A New Power

[Shadow of the Fallen]

An out of place figure dances among the shadows of the battle, about as inconspicuous as blood on a white sheet. He dances past the clashing skimishers, running from the chaos. He appears rather defensless in contrast to the raging warriors engaged in fierce melee around him, perhaps an escaping commoner. But none the less, it seems only too out of the ordinary.

 

More disturbing is the direction he moves, towards the battle. Yes, he skirts the individual brawls, but he seems to be making his way to the core of the city. Perhaps he tempts death. Perhaps he is a fool. In the heat of battle, none pay any heed, but those that notice sense somthing odd, even if its just slight suspicion.

 

OOC: What better place to jump into a storyline then head-over-heels into the spot of greatest chaos?! :D

 

He reaches a spot of lighter battle, the imperials making an advance upon a smaller number of aggressors (I hope im right in assuming that the party is the one attacking the city). Taking only a moment to asses the situation, he comes to the conclusion that they will undoubtedly be overrun.. Action must be taken.

 

Less conspicuous now, he moves around the outer edge of the battle, attempting to gain surprise on the rear of the line. When he fails in his attempt, he is spotted two of the imperial soldiers rush in to attack.

 

The first swings high, and is greeted with air and a fist a moment later.. The second slashes downward with stinging force, glancing the man. Taken aback at the sudden strike, the man stumbles backward a pace. The first soldier uses the opportunity to attack again, but, being a little slower then his partner, he is again slicing only empty air with his sword. This time, the counter-attack is disarming, hiting the bare wrist with a good amount of force. His sword anounces its arival to the ground with a clang, and is soon retrived by the pheasent as he retreats to the shadows.

 

The two gaurds follow quickly into the twisting web of streets and alley ways, pursuing the man and the stolen weapon. Meanwhile, dashing only meters ahead, the man tries desperatly to find a way out of his own trouble. He spies a side alley and heads down it, realizing then that it is a dead end.

 

'Two versus one aren't very good odds, even if one is unarmed... I have to kill one of them before the other can bring his weapon against me...' the man ponders, stressing to come up with a plan to get out of this mess. He then realizes something rather conveinent about the alley way.

 

The two soldiers bolted down the alley way, seeing a flash of torn fabric some distance away, they turn down the alley way disturbed suddenly that there is nothing but a dead end. They inspect the area a moment, before turning to leave. The first decides to get back to the battle, and as the other reluctantly follows, clearly attached to his weapon, he looks back. With that last look to the alley, he gives up his hope of ever retreving his sword. When he does finnaly step out of the alley, he hears a sudden bump behind him.. It's then that he finds the weapon, though not were he expected it.. Peircing his abdomen up to the hilt.

 

With a twist and a yank, the man pulled the weapon free of the lifless corpse. The other soldier some ways off now, he is no longer a threat. A little less creative then he would have liked, but he got lucky that the walls were close enough for him to streach out and hold himself up a few meters above ground. He was begining to think they would never leave, and that he would have fallen and been slain. Another close call, but nothing new to his life.

 

He began to search the body for useful items other then the short sword. Finding nothing that wouldn't have him mistaken as an imperial soldier (like the armor) he appraised the sword. Nothing special about it, well taken care of, though the craftmanship was fairly poor. He would need to find another soon. Never the less, he retrived the scabbard and baldric from the dead soldier, adorning himself with his booty. Once again, he stole away from the alley in his previous inconspicuous-out-in-the-open manner, nursing the arm he only now realizes is stabbing with pain.

 

OOC: *Grins* just give me a lead and watch me fly! Don't want to barge in on anything anyone else has going on atm. :D

[Breton Thief Oriana]

From out of the trees and stages of meditation comes Kataiyo. He had not been seen since before the seige, perfering to run and hide. After all, he was only a child, right? and his skill in battle had not been perfected, right?

 

His conscience burned him on the inside as he listened to the fray. He could only follow a courageous young man, seeming about six years his elder, charge headstrong into battle.

 

Taken by suprise, kataiyo falls out of the tree from a stray arrow. His arm lifted in time for the missile to only forceably impale his bracer and wrist, but He knew it was important to find help, and to help his cause as well.

 

He heard the sounds of the zypherous winds howl into the morning sun. A west wind brings tides of looking back and having regret, Id better fix this. Kataiyo called to the nearest of the new mercinaries, "Better fall back! I have cloth, and were both wounded. Trust me, we arent suited for battle like this." He removes the arrow and wraps it in this cloth.

 

Kataiyo observes this brave man ignore him, but has no feeling about it.

