A New Power

[Peregrine]

Lost in his own thoughts, Aseir didn't notice the identity of the man walking behind him. Too many problems and too little time he thought with annoyance, dismissing the fragments of plans that had been occupying his thoughts. What he needed was some peace and quiet.

 

As he walked along the outer wall towards his temporary quarters, he paused midstep and turned to look out into the night. For a few minuites, he stared off into the darkness in the south. Too much hidden there....

 

Finally, he noticed the man standing silently near him. Pulling his cloak around him tighter against the now-apparent chill of the night, Aseir walked over to join him. "Something on your mind?" he asked, hoping for the words of wisdom that would resolve all his problems.

[ensis]

"Aesir, let me first tell you how much I admire Alenee as a soldier and her prowess in archery. I've noticed you have the same air of confidence and power in your own areas of expertise as well. Indeed, your army is perhaps the most formidable force we know. I let you know now that I represent the empire of Golar; this is where my alliance lies to the end of time. I know you feel the same way of Habassa. This is why I ask, your true intentions, is Habassa truly an ally of Golar or will we find ourselves in a war soon?" Akechi asked Aesir this with utmost sincerity.

 

OOC: Is it too soon for alliances? Will Habassa attack Golar? FIND OUT on the next episode of A New Power!!! :lol:

[Peregrine]

A laugh managed to slip past Aseir's control before he could reply. "War? That's the last thing I want! I came here to stop one war, not to replace it with another. My full motivations must remain hidden from the world, but I assure you, conquest of Golar is not among them."

[MDRud216]

ooc: you can continue your conversation if you want to... just say the previous night... you know whatto do but it looks finished enough to me.

 

morning had arrived, and with it a rider from the south, eager to deliver his message to Golar. His horse found its way over the rubble at a breach in the wall, he galloped through the streets. passing many people gathering their charred belongings or just wandering in awe of the aftermath.

 

"let me through! let me through!" he hollered up onto the inner battlements, a random warrior found the strength to release the counter weight and the gate opened, allowing the messenger to pass through.

 

He dismounted the horse and walked into the hall, a table with one broken leg was in the center of the room, and random chairs scattered about the room. Tucked away under a pile of rubble darels corpse was begining to stink. He scaled a flight of stairs and found his way to the halls upper level, various halls led off to the emperors quarters and other rooms...

 

from one of them Quarian apeared and anounced himself: "You there, who are you looking for? the emperor is dead, and most of his henchmen dead."

the messenger turned, "Who is in charge here?" he asked.

"no one person, but i will attend to whatever buisness you have in Golar."

"I am a messenger from GreyMoor, did you not see our signal yesterday evening?"

Quarian's attentiveness raised at the mention of Castle greymoor, "Yes, I did see the smoke rising to the south, I hoped a messenger would follow... what have you come to tell us?"

"Castle GreyMoor was beseiged by a massive force three nights ago, it seemed quite hopeless until a resistance arrived, led by a man named aseir I beleive, also were the armies of other cities throughout the Empire. We fended them off but they joined with a second force and continued up the river valley, It looks like the attack here was more devestating."

"It was swift and powerful, If not for Aseir we would have fallen as well. In the excitment last night with the arrival of Thrin's army I guess he forgot to mention what he knew?" he phrased it as a question.

"There was mass confusion during the battle, i am sure there is a lot on his mind-" he looked toward another door, "ahh, master Aseir, we were just speaking of you," the messenger said.

[Shadow of the Fallen]

OOC: Leave it to a hurricane to kill the power when things start to heat up again...

 

IC: While you may have only made note of it at the time, not wanting to disturb personal business, the sounds of shouting and the clashing of steel arose to acompany the already noisy army surroundings. Outside, on the ramparts and all around the courtyard, people were watching a small, makshift arena and the two combatants within. As they went at each other, the cheering and wild shouting grew louder..

 

The first contestant you did not recognize, being covered from head to toe in a suit of platemail and bearing a mace and shield. He held the colors of Ganuros. The other you instantly recognized as Thrin, an expression of blind fury apparent on his face. He wore no armor, and neither had he a shield. Only a simple sword in his right hand and his long hunting knife in his other. Yet the way he fought clearly showed that he would be no easy target.

 

The first man swung the mace with an audible grunt, aiming for Thrin's head. Thrin moved with lightning agility, ducking below the attack as though his opponent were a statue; and when the arc of the weapon was completed, he sprung upon his opponent and knocked him off balance. While the heavily armed man was still recovering, Thrin dropped low again, this time pulling the mans legs out from under him and forcing him on his back.

