either of us. I transformed Karrha into one of the Shadow Demons we had just fought, and she came up only to its' chest. It had two arms with, with claws." He wrapped his hands around the bruises he'd suffered along his arms, "They were powerful. And an enormous maw. On its' head was a horn, capable of blinding an ordinary man. Fortunately, at the time, I had my magical shadows, so I was protected to some extent. It had wings and a tail, though the wings seemed fairly useless. The tail, however, was a weapon that could have easily wiped out a battalion of troops, and nearly killed Karrha. It was by divine grace alone that she did not die from the impact, though I could say the same for myself."
Karrha grimaced as Dezeroth mentioned turning her into that shadow demon while the other two men seemed to be a bit surprised. "More than that...", she said at last, "It was far more than divine grace that my arrow pierced its skull right on the verge of our demise... Ik’Yamar truly did watch over us." The listeners were obviously interested in the details, but it would take far too long. "I did notice that it seemed to represent a scorpion.", she commented, "It didn't strike me till now and somehow that’s troubling..."
Dezeroth nodded. "The resemblance was particularly striking because we were dealing with Scaravian soil. More likely than not, this was an Ekro attempt at driving our morale even lower, which means that they have spies of some sort."
"Spies or something more?" Karrha asked. "Either way they may know us more then we know us..." Al'tajin thought about this though did not quite look like he agreed he nodded slowly, paused and then let out a small breath. "With gaining back Talos... we have lost the Gero Badlands." His words brought were followed by silence for a moment. "Koron?" Seraimoiron asked suddenly. "Being treated now." Karrha frowned at this, she had fought alongside Koron in her first battle and though she did not know him, he was still a leader nonetheless. "Do not worry over him, healer. He is well enough without your presence for the time being. But he will be unable to fight for the time being leaving us low on generals, with Namar free, but unable to reach us right away."
Dezeroth nodded, "Speaking of, now that we have opened up the path, I believe it's time that we went to assist him. Karrha," He looked over at her, "It appears we will not have to worry about breaking into a prison." He gave her a grin, "We might just have to simply beguile an entire army."
Karrha gave an exaggerated roll with her eyes as he grinned at her. "As if fighting one wasn't enough..." Al'tajin listened to the two, who obviously had some relationship growing, though still small. He glanced at Seraimoiron and gave him a slight nod to dismiss him, no doubt he would go visit Koron. "Would you still require that diversion?" He asked solemnly turning to Dezoroth.
Dezeroth shook his head, "No. But I will need to speak with you later: I have a pressing matter of my powers being completely sacrificed in that battle, but before I do that I have some troops to rally and bring before you." He nodded his head once more and turned. "I'll be requesting an audience sometime before I head out."
Power Treshold
115
Members
NPCs
http://i935.photobucket.com/albums/ad198/bailey_067/o_crown.gifAl'tajinhttp://i935.photobucket.com/albums/ad198/bailey_067/o_crown.gif
The Prophet of Scaravus
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Ataran
The Fury of the Desert
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Seraimoiron
The Sting of the Scorpion
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Koron
The Whirling Demise
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Namar
The Poison Shadows
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Rune Tablet
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Player Characters
http://world7.knightfight.co.uk/img/rang/2.gif
Corporal Karrha Nameko (P.K.) (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=32533&p=1016016&viewfull=1#post1016016) - Runes (http://oi48.tinypic.com/hur913.jpg)
http://world7.knightfight.co.uk/img/rang/3.gif
Sergeant Dezeroth A'kyer (Eddren) (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=32533&p=1040221&viewfull=1#post1040221) - Runes (http://oi47.tinypic.com/33farzc.jpg)
Territory Controlled
Scaravian Desert
Talos
Beastiary
Swordsmen
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The Scaravian desert produces swordsmen like no other, warriors trained in the fire of the day and the ice of the night. Desert swordsmen fight craftily, knowing little of the ‘honor’ that some of the other factions wield. Hardy and cunning to a fault, many underestimate them, a fatal mistake.
Spearmen
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With a longer reach and the ability to engage multiple opponents at once, giving a spear to a Scaravian was probably the deadliest anyone could come up with. Once that wooden spear is gone, though, they are just another pig to the slaughter.
Archers
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The archers of Scaravus are used to impossible vision, practicing archery under circumstances most others would falter at. Namely, during a sandstorm. This has left most Scaravian archers deadly accurate, while sacrificing the speed of some of the other factions.
Scarab Warriors
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Granted power by the Great Scorpion himself, these fighters wear not armor, but their own skin into battle. Their skin is the only armor they need, though, as Ik’Yamar has given them plating similar to that of the scorpion, harder than steel and lighter than leather. What’s more is that for every three that fight with dual swords, another fights with a scorpion tail or pincers.
Stingers
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Using poison harvested from the scorpions of the Scaravian desert, these warriors implement lethal blow-darts that thin the enemy’s numbers one shot at a time. Quick and quiet, you’d never know they were there until your buddy falls over for no reason at all.
Assassins
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Shadowy warriors from Scaravus, these masters of the art of stealth are whispers on the field, their prey unknowing until the touch of death is upon them. Though crafty and unlikely to be caught off guard, an assassin is by no means a frontline fighter, and will die easily under a frontal assault.
