"The North-Western Garrison has fallen," said the man seated at the head of the table, at which were seated, many men themselves along with a few women. Everyone was dressed rather lavishly.
The Man, with blonde hair, had a red cape & wore an embellished black tunic with goldwork thread. He was accompanied by a warlock, who wore a hooded red robe, covering the eyes. His hands folded as the robe was covering the hands & a shawl pinned by a golden emblem was draping the shoulder.
The audience was silent as the speaker had spoken. Many looks on their face were seen. Concern, Sadness, Anger as well as Fear. Some just held their heads down. Neither one of them could speak as their minds itself were in chaos.
How can the 'Wall' of Aesnia, the North-Western Garrison established during the reign of Aegimlainn himself, one of the most active trading town, with the most fortified defense which can even stand tall if dragons attack. Supplied by weapons by the dwarves as well as the Mercenary Country of Xarantheisx, fall!!?!?
The Man, who was seated at the head of the table, turned to the group of people who had their heads down, eyeing them, as if judging them. The Rings on his finger clacked as he tapped the fingers on the table. In a low voice, he growled,
"What were all of you doing! WHEN THE GARRISON WAS ATTACKED!?!?"
He slammed his hand on the table making a loud noise as the audience, all of them turned their attention towards the ones who held their heads down.
"Useless cowards, the whole lot of you!" he pointed a finger at the group.
"You better have some excuses before I think of revoking your nobility or executing you on spot." The audience of nobles gasped & the group now trembled while looking at the man.
"Your Majesty, we... did not anticipate an attack as it happened at night, as soon as it happened, we sent reinforcements... but..." said a man in the glasses, wearing a blue coat over a neat shirt.
He was shaking but with courage, he spoke out.
"None of them returned. Your Majesty, we couldn't afford to send more soldiers, we already sacrificed our troops, if we had sent more, who would have defended our lands? Please forgive us, Your Majesty but we had no choice!" he begged.
He still quivered with anger, with his two fingers on his forehead & rubbing it, sat down in his seat. Still, with his eyes closed, he asked, "Why is it that none of the reinforcements came back? Is it like a lot of Dragons attacked together or?"
A blonde woman who wore a frilly green dress & with a paper fan in her hand, closing it, handed a piece of letter to the man, which was brought by a servant in the room.
She spoke, "Your Highness, as you can see a letter was brought to our household's, The Edelfar family watchmen saw a Centaur, ridden by a man, in tribal clothing of the western desert tribes. We couldn't just judge them to the fact that he is an enemy party at such a sensitive time. We also received a box which will be delivered shortly."
Taking the letter, "Thank you, Countess. What do you spectate of this situation?"
the man then looked at his audience.
The countess, bringing the fan near her face said with a grim look,
"I think it's a declaration of war by The Four Khans."
The Nobles seated gasped & started murmuring amongst themselves. The Four Khans. The ones who rule the desert, occupying the Thaondia Desert lying between the western kingdom of Xarantheisx & the Mountains near Heimurgrundr & just near it lies Kartheliek, the Homeland of Orcs. It's an important area, thus the kingdom wanted to occupy it for trading purposes, they were met with resistance from the four Khans, the leaders of the nomadic tribes, Urag of the Orcs, Aikosyne of the Centaurs, Tavros of the Minotaurs & Djanou of the Men.
The Aesnia Empire came to a standstill peace option when trying to settle & create trading routes to the neighboring kingdoms. The Nomadic tribes provide them with a workforce, camels & guides to traverse the desert & in return get supplies.
It isn't a surprise that the tribes would attack as there used to occasionally be rebels who would attack & loot nearby villages or caravans, but they were dealt with quickly.
The King opened the letter & something of an astral spirit appeared, He muttered
"Oh, Astral Magic, quite rare if you ask me. Recording messages for this requires quite an amount of mana, how expensive." & The attendant silently stood still while glaring at the spirit formed.
Astral Magic, is a form of magic deriving mail from the astral plane itself, it usually deals with spirit magic & is one of its branches. It's commonly used for scouting or sending recorded messages. It is not offensive magic & quite rare in the realm.
Slowly an old man, bald, he still looked like a warrior & wearing an armor made of hide, wielding an ax, was formed by the spirit, in a voice suiting the old man, it spoke,
"Greetings to the Emperor of Aesnia. I am one of the Khans, Djanou & as you can see, I have used a recorded message via astral magic" It bowed. It then glared & in a low tone said,
"This is a declaration of war by the Four Khans to the Nobles of the western regions who usurped our ancestral lands. The Nobles who in the name of the greater good, exploited our people & made us homeless."