 

Kataiyo stealthilly flanks the guards, perfering to enter the fortress on his own. He scales the wall in his black clothes, briliantly masquerading against the midday. His wound drips crimson hues from the back of his wrist. As he enters the fortress through a dimly lit window, he notices the internal lock on this room he is in, and listens to the heavy breathing of soldiers in slumber. Sounds like three, I beter make it quick!, he thinks to himself. With a piece of cloth, he gags one and slits thier throat, three times, one at a time.

 

Terror soon abounds in his mind, as he thinks about his new foolish tactic. He can only pray for their souls, and prey on their enemies, from the inside. A rope of cloth sheets is let from this window in these guards quarters, but Kataiyo cannot yell this to the mysterious man of iron will he saw earlier, for fear of his discovery. He can only hope that this man sees this and follows, survival will not be garunteed.

 

OOC: Um, I think Ill continue this in a new thread, but It would be good to have that as a transition. If you dont want to follow, dont. Im going for a sort of "splinter cell" cloak and dagger thing. If you do, PM me and Ill make it.

[Peregrine]

"DRAW!"

 

The single yell, in a voice of clear command, cut through the fighting. A few fighters looked around for it's origin, but most paid it no attention. The handfull of soldiers who managed to spot its source did so far too late.

 

"FIRE!"

 

The command was almost lost in the snap of bow strings as several hundred flaming arrows arced over the battle. The arrows smashed into the flank of the invading army, and over two hundred of its soldiers died in the first salvo. The flames only added to the destruction and panic, and the entire side collapsed into chaos, just short of open retreat.

 

From a hill about two hundred yards from the invaders Commander Aseir Miristar watched the results of his fire. His men had arrived as fast as their horses could carry them, and now his four hundred archers and their pikeman screen were positioned to swing the battle. It had been a dangerous gamble that left other cities open to attack, but it looked like it had paid off...

 

Behind him, his archers drew back their second arrows. He lit his arrow on his torch, then took aim at another concentration of invading soldiers. Once the flames were burning nicely, he released the arrow. As soon as it hit, the archers behind him released their arrow storm into the target he had designated.

 

The effects of the second salvo were every bit as impressive as the first. Nearly the entire group collapsed dead or dying, and the few survivors turned and ran. More and more soldiers followed their example as the panic spread. Throughout the invading army, soldiers began to break formation and run.

 

Away from the mercenaries, Aseir noted with satisfaction. Just to give them more encouragment, he fired another arrow to mark the soldiers closest to the mercenaries. As the arrows tore their formation apart, the soldiers suddenly discovered a higher priority than the escaping mercenaries.

 

As the last remains of order disappeared from the invading army, Aseir fired a single unlit arrow, the signal for his archers to begin choosing their own targets. Around him, his pikemen readied their weapons to hold off any invaders that might pick a suicidal charge to die with honor.

 

Almost there, Aseir thought as his scattered fire began to turn retreat into general panic. A few more minuites and the battle would be "won"...

[Shadow of the Fallen]

Silently Thrin made his way to the Imperial Fortress, from the looks of the battle things were going well, though he had been told to find "refuge" within the walls of the fortress. With any luck, he would find the one he was searching for there...

 

When confronted by a group of soldiers within the fortress, he got them to apprehensively let hi go on his way. It took some pursuasion, but they belived that he was actually a pauper running from the chaos. The smartest thing he did was conceal the Imperial Shortsword, as that would have raised way too much suspicion.

 

"Where is the man Quarian, soldier?" the question was asked with sincerity that almost overwhelmed Thrin as he asked it.

 

"And why would I be tellin you?" came the soldiers gruff reply, obviously not one to be fooled by simple tactics.

 

"I have a message of vital importance for him, you must tell me where he is!" Thrin was progressivly amazing himself with the inflection and tone he could manipulate his voice with, even when speaking only half-truths.

 

"I doubt it, leave me." The soldier was a bit difficult to crack, too much wasted time for the effort, and he probably didn't know. Thrin took this as his cue to huff off in a angry could for the sake of appearences. He had to see Quarian in person. He would not speak of his ends to these simple soldiers. Many a time had he dodged men of simmilar ability on his smuggling operations.

 

Down a few dank hallways he traveled, with no particular direction, simply looking for the man in charge... You would think these people would be easy to find, but nothing, nothing was ever easy.

[MDRud216]

ooc: Breton theif Oriana, it is mid morning, not night and there is no storm.

 

What seemed as though it would turn to a seige had just nearly ended in 4 seconds. From his place atop the battlements Quarian witnessed 3 volley firings from a hilltop somewhere. Alenee

 

ooc:

As he emerged he witnessed a huge ball of flame erupt over the cities palaside wall, setting it ablaze. The fields were burning and thousands of figures moved amongst the flames. It was a march on the city.

just for reference.