Fire Mages
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Tired with the tyranny of the Phoenix King, some of the Fieran mages have left their home to pass their teachings on to the Scaravian troops, who are known to value knowledge over power. They are a large minority amongst the Scaravians, but they grant the desert army powerful supporting fire.
Renegade Shieldguard
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The famous shieldguard of Leongarde, who have grown tired of their king's rule and have joined under the Scaravian banner. They are equal in strength and abilities as their Leongardian counterparts and provide Scaravus with a powerful backbone, teaching others amongst the Scaravians their teachings.
Renegade Stormwarriors
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A good number of Aeregos' Stormwarriors have gotten tired of the ruling dynasty and have pledged their loyalty anew to the Scaravians, as per example of Seraimoiron. They do not lack in any way when compared to their counterparts in Aeregos, and as such, make a very fine addition.
Tamed Taeloron
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The deserts of Scaravus and Talos hold many secrets, one of them the secret to taming beasts such as these. These scorpions have claws the size of a man’s head and a poison that can incapacitate within a minute, which makes them deadly from head to tail. About four feet from head to tail-tip, these monsters are loyal to the Scaravians, and will strike down any who defy them.
The skulls indicate difficulty:
No skulls: Regular Enemy
1 bronze skull: Strong Enemy
2 silver skulls: Very Strong Enemy
3 gold skulls: Super Enemy
4 platinum skulls: Legendary Enemy
GOLD: Primary Treat
SILVER: Secondary Treats
Axe (Skirmisher):
Heavy Physical Damage at Close Range
Ballista/Crossbow (Ballistic):
Massive Ranged Damage
Bow (Ranged):
Standard Ranged Attacks
Cogwheel (Siege):
Massive Damage to Structures
Dripping Dagger (Assassination):
Powerful One-Hit Kill Attacks
Eye (Controller):
Masters of upsetting the balance of a battle
Fist (Brute):
Great Durability/Indestructability
Flame (Elemental):
Elemental Entity, Strong Against Physical assaults, Weak against Magic
Foot/Shoe (Rusher):
High Mobility
Mask (Lurker):
Stealth/Invisibility
Reticle (Sniper):
Extremely Accurate (from either ranged or in close-combat)
Shield (Defender):
Very Capable of holding defensive lines and forming unbreachable barriers
Sword (Soldier):
Standard Melee Attacks
"Our duty is to protect the secrets of this world. All who threaten this will be cast aside, like the sand blown away in the wake of a storm."
The Scaravian Desert is a large and arid wasteland, which holds many secrets, of whom some should never be uncovered. For ages, one of these secrets was the nomad civilisation of Scaravus. These desert warriors never had any interest in joining the conflict for rule over Deiranar. As such, they are the oldest state currently present. It has only been a decade or two since Scaravus has entered the fray. The head chief of the Scaravus Tribe, Al’tajin, was blessed by the gift of visions and was revered as the great prophet of the desert. He has led his people in their struggle to survive in the harsh wastelands, and managed to erect a mighty desert citadel to safeguard his people. However, on a certain night, Al’tajin received a vision of an abandoned shrine near his mighty city. Knowing better than to ignore his visions, he went there, and there he found the Soul Orb of Ik’Yamar, the Sand Scorpion. A mighty and viscious beast, yet endowed with great wisdom, the Meragaia spoke to Al’tajin. He gave the people of Scaravus a purpose: To end the fighting for Deiranar by surpassing all who wish to take control of it. Al’tajin brought this message over to his people, and they gladly agreed to fight for their leader. Going in battle with battle techniques and hardiness that was only known to them, this stealthy yet deadly army came on the move, led by the visions of Al’tajin.
A lonely, warm wind blew over the hot desert sand, shifting it and filling in tracks left behind by those who called this harsh, unforgiving land their home. The sand slid with a soft ‘shhh’ sound as it travelled over the glowing hills. The sun slowly moved to its slumber in the west, its dying light radiating a bright yellow then orange and finely red making the air seem to turn hazy for a long moment before it finely pulled its huge head from the sky and beyond view.
Nestled between the rising waves of the sand sea stood a city that only the inhabitants could call beautiful. It's shadowed streets and hallowed stone homes where quiet as men and women alike prepared for their sleep. The moon was casting a soft light over the dark sands, as two men stood on the wall that surrounded the city, their eyes traveling over the desert plains while their ears tuned to the sounds of the night and anything that did not match with its persistence.
Seraimoiron a tall and fit man leaned on the edge after a moment. "Things are quiet." "Don't expect it to last long." Namar ,another tall and well built man but younger than the first answered "Never expect the sudden silence to be a good thing." "I never said it was a good thing, but the air does not feel restless and only the sand is shifting below us." The younger snorted as the other turned around and leaned back looking at the bland city before him.
Its dull color allowed this place to remain well hidden during a sand storm, and even without the desert’s stormy cover, it was hard to find unless you knew what you were looking for. The large structure in the center resembled something like a large palace or castle made of simple red orange sand stone, carved to fit into its place. Small spires rose above their heads and reached for the star filled sky above. Standing out starkly against the moonlight it seemed almost menacing.
