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EBRP Adventure Thread

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Orc Captial City, Named Pregin

Fanger rushes through the halls towards the throne room. and runs through the doors to where Gregraz'ar is sitting

Sir! Sir! Come, quickly!

Not now Fanger! I'm in the middle of something!

But sir! Sir, there's a report! Our southern men have bad news!

What is it Fanger!

Sea'mas has been captured. He was travelling up towards us from the Dwarves land, right on the bourder between those damned crownies and them undead! And a crownie patrol captured him! Top of that, dwarves are marching north!

North? Towards...

Us! The war is here! HEHEHEHEHE! I will meet the little drawvies, and snap thier necks, and eat thier little brains right out of thier little skulls.

Look here Fanger! I told you the war would reach us, and I told you we would be prepared. The southern lands our Gregul clan lands! My clan will be able to fight them, and your clan will help. Sea'mas presents a problem though. His clan, the Likki, will want to go save him. Whatever his reason for being down there was, I need to make sure that we get him back before the Likki's march into the crowns land. Prepare a guard and a horse for me. I'm travelling to the crown land.

To rip them apart and win back Sea'mas?

To talk to them, and try to retake Sea'mas.

Where's the bloodshed in that?

Do not worry my friend. I'm sure you'll get your fair amount of bloodshed here, if I can't figure out a way to stop the dwarves while talking to the crown's king.

Gregraz'ar rushed out of the room.

(For those who are's what's going on with each character

Sea'mas: Travelled to Drawven land to kill drawves and get a war started to trouble Gregraz'ar. He was captured on the way back up by the Crown Kingdom, where he is being held.

Fanger: Will try to hold off the dwarves when they reach the southern bourder if Gregraz'ar can't talk the Crown Kingdom's king into stopping his dwarven friends from attacking. He is the acting general of the Maspack (his clan) and the Gregul clan (Gregraz'ar's clan).

Gregraz'ar: Is going to go to the crown kingdom and ask the king for Sea'mas back, so that the Likki clan (Sea'mas's clan) does not go attack the Crown Kingdom to get back their king. He will also ask the crown kingdom's king to stop the drawves from attacking, becuse he has yet to know why the drawves ARE attacking (they were angered by Sea'mas's actions.)

That's it.)

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21 P

Theldor Baggins was drowning. Some horrible creature was pulling him deeper and deeper into the dark water near the island of the Undead. He could clearly remember how he had gotten himself into this predicament, the vampires had just retreated and they were dumping the dead into the water. Then something had grabbed the bodies and pulled them to the bottom of the ocean, along with Theldor, who was helping dump the dead. And now he was going down to the bottom of the ocean to be devoured by some sort of hungry sea monster. :skull:

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L7 Dragon's Keep; The Throne Room

Lord Dragonator, or rather, King Dragonator as they called him now, stood peering off into the distance. It had been a tiresome few days, and with little reward.

My Lord, I have just been informed that Lord Rotrigous is in the city, and staying with non other than Lady Areaith, High Seat of House Dinquith. It looks like he is likely to gain her backing sometime soon. Support for yourself does not look good amongst the nobles. Many still question your right to rule here.

And so they should. After all, what do they know of me? I do not have any family for them to link me to, nor do they even know of my origins. Why should tey not question me?

My Lord, what are you saying?

The point is, my friend, that humans are humans, and always will be. When faced with a crisis, they want to know who's fault it was in the first place, rather than actually solving it. When times are good, greed and corruption sets in. It has happened before, it is happening now, and it will happen again. I had high hopes for the people of this kingdom, but in many ways they are the same as those in any other, possessed by their own needs and their desires for more power. Is it really worth me taking the throne?

Marcus tried to say something, but Dragonator continued.

A darkness is rising in the land Marcus, and I fear it does not bode well for any of us; human, dragon, or anyone else for that matter. Fighting is already breaking out in the west, where the races are most strongly mixed, and yet a darkness is rising even here, in this very kingdom. The question is, what form will this darkness take, and how does Rotrigous fit into all this. Is he just another petty human squabbling for power, or is there something more here?

Running footsteps interrupted Dragonator's musing, and a rather wearing Captain of the Guard ran into the chamber.

King Dragonator, I came as fast as I could. The army splitting, many fighting amongst themselves. I understand that the soldiers were become discontent with the situation and wanted to do something about it. The Air Marshal Fortress has been guttered, and your few loyal men are fleeing. What are your orders?

Dragonator slammed his fist against the windowsill. The Captain decided it might be best he left.

So much for your loyal army, Marcus. Looks like this kingdom is being eaten from the inside out. I mean to find out what is causing this havoc.

Excellent, I can organise a counter strike soon and-

No Marcus. I fear it is to late for that. I must go somewhere, and no, I cannot tell you where.

You mean to abandon the kingdom? You mean to abandon your loyal subjects to the rule of Rotrigous!? After we have worked so hard to get this far!!?

Marcus, if there were any other way then I would take it. You are one of the few people I have come to like, and so I shall try my best to save you from this disaster. I want you and any others you can trust to go to Dormin. There you are to await further instructions. I must go else where, but I do not intend to be long.

So this is it then. After all your efforts here, after so many years of toil and sacrifice, you mean to just abandon the keep to Rotrigous?

For the moment, yes. But not forever. I have a goal, and I intend to see it happen, no matter how long it may take. This may seem like a terrible mistake, but you must trust me, it is the right thing.

I trust you my Lord, I do. I just hope that the kingdom does not suffer to much for this.

All will be well eventually. Now go. From what I understand, Lord Rotrigous will probably build up enough courage to try to take the keep by force in the next few days, and you no longer have an army to stop him.

We still have the Royal Guards. Their loyalty is to the king and in their eyes, you are the true ruler here, not just because King Dracus named you so, but because of your victories against the Ankorians in not one but two wars. They may only number less than 200 men, but they are all loyal to you.

Good. Mobilize them, and take them with you to Dormin. As for anyone else, I fear Rotrigous is going to make some changes around here, and they shall just have to adapt.

As you say my Lord. May you live through this battle.

And you also, my friend.