 

Both fighters scrambled to opposite sides of the arena then, neither seriously injured, yet. This time, though, the armor-clad man decided it would be best to drop his shield and go for a two-handed battle axe, which was readily supplied by his supporters behind him. Swinging the great weapon wildly about his head, the man charged at Thrin, attempting to cleave him in two. When his stroke came down he was met only with air, and a sudden heel in the back. The man was shoved, once again, to the ground as Thrin stood silently behind him.

 

Thrin's face was of cold stone as his attacker came a third time, bringing the his weapon up low and cursing in some foreign language. This time, Thrin only let the weapon come, before swiftly deflecting it at the last moment with both his knife and his sword. The axe slipped past him harmlessly as Thrin brought up his hunting knife and severed the wooden handle of the axe. The blade fell to the ground heavily, useless without the handle, which the man was now attempting to use like a club.

 

Each blow was blocked in the manner of a professional assassin, swift and resolute but with no more emotion then the dust at his feet. Thrin never hesitated or wasted a move, while his opponent moved about in a confusing rage. Thrin saw each attack coming while his opponent saw nothing. And yet Thrin hadn't played anything more then defensive up to this point, always letting his attacker come to him. Finnaly, his face seemed to become darker then before, his mood somehow blighted further by something new.

 

He began to attack. Each swing finding its mark surely and smoothly, probing gaps in the armor. The man wearing the armor again found his shield, and began a vain attempt to defend himself from the sudden, merciless onslaught. In his other fist he clenched white-knuckled to the wooden shaft of the axe, now only a stub. Thrin's blades came down in swift arcs, pounding relentlessly on the man's armor, each blow creating both a dent and a ominous clang of metal.

 

Then his pattern of attack suddenly changed once more, instead of attacking, Thrin suddenly drew back, dropping his knife into its sheath and clutching at his side and injured shoulder, which had once again started to bleed profusly. He stood there, injured, while his opponent regained his senses and gathered his wits. Someone gave the armored man a broadsword, while others cheered him on. Resolutly, the man walked forward, assured now a victory against Thrin, and he began to speak, though from your vantage point you couldn't hear the words.

 

That was his last, fatal mistake. With a battle cry, "to the hells with you!" the man charged at Thrin, the broadsword raised high and ready for the kill. An instant later, a flash of blades had you blinded and then the dust cleared.. Silence that could have been cut with a knife was held over the entire castle as every eye with an intrest looked on at the impossible. The man was impaled through the neck with Thrin's blade, his own sword lying on the ground in silent tribute to his death. The blade was positioned just below the helm where it met evenly with the breastplate, but in his false sense of victory, Thrin's weapon had found the gap.

 

Wordlessly, Thrin wrenched the blade from the man's neck and sheathed it, while a medic jumped in the circle to inspect both Thrin and the other man. Thrin's face was still cold stone, the face of an emotionless killer. He turned to the crowd suddely, ignoring the medic that was trying to get to him. They gasped and jumped back a step, not wanting to face his fury.

 

"Altarus is dead. A man I once knew as a friend now finds eternal rest with the lord of death. His blood is on my hands. If you, for anyone instant, think that I enjoy this moment, you are mistaken!" He paused, letting his speech soak through, "I resent this moment more then any I have ever had!... But letting his betrayal lie among my people is far worse then my loss, and I would have it no other way. Soon, I will make a call to my people, asking them to accept death as their savior in this war.. For I am a dead man, and so I cannot lead the living!! Two hundred souls I know owe to the keeper of death in exchange for my one! So it shall be with the army that follows me to battle! They shall know no fear of death, no want of mortal pleasures, or need of rest or sustainance! This is not insanity, I tell you, for they shall be the best at giving the one thing they have, death!"

 

Silence alone followed his words, as they were less a rally to victory, and more a call to damnation. Many thought he was crazy, and to be honest, he doubted it was false. But if crazy is what it takes, then crazy is what it shall be.. With his last words spoken, he walked away from the arena and towards the quarters where the commanders of his "armies" had been taken the night before.

 

OOC: Yes, I know.. It is kind of an interuption.. But its big and purposeful! :D

[Peregrine]

News of the new arrival did not take long to reach Aseir's ears. His men on the walls had spotted the rider, and had quietly sent word to Aseir before the man had even entered the gate. But even so, it took him time to reach the main hall from his quarters on the other side of the castle. He arrived just in time to catch the last of the man's words, words that couldn't possibly be right.