"Calm down. We have only just joined this war." Seraimoiron said "Hardly anyone knows of us and we are well protected by the desert." "That does not mean we should let our guard down." "No, it doesn’t. I'm simply telling you to keep your eyes open, but keep your calm and save the tension for the battle ahead of us." Namar sighed. Both men perked up at a sound, it sounded like clicking or something like cracking. Namar had his hands on his weapons, but Seraimoiron placed a hand over his, gesturing him to stay put as he looked over the wall. "It’s just a lone Taeloron." He murmured quietly, watching the thing scuttle across the sand in search of food.
The beast didn't even seem to notice the walls, skirting around them quickly and out of sight. Namar released his weapons as Seraimoiron pulled his hand away. “As I said before, there is little to worry about as of now. Take the time to breath before it’s too late.” Namar didn't seem too happy about being lectured, but when he turned to reply, Seraimoiron was already walking away. "I'm off, Koron might join you. He should be good company for you." With that the other man headed down the stairs. Namar was now alone as he gazed out over the shadowy desert.
Seraimoiron was quietly making his way to the building that rose up from the sandy ground to tower many feet above the people that moved around below. His thoughts where on the war and, though he had refused to fight in it before, he was not working to stop it from another side. The Disgeran were a disturbing force to hear about but the Ekro were even more so. He could only guess how this fight was going to turn out and this worried him and others he knew.
With the grace of any other Scaravus and a hint of Aeregos he moved into the large sanctuary. This hollowed rock could be used for many things, including training the chosen warriors, a quiet place for the prophets and others to meditate and ponder on questions and answers. It could also very well serve as a last hold if the city ever did get taken. As unlikely as it was, it seemed it was better to think of all possibilities.
Koron made his way up the stairs to spot the young Namar. "Still up here, lad?" Namar only shook his head, arms crossed and eyes ahead the silence settled over for them as Koron set his axes down in front of him and leaned down onto the stones decorating the top of the walls. The only thing that could be heard between them was their breathing and even that was as soft as the night air. "This war will be bloody, lad." Koron finally said "People are going to die even with the powers of the Meragaia. I only hope we can save the land from total destruction." Namar didn’t react to the words, as his gaze, if anyone could follow it over miles, would be looking in the direction of Aeregos.
Al’tajin quietly meditated, listening to the soft wind that blew through the windows, the soft crackling of the fires in the braziers and the soft shuffling of feet on the stone floor. Opening his eyes to see Seraimoiron standing at the far door. "Everything is quiet." Al’tajin spoke. "Let us hope that it stays that way a little longer before we must join the real fray of this war." Seraimoiron closed his eyes with a sigh, but they both knew it was inevitable now. They would do whatever they could to stop this war and unite the people as well as protect the secrets of this land.
Both looked at the window at a ‘shhh’ and the air seemed to leave the room for an instant as it seemed to crawl out the window, bits of sand twisting up into the air almost making the form of a scorpion, before disappearing as fast as it appeared. The air filled the room once more making both men take a breath of the sweet, life giving air. "It’s a sign..." Al'tajin said quietly. “The time is upon us… And so, we must act.” The prophet rose to his feet as he gazed down at Seraimoiron. “Tell Mordus to venture into his home with some of our forces.” He closed his eyes again as well. “We have already secured the land to the north, releasing it from the clutches of Firanos. Ataran has made sure of that.” His gaze once more settled upon Seraimoiron. “I wish for you to head into the lands to the west, and hold back the Leongarde expansion into the Gero Badlands. They will try to assault those lands, and we must keep them in our hands. For the sake of the relics there.” Seraimoiron lowered his head. “If Ik’Yamar wishes it so.” He then rose up and left to carry out the message. Scaravus was now officially involved in this, and they would not hold back.
The men retreated back to their border. There were calls and shouts that were soon drowned out by a resounding roar that followed by the triumphing faction. There were curses and promises to get them back if only for the pride of their leader.
The healers had already gone ahead setting up a place where they could treat the injured and wounded. One of their heads wounded, Though not fatally, Was doing all she could to treat those that were give to her to care. She worked on those of the worst and made her way down but as it was there where few that she could not save and simply held their hand as they passed.
The men were tired beaten and their spirits were low after the loss and though they had fought hard they had still lost. They had failed their leader and this weighed heavily on them.
Koron could see this and though he was far from the worst of any of his men He took, more or less, the Healers treatment while he thought on the current battle. The men had fought long and hard and it was not anyone's fault that they had lost or more so it the the enemys.
Pushing one of the healers away he stood knowing full well that moral would be a good thing to bring up right about now, Having an Army with a low esteem was the last thing one needed. “ We lost today...” He spoke quietly at first but as the men looked to him he raised his voice to be heard. “Ay we lost to day, This battle.” his gaze swept over the men with a look that only made them admire him more than they already did. “But who’s to say the next one we cannot? Fate is not our master and nor is death our fear! You are from the desert! a harsh land with no love for the life it holds but it has only made you stronger.”
The healers had even stopped at this moment and the clearing that the large group had settled in was now completely silent and still as if the trees, rocks and every blade of grass listened to his words.
“The sands are harsh and the winds are warm but it is your home and it welcomes every one of you, We fight to keep its secrets safe from the world that might use them and for this we must not give up because of one loss. We are Scaravians and we will not show fear to the face of our enemies!”
The men perked up a bit their leader still had faith in them and they should too but he was right. As soon as the words stopped ringing through the air the healers began to scurry around once more tending to anyone and everyone as no one had come out unscythed.
“What of our dead?” Karrha asked having pulled herself away as there was no more need of her to treat the wounded.