Marcus departed, leaving Dragonator staring after him, wondering if he had done the right thing.

You did the right thing, Draggy.

Dragonator turned to the window, where Ragnir was peering through into the room.

I know, but was it right for them? Many of these humans are going to suffer for this. Somehow, after all my time here I... I feel responsible for them.

You have been summoned Dragonator, and nobody refuses the summons of the Council. Besides, won't it be nice to go home for a while?

Yes it will. But I am not done with this kingdom, not yet. The people here may have forgotten the old ways, but I am sure if I could only eradicate the evil here, then they would once again be worthy of serving dragons. I am sure that the evil I sense is in some way connected to our little problem. I have my suspicions, but we shall have to wait until we are before the Council before I can voice them.

Ah, so you are on to something. I knew that this whole time we have spent here would not be in vain.

Yes, but we must still tread lightly. It is likely that there is an evil influence even in our own Council. We are juggling more than just the fate of dragon-kind here, we are juggling the fate of the world, and blindfolded.

Well you've always been one to accept any challenge, no matter how impossible.

Oh yes. I intend to best this evil, and I will succeed. Come let us be going.

Dragonator quickly left the throne room, for there was much to be seen to before the approach of night...

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Khan Makhmos, (N, 16)


The tall khaki grass danced against the gentle breeze. All across the plain the ground swayed and shimmered with the light from the setting sun. The sky was red. Inside his tent Khan Makhmos sat, deep in thought. He reflected on his days of glory, his resiliant defence of the Abukh camp, his audacious victories against the Shanagh tribe, the wars that made him the most feared Khan in all of the Orcish Steppes. Decades of battle had made Makhmos a weary man, each of his scars telling a tale of his bravery. The glory days of Makhmos were over and now he was old and withered, but he would continue to lead his tribe into battle right until his death. Indeed, though his body was frail, Makhmos was still a mastermind of the battlefield.

Makhmos sat...

... and sat...

...and sat.

The tent door flapped open. His hawk-eyes flickered up in an instant to see the silhoutte of a warrior.

"What is it, my son?"

"Father," Ogkhlala began, his long hair wrestling with the breeze, "the Shanagh tribe have entered the battlefield. The men await your orders."

"Excellent. Good work my son." Makhmos lifted himself up from the floor, and followed Ogkhlala out of his tent and into the glaring red sun.

Makhmos examined the infantry before making his way to his cavalry. Ogkhlala helped Makhmos up onto his steed. This particular horse was Makhmos' favourite. It had served him well over the years, never faultering. It had been with him through many of his most glorious victories. It was a truly seasoned battle-horse. From atop this horse Makhmos surveyed the battlefield. Nothing but tall, flat grass for miles, the sky red with blood-lust. The perfect scene for one of Makhmos' battles. Across the plains stood the Shanagh, nowhere to hide, chanting and taunting. The foul horns from both sides began to sound, and Makhmos, without uttering a word, drew his scimitar and raised it above his head. As one his army began to march towards the already doomed Shanagh force.

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L7 Dragon's Keep; The Barracks of The Royal Guards

... and so men, that is why we shall be marching for Dormin this very night. Ready yourselves, for we may not be returning for some time.

Stepping down to a low murmur, Marcus surveyed the close on 200 men assembled in the large mess hall. They looked tired, as was to be expected guarding the King in these hard times, but they also looked determined to do as their King ordered them to. Already some were slipping out to start readying their gear. At that moment, Marcus spotted two men coming towards him from the back of the room, and his breath caught.

You didn't think you'd be going anywhere without us, did you Marcus?

Well maybe without you, but certainly he was expecting me.

Gillious, Spencer! I didn't know whether you were with us or with Rotrigous!

Don't be silly, we know who saved our buts in the last two wars, and we're happy to stick by him.

Indeed, I only regret that the rest of the troops cannot hold together long enough to have the same thought.

The pair looked at each other, suddenly realising they had just agreed. Gillious smiled toothily, while Spencer stuck his nose in the air and did a very good job ignoring everything around him. Marcus burst out laughing.


Oh nothing. It will be good to have you both along.

Meanwhile, in the back courtyard, Dragonator and Ragnir were talking.

I take it you are almost ready to go?

Yes, I don't need to bring much. I have my staff, my sword, and a couple of small bags.

Ah good.

Why have you got that guilty look on your face.

Oh nothing, I just thought you might be bringing some treasure or something...

Well I did of course bring all my valuable pieces, I wouldn't leave them behind for anything! Why do you ask?

Oh, no reason, I just thought you might, you know, bring some of the nice things from around the castle...

Dragonator noticed that Ragnir was trying to hide a giant sack almost as large as his torso behind him, to no effect. It made a very suspicious clinking noise.

Ragnir, you can't carry that all the way home!

Well I don't want to leave it here.

I guess we can leave it at my country house then, nobody knows I've built it yet. Is it just me, or do you seem to have a lot more in there than you had earlier today?

I saw some nice things in the hallways. :blush:

Ragnir! :laugh: Well I guess it's better than Rotrigous having it all. Still, it is wrong to steal.

You've been around these humans to long. Most of this stuff probably belonged to dragons some time in the past anyway.

Good point. Talking of dragons, what of those few that are left in this kingdom?

Well, the couple that were guarding the boarders left months ago from what I have heard. That only leaves a few that are with the last remaining Air Marshals of yours. Of those, I understand that the older ones have all answered the call, leaving their human "companions" behind, however a couple of the younger dragons that were raised in secret here have not left, probably because they did not understand what they were hearing. I think the council will want to have words with you about that little arrangement.

The old ties between humans and dragons needed to be re-established. I am sure those couple of younger dragons that are staying behind will be safe with the Air Marshals, I do trust them.

Still, it is regrettable that they must be left behind.

It is, but it will not be forever. Perhaps one day when these struggles are over we can show them the homes of their ancestors?

Yes, we cannot let them forget. For the time being though they shall have to survive, as once we leave they will not be able to follow even if they knew the way.

Dragonator looked up at the keep, and then turned back to Ragnir.

Right, let us be going, we must make all speed.