 

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded of the new arrival. "I am Aseir, and as you can see, I am not defending your home. My forces will not reach GreyMoor for at least another week." Suddenly something about the man's words sent an icy dagger of fear through his heart, and his hand unconsciously dropped to the katana on his belt. The man had addressed him by name... a name he couldn't possibly know. A name nobody that far south could know, not unless they were looking far too closely into Habassan affairs.....

 

Aseir turned to face the messenger, and took a step back to give himself a better position if things went as badly as he feared. When he finally spoke, the threat in his tone was clear. "I find it quite odd that you can recognize on sight a man you have never seen, and with a name you have never heard. How did you know who I am?" The two guards flanking Aseir stepped into position behind and beside him, hands tight on their pikes. "Speak carefully, spy."

[MDRud216]

You now look upon a cowering child, so different from the semi- confident 18 year old who had sat their before. "I.. I don't know what you are talking about... Even a day after the battle of Galor the swiftest riders who had escaped down the valley were reaching greymoor, they told of you, a great general who intervined in the last momonets of the battle and put an iron fist between the invaders and the capital city!" he shreiks. "most left before the battle was one, and those that arrived first assumed and told us that the capital had fallen. their were small occupations in the cities to the east and they were freed by an army rallied from the cities, I could only assume that they were led by the great general i had heard of! please, it was a mistake!"

 

Quarian spoke after a moment of silence, "Aseir, did you not have a small force in the east? maybe the rumors were started by something smaller such as that, although I would certainly beleive that they could hyave been sparked with the absence of Habbassa in the east."

[Peregrine]

"I am quite sure there were no forces in the east. Our intervention here strained our foriegn resources nearly to the breaking point. Our strength is, as it always has been, far to the north, defending our homelands." Aseir shook his head, his regret obvious. "No, those reports can not be of my men. Not even I can be everywhere at once." The last words betrayed far more sadness than a mere report, but an instant later, it was hidden once more.

 

Quarian's question answered, Aseir turned his attention to the messenger. "I still don't trust you. No simple messenger could identify a man he's never seen before at first sight. A lucky guess maybe, but I still don't like it." He paused for a moment, then removed his hand from his sword. "Whatever you are, you don't have the courage of an assassin. Your life is safe, so long as I see no sign of betrayal." Hearing his words, his guards stepped back and returned to their postions behind him.

 

Paying no more attention to the messenger, Aseir looked back over to Quarian. "Tell the others we will meet and plan tonight once I consult with my scouts." With that, he walked off in the direction of his quarters.

[MDRud216]

The sun had once again sunk behind the western mountains, casting long and foreboding shadows across the valley of galor; only slivers of the golden orange light remained high up in the foothills of the east.

 

The capital itself was in a hurried state of organized chaos. Although some secluded corners of town still smouldered and bodies could be found in the streets to the south, near the largest breech the many new arrivals, including the soldiers of habbasa and the masses who hailed from thrin's country were beginning to settle in so to speak. Many did not know what would happen next, and even more would not be in control of it when it did happen. The people of the city felt helpless, they watched their city be invaded from early glimpses of recon riders to the great legion that legion that stormed through their streets. History seemed to be repeating itself for those who had also watched helplessly when their Emperor was overthrown by invaders years ago.

 

"Good Evening gentlemen," Quarian said before clearing his throat.

[Peregrine]

"I'll make this short and simple."

 

Aseir tossed a map onto the center of the table. Its contents were obvious, the Empire and bordering nations. Less obvious was the writing: notes and diagrams in a language nobody at the table could recognize.

 

"As you all know, the Empire we knew is dead. With the capital in our hands, its complete destruction is just a matter of time. The only question is who will get its remains."

 

He tapped the capital city with the point of a dagger.

 

"We control the capital, and will do so for the immediate future. With the concentration of forces we have here, any counter-attack on us would be suicide. Unfortunately, we can not say the same elsewhere. While the capital assault has tied up all my men, other factions have been moving to take their own territory."

 

The dagger point shifted to Greymoor.

 

"We know Greymoor has fallen, to an unknown force. Most likely, a rival faction used our attack for cover, to take the city while our attention was elsewhere. And according to our scouts, Greymoor was not alone."

 

Aseir tapped several other cities with the dagger.

 

"We have either lost contact with, or confirmed the fall of these cities. Based on the fragments of reports we have, we're most likely looking at four other factions. At minimum."

 

Aseir paused, looking around the table at the other commanders.

 

"The problem is, Habassa does not have the numbers to challenge all of them at once. I am confident in my ability to take any target you want taken, but holding it is a greater problem. Habassa can not win this war for you. You must decide our next move, as your forces will bear its burden."

 

Finished for now, Aseir leaned back in his chair, waiting for the next commander to speak.