Koron seated himself once again as the healer approached her gate uneven and slow. “Well lass, We take them back to their families.”
“And what of those still left on the battlefield?”
“I don’t know if I’m willing to risk more men to grab corpses.” Koron answered gruffly. They had lost too many already and going back to grab their dead if the victor was still there might be pushing it.
The women remained silent but she understood. After a moment her awkward gate turned and left leaving him to watch the men resting where they were. He was going to have to report this and more. how many men had died? he would have to count but for now he set in silence and thinking in honor of those that had died for this lost battle but the spirits mark his words he would get that land back.
“I see...” Al'tajin murmured as he heard the news. Koron, Seraimoiron and Namar stood silently next to one another in the large, main prayer hall of the temple in the center of Scaravus.
“So Leongarde has taken Ilean Mountains.” Al’tajin continued, having his eyes closed as he remained in meditating position. “My home...” Koron answered softly, gritting his teeth something.
“I am sorry, Koron.” Al’tajin said sincerely to the disheartened warrior, who only bowed his head slightly as the room went silent again.
“We must decide what to do next.” Seraimoiron said having walked up besides Koron, resting a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. “What’s our next move?” Namar asked eagerly from the corner of the room he was residing in. All eyes immediatly set on Al’tajin, who maintained his silence as he seemed to be waiting for something.
“The Gero Badlands are at risk… I can see soldiers bearing the banner of Leongarde, marching upon the dry steppes, towards our borders.” The aged man spoke, looking at the rest of them. “I fear our northern land may be at risk, as well: Talos.”
Everyone’s ears perked up as they heard the grave tone of the older man “All factions know well of the mysterious island that has risen next to Creefshank Bay...” Even though no words were spoken, the mood in chamber dropped even further as the men’s gazes darkened. “…Yet we do not know what these beings are that inhabit it… For some reason, I am not shown their true being and purpose… What I do know, is that they are there and are far worse than Disgeran could ever claim to be.”
“Is that even possible?” Namar asked dryly, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. It earned him stern glares from his older comrades, but Al’Tajin closed his eyes once more as he continued. “Yes… Both of them are monstrosities that plague this world… But they are a lower sort… Whatever resides on this island is far more deadly... Something even the Meragaia fear…”
A long silence followed. The men all glanced at eachother, while waiting for the prophet’s orders. And at last: “Seraimoiron, I want you to gather your men and make your way to the badlands to the west. Namar, I will leave Talos in your hands. Defend it well from whatever may attempt to claim it. Koron...” The old man turned his gaze to the remaining man. “Rest here with your men and recuperate until there is another battle that calls you.” Koron nodded and left the room to leave any planning to the others.
“I will gather my men in the morning then?” Seraimoiron said quietly and then glanced at Namar who nodded that he would do the same.
Al’tajin nodded solemnly. “Be cautious… Both of you… For dark times are upon us....”
No one could disagree with this. War was always a dark day, but at this point it could no longer be avoided.
“Seraimoiron, you will be closer to both Leongarde and Disgeran, so stay on your guard. For the enemy takes pride in the strength of a lion… But even the sting of a small scorpion, if used at the right time, can be deadly.” After a little pause, he turned his attention to the youngest of the two. “Namar, I fear that you might see the worst yet as that mist draws near to our shores.”
“I can handle anything that tries to cross our borders.” The younger man said confidently. “It is good that you believe in your skill… But never do not judge a blind man whose eyes you have not yet seen…”
Namar took a moment to figure out what the prophet, before he took in what the aged man said and stored it along with whatever arrogant thoughts he might have had.
“You know what to do and I shall pray that your choices will bear our success.” With that, the two men bowed and left. They had their orders, but neither of them got an answer to what they hoped: What is the fog?
Al'tajin set in meditation within the walls of the central temple, which seemed to some as a grand palace, and to others as beautiful sanctuary. To him it was simply a shrine to focus his mind in.
A rush of hair whistled through the windows, making the fires of the braziers inside flicker wildly for a moment. Al'tajin’s eyes flashed open, his eyes narrowing intently on the fire, until the wind died down and the shadows stopped dancing, leaving the room once again peaceful.
His eyes remained locked on the flames that now seemed to stare back defiantly, seemingly holding themselves with pride and mocking him as he sat before them. With a quick wave of his hand a gust of wind swept around the room, making each and every tiny flame flicker and die in an instant, leaving the room he was in more than a little dark.
“It can’t be...” Bound with worry, Al'tajin stood up and moved to one of the windows to look out into the night and past the walls to the dark wasteland beyond them. “So Talos has been taken…”
“Sir?!”
Turning his eyes from the window he peered back in the darkness to see another man having entered as silently as he could, despite the man’s injuries. “What of Namar?” Al’tajin had asked without hesitation, already knowing who the soldier was.
The man looked both confused and surprised, but gathered himself a second later. “Captured, sir... He was taken by Firanos...”
Al’tajin’s eyes darkened slightly, not that the man could tell from the darkness already present in the room.
“Sir?” Another man entered carefully behind the first. This one seemingly unharmed from the mission he had been sent on.
“Where is the rest of your group?” Al’tajin asked calmly. He did not feel the need to bet about the fact he could feel that they had not completely accomplished what they had gone after, but had in some way gained something and good news was welcome right about now.