Oh I've been waiting for this day for so long! Finally, we can get out of this human hell-hole. Goodbye Dratos!

Yes, goodbye. For now...

Lord Dragonator climbed up on to Ragnir's back, after stuffing his things into the top of the very full sack. Ragnir spread his mighty wings, and with a great heave lifted off into the air, carrying his heavy burden. High up, a shadowy figure watched them go from a small balcony...

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Location: L7 Dragon's Keep.

Drayn and Thaddius stood overseeing the Remaining Air Marshals next to Lieutenant Byron.

"Well. The Dragons that we have Left are Welden, Onyxa, Saffire, Thorn, Caeln, Draysl, Myyrdin and Lithain"

"Are they enough to pull us through?"

"Most Probably. Dragonator trusts them, and Me, so should you"

"At the present, our own men are deserting to Rotrigious, the Dragons are the Most trustworthy, I would never think of them betraying us!"

"I never thought different, Byron, it's just that these are the only people we can trust at the moment"

"I agree whole-heartedly Thaddius, it's just that Ragnir and King Dragonator are nowhere to be seen or found, it's up to us to hold Rotrigious off!"

"Yes, it seems many of our Companions have left, Drayn felt an urge to leave the other day, he is after all, a very old Dragon, he said it was to do with something in which he couldn't tell me!"

"It seems there is devilry at foot here, we must be vigilant!"

"I'm going to kill Rotrigious myself if I get the chance, I sense something bad is about to happen, we must get ready"

"I will see to it, Lord, let's hope we can guide ourselves through this." *Byron pulls out a crumpled letter* "This arrived this morning bearing the Tunderhammer sigil, The dwarves have promised us help in the way of... Magma Dragons?!?!?!"

Byron peered at the letter in disbelief

"By the gods! It seems Tyrius has kept this from us until now, two legions of Dwarves are arriving, by Ragnir's breath! That's a thousand Troops and a 100 of their Dragons!"

"It seems we may just pull through this after all".

Edited by Inertia

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Location: J14 (Black Shards Fortress, Black Knights Kingdom)

Marching soldiers holding their spears and shields by the side moving in an organised manner, lining up in columns awaits someone. Formerly known as the Black Shards armies, sworn by oath to protect the citizens and western regions of Black Knights Kingdom no longer exist. These soldiers no longer bear the faith and allegiance of this kingdom. In their eyes, hatred and despair could be seen. They are indeed been utterly converted to the sinister Bat Legionaries.

Lord Jason walked out with Sir Lance and said “My soldiers. I have received information from our comrades that the renegades which we are looking for is heading for Green Valley. All of you are to after and capture Lord Kenneth, leader of the WhiteFang and execute all of his remaining companions. Your orders are absolute. Sir Lance, will be the commanding officer for this mission and shall lead the western platoon to glory.” Sir Lance stood to the front and kneels upon his leader, and announced “I shall bring you victory with the platoon I lead.”

With anxiety and urgency, Sir Lance set off immediately with the western platoon to Green Valley to capture the other lord, whom is on another mission himself. Lord Jason thought for a few moments, recite in his mind “Lord Kenneth must be stopped at all costs to prevent the reunion, otherwise my brethrens have sacrificed for nothing.”

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Khan Makhmos, (N, 16)


... In reply, the Shanagh force marched forward, eager for blood. Quickly the marches became a run, both sides wanting to get into battle as soon as possible. Makhmos' was grim, as it was in all battles. He made a gesture forwards, and his cavalry gallopped towards the enemy ranks, before suddenly coming to a stop just yards before their foes. Every orc grabbed their bows and began to loose hundreds of arrows upon the bewildered Shanagh. Makhmos too fired his bow, caving in the heads of many an orc. A dishonourable way to fight indeed, but it did the trick. A hail of arrows came back in reply, knocking many of Makhmos' warriors off their saddles. The Shanagh's own horse archers fired back through the gathering dust from battle.

Makhmos made another gesture, and his cavalry quickly reformed, before drawing their swords and spears. The Shanagh horsemen made some gestures too, though they're too rude to mention here. Both contingents of cavalry began to charge each other, weapons raised, bronze swords gleaming against the harsh scarlet sky. This was the part of the battle Makhmos liked the most. Now was the time for him to prove his bravery once more.

Screaming as loud as they could, the two sides crashed into each other with great speed. It wasn't long before Makhmos' boys had carved through the Shanagh's ranks, splitting their unit in two. Makhmos was now deep into the Shanagh force, cutting down any riders who dared oppose him. With a mighty bellow he thrust his spear into the chest of an Orc, before drawing his sword again to slay another foe. Ogkhlala fought side-by-side, fighting just as heroicly as his father.

It wasn't long before the Shanagh horsemen were routed. In a panic they galloped away to their camp, hoping to be safe there. But Makhmos' boys were skilled horsemen and quickly caught up with their cowardly foes. With their spears they hewed down the fleeing orcs until none remained. The orcs under Makhmos let out a great cheer, before turning their attention to the Shanagh infantry that had engaged Makhmos' own a few yards away.

Still in his battle rage, Makhmos said with a mighty roar: "CHAARGE!" The horsemen galloped forth.

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L7 Dragon's Keep; Front Parade Ground

General Marcus stood on a small platform near the gates and surveyed his troops, the only truly loyal group of soldiers left in the kingdom. The Royal Guards, all 200 of them, were lined up in 6 columns, with officers and Bannermen getting everyone in order. To the rear, Marcus could see the strings of remounts he had ordered readied, as well as the many pack-horses. All told it was a very small expedition force, but unfortunately all that could be mustered in these troubled times.

Hearing someone approach, Marcus looked down to see Lieutenant Byron and his second, Captain Walker, approaching the platform. Saluting, they stepped forward.

General, I have rallied as many men under my command as I can, however I have only managed to gather just over 500 men to defend the Keep. It shall have to do, unfortunately.

You have done well Byron, I wish you luck in this endeavour. It will be a tough fight, but I have faith that you will hold the Keep for our King.

As you say, sir.