 

The attack on the city was now chaos, nearly half of the invaders who had filled the valley were dead and the remaining officers struggled, yelling frantically to form ranks once again.

 

Their efforts were failing, and in a desperate act an officer fired a burning arrow toward the zenith of the sky, a universal signal for an all-out charge. He could only hope that it would be recognized as the signal, and not enemy fire.

[Shadow of the Fallen]

Thrin continued his movement though the Imperial Fortress, making note of exits incase things went bad. And it was entierly possible for things to go very, very bad.

 

"It wont be easy..." he muttered to himself again, "Nothing ever is these days." The lone man stole into a storeroom as two guards marched past. Muttering again, he continued up the hallway, in the direction of the soldiers.

 

At the top of a tower on the northeastern side he had a rare opportunity to glance out a window at the battle below. The attackers were being beaten to a retreat. And the fires were now making an advance on the fortress. Again he growled about the flames and nothing being easy and continued up a spiral stair case hoping that somehow he would reach the battlements. And where he thought Quarian would be.

 

But to no avail he found that the staircase did not, in fact, reach the battlements at all, but rather it stoped short a floor or so below. It was hard to tell because of the lack of windows or any other way of telling how high one was. And of course, there were no maps of the facility lying about. He considered stealing a uniform and trying agian to ask the soldiers about how to meet Quarian, but to what good end?

 

None, he thought to himself as he dodged another patrol. Instinctivly he glanced around the room as he listened for the fading steps of the soldiers. The room was not much different then the last one he had stole into, avoiding the consistant patrols. He did notice one thing though, one of the crates held a fine cloak, if not a bit weathered, among a few other personal belongings.

 

After snatching up the cloak and pulling up the hood, he found that it hid his pheasents cloathes in a pleasable manner, so that they were nearly unseen when he stood straight with his arms at his sides. With a satisfied grin he agan looted the crate for any other useful items. He found a few letters and a sketch of a man and a woman.

 

"So, captain James is it?" he whispered to himself in the dim lighting, "Sorry, you wont be needing these anymore." After gathering everything he had taken from the wooden box, he noticed an imperial knife lying at the bottom of the crate. It was a long hunting knife, its blade sharp and clean, and its scabbard adorned in silver-workings. Against his own recomendation of taking yet another imperial weapon, he hooked the weapon to his belt. Its adorning overshadowed the sword he had attained earlier and made it feel insignificant in comparison. Thrin decided that, imperial or not, he liked his new weapon.

 

After putting the rest of the things into the crate, he stole out of the storeroom and up the hallway, reaching another tower and glancing out the window. He was on the south side, with less of a veiw of the battle (or he wasn't looking at the battle, whatever works) and good veiw of the morning sky. He took in a breath of fresh air before continuing down the hall. It was a wonder how such a bloody battle could preceed such a beautiful morning. Perhaps it was the battle that made this seem that much more serene and welcoming. None the less, it was time to move.

 

When the next patrol came around, he didn't dodge out of the way. Instead he walked swiftly, yet uncertainly up to them. When they drew out their swords at his approach he had to hold back the urge to run.

 

"Gentlemen," he bagan slowly, "do not be alarmed. I do not come against you. I have a message for your leader, please I must see him!" He hoped that a twinge of desperation would be enough for these gaurds.

 

One of them snarled, "you're no messenger boy, you're an assasin!" He made a move to attack, but the other, bigger gaurd held him back.

 

"You don't know that! What if he brings news of enemy reinforcements or something! You would kill him and then we may suddenly be cast into a loosing battle! You are a fool if you attack this man, yet. Tell us, stranger, what news do you bring?" The mans voice was gruff and commanding, but the man was wiser then his counter-part, and more troublesome.

 

At the question, he could only answer truthfully. Glancing away at the ground, Thrin made his reply, "I bring news is all I can say, weather it will please your master Quarian, or force him to try and kill me, thats is his to decide."

 

The two gaurds were a bit more cautious now, but less fearful that this man was an assasin, the way he stared at the ground like that, and the sincerity in his tone was all but too much. He wasn't lying, they knew that, but they didn't want to simply tell him where their commander was and continue on their patrol.

 

The bigger gaurd was the first to put words to their thoughts, "we belive you, though I don't know how you simply got up here. Security is murder down below. However, if we simply bring you up to the ramparts we will be asked too many questions. I don't think it can be done. They will not be as kindhearted as we."

 

"Hmmm... you have a point, what if you didn't simply escort me up there in the way you are thinking." A grim smile came to him as he said this, he would finnaly make it up to the ramparts.

