A New Power

[Shadow of the Fallen]

Thrin suddenly finds himself in the courtyard, which wasn't where he was heading, but it made no difference, maybe he would find a medic out here... He had noticed that he had only been asleep for a few minutes before his distubing dream, and he was piss tired.. Yet he had to speak with a medic before he got any rest, and with Quarian...

 

The scene before him made him forget his wounds, just as the anger and adrenaline had during the battle. He gazed around at the vast number of wounded, the number beyond his recognition. Not a single man bore armor, save the invaders that were slain on the spot. This was the reason he fought, to end the mindless slaughter of innocents like this, and yet here they lay, dead at the hands of his enemies.

 

It seemed that no matter where Thrin went, death followed him like an impending shadow of doom. He knew that there was but a single reason why he hadn't died already, his oaths.. But one day his luck would run out, and there would be no more to swear an oath upon, or no blood left in his body to merit such a bond. The more he killed, the more he understood death.. And it was an agonizing realization of just how things were, the cold dark truth behind all of mans actions.

 

As he steped through the mass of bodies, he nearly forgot that he was looking for a medic. It only vaugely bothered him now, he was overwhelmed by the greif of the matter. Then he saw, a woman picked up one of the enemy soldiers. He watched almost happily in the light of this destruction that one of the culprits was to be slain, and was enraged that even one had been left alive. He watched then as she broke the mans neck, and began to take his equipment.

 

Thrin thought it would be a good idea to talk to such a person, it would be a sweet release to have someone to speak with after such a battle.. He remembered Quarian, and that he should go see him as well, he would do that later.

 

He approached as she was taking the mans greaves. He didn't notice the wobble in his own step.. Tired as he was.

 

"Hello there miss," he bagan, unsure of what to say, "eh.. I saw you kill him from over there.." he points to the door he came out, "and I.. uh..." With a groan, Thrin fell to the ground, the bleeding from his arm set anew and forming a puddle beneath him.. He droped his weapons into the solid earth, and landed on all fours, gasping for air. His body felt like it was being jabbed with a thousand needles all at once.. And he couldn't focus..

 

Darkness clouded his vision, and he heard it again, the whisper from his dream... It was as crysal clear now as it had been before, as if he had never forgotten it. But the words were in another language, one he just barely understood.

 

Ish garrahd neen faalt. Noshukahn derinve harra. Jensu khelhon nefarthu.

 

Only the words dominated his mind, he knew his was still awake, but he could see nothing... He was dripping with sweat, but he felt only the dampness. He couldn't think straight though he struggled.. The words were frightening, like a dead man speaking from the grave. He felt sick, but he didn't know if it was the dream or if it was real.. Everything was so muddled, so thick, so angry... He felt almost as if he were the dead man speaking, like he had entered oblivion.. He treid to bring himself back around trying to regain his thoughts, but he couldn't. Everything melted together until only the words stood out.

 

Ish garrahd neen faalt. Noshukahn derinve harra. Jensu khelhon nefarthu.

 

Armiena only saw him on the ground grasping breaths frantically, and the blood. Not that there wasn't blood everywhere, but it was soaked into the cloth of his pheasants garb, all the way down the left arm. There was a lot of blood, and it was easy to guess that he had already lost a good deal in combat. His eyes were wide open, though they seemed to stare into space instead of the ground. His dusty brown hair was matted down with sweat.

 

His body was locked ridged, as if he was struggling with all his might against the ground, trying to push away from some invisible force. He needed a medic, and fast.

[ensis]

Akechi took a while to meet up with Quarain after taking part in the final skirmish, and checking on the wounded. He only had minor injuries, some deep scratches and a cut from a grazing arrow. He noticed a large blood stain on Quarain's bandages.

 

"Quarain," Akechi said, interrupting any conversation, "we should check and replace your bandages right away."

 

Noticing the Habassan commander that aided the battle greatly today Akechi bowed and gave his respect.

[thanateros]

Vengul, annoyed that this new arrival assumed he could annul his question addressed to Quarian turns sharply and without effort has a throwing knife at the neck of the newcomer.