The assassin bowed slightly . “They have gone ahead to see the healers and medics.”
“What about the one who led your assault? What of the man who had wished to go on this mission? should he not be the one reporting?”
“I can find him if you wish?”
“Go.” That was all that was needed to be said, as the man turned around and scurried off, leaving Al’tajin and the first soldier again. Turning his gaze to the exhausted man again, he questioned. “How was Namar taken?”
The man could not give full details of the occurrence and how the poison shadow was taken down so neatly, but he was able to give a little knowledge on it. “So… he’s not dead… but rather a prisoner... what would they intend to do with him? I doubt a man like him will give them much information to go off of.”
Dezeroth was at the doorway when the man walked by, arms folded into his robes and his hair covering those areas of his face that the shadows did not. Only his mouth was revealed. He nodded to the man as he left the building in a hurry. Stepping in, the Mage caught enough to know that one of their own number was taken. "I assume, then, that there will be a rescue mission?" The words were spoken fluidly; several times, they had been described as those of a serpent, "In that case, I don't suppose that I might get the great honor of his safe return?"
Al’tajin turned his gaze to the door way listening to the spoken words of Dezeroth. "You have only just returned, yet you believe you are up to such a task?" Not showing the least bit of surprise, Al’tajin once more proved that he was somehow expecting this. He reason to it was still unknown, though. The man did not necessarily seemed like a selfless warrior, but perhaps he was just seeking after glory.
Dezeroth nodded. "Indeed, I am ready, though...Perhaps the healer Karrha should accompany me." He gave a weak smile, "After all...Her arts are rather refined...And I'm sure she knows of medicines to heal the burns I've suffered from the last battle." Pausing a moment, he sighed. "But beyond that, my Fire-sight may grant us insight on various things for the coming mission. Such as the layout of the fortress, the current position of guards, areas idea for ambushes..." He trailed off, allowing the man to come to his own conclusion as to the rest of it.
Al’tajin was silent for a moment. Eventually, he dismissed the tired warrior. Hopefully, he too would see a healer. The name Dezeroth mentioned was not unfamiliar to Al’tajin, but hardly any name was to the old prophet. He knew of her origins and her skills. Being a healer, what other use would she have on a rescue mission? Though he knew she had picked up the bow, she was still a healer first and foremost and that wasn’t going to change. "Tell me how your own mission went, before we fully turn our attention to this new task." It was a rather mandatory question. Al’tajin had already seen how the mission had evolved so far, but he also had seen other things, leading him to question Dezeroth.
Dezeroth sighed. "Well, extracting the man was successful. Alive, however...Would have been impossible if I wanted to retain the integrity of the squad. He'd picked out Al'jun, our Archer, as the target for what appeared to be a combustive assault. In order to ensure the man did not die, I pushed him way. I used a lightning spell and shot my sword in his direction, hoping for a near-miss and an electrocution. However...He turned straight into it. The result was death. Nevertheless, we extracted the body. I attempted to coax information from his soul using magic, but all I was able to get was fire-sight." He shrugged, "Other than that, the end result is that Golems are in limited supply for Firanos. If we were to capture one mid-battle, I have all the necessary tools to begin researching their control methods.
Al’tajin frowned, but nodded "It’s unpredictable what others might do, especially during a fight, but you did well despite the setback." He said quietly. "And if you feel you can handle the rescue, then so be it, but be careful... The Fierans are perfectionists in the art of battle, and that will surely reflect in their defense of prisoners... They will be expecting you."
“Indeed they will,” He thought, nodding. "I believe I have a few ideas how to get around such defenses." He shrugged, "The most basic of which being that we may make it seem as though a larger extraction team is entering from another area, then extract him while their forces are being relocated."
Al’tajin nodded slowly, scratching his chin as he let the mage’s plans sink in, before he’d turn to gaze out the window again. “Very well then… I shall deploy a special team along with yours which shall create a diversion that should give you enough time to slip past the Fieran defenses. However… I will not allow any unnecessary deaths, and as such, I will give this strike team an exact time span within which they will retreat. If you are not inside within that time, you will have missed your chance.” Without giving the man a chance to speak, Al’tajin turned to the center of the temple again as he spoke. “Now… Take your leave. I must attend to more important matters.”
As soon as Dezeroth had made himself scarce, Al’tajin set down and begun meditating, the winds in the chamber picking up again. “It was as you predicted… Talos was lost, but indeed it will also be our shield from the coming darkness…” The winds seemed to react to Al’tajin’s words, before backing down once more, leaving the prophet alone in meditation.
With the battle won, the enemy's held back and deflected, even after having burring and morning their dead the men that where not remaining to hold Talos seemed in high spirits. this... was probably far better then having them troding home with broken spirits. They had won! held the Enemy's at bay both Firanos adn this new darkness that had tried to claim their shores, they would not doubt come back... but for now all was well.
Closer to the back of the group, Where karrha found herself more recently do t having to rest much more then she liked to after the battle with the dark beast of the black mists. She was still pretty bruised one arm tightly bandaged and hanging from a make shift strap to hold it strait. her breathing a bit labored but other then that she looked well off despite the horrific fight she had found herself in. Still something bothered her and she intended to give the mage a few words and a peace of her mind.