Raising his ax & pointing towards the seated king, he thundered,
"Thus we strike back in anger against the corrupt. May no man hide in this hour of wrath!!! No longer shall we be beaten or broken! Let this fire burn!! Let Justice be done."
He took a deep breath & coughed. Clearing his throat he said,
"The Blood Moon's Chosen one has risen again & sends you, his greetings."
The spirit disappeared & the letter itself vanished.
Hearing the words, 'Blood Moon's Chosen one', The Nobles fell into chaos & started murmuring amongst themselves. Even the King was shaken & slammed his hand on the table. He touched his forehead with two fingers & said,
"This is starting to be a headache. Seriously, why now?"
There was one warrior, who was highly regarded by the Khans, the one rivaling Aegimlainn himself, they call the warrior 'The Blood Moon's Chosen one or the Blessed Scourge' Even Aegimlainn had quite a tough time battling him. They described him, the Scourge as a powerful crazed warrior, wielding a hammer, smashing his foes like bugs with no mercy & as more the blood was on his hammer, the delighted was his crazed smile & powerful the warrior got.
The warrior always came in the battle at night & the battlefield would then turn into a massacre, no matter how many times the warrior was slashed at, he would recover the next day, still unharmed, as though what he did last time was but a dream. The survivors who escaped with their lives said that the moon always seemed red when they saw him arrive on the battlefield thus his name, 'The Blood Moon's Chosen one'.
When the battles were being lost, Aegimlainn himself stepped up in the battle & declared a duel to the death, which lasted for two days, fighting with mighty blows, Aegimlainn's spear had finally pierced the warrior in the end but the warrior had landed quite a heavy blow on the hero such that he was in quite an unstable & dangerous state. That is the power of the one, they call the Blood Moon's Chosen one.
A box was brought by an attendant & was given to the countess. Countess Edelfar closing her fan passed the box to his Majesty. Carefully the King opened the box, which revealed to have a head of a man with grey hair, cleanly shaven off, eyes still bulging, as though it saw something horrifying
The Nobles gasped, many ladies fainted while somehow Countess Edelfar steeled herself at the horrific sight. The King calmly without an expression sat in his seat as if pondering.
The Warlock carefully checked the head & whispered, "It seems it's preserved by ice magic, the blood is frozen, it seems it was cleaved off while the person was still alive."
"It seems the Scourge sure has weird tastes..." eyeing the head,
"It's the Garrison Lord, Darios. DariosEvenden..."
The Council went silent, neither of them spoke & just sat there.
Clutching his fist, the spectacled man, straightening his coat said,
"How... HOW DARE THEY MOCK US & OUR EMPIRE!!! I, beseech my emperor, LET ME TAKE REVENGE FOR MY EMPIRE & MY FALLEN BROTHER!!" his eyes full for the thirst of revenge.
The other North-Western Nobles, the group who held their heads in shame before, rose up from their seats & knelt along with,
"YOUR HIGHNESS, ALLOW US TO DEAL WITH THIS 'SCOURGE' WHO HAS MOCKED OUR EMPIRE!!"
The King smiled & waved his hands, "I allow you to deal with this invader who has mocked our glorious empire! On my name, Fitzgerald, Son of Aegimlainn, order you to destroy the ones who have sullied the peace of our kingdom!"
Seeing this, Nobles' morale raised up. They rallied & hailed the empire & the Council emergency meeting ended.
Fitzgerald was followed by his attendant as they walked down the hallway & towards a room. The Warlock whispered again, "Now, whatever shall you do? Your Majesty."
He scratched his head,
"No choice, you see. It seems I better get to work. Letters to write to my dear 'neighbors' & allotting budgets & paying & signing all the important documents & assigning some reinforcements to the nobles... Haaa... lots of work, better get to it."
As he took up his quill & the mage helped with the papers as the humungous task began.
A Few Days ago before the Council Meeting
Near the Thaondia desert, between the Mountains of Xarantheisx & the Dwarven Kingdom falls the Garrison Town, Taewae, meaning 'the Way or The Route' in the common tongue. A strongly fortified town, which is supposedly in blazes.
The Noble family of Edelfar had sent a battalion of 200 soldiers as reinforcements to help the town.
The Banner of Edelfar, A mighty golden bird surrounded by a ring of light, flew high as they passed through the sandy area. Camels trudged along with supplies, armored knights on horses, along with knights with shields walked the hot day. Wiping their sweats in between & drinking water, many knights were arguing they should have removed their armors while some were concerned in case of ambushes & being light would certainly be fatal.