 

"Mind your manners yearling," he commands without opening his teeth, affectively holding back his obvious anger for such disrespect. "Where I come from we cut out the tongue of people like you." He slowly slides the knife away from Akechi's neck and resheathes it.

[MDRud216]

The sudden gathering around him confused Quarian, but he was glad to see his comrades alive. There were a few new one's, and he had a feeling that each of them would play an important role in what was to come.

 

Startled, Quarian looks to Akechi with relief, "You are my most trusted friend, Akechi. i do not want it to end today. At sunset make your way to the Emperors council chamber, there will be a meeting to decide the answer to all of our questions," Quarian says shifting his gaze to Vengul for his last phrase.

 

Quarian calls for a mercanery, "give this message to all on this list," he says handing the man a hastily scrawled peice of paper.

 

Armiena

Alenee B'Elen

Kataiyo

 

ooc: I am leaving the time open for posts for people who want to take another action before i go "a few hours later"

 

From across the square Quarian spots the young man who had confronted him on the battlements, sprawled out on the ground... "Akechi, my bandages can wait! help him."

[thanateros]

Vengul, displeased with the ambiguity of the response retires to the ramparts where the survivors of the battle are tossing corpses over the wall into the field.

 

"You'll have to move them further from the city, you know," he tells one of the mercenaries, "you don't want a plague do you?"

 

The man looks at him, "sure, later, but for now we're just clearing the walls. I suggest you help."

 

Vengul conceeds and starts emptying the ramparts of mangled bodies, holding in the nausa induced by open wounds and steaming flesh.

[Breton Thief Oriana]

Kataiyo, slowly returning to the smoldering pile of ash that is the city, is amazed at the sight he sees. He wonders what happened to the revolutionaries in arms, and hurries at the thought. He cannot shed the pangs of guilt he feels. A wandering boy approaches him, recognised as a dojo friend.

 

"Kataiyo! I have come looking for you, and had not expected to find you so fast." this new boy greeted him

 

"I havnt been in town for a while, how bad is the damage?" Kataiyo responded.

 

"Oh, Tai, its terrible...burning corpses everywhere...death and an aweful smell...we better head back"

 

"Agreed, but lets part upon nearing...I dont want you to die for me as well"

 

"Kataiyo, we are sworn breathren. I would die for you just as soon as I know you would die for me."

 

Kataiyo pondered these words. He knew that was what it meant to be part of this allegiance, and knew that he would make his next act of treason in an active attack, fighting along side his new breathren, and Quarion, who he now considdered his father.

 

They walked toward town and didnt stop until they reached the interior of the aftermath, at which point his schoolmate dispersed to aid in the recovery of wounded battalions.

[ObsidianKnight]

Akechi rushes over to Thrin, bringing a handful of bandages.

"He's lost a lot of blood," he says, as he bandages Thrin's wounds.

"It's really a miracle that he's managed to fight the whole battle in that kind of condition."

 

When he has finished wrapping Thrin's wounds, Armiena helps him carry Thrin away from the burning bodies.

[MDRud216]

ooc: lets try to refrain from doing that, but I see the condition and no harm done.

 

Evening, Emperors Council Chambers

 

Quarian looks across the oaken table at Aseir, waiting for him to speak. Thrin had found his way to the table also, forming a strange melting pot of people.

 

Vengul, a traveling foreigner, Thrin, a freelancer seeking revenge upon his enemies, Aseir, A Habassan general, Kataiyo, a dojo student, Akechi, the young man who had saved Quarians own life.

 

"Where is Alenee B'Elen?" Quarian directied this question to Aseir, "Has she fallen?"

[Shadow of the Fallen]

Not knowing who Alenee was, much less if she was alive or not, Thrin said nothing. And while he sympathized for them should their close ally be lost, he frankly didn't feel any emotion for or against the person. Had he known them maybe he would feel different, but he had other things on his mind.

 

He dimly remembered passing out, and then being moved from the courtyard in broken flashes. He remembered seeing a lot of blood, but wether it was his or someone elses he didn't remember. Everything then seemed so different.

 

But he clearly remembered the voice. Unlike the dream, which he had forgotten when he woke, the voice then stayed with him.. He only knew one of the words, surrender. The fact that he only knew that one word was not only perplexing, but frightening. He dared not think of what may have happened had he surrendered.