Dezeroth, too, was resting, his sword across his lap. The cane section had been lost in the battle; splintered by the beast, presumably. His eyes were open, and the two green disks set their sights on the blue sky. The remarkably blue sky. His mind wandered back to the fight, back to the various strategies he had tried. That had failed. I need my own personal Guard... The former mage sighed, and set his mind back to its' previous endeavor. Once again, he attempted to gather mana within himself--To at least utilize the words he had learned and now mysteriously had forgotten. But they would not come to him.
Still, he could see Karrha was looking at him, and so he looked down, giving her a smile. Several new scars donned him from the battle; his right arm was badly cut after landing on it, and there were icy-white scars running across his back from where the Shadow Beast had gripped him. "Is something on your mind?"
"You could say that." she replied, though not as sharply as she had intended. He had taken a betting as she had and she could not bring herself to be to hateful on him despite her usual demeanor. "Out of all the things to turn me into it was one of those bloody shadow beasts what gave you an idea like that?" he had changed after the battle somewhat but even she could tell... and somehow that worried her.
Dezeroth breathed deeply, sighing. "Well, I was thinking as fast as I could, honestly." He gave a shrug, "I knew that any mortal animal we had was too small and weak--You saw that thing. It was a monster. I also knew you'd need mobility, and the more leverage you could get, the better. The first thing that came to mind was the Shadow Demon. It was large, strong, it had razor-sharp claws, and it had wings. It seemed like the perfect idea." He paused for a moment, eyebrows raised. "Would you have preferred I turned you into a wolf?"
"I think I would have." she replied with a grimace. although she understood what he meant that didn't mean she liked it any better. "Next time you could consider a dragon I suppose it has almost the same appendages that you where looking at but not quite so vile." she gave a slight shake of the head. "Though I understand your reasoning for it did you have any clue if it would have an after effect or not?" she shuddered at the thought of something permanently remaining behind after that, she did not understand magic, not a whole lot.
Dezeroth shook his head. "I had no clue what to expect; that's the first time I've used that particular ritual. It takes a lot of time, and has limited use. I had never even considered using it to turn someone into something larger and more powerful until that battle, and I was unsure of how long the effect would last. Besides...I thought Shadow Demons might be able to talk, and I knew Dragons couldn't."
Karrha gave a wiry smile "I could not find a voice man only a growl. So I don't supposed it would have mattered either way." she said then sighed and prepared to push herself up again to be off once again to no doubt she would be tired once more before to long. she offered a hand to Dezeroth. " However being turned into a Ginny pig is not a favorable position and next time I may bite back should we live through the next."
Dezeroth nodded, taking the hand and rising. "Well, I'll keep that in mind. Hopefully there won't be a next time...Or if there is, that we'll have someone assisting us." The former mage grimaced, "The absolute last thing we need to be doing is taking on monsters that can easily turn the tide of battle against the dominant foe all on our own." Rubbing his chin, Dezeroth began walking down the trail. "Actually...That does beg the question: Why were we the ones facing down that creature?"
Karrha followed behind listening before turning her eyes down the trail. "Good question and one we may never answer..." she said thoughtfully "But I can tell you... for the first time in many years I believe... In higher powers." she was quite for a moment after that reflecting on the event following the end of their battle. Ik’Yamar had answered her... she did not know why, wither for their own gain or for the help of her kind she did not know this either but she was grateful for the help none the less.
Dezeroth nodded, coldly, now. "They exist." His voice hardened, but shook his head. "...But I cannot bring myself to trust them. No matter how many miracles they show us, those miracles only came about because..." He stopped for a moment, trailing off. "Well...Just know that I have a feeling they know far more than they're letting on. And they could have saved countless lives by letting us know."
To this Karrha could only node, she felt like Dezeroth was far more open with his words then he had shown before but she did not disagree. "I'm wry of their intent to but I would not say so out loud in the prescience of those that follow them so closely." she said glancing around as if to see if there where in fact any others around them but they where far behind the main group. "Even so I am glad for the intervention, we are both still alive because that small desperate prayer was answered."
Dezeroth looked over at her for a moment, mulling over speaking on the subject more...Even sharing his own theories on the matter. However, she was correct in her assessment that those around them were certainly not going to appreciate what they had to say. "We'll speak on the matter more at a later date."
Karrha watched her companion for a moment and then nodded slowly. It seemed that the two had some mutual agreement, though not a bad thing Others might not share their view on it. Even so karrha was still grateful but she said nothing more on the subject as the two turned their visions homeward.
Al'tajin gazed at the wry messenger in front of him. Koron would be unable to fight for the time being, admitted to the hospital. The agitated waves of bitter frustration and sense of loss only made the older man shift and look on the man with some pity.
“Not all is lost.” he said finely. The warrior only nodded but it did not seem like he believed that quite yet. Al’tajin knew that there would be little he could say now to mend the warrior's pride and lift his spirits. Twice they had lost to Leongarde but there was better news to come he could feel that much.
Silence passed for the span of a few seconds before footsteps where head down the corridor. Both men looked up at the door in time to see Seraimoiron enter and no sooner followed by two others. Dezeroth and Karrha, Interesting enough. Both looked like they had been in a serious ordeal, no doubt it was war after all. The woman's eyes were narrowed in some pain but otherwise she was walking tall and even gave him a little bow, as much as her battered body would allow her anyways.