The Battalion leader, Cromwell, looked at his map, which showed a village before reaching the town. They soon reached a hill from where they could see the village. He shouted,
"Alright, men! We rest over here!" The Camels grunted & the Horses neighed as they soon were tied outside, as the men made camp nearby.
Cromwell & the Adjutant of the first group, Arestard, A Wood Elf walked towards the village along with a few knights.
No one was seen, Ravens were seen above & the smell of death & burning flesh was still lingering.
They pushed the gates, seeing the watchtowers destroyed, they trudged forward to the village's windmill which was seen from afar which was still moving due to the wind.
As they walked, they saw many knights pierced through by javelins, burned as though fire magic was used, however they still couldn't sense any maia. Houses were burned & many charred bodies lay. It was a horrific sight. 'Hell' would be an understatement for this place as though the village was fully defiled of the greenery & tranquility of a normal village.
They finally reached the windmill & atop the windmill were the hanged bodies of the village chief & the important figures as one could see from the clothes. Rotting as flies swarmed above & Ravens making a ruckus, Cromwell was horrified & thought to himself, what monster had ravaged this land. Arestard brought the bodies down with the help of other knights & gave them a proper burial.
Leaving in a hurry, the group reached the camp & informed about the sights, the morale of the battalion was dampened & everyone quietly & remorsefully ate their lunch. Cromwell after sometime decided that they couldn't waste any more time & decided to move on.
The night had reached & cold spread through the areas as they nudged forwards to the town. Soon the town, still burning in flames was seen from afar, many of them thought a dragon had descended.
The Watchtowers were in ruins & the gates broken, the Knights were scared & Cromwell signaled his men to prepare themselves.
Cromwell riding his horse was at the front while most of the soldiers were at the back. The walls were broken & fire was still burning as they continued marching. An arrow whizzed past Cromwell. An Ambush!
Soon more arrows loosened upon the men, chaos spread & Cromwell shouted,
"Hold your positions! Brace up your shields!"
A few of them were shot but still not many were injured. Suddenly everything became quiet. Only the noise of erratic breathing of the knights were heard. Cromwell gulped as he looked everywhere while still sitting on his horse.
Out of nowhere, an Axe was thrown, slicing through the shield & struck a knight, Orc Axe throwers! Cromwell shouted,
"KNIGHTS! HOLD YOUR SHIELDS & CHARGE TOWARDS THEM!!!" As the Knights charged towards their assailants & a battle broke out, Cromwell still fighting while riding upon his horse skewed an Orc advancing towards him, by throwing his spear & then taking his sword & slashing at the incoming enemies. Soon the Orcs retreated & the Knights cheered thinking they won the battle.
Soon, the grounds shook, the clipping of hooves as though a lot of horses were charging towards them was heard.
Arestard, while bracing his shield, yelled towards Cromwell,
"Commander Look out!!!"
Javelins rained out as Centaurs wielding Javelins arrived, creating chaos with their throwing speed & the sudden attack, crushing the unprepared under their hooves, the Javelins pierced through the armors of many knights before they burst into flames.
Cromwell still on his horse, thought how peculiar it was that even though fire was seen, no maia was sensed. Among the chaos of fire & flying shields, a Javelin hit him off guard & he fell off his horse. Flaming Javelins bursting upon impact, rained upon the knights & soon it was a massacre. Pierced by one of the Javelins in his legs, he tried to escape but it was fruitless. He soon fell unconscious as an Orc Raider bashed an axe on his face.
Cromwell soon found himself being dragged by a Minotaur, towards the statue of Aegimlainn on a horse, which was missing the head. He soon saw a man, wielding a huge hammer, with a mask, malice & dread was what he sensed from that man, broken chains were seen upon the foot of the legs of the dark warrior. He was thrown at the feet of that man & before he closed his eyes again as the Hammer fell upon him & Cheers rang, in the far night, he saw the moon, full red as though dyed in blood.
'Oh grave lamenting land...'
'Fear not the Scourge's might'
'Consuming hope yet flickers...'
BẠN ĐANG ĐỌC
The UmU Chronicles
Viễn tưởng'After the plot schemed by ▃▃▅▅, the Races united & foiled the plans of ▂▂▅▅▃▃. 69 Years have passed, the times have indeed been of peace & harmony. But a single question remains in the minds of the few people who know the truth, "Has ▂▂▅▅▃▃ truly b...