 

None the less, he had been bandaged in short order, and had a moderate rest, but was still weary. A medic had told him that it was from loosing so much blood in the battle, and he hardly doubted that, but it was more then just weakness. It was the fatigue of the battle, and the adrenaline letdown.

 

It was a wonder that he had made it up to the Emporer's council hall, by all standards he probably should have been dead in that battle.. It was more of a wonder that he was even alive. True, it would take a bit to recover from the battle, but the mere fact that he had an opportunity to recover amazed him.

 

He knew why he never liked open combat, this only proved his resoning. He'd much rather harrass an army with a small group of men than fight them in an all out meat grinder. He could accomplish much more using his tactics, he figured, even a much larger army would fall if you were careful and conservative. Dead was dead, and that ment that you had to use your head in war. If you didn't, by one means or another you would find yourself dead.

 

As he thought about all this, Thrin leaned back in his chair, resting his head on his cloak which he had draped over his chair. He was mildly comfortable, save for his left arm, which throbbed painfully underneath the layers of bandages. He had some around his chest and abdomen as well where he had been grazed by weapons and hadn't noticed. They weren't as bad, but still required tending lest they become infected.

 

Because of all the bandages, and because it reeked of blood, he no longer was wearing his shirt, revealing his musculature between bandages and on his right arm. He wasn't brawny or overly bulky, but sturdily built and well conditioned for speed. In combat, speed was life.

 

He had on a pair of slacks though, a fresh pair that had been provided by a soldier that had helped Akechi and Armenia move Thrin. The help was more out of courtesy then nessesity, but when he saw the condition of Thrin's body and clothing, he had readily offered anything that he could to help. Thrin silently prayed a thank you for the man, it wasn't much, but the pants were more protection against the weather then bandages, and they were rather comfortable.

 

Thrin drummed his fingers lightly on the table while he waited for the conversation to progress to something more interesting. It wasn't that he didnt care, but he was bored, like a child in church waiting for the bell to toll and for the people to shuffle out of the building, though the preacher continued to drone on. A child often had difficulty keeping still in such situations, and this was the case with Thrin now.

 

His mind was again brought out of the room, he thought about how he came to be in the room. He had originally been looking for the soldier he had borrowed his sword from. The man was dead. He had taken an arrow to the chest, and by the look on the corpses face, one of the mercinaries said, it had been a total surprise. Thrin had returned the sword then by burying it. Again, Thrin found he could only symapthize in thought, but was numb in heart.

 

The two other blades he had kept for himself, seeing as they belonged to dead men. After he had awoken - and gained some of his strength back from a herbal tea one of the doctors had provided - Thrin had inspected and cleaned the weapons. The hunting knife was a brilliant weapon. More finely crafted then he had thought. And the longsword was decent. The blade was sharp and even, well balanced but not perfect, and it was sound. While Thrin admired the work on the knife, the sword was his best freind in the past battle, and he had become accustomed to it.

 

Thinking of the blades though.. He remembered how gruesome the battle had been. He remembered the dance with death, the danger, he reveled in the thought. Combat was exquisite, pain, pleasure, fury, anger, it was a swirling vortex of emotion, of action and reaction. Of death.

 

A cold shiver of dread ran down his spine as he remembered the voice again. The cold deathlike sound. Worse though, was when it had seemed like he was saying the words. An icy chill ripped through him.

 

He heard it again.

 

Ish garrahd neen faalt. Noshukahn derinve harra. Jensu khelhon nefarthu.

 

He blocked the voice out of his mind and immediatly began to think of other things. He attempted to drown the voice with his other thoughts. It seemed to work for the moment and he focused on the task at hand. The icy chill hadn't left, but at least the voice was not bothering him at the moment.

 

 

OOC: Yes, it's true, somewhere in there I did spend a whole paragraph talking about a pair of pants.

[Chunky_Moose]

(OOC: I'm back but i need to essentially jump a whole week in time for my character to arrive, so therefore can you guys plz finish up ur little social gather and get to the next battle with the late reinforcements plz)