 

"What do you mean?" the smaller gaurd asked.

 

Thrin pointed at the shackles around his belt, "shackle me, and bring me up there saying that it was requested that Quarian be the one to interrogate me. When we get there you just take the shackles off and I'll talk to him. If things don't go well, then you and your freind can try and kill me. But I hope things aren't like that." He looked the larger man in the eye, "sound fair?"

 

"It does," they both answered in unison.

 

"Then give me the irons, I want this to be overwith so that bygones can be bygones."

[ObsidianKnight]

She knew the building she was planning to jump onto was of a familiar design. It was a Legion storehouse, which meant armory. Which, of course meant that even though the building was be stuffed full of spears, swords and arrows (all nasty stuff to fall on top of), the roof would be heavily reinforced. Which meant that nothing short of a large rock hurled from a catapult would break in.

 

Armiena takes a quick count, then jumps over the street as a volley of arrows whistles into the ranks of raiders. She makes a solid landing.... and crashes right through the roof. It must have been savaged by termites.

 

Fortunately, her landing was softened by a rather large pile of hay. She lies in it for a few seconds, taking the time to remember that the Legions were not the weapons-happy barbarians that she had come to think of them as. It was a supply building, not an armory.

 

Armiena runs out of the storehouse, heading for the palace. Another volley of arrows clears the streets, and the invaders break formation and run for their lives. This was way too easy, even with the flames to contend with...

[Shadow of the Fallen]

OOC: Gona get to the point. As it is im bored as hell at the moment. And the only way to disperse it is direct, charecter to charecter, interaction. :D Enjoy!

 

Thrin's mood was steadily getting darker. This was the moment of reckoning, either this man would decide to have a new ally or a new enemy today. The Impirum was going to burn. The hatred he harbored with them was almost too much to bear, and so must be expelled. This was a matter of vengeance.

 

The stone hallways would have seemed no brighter to him had they been a open to a clear sky at midday. They couldn't have seemed any warmer either. With his mood, he easily fell into the role of a captured enemy, coming to be interrogated. But when he arrived at his destination he would be the one asking the questions.

 

He did notice though, through his shroud of near rage, that the way to the ramparts would have taken him hours to find. It made no difference at this point. All that mattered to him was that the imperium was going to fall, and he was going to be the one to do it. He needed these people though, they were white-hot with the same vengence he felt. They had begun the revolt. They were ready to be fashioned into the blades of the rebellions order. Thrin held the armorers hammer. The time to strike was near.

 

Down another twisting hall they went, and up a flight of stairs. The two guards halted at a door at the top of the stairs. They both looked at each other uneasily.

 

"Move," Thrin commanded with a voice full of venom. They obeyed, struck to action by the poison of the mans words. Light flooded in from the doorway with a swift gust of wind as the door was opened. Outside the weather was as nice as Thrin had thought it to be, but it wasted its effort and its beauty on him. He was in the same mood he had been in a year ago, when his family was found dead and he was left with nothing. When he watched his fledgling rebellion die in the streets.

 

He was set to spend a good number of years in a prison afterward. But was released early because of the lack of evidence in his trial. He had to admit that the empire was stupid.

 

After walking a ways down the ramparts, the two guards knelt before a man. One of them unshackled Thrin and told him to bow, he couldn't tell which. He didn't pay any heed to the mans words anyway, what did it matter?

 

"Quarian I assume.. I have come to speak with you."

[Breton Thief Oriana]

Recon Mission, moved here due to GM request.

 

Guards off duty blissfully snored in their chambers, as Kataiyo made his way upstairs towards the battlehall. All manor of voices could be heard. Luckilly, Kataiyo had good memory, trained from his days as Imperial spy.

 

Kataiyo the vocies depart and the door turn to be opened. Thinking quickly, he climbed the narrowwalls and braced himself between the gap just bellow the ceiling. As a commander emerged, Kataiyo droped his foot into the mans head and quickly slit his throat. Dragging his body away, He stripped the man of his clothing and doccuments and dressed himself as the man. Perfectly disguised in enemy colors, Kataiyo was free to search the fortress. He took war plans, showing the stretch of Soldiers. With this, the revolution might stand a chance. Kataiyo then walked swiftly, without making eye contact, toward the nearest exit. He carried all his old clothing with him.

 

Kataiyo had emerged, and made his way away from the burning city. However, he could not wait to find his brothers. He left towards the river, where He could be sure to find someone recognisable, but changed into his former clothing first.

[MDRud216]

Quarian saw the man before him, he was at his mercy. His shoulder had stopped bleeding but he had not the strength to pull back a bowstring or stand by himself.

 

"What do you want?"