- Temper's Ball
- Maxim

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Author Ok, so we're really pirates [Outcasts v. WoR&TEN;]

Posted: 2002-08-11 22:45     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
-The rubble and destruction that had occured. He had stood by and tried to salvage what was left of things. Trying to rearm in preparation for the next attack. Smoke billowed from the many fires that had been set. The crackling and burning of sooo much as he had realized that this was in vain. Gathering what he could, he moved to get away, just long enough for things to blow over. He knew things would not be the same. He wanted to die with this people, they were his brethren, but he knew, if they were to get out with their heads, they must make that effort. There was little hope. He changed into the worst clothes he could find, to try and slip out unnoticed. Battered and worn. He left with a small band of those he could trust. Leaving the castle, he moved silently and quickly through the streets. At the end of each path, there lie the heathens. Waiting to take what they could. It seemed almost hopeless. He then saw his way out. The heathens had been enslaving them. Savages. All of them. He followed in behind the last of his peasants. Once past the guards, he would make his break. away,and out. Somewhere. But as he slipped past, he realized, it was a fatal mistake. Looking between the rows of people and enemy. No escape, not here. Not this time. chains and shackles were finding their way onto the people. And he was no different. the cold steel was slapped harshly around his neck and arms. Well, no he'd done it. STUPID STUPID STUPID.-

-He tried to make himself all the more inconspicuos. Once he was traded and out, he could buy his way out. He had made sure there was a backup. someone to follow through with his ruling. He was not worried, not in the least. If he went down, he went down, with as much honor as eh could have. He tried. That's all they could ask for. As he moved with the rest of the people, single-file. He kept his head down. Trying to blend in. His clothes though. Even as ragged and torn as they had been, still stood out. He should have changed to something else. Head down still, following the steps of the one before him. Not making eye contact with any of the heathen lords. He knew, it would either be the coming of his death...or the awakening of something more-

~*~Burn their bridges, Forge ahead, To the hilt~*~
Hitman of WoR


Posted: 2002-08-12 02:29     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
Two knights walked by in front of him, their still-damp black garments hanging over their shoulders. AmirKa's own black suit hung behind him in a tree, he could hear it rustling in the costal breeze. Other than the obvious dampness of his men, the attack had gone well. The lands were cleanly swept over, and the Outcasts had set up a stronghold on the mainland.

In his mind, that translated to one thing: boredom. His army would no doubt move out again in the morning, and be on defense all night, but this time right now - the setting up and securing the area - was irksome. He hated not being in action, and waiting for the other side to make the first move. It implied a lack of control of the situation, and that was his worst pet peeve.

So, to grant some illusion of control, he walked to the nearest one of his men. He had seen this one in action today, and had been particularly satisfied - the men took on his training better than he would have thought.

"What news?" he said simply to the Knight. By now, they were used to his short sentences and abrupt questions.

"The Raven's ship will be landing shortly, sir," the man said, staring straight ahead. AmirKa nodded and walked toward the coast, through the battered remains of the village. He ignored the cries of the captured; they weren't a threat. However, he couldn't ignore the bodies in front of him. The collars were strapped on them, one by one, and they were led off. He frowned, not quite understanding what they would be used for.

However, before he could muse on the morality of slavery, something tugged at the back of his mind. He immediately began scanning the area for threats; he had learned always to trust that subconscious feeling of...wrongness. Having surveyed the surroundings, he looked back to the slaves, when he saw him.

Two things he immediately noticed. One, his clothes were odd. This would arise suspicion in him, but not enough to give him that eerie feeling. No, it was just the way that this prisoner acted. Whereas the others looked like scared peasants, about to be sold, this one looked...well...too scared. Too frightened. He never took his eyes off the spot in front of him. He follwed steps near exactly. He kept his head down.

He was trying too hard.

"Get that man. The one in the different clothing. Bring him to the Raven," he spoke to the Knight that had come up behind him. The Knight was apparently not aware that he had been detected, because he paused a bit before following the order. AmirKa didn't move his gaze from the strange prisoner as the startled Knight walked into his view.

"C'mon, heathen," the Knight said simply, tugging on the man. AmirKa walked on in front of them, arriving in front of Govan.

"This one is different, Govan. He...uh. He's just different," he stammered, gesturing behind him at the shackled man. It was up to her now - he could have his instincts, but he would let Govan figure out the specifics.

Something's better on the other side...
Outcast Nobility


Posted: 2002-08-12 12:37     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
I was looking up at the walls of the keep, surprised at their condition. Usually when we took a realm by force, the strongholds are mauled and left in ruins. It seemed that Vridik had worked his magic here though, for other than some light charring, the keep was intact.

There was a commotion behind me, and I turned. The guards parted, letting AmirKa through. I smiled faintly, nodding to him. Two guards came behind him, a man between them. A collared heathen man. I grimaced.

I see you lived through the assault, AmirKa. However, I don't need any personal slaves. I hope you have a reason for bringing this heathen to me. I turned again, facing the keep, pondering. It would make a good stronghold.