Dezeroth walked somewhat gingerly, silently giving them a nod. From the bandaging around his stomach, it was obvious why he did not give a bow. He was no longer clothed in his robes, the tatters of which he had finally decided to use as a makeshift belt with which to tie his sword. Instead, he wore the loose-fitting garb of Scaravus.
Seraimoiron gave his own quite greeting glancing over at the messenger who didn't seem to want to make eye contact. "We have secured Talos." Seraimoiron said finally. Al'tajin seemed to think about this and nodded. There was a pause before Seraimoiron decided he’d best go on. "That mist... you were definitely right about being worse than Disgeran." Karrha glanced at Dezeroth and then back at the other two. So they had discussed this? She didn't know wither to be a bit angry or relieved.
Dezeroth shook his head, now, disagreeing quietly. "It is indeed more formidable than Disgeran. However...I do believe that the major advantage we had in the end was the capability to utilize magic to its' fullest. Given the flexibility it allowed us and the drastic increase in strength, I'd hazard to say we may not have fared so well had Disgeren been there. Not because they are a stronger foe, indeed, they are weaker, but because they are better suited to defeat us." He looked up, now. "However, I would like to note that whatever advantages we gain will only be gained for that battle. Due to the quick adaptations of the enemy before us, I am assuming they are capable of changing form quickly. We may end up facing a worse foe later."
Both men were listening intently to Dezeroth, before Al'tajin nodded. Karrha then spoke softly. "Changing form?" She asked bluntly. "As much as I wish I weren't, I agree." She said, glancing at herself, before looking up at the two other men who now had their gazes on her. "Those things, that thing, they don't quite seem living nor dead." She looked at Dezeroth for a moment. "I'm not even sure how exactly to describe that thing we fought despite getting such a close view of it." At this Al'tajin looked a bit curious. Seraimoiron nodded his head to this "They seem to.. recreate straight from the mist... and suck the very being out of a man." "Ya, I got a pretty good feeling of that one too..." Karrha muttered.
Dezeroth nodded, as well. "If we can find a way to reverse or counter the fog, we may well at least gain the capability to increase our morale. I'm fairly certain the only thing that kept our men from breaking line and turning tail as the Fierans did, or else they all perished, was a strong command chain. That should not be necessary." He frowned, "So unless we are willing to bring more officers to the field, which seems impractical, I advise we at least find some way of keeping a strong morale during the duration of combat."
"Easier said than done." Karrha said. "Moral can rise or drop depending on many of the things happening on the battlefield itself." "Regardless..." Al'tajin said suddenly "It is a plan, but what else do we know of this... mist." "They did seem to feed on each other to become... stronger?" She sounded uncertain. "I'm honestly not sure how to describe exactly what they did." Seraimoiron shook his head. "Hard enough to explain, we’ll stick with feeding on each other. As for the final attack, I have no idea what happened between you two and whatever beast you faced."
Dezeroth decided he may as well report on that as well, putting a hand to his chin as the image comes back to mind. "It was like the bastard child of a scorpion and a demon. With six legs that ended in spikes, it was completely black, except for what looked to be a rose-bud, right here." He pointed to the center of his chest. "It was massive; far larger than either of us. I transformed Karrha into one of the Shadow Demons we had just fought, and she came up only to its' chest. It had two arms with, with claws." He wrapped his hands around the bruises he'd suffered along his arms, "They were powerful. And an enormous maw. On its' head was a horn, capable of blinding an ordinary man. Fortunately, at the time, I had my magical shadows, so I was protected to some extent. It had wings and a tail, though the wings seemed fairly useless. The tail, however, was a weapon that could have easily wiped out a battalion of troops, and nearly killed Karrha. It was by divine grace alone that she did not die from the impact, though I could say the same for myself."
Karrha grimaced as Dezeroth mentioned turning her into that shadow demon while the other two men seemed to be a bit surprised. "More than that...", she said at last, "It was far more than divine grace that my arrow pierced its skull right on the verge of our demise... Ik’Yamar truly did watch over us." The listeners were obviously interested in the details, but it would take far too long. "I did notice that it seemed to represent a scorpion.", she commented, "It didn't strike me till now and somehow that’s troubling..."
Dezeroth nodded. "The resemblance was particularly striking because we were dealing with Scaravian soil. More likely than not, this was an Ekro attempt at driving our morale even lower, which means that they have spies of some sort."
"Spies or something more?" Karrha asked. "Either way they may know us more then we know us..." Al'tajin thought about this though did not quite look like he agreed he nodded slowly, paused and then let out a small breath. "With gaining back Talos... we have lost the Gero Badlands." His words brought were followed by silence for a moment. "Koron?" Seraimoiron asked suddenly. "Being treated now." Karrha frowned at this, she had fought alongside Koron in her first battle and though she did not know him, he was still a leader nonetheless. "Do not worry over him, healer. He is well enough without your presence for the time being. But he will be unable to fight for the time being leaving us low on generals, with Namar free, but unable to reach us right away."
Dezeroth nodded, "Speaking of, now that we have opened up the path, I believe it's time that we went to assist him. Karrha," He looked over at her, "It appears we will not have to worry about breaking into a prison." He gave her a grin, "We might just have to simply beguile an entire army."
Karrha gave an exaggerated roll with her eyes as he grinned at her. "As if fighting one wasn't enough..." Al'tajin listened to the two, who obviously had some relationship growing, though still small. He glanced at Seraimoiron and gave him a slight nod to dismiss him, no doubt he would go visit Koron. "Would you still require that diversion?" He asked solemnly turning to Dezoroth.
Dezeroth shook his head, "No. But I will need to speak with you later: I have a pressing matter of my powers being completely sacrificed in that battle, but before I do that I have some troops to rally and bring before you." He nodded his head once more and turned. "I'll be requesting an audience sometime before I head out."
Power Treshold
115
Members
NPCs
http://i935.photobucket.com/albums/ad198/bailey_067/o_crown.gifAl'tajinhttp://i935.photobucket.com/albums/ad198/bailey_067/o_crown.gif
The Prophet of Scaravus
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Ataran
The Fury of the Desert
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Seraimoiron
The Sting of the Scorpion
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Koron
The Whirling Demise
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Namar
The Poison Shadows
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Rune Tablet
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Player Characters
http://world7.knightfight.co.uk/img/rang/2.gif
Corporal Karrha Nameko (P.K.) (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=32533&p=1016016&viewfull=1#post1016016) - Runes (http://oi48.tinypic.com/hur913.jpg)
http://world7.knightfight.co.uk/img/rang/3.gif
Sergeant Dezeroth A'kyer (Eddren) (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=32533&p=1040221&viewfull=1#post1040221) - Runes (http://oi47.tinypic.com/33farzc.jpg)
Territory Controlled
Scaravian Desert
Talos
Beastiary
Swordsmen
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The Scaravian desert produces swordsmen like no other, warriors trained in the fire of the day and the ice of the night. Desert swordsmen fight craftily, knowing little of the ‘honor’ that some of the other factions wield. Hardy and cunning to a fault, many underestimate them, a fatal mistake.
Spearmen
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With a longer reach and the ability to engage multiple opponents at once, giving a spear to a Scaravian was probably the deadliest anyone could come up with. Once that wooden spear is gone, though, they are just another pig to the slaughter.
Archers
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The archers of Scaravus are used to impossible vision, practicing archery under circumstances most others would falter at. Namely, during a sandstorm. This has left most Scaravian archers deadly accurate, while sacrificing the speed of some of the other factions.
Scarab Warriors
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Granted power by the Great Scorpion himself, these fighters wear not armor, but their own skin into battle. Their skin is the only armor they need, though, as Ik’Yamar has given them plating similar to that of the scorpion, harder than steel and lighter than leather. What’s more is that for every three that fight with dual swords, another fights with a scorpion tail or pincers.
Stingers
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Using poison harvested from the scorpions of the Scaravian desert, these warriors implement lethal blow-darts that thin the enemy’s numbers one shot at a time. Quick and quiet, you’d never know they were there until your buddy falls over for no reason at all.
Assassins
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Shadowy warriors from Scaravus, these masters of the art of stealth are whispers on the field, their prey unknowing until the touch of death is upon them. Though crafty and unlikely to be caught off guard, an assassin is by no means a frontline fighter, and will die easily under a frontal assault.
Fire Mages
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Tired with the tyranny of the Phoenix King, some of the Fieran mages have left their home to pass their teachings on to the Scaravian troops, who are known to value knowledge over power. They are a large minority amongst the Scaravians, but they grant the desert army powerful supporting fire.
Renegade Shieldguard
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The famous shieldguard of Leongarde, who have grown tired of their king's rule and have joined under the Scaravian banner. They are equal in strength and abilities as their Leongardian counterparts and provide Scaravus with a powerful backbone, teaching others amongst the Scaravians their teachings.
Renegade Stormwarriors
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A good number of Aeregos' Stormwarriors have gotten tired of the ruling dynasty and have pledged their loyalty anew to the Scaravians, as per example of Seraimoiron. They do not lack in any way when compared to their counterparts in Aeregos, and as such, make a very fine addition.
Tamed Taeloron
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The deserts of Scaravus and Talos hold many secrets, one of them the secret to taming beasts such as these. These scorpions have claws the size of a man’s head and a poison that can incapacitate within a minute, which makes them deadly from head to tail. About four feet from head to tail-tip, these monsters are loyal to the Scaravians, and will strike down any who defy them.
The skulls indicate difficulty:
No skulls: Regular Enemy
1 bronze skull: Strong Enemy
2 silver skulls: Very Strong Enemy
3 gold skulls: Super Enemy
4 platinum skulls: Legendary Enemy
GOLD: Primary Treat
SILVER: Secondary Treats
Axe (Skirmisher):
Heavy Physical Damage at Close Range
Ballista/Crossbow (Ballistic):
Massive Ranged Damage
Bow (Ranged):
Standard Ranged Attacks
Cogwheel (Siege):
Massive Damage to Structures
Dripping Dagger (Assassination):
Powerful One-Hit Kill Attacks
Eye (Controller):
Masters of upsetting the balance of a battle
Fist (Brute):
Great Durability/Indestructability
Flame (Elemental):
Elemental Entity, Strong Against Physical assaults, Weak against Magic
Foot/Shoe (Rusher):
High Mobility
Mask (Lurker):
Stealth/Invisibility
Reticle (Sniper):
Extremely Accurate (from either ranged or in close-combat)
Shield (Defender):
Very Capable of holding defensive lines and forming unbreachable barriers
Sword (Soldier):
Standard Melee Attacks