Lieutenant Byron left to go prep the remaining soldiers for the imminent siege that would very likely come in the next few days. Marcus took a depth breath, and shouted the command for a forward march. Slowly, the Royal Guards of the Dragon Masters Kingdom filed out of the Keep, on an as-yet unknown mission. Marcus sighed.

It is begun.

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Nations Three Corners

Now men! We are preparing to enter into possibly hostile land! We must be quick, for the land is dangerous, and if we do not hurry our people will go to war, a war we may not be able to win.

Jeering and booing greeted Gregraz'ar's statement. The ten hand picked Orcs were warriors, there was no doubt of that. And they were from his tribe, so he could count on them. This, however, did not mean they agreed with his ideas, and thier Orc pride over-powered logic.

Gregraz'ar looked at them angrily before continuing.

I'm beig resoenable! You do not want your comrades and family to die! We need to go talk the Crown King into giving us back Sea'mas, so the war can be avoided! The Likki's will go attack the dwarves if we don't!

The dwarves are already attacking us! Shouted one of the members. Let us just go and rip them apart! Then the war would be avoided!

I hope to explain this to the Crwoned King. He can call off the dwarves!

Ha! Why! Are you weak? Are you, our king, afraid of war?

No! But we Orcs don't stand a chance in war anymore! We need to build new things. Think new plans. We can't die off just as brutes! Shouted Gregraz'ar in desperation.

Ha! You're no king! I'll show you what brute strength can-

The Orc who had challanged Gregraz'ar looked down at his chest, which had an arrow buried in it. His blood quickly spilled into the snow while e other dwarves started to shout.

It's an ambush! Get under cover! Shouted Gregraz'ar.

Arrows started to rain out of the sky towards the group. Seven more warriors were quick to fall. Gregraz'ar and the remaining orcs attempted to make a dash back to the tree line of Orc land, but were cut off by men on horses. One more warrior feel to a sword, leaig only one guard and Gregraz'ar.

Who are they? Shouted the guard. Gregraz'ar felt a dart enter his body, and is body start to relax. The guard toppled over.

We're the wolf pack. Said the lead man on the horse before the world faded.

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G11, Falcon part of Warblewood Forest

BARDOCK was happy. After several days of eating almost nothing, he had now killed a bird and speared a wild boar. He was heading back to the cave, where Kian was still fast asleep, boar slung on his shoulders. As he walked, rain started falling out of the sky and trickled on the leaves of the trees.

Not again, thought Bardock as he looked up.

He steadied his pace and made his way to the cave through the mud and the bushes. As soon as he had made it to the cave, he dropped the boar on the floor and took the bird out of his knapsack.

"Kian, look, I've found us some f-" Bardock could not finish his sentence, an arrow had already found its way to the boar.

"KIAN, WE'VE GOT GOONS!" he shouted.

Kian jolted up and together they ran outside, confronting their attackers. The attackers numbered at least thirty, but fighting them was the only option they got.

"REMEMBER, TRY TO TAKE THEM ALIVE!" the leader commanded his men through the pouring rain.

Bardock threw his spear at one of the attackers, nailing him to a tree instantly. When he found himself surrounded, he swung his axe around to try and take down as many as he could. Kian was holding out quite fine, too. But they were tired and their attackers were many.

Then, all of the sudden, whistling sounds came from through the fog and felled several soldiers. Others were hit in the legs or feet and crawled away. When more arrows came, the soldiers got frightened and ran off, leaving the two men behind.

There they stood, in the middle of the small clearing in the forest, in front of their cave. They collapsed. Bardock listened attentively, but all he could hear was rain falling on the leaves. He breathed deeply, got up and started challenging the invisible, mysterious ally.



G11, Falcon part of Warblewood Forest

RAIN fell out of the sky and drowned the entire forest. The ground had turned all muddy and fog had been formed between the trees, reducing visibility of anyone wandering through the forest.

I should go home, thought Vincent, I'm not gonna kill anything in this wea'er.

Vincent was walking back home as he suddenly heard the sound of clashing metal coming from the east of him. He ran towards it as quickly as his worn legs could carry him. It was difficult to navigate through the forest, even for an expert woodsman such as Vincent. He had nearly tripped over an uprooted root, but eventually he had made it to the origin of the sounds.

Below him he could make out two men taking on several attackers in the fog. The men were heavily outnumbered and were giving everything they had left in them. Unable to make out who the assailants were, Vincent quickly readied his bow and loosened several arrows towards the enemy. Shades dropped on the forest floor as he sent more arrows flying. The attackers looked around surprised and started falling back.

The two men defending dropped on the ground and breathed deeply.

"WHO'S THERE?!", one of them started bellowing, "WHO'S THERE? COME OUT, SO I CAN KILL YOU, TOO!"

Vincent crept closer and took a look at the two. One was sitting on the ground and held his head in his hands. The other one, the shouting one, had already stood up again and was now waving his fists around angrily. He had the looks of a classic brute. Vincent concluded they formed no real danger, they were too tired and worn to be a threat, and decided to reveal himself.

"Those aren't the most welcoming words I've ever heard, but they'll do" Vincent came out and grinned. He had slung his bow on his back, but was still ready to grab his knife if a situation came up.

"Who are you?" the big, burly brute spat.

"Wot's it to you?"

The brute was clearly very displeased with the rude answer.

"Where are you from?" he continued.

"Be'ind ye" Vincent simply replied.

"My gut doesn't trust you one bit..." ,the big guy began, "but you've got courage and I like that"

He reached out his hand.

"Bardock's my name, and this is Kian" Bardock smiled.

"Pleasure to meet ye" ,said Vincent as he shook Bardock hands, "Now lets have a look at your attackers, shall we?"

Vincent stepped towards one of the corpses. He retrieved his arrow out of its back and turned the corpse around with his foot. His face went pale as he noticed the soldier wore Knights Kingdom arms. He had just killed a fellow citizen.

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1.png & bardock.png


VINCENT tried to get some sleep. After the skirmish, the three of them had buried the bodies and had retreated back into the cave. Night had crept across the land and Kian and Bardock were already asleep. Vincent however, wasn't able to sleep at all.

The cave was cold and moistious and critters were crawling all over the place, but that wasn't his problem. The events of today kept him busy. His mind was uneasy.

He had seen the crests these two strangers bore: Bull Knights. It was a common known fact that Bull Knights and Knights Kingdomers were each other's nemesis ever since the Northern War. He had kept his background a secret from them, fearing their retribution.

This wasn't the only thing keeping him awake, though. There was still the fact that he had killed, murdered, some of his fellow countrymen today. Even though he didn't know they were Knights Kingdom, he was their murderer.

Vincent turned around on the cold, cavern floor and fell asleep.

Memories drifted through his head. Knights wearing blue tunics emblazoned with a golden, rampaging lion rode into a small, rundown village, followed by foot soldiers dressed in purple and priests. As soon as they got into the village, the foot soldiers violently started rounding up all of the inhabitants, forcing them together on a small, central courtyard. They then forced the pagan villagers to have them baptised by the priests they had brought along. Those who refused were locked away in a barn and burned alive. Those who fled were rapidly hunted down by the mounted knights and were either hung, tortured or killed in the most savage of ways. The knight revelled in the carnage. Black figures set against the light of the blazing barn were maniacally laughing.

Vincent jolted up, breathing rapidly. Sweat pearls dripped from his brow. He touched the scar across his cheeck and looked about. The Bulls were still sleeping sound.

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As fortune would have it, some men had captured the bandits and Siloux was freed.

Glad, Siloux returned to his home.

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1.png & bardock.png


AFTER some well needed rest, the trio of outcasts got up early in the morning. Vincent had kept watch during the night since he hadn't been able to catch some sleep. No new attackers had come.

"Probably lost our track during the bad weather" said Bardock and sniffed.

"Yeah, hopefully" added Kian "I'm sick of the unrest"

"In your dreams, gents. These men won't quit, they're bloo'y relentless"

"And how would you know?" barked Bardock.

"I know because I DO! Trust me, I know these guys well enough" Vince replied.

"Sheesh, no need to get all spiced up, here. Look, we're in this boat together, we need to decide on our next step" said the ever calm Kian.

"We? There is no 'we'. There's you and there's me, I just happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Figure it out yerselves, I'm outta 'ere"

"No, you're wrong, sir. We ARE in the same boat. You killed men, we killed men. This not some matter taken lightly. We need to get out of here, together" Kian stated.

"He's right you know. He's a smart kid" Bardock added.

"Fine, we head south. I have a small hovel just outside the woods. We can restock and continue this there"

"South? As in 'South where Knight Kingdom is'?" Bardock asked.

Vincent simply nodded.

"Then you are a bloody Kingdomer!" exclaimed Bardock furiously.

"DEAL WITH IT! I helped yer megablocks out then and I'm helpin' ya now. Trust me, Bull" snapped Vincent.

Vincent nodded gruffly southward took a sip out of his flask and stepped off. Bardock and Kian looked at eachother, doubting, but eventually ran after him, catching up.

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When Siloux returned to his village (several days have passed since his capture), everything was back as it was before. Only, this time, Siloux had noticed a poster, upon it reading:

Archery Tournament!

To take place in the clear fields just outside the village after two moons

Siloux, like many forestmen, was excited for such archery tournaments.

Gathering his gear, Siloux went to practice in the woods.

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G11 Lydenham

THE trio of misfists trodded down the muddy road that led them out of forest. They had been walking for hours and finally they reached the outskirts of the small, rural village of Lydenham. Chickens were running freely around, chased by children. Vincent led the small band of warriors quietly towards his house.

"Come on in" he said, gesturing inside his house.

The fire of the hearth both lighted and warmed the small house. As soon as the trio was inside, Vincent slammed the door shut. His grumpy face brightened as soon as he caught a glimpse of his wife, who was working in the backyard.

"Eirene..." he murmured and stormed out, grabbing her tightly.

They hugged and both came back inside.

"Who are they..." Eirene asked when she saw the two strangers "...and why are they wearing Bull's arms?"

"People I helped in the forest. Don't be afraid, they mean no harm. State your names, you scoundrels" Vincent said, turning his head toward his visitors. His voice and complexion turned grumpier as he reached the end of his sentence.

"Kian and Bardock" Kian stated.

"Well, then, I bid you welcome in our humble home. I'll see to it you can get something to eat" Ereine replied.

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G11, Lydenham: Vince's Cottage

AFTER they had finished eating the meal Eirene had prepared for them, the three men went outside to catch a breath, leaving Eirene do to the dishes.

"So, why were those men after ye?" Vincent started "I'm sure some officials had a pretty good reason to send those soldiers after ye. Mind you, those were no mere militias guarding the towns and villages of the Kingdom, those were members of the Lupus Legion, veterans of the Northern War"

"The wot? The loony legion?" Bardock repeated, confused.

"Tsk. The Lupus Legion, you babbling brute..." Vincent sneered back "...the 3rd Legion of the 10 Legions the Knights Kingdom has. These are professionally trained soldiers, used only in war. The last war they fought was the Great Northern War, which I am sure of you both known. The War between our nations. I used to serve in the 3rd during the War..."

Vincent stopped and stared at the ground. His façade of toughness had fallen for a second time this evening.

"Those men that were chasing you, those men I killed, they..I... They were part of the unit I commanded. They were my brothers, my comrades and I have slaughtered them. SO YOU'D BETTER HAVE A DAMN GOOD REASON!" Vincent shouted. His turned red in anger.

"I'm sorry, lad" Bardock said shamefully "I wouldn't have a clue why those people came after us. I..."

"I might have the reason" Kian stated.

Bardock and Vincent both looked up at Kian, who was fetching something out of his pocket. In his hand he held an item that was wrapped in a filthy piece of cloth.

"This is why" he said, unveiling what looked like some sort of large, oversized pendant.

"What is it?" Bardock said amazed.

"You cannot be serious!" Vincent exclaimed loudly "you idiot!" his voice silenced "that's, that's..."

"The Heart of the Shield, indeed" Kian said. He looked confident and a smile formed on his face "courtesy of my friends Todd and Torik"

"How did they get it? It's a publicly known secret it's kept away safely and heavily guarded"

"Looks like it wasn't heavily guarded enough" Kian smirked.

"So, what's the plan?" Bardock said, his mind still processing all the newly acquired data.

"We go to destroy it..."

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G11, Lydenham: Vince's Cottage

"Well, that's easy!" chuckled Bardoc, his bearded face a picture of merriment.

"Easy? EASY?! We're talking about doing the impossible here, you great brute!" roared Vincent, eyes wide and face flushed red with anger.

He and Bardoc continued to shout back and forth, exchanging insults, including one nasty one about Bardoc's mother-in-law.

Kian, meanwhile, had found a rock and was thinking. The War seemed so long ago. The days, where, as a wealthy war hero, he had sat in his mansion and enjoyed life. Then he thought about his first excursions into the Woods, with his armored cart and Hope, his lovable horse.

Hope... He had none left, so she had gone too. He remembered when he had set Hope free, into the woods, and dumped his trusty old cart into a river. All that had been done, so he and Bardoc could eliminate their old life, and start a fresh one.

He still missed that part of his life, though.

Kian reached to his knapsack, and pulled out the Heart of the Shield. Something sacred to the Kingdomers, but had no meaning to him. He knew that it meant a lot to Vincent, and he owed him that much, but Kian had a plan, one that could change his whole life. And Bardoc's too, if he wanted in.

Looking over to the still-arguing men, Kian snuck round the back of the house, where he found...

Hope and his cart!

Kian almost choked with joy, and ran to Hope, giving her stroke after stroke and kissed her wet nose. He clambered inside his cart and ran his fingers along the hardwood armor, digging into the nooks and crannies that he had missed for such a time!

But this was not a time for such merriment, he had a plan, and it had to be put into action. Now.

Next to Hope was a large pile of dry logs. Perfect, thought Kian. Picking up a few, and grabbing two flint stones from the barrel next to the logs, he loaded them into his cart, finding all his crates and belongings still in there.

Somehow the cart must have lodged itself in the river, and Vincent must have found it and took it for his own. And Hope too, he supposed.

Marching purposefully round the house to the STILL arguing men, he cleared his throat, causing Vincent to look at him,. Bardoc, still trying to figure out what half of Vincent's insults actually meant, did not hear him.

Kian punched Vincent in the face, and knocked him out.

Now THAT caught Bardoc's attention!

"Kian! What in Cedric's name did you do that for?!" he said, stunned.

"Part of the plan, my friend!" said Kian, dragging Vincent's limp frame to his front door. "I also found Hope and my cart, Vince must have found them. Now, get in, we've got a LONG way to go until we get to the Viking lands!"

"Why on Earth are we going there! Its hard enough understand what they're saying, let alone not getting killed!"

Kian chuckled. He understood what Bardoc meant, of course, but comparing communication to murder was very funny.

"Because, you dimwit, Vikings mean boats! And boats mean a hell of a quicker trip to the Scorpion Knights Kingdom that by foot!" he replied, pulling the shield heart out of his pocket as he did so. "And THIS will get us a boat. Not a rented one. OUR boat."

Bardoc looked at Kian, as if you'd look at a mental patient who'd just performed a full volume of Shakespeare, in Mongolian. Then he realised, his father had been a boat maker, and Bardoc wasn't too bad himself.

"Lets do it!" he said.

And so Kian and Bardoc climbed into the cart, spurring Hope on, and riding north, towards the Viking lands.

What they didn't notice was that Vince had been awake for the better part of their plan, and had heard enough to make a decision.

"The walking dead," he said, before he slipped once more into a black vision.

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G10, On the border between Bull Knight's Land and Black Falcon's Land.

The small fire snapped, crackled and popped at the air, drawing in the oxygen, hungrily... greedily.

Kian stared straight into the fire, deep in thought. He was sitting on a large log they had found in the woods, and had set up camp, right by the border of the Black Falcons. Kian looked up at the dark, dirty walls that divided the kingdom from all others around it.

He tipped his head, and wept.


"HOLY BULLC**P!" roared Bardoc, as his finger was bitten into by Hope, Kian's horse.

He twisted his finger out of Hope's mouth, and clutched it tight to his chest.

Bardoc glowered at Hope.

"If you were not Kian's horse, I would slay you right now!" he spat.

He was about to cuff Hope round the ear, when he heard the sound of sobbing.

Bardoc quickly tied Hope to a tree, and ran in the direction of the sorrowful sound.


"Kian, what's up? Are you okay?"

The sound of Bardoc's voice, gentle and hushed, seeped through the sound of Kian's sobbing.

He raised his head and looked at Bardoc through streaming eyes.

"How are we going to do it, Bardoc? HOW?!" he wept.

"Oh, Kian. You musn't worry, it will all come to you, your the genius remember!" soothed Bardoc.

"But Bardoc! We must travel north through our homeland, where we are outlawed! Should we be seen, we will be slaughtered! We cannot go north..." replied Kian, his voice one of utter dismay.

Bardoc thought for a moment.

"We must go around," he said. "Through the Falcon's land,"

Edited by AwesomeStar

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D14, St. Peter's Port: Old Town

ST. PETER'S PORT was a bustling, thriving portal city on the southern coast of the Knights Kingdom. It was a central hub of all trade coming in via the sea and a main trading city between the Royal Knights and the Kingdomers. It was like that. Over the years, the city's wealth had takes its toll on the city. The population had fluctuated to a point where the necessary housing capabilities weren't available any more. The most important businesses moved to other cities and newly found ports. The population remained however and the part of the city, the most old part, fell in decay and destitution. It became a notorious place where lower class peasants who had fled the surrounding lands to work in the harbor came to live, and a breeding ground for thieves, criminals and other assorted scum. Old Town came to be deserted by rich people who took their possessions and moved up higher and the slopes away from the coast, founding New Town. Together with the nobles and merchants, law had left Old Town, too. The way lay open for rival gangs and petty warlords vying for power.

Bran and Tobias strolled down the harbor, having just docked the Serpent. Their search for employment had brought them to this notorious hive of villainy and poverty.

"Who or what are we searching here, actually?" Bran asked, whilst stepping over some drunk sailor.

"People told me, we needed to look for someone who's a butcher" Tobias answered.

"A butcher? Well, that's kinda vague, isn't it? And how will a butcher be able to help us? Have you even taken a look at this place? There's not a dime in town" Bran exclaimed, looking about disgusted.

"Apparently the butcher we need is some infamous crime boss here, who kinda runs part of this dump. I heard he's not even a real butcher by profession. People say that's just how he disposes of his enemies"

"What a sick town this is we've ended up in" Bran said and rolled his eyes.

They continued walking through the small, winding streets of Old Town. The overhanging houses blotted out the sun, causing the streets to look dark and even more filthy. At every corner there was either some beggar, a drunk or a prostitute. After walking around for some time, the duo decided that they should just ask someone for the person they were looking for.

"Butcher, eh, you say?" some old coot replied as they asked "'ll find him down in The Rabbit Hole, the inn somewhat further down the road 'ere. I don't know why you'd need him, crazy type that guy is, I tells you"

"Thanks, old man" Bran said and gave him a coin (actually it was a button) for his trouble.

They trotted onward and came into a somewhat broader street that eventually gave way to a large, dirt, fenced square. The inn they were looking for, was situated about in the middle of this street, flanked by small, but not quite, butcher's shop.

"Well, then: let's see how deep this Rabbit Hole is" said Tobias and stepped inside the inn, which doubled as a pub, gambling den and brothel at the same time.

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H10, Black Falcon's land

Kian was bored. The rhythmic beat of the clip-clop of Hope's horseshoes drilled into his brain, numbing it to the point of anger.

The trees, green and plentiful with leaves and blossom passed by, the edging of forest nearing an end and the barren plain of the Black Falcon's land coming into view.

Getting through the border had been a nightmare, with Kian and Bardoc having a huge argument with the guard.

They trotted on...



Edited by AwesomeStar

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H9, The Border Between the Bulls and the Falcons.

IT WAS DUSK. The camp-fire flames flickered in the night, illuminating the faces of Kian and Bardock as they sat around the fire. Neither talked. There was no need too.

Earlier that day, they had stumbled across a small settlement in the middle of nowhere. In the center, was a pile of bodies. They were all children.

Now, as they sat there, pondering what savage, foul beast could have done this, they were also trying to come to terms with the answer they already knew - their own people.

For today was the Day of the Feast, a horrific day where the warlords of the Bull's Kingdom went out and cannibalised their own race. It seemed that the the Falcons had held their own, but the children had still been slain.

They had not travelled far. They were in no rush. Creeping between the borders, never wanting to stray into either territory, exchanging stories and tales of lore and woe.

But nothing could hold off the sight they had saw that day. Children! It made both Kian and Bardock weep. For shame! Their own people - savages! Kian wanted to scream and wail, Bardoc snivelled into his beard.

They had to keep going. Keep on going, keep on going, for life or death, for shame or glory, for honour and a place at the table of the great God Farago'znarr!

They had to keep going.

Edited by AwesomeStar

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O11, Capital city of Morcia

Princess Rosalia tossed her shiny brown hair out of her eyes as she walked daintily through the tapestry lined halls of Morcia's grandest castle. Behind her was her favorite maid, Juniper, who she had been friends with since she was a young child. The two were returning to The Princesses chambers. They had been at an important meeting with the Dragon Master ambassador, discussing the repercussions of the political turmoil in their land, and how it may effect the allied countries. It had been rather boring, so the princess was relieved to finally retire to her quiet room and read her favorite novel. Suddenly a hansom guard turned a corner and nearly knocked into Rosalia.

Oh, My Lady, I didn't mean to run into you like that! I'm so sorry, I beg your forgiveness!

Oh, It's fine Sir Cedric, I know you meant me no harm. She replied, blushing. She had a secret crush on the good looking guard. In-fact, would you like to join me as I walk to my room?


Can you read Cedric?

Umm, a little. Not to be rude or anything, but I have a message that I must give to your father, King Mathias.

That sounds important, I best not delay you :cry_sad:

Well, I could, uh, accompany you to your room.


The trio soon climbed the flight of stairs leading to Rosalia's chamber. When the got to the door, Rosalia handed Juniper her crown, bent down and retrieved the key from her shoes.

Hey, Cedric, would you mind lighting my candles for me?

Not at all ma'am.

Cedric then stepped into the room with Juniper following and Rosalia stepping in last. Immediately she could tell that something was amiss. She scanned the room, and then realized that her windows were open!

Someone's been in my room!

Why use the past tense? said a gravely voice that seemed to come from all around her.

The door slammed shut, revealing an armoured figure. His tattered cape blew in the wind along with the curtains.

I'll protect you Princess! Cried Cedric

No you won't. The man said, stabbing Cedric through the chest with a long thin saber.

The Princess was in shock, barely keeping herself from bawling. Juniper stood behind her, peering over her shoulders.

Which one of you is the princess?

Neither answered.

Fine then I guess I'll have to take you both.

The suit walked over to the two, pulling out his blood drenched sword from the corpse of Cedric. He tore a piece of cloth from a curtain and wiped his blade clean.

Stop, don't take us! My father would pay you anything you wanted!

Sweety, Ransom doesn't work unless I take you away first, and second of all, I'm not going to take the two of you.

You're not?The Princess asked hopefully.

No. Just you. He stuck his sword into Juniper, and she collapsed dead on the floor.

No! No! No! The Princess babbled as she was lifted onto the shoulders of the evil knight.

Who are You?! She screamed

Deluge. he replied as he leapt out of the window of the tall tower, and onto the back of a shadow bat.

(ooc; This is a follow up to the Comte de Comtes only post in the story, where he suggests to the necromancer in charge of the evil skelies that he would get a thief to kidnap the princess.)

Q15, Capital of the Fright Knight Kingdom

In a small room in the Fright Knight Castle, dark events transpire...

(ooc; I'm not sure how to make pics on Brickshelf smaller, so I'll just provide a link.)

Pic 1

The poorly customized King Basil stood, scepter in hand, before a bizarre group. Representatives of The Trolls, The rebellious evil Skelies, and the Ankorians sat with their companies waiting for the meeting to start. Beside The King was a prince of darkness, loyal to the king of darkness, who had been asleep for eons.

In walked The Comte de Comtes.

Pic 2

I see that I'm fashionably late.

As usual, nephew. (ooc; I figure, Comte de Comtes is his nephew as Brutus was Caesar's son)

Let us get on with the meeting. growled the Prince.

Very good. I wish to know your opinion Orc, on the new troops we have for you.

Pic 3

The Troglodytes you have given us are effective. The orc representative looks up at the reptile like orc standing next to him. The trog flicks its tongue, sensing his master's approval. How did you find them?

We didn't, we made them by combining the strengths of our swamp lizards, with members of your own species. You will find that they are twice as hardy as your men.

No doubt. said the orc grudgingly.

Now we move on to a very pressing subject, Ankoria may have a second chance at the throne of The Draconic kingdom....

Around the corner of the room stood a figure, Hands cupped to the stone wall, listening intently. The Spy, Prince Dragula, knew that this couldn't be good. The old alliance between the scorpions, orcs, and Fright Knights had been reestablished. This could only mean one thing. The Sleeper is awakening.

Edited by Dannylonglegs

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N11, Deep in the Mistlands of Morcia (which should be more southern than they are.... :devil: )

The shadow bat had long since dissipated. Deluge and his hostage were trekking through the dark swampy land of the Mistlands, transition land between the evil corruption of The Fright Knight's Kingdom (Vystmalia) and the natural world. Dusk had fallen and the thick bamboo forests cast umbrage across the blackguard's mask. The sun set on the two. Deluge's blades immediately changed color from silver to ebony black.

"It's night." He announced. "I assume you're nourished?"

Rosalia didn't understand the question so didn't answer despite having a fierce hunger.

They stopped and Deluge built a fire.

"You'll never get over the southern wall," She said suddenly. "You'll never get me back to Vystmalia!"

"We're not going to Vystmalia." Corrected Deluge curtly.

"What?" demanded the Princess.

"We've been traveling west."

"But that's imposable, The Mistlands are in the south part of our land. They are the land reclaimed from your foul empire! That's to the South!"

"You haven't been out in your country lately, have you Your Highness? Borders mean nothing to us. Once again our land will stretch from the southern peninsula to the Mahktesh Gadol desert, and we will succeed where we failed in the great orc invasion and take over the whole continent."


"You'll see" He commented. "Stay. I'll be back in the morning. If you try to escape, you'll get lost and I'll find you, dead or alive. If you stay near this fire, nothing can hurt you... If I don't want them to."

The princess whimpered as she watched the monster walk away, knowing that many others were staring back....

Pic (OoC; When I built that, I realized that that color scheme is *ing amazing, and now I claim that color scheme as my favorite. :tongue: )

....To be continued....

Edited by Dannylonglegs

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N11, same as last post....

Princess Rosalia woke with a start, the sun had just risen and there was a strange noise in the air. Rosalia looked around hastily, trying to see whatever made the sound. It was like a banshee's wail, and the clank of metal hooves hitting rocks. The Princess stood up at turned, nearly slamming into the snout of an evil looking creature. It seemed to be a beast of smoke, with blood red eyes. It's form was that of a blackened skeletal horse, not too dissimilar from the shadow bat that Deluge had summoned the previous day. She stumbled backwards and the monstrosity opened it's disproportionately large mouth and let out the most horrible cry. To Rosalia it sounded like the whine of ten thousand infants watching their parents burn. A tear came to her eyes as she continued to slink away from it, making sure to remain near the fire. However, she walked right into a tree, or at-least what she thought was a tree.

"Good Morning Princess," Said the already-too-familiar voice of Deluge. "We didn't make very much headway yesterday, I'm afraid, so I killed this for you and I to ride to our destination."

"What do you mean 'Killed this'" Stammered the princess, fear and anger building in her voice.

"It's obviously no longer a living horse."

"You mean to say that you can--create shadow beasts like this?! You're a monster! This was once a living creature! How could you?!"

"Convenience, and conveyance." He curtly responded. He hoisted the reluctant princess onto the back of the murdered beast, and tied chains to her arms. "Hyah!!" he cried, and the two leapt onward without a bite of breakfast. pic

N10, later in the day....

Storm clouds rumbled to life in the sky, rolling over the inhabitable badland below. Beneath the carpet of grey laid a brown marsh of sorts. Trees gave the broken land wide birth for within the plain of tan grass and mire was a great man made evil--War. The marsh stretched on to the horizon, or at-least it seemed to. It gave way to vibrant green grass at some point.

Deluge slounched on the rump of his Night-Mare and Princess Rosalia held on to the boney neck for dear life, more scared of Deluge than the undead horse. When they arrived at the front of the unhallowed marsh, Deluge stepped off the horse to guide it. When they came to the middle of the war-zone, Rosalia finally opened her eyes. She let out a shriek, for her gaze was met by the sockets of a long-dead warrior. "Where are we?!" she cried to her captor. pic

"Sometimes, when so many die, the living land refuses to grow back. This is where the bloodiest battle of the great orc invasion occurred. The ground is stained with the blood of great heroes, and butchers alike." he explained. "Can't you feel it in your soul?" He added, mockingly.

"I doubt you even have a soul!" The Princess yelled, but truly she could feel it. It was like a pressing despair that was actively tearing down her defenses. She was suddenly sick.

"Oof!" She cried as she swooned from the back of the shadow-steed. She landed face first in the evil mire. Her hand grasped something--it seemed to be a normal stone, encrusted in mud. She pocketed it quickly as she stood up. Deluge grabbed her by the back of her white dress and pushed her back onto the horse. pic

"Don't try anything like that again." Deluge growled. And they pressed on....

(OoC; Check out mah new Banner! This is the first I've made, and it's supposed to look like Khorn's)

....To Be Continued.....

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