Govan Vran
Raven of the Outcasts
The Real and Original Raven


Posted: 2002-08-12 16:47     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
He stared at Govan as she turned around, not quite sure if that was a joke or a gesture of annoyance. He mentally shrugged - didn't matter. He was sure there was something different about this heathen.

"Begging your pardon," he started. He wasn't much for humor himself, but hell, he had been around a bunch of sailors, it was hard not to pick up on it. "But I am well aware of the Raven's lack of need for personal slaves. She, after all, has us Knights." Not waiting for any response, he continued.

"However, I think this...slave...deserves a second look," he said, switching back to a familiar tone. "I think we might have found one of the nobility of the coast. I would have roughed him up a bit to get him to talk, but I assumed that your tongue would be more punishment than my fist, m'lady."

He looked at the slave, and frowned. Yes, he was definitely different. An admirable one, no doubt, AmirKa thought with a tinge of respect. What other type of man would follow his people into slavery?

Something's better on the other side...
Outcast Nobility


Posted: 2002-08-12 17:21     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
I giggled.

I think it might have scared AmirKa, him being used to me as being aloof and standoffish. But he was funny at times.

Yup, I have you knights. So, nobility you think?

I turned, and eyed the captive up and down. Yes, he did have a certain look about him. His clothing, though ruined, were once rich and fine. His posture, though he had tried to hide it, was one of a person used to power.

Good job spotting him, AmirKa. I am impressed. So maybe I didn't trudge out into the middle of hell for you for nothing, after all. I slapped him on the shoulder, then eyed the captive.

Mmh. I was about to head into the main hall. I bet Vridik is holding 'court' there. We should join him, the three of us.

I glanced down at the line of slaves, biting my lip. Rough and ragged, I had no true desire to ruin their lives. And yet...

Bring me that woman. The one with the young boy and girl. I pointed, and one of my guards - Siawn - obeyed. He brought them over to me, handling them carefully. I was always able to depend on my knights to have honour and respect for others, just like I could expect my thieves and pirates to want to loot and destroy. Making both parties work together was such a chore.

I crouched by the two kids, probably about five and six years of age. The younger was a girl, her pudgy child face smudged with tears and soot, framed by limp blond curls. The boy was the elder, his eyes angry and his scrawny boy-child body tense with fury. His dark eyes flashed brightly, his tanned small hands clenched into fists. He stood in front of his mother, obviously taking his duty of 'Man of the House' sincerely.

What's your name? I asked, reaching out and wiping the little girl's face. The tears had left trails in the dirt which looked quite ungainly. She looked at her mother hesitantly, but when she provided no insight, she looked at me again.

Isla. She lowered her face and stared at her feet. I ruffled her hair, then pivoted on my heels to look at the boy.

And yours, young soldier? He growled at me, and Isla whimpered. I like to know the names of the fierce enemies I know I will face honourably in the future. Very few people are awarded this accord, I added, smiling at the boy. He took to the compliment.

Jacob. I nodded at him, then asked both of them another question.

Do you know the name of the man there? I pointed at the captive Lord. He's a bit dazed so he can't answer, but I need to know. Otherwise, he may be hurt.

The woman snapped something in another language, and the children fell silent. I frowned at her, then reached out and pulled Isla to me. I looked at her again, before turning her around to face the woman.

Isla, where is your daddy? The girl sniffled, before replying. Her voice was young and stuffed and very sad.

He's playing on Darden's field now. The mother winced, and I smiled.

I am sure he is having fun, Isla. Would you like to join him? The mother grew pale and Jacob growled. Isla was too young to understand, and nodded.

Well, tell me the name of the man there and I'll let you go to him. You can take your mother and brother too. I had provided a deal too sweet for the young girl to resist.

He's Lord Attero! He's our leader. Isla smiled at the captive, then turned to me. Can I go see daddy now? Please? I nodded at her, and stood.

I turned to Siawn. Remove the shackles and collars from these three. Have them escorted to the Flying Raven and placed below decks with Liaojie. Inform the vampire that these three are NOT for snacking, but are to be brought to Ynis Sci to restart their lives as free people. I turned to the mother.

I am sorry for your loss.

With that, I dismissed the four of them, and regarded the Lord named Attero.

Well, Attero. It is time for you to see your fallen realm from a fallen keep.

Govan Vran
Raven of the Outcasts
The Real and Original Raven


Posted: 2002-08-12 18:48     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
-Not speaking, he moved with the others. Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Arms in front of him, walking slowly behind the person in front of him. Hair fallen in front of his face. After a few steps, he heard something. He couldn't make it out at first. Until he glanced out of the corner of his eye.-

-Two guards moving towards him. Breathing deeply, he hoped they were moving for someone else. Someone besides him. And then the hands. Gripping him firmyl and pulling him from the line. He kept his head down as best he could to hide his face from the heathen scum. Game over. If only he could withhold who he was a bit longer. Just enough to make a plee that he was someone else. Just another peasant, trying to get through with his life. Then he was brought before the nobility. The ones who had ravaged his land. He had never seen the faces, but he knew the smell.-

-He stood, half limply in the guards hands. Just listening to the conversation. No sound being made beyond the occasional umph or ooof from being drug about. As he saw the woman children brought forth, he knew. And he could only hope. The bastards were taking advantage of a small child. He could feel some anger rise within him, but he must contain. Not....let....go....Gritting teeth, silence still followed. BASTARDS. He knew, the day would come, and he would look upon them. He would make a special plan. One involving the death of many. When he would seize the land that they had once taken from him. No mercy upon them. NONE. Though he kept quiet still.-

-The conversation carried forth, and then the question was raised. He hoped that she would not know. He knew he had spent many days in the marketplace, enjoying the company of his kingdom. He waited for the answer, such bait. So brutal. He knew deep down, the brutality would be returned ten fold. He would see to that. He would make sure of it. As Govan sent them off, and turned to him.-

-He slowly tipped his head up to the one before him. Govan. A smirk cast upon the lips. Fallen? He has not fallen, nor has his realm. Merely set back. In time, things would be back to the way they were. Happy and carefree. Wars would still wage, and Darden would stake his claim on them all. Fallen....HA...A harsh, raspy voice came forth. Looking directly at Govan.-

"HA! Heathens are all alike. Obviously guessing that because land has been taken and people are dead, that one has fallen. They have so much to learn."

~*~Burn their bridges, Forge ahead, To the hilt~*~
Hitman of WoR

[ This Message was edited by: Attero on 2002-08-12 18:48 ]


Posted: 2002-08-12 21:49     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
Sculking about in the shadows was a habit Mya'd given up a long time ago. She had decided that it simply did not suit her... just as poisoning the water supplies of unsuspecting villagers did not suit her.

Ah, but someone has to, don't they... she thought to herself, looking out at the ruined towns, and the smoke rising to the sky some ways off. At least some of that smoke was her doing as well, and she took much more satisfaction in that sight. Let the temples burn. She knew they would be rebuilt... probably far too quickly for her liking... but for the moment, they burned.

Still, it did not sit well with her, this coming by night and killing so many unsuspecting innocents. Heathens though they were - and worse still, followers of Darden! - she prefered to fight her wars face to face. Blades should be bared against other blades... not the throats of sleeping families. But such was what had been asked of her.

And here she was... Spy. Thief. Gatherer of information and poisoner of waters. A silent blade that slipped beneath the blanket of security and cut the throats of those sleeping under it.

Though perhaps... Perhaps it really was not so different from marching on heathen lands alongside a army. The end result was much the same, after all.

~MyaLynn Raenlock~
Devoted to the one... Isonia
"When all is said and done, will you still stand by me?"


Posted: 2002-08-13 00:09     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
Crouched upon the shore he surveys the carnage going on around him.
The sounds of warcries filling the air, he moves into the shadows.
Moving slowly up towards the ongoing battle, he searches for a meal.
Three heathens engaged in battle, oblivious to his advancing.
He waits for his opportunity to attack, crouched down in the grass.
Slowly the battle moves closer to his hidden location, with a quick lunge one of them drops to the ground.
Grasping at the head of the victim he sinks his teeth deep into the warm flesh, tearing at the neck's soft skin.

Finally a warm meal.........

~Noble Sectistica~
~Order Sectica | Outcast Nobility~
~Keeper of Shadows~


Posted: 2002-08-13 00:17     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
Did she just giggle?

AmirKa's confusion was cut short as Govan began her...theatrics with the young family. He was truly impressed - and it just backed up the reason why he had immediately passed the prisoner off to her. He might be able to evaluate and act on physical acts, but when it came to politics, he was a few ships short of a fleet.

And she even let the people go free. Part of that irked at his cautious side - you could never be sure how long feelings of vengeance would last, and that boy sure looked tempestuous. Regardless, he was sure it was the right decision. Better than killing them. Probably.

The man slowly began to move, and AmirKa scowled instinctively. He looked about, the two knights swords weren't even out, but he figured he could snap the prisoner's neck in under two seconds if he made the wrong move. However, he just spoke up to Govan. His words were throaty and sharp, not to mention brave and audacious. He didn't really want to get into an arguing match here though.

"You are correct, Lord Attero. We have much to learn. Like the inner workings of your keep," AmirKa said to him. He looked at the two Knights who had led Attero over. They weren't part of his group - so he'd have to resort to being some semblance of tactful. "I'll take care of him. I can't imagine one shackled prisoner getting the best of us. Dismissed." Finally, he turned to Govan, rubbing his forehead at the rapidly developing headache.

"I'll play guard duty. There's nothing to do, and idle hands are the devil's plaything." He waited for Govan to lead the way to the keep.

Something's better on the other side...
Outcast Nobility


Posted: 2002-08-13 10:14     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
I leaned back in the chair, the back legs creaking ominously. I looked over the grand hall, the pools of blood and bodies untouched. They definately added a bit of spice to the cold dark stone walls, in my opinion.

This was my work. This was what I did for a living, and I loved my work. The baron of this keep had been easy to slay - his body, throat slit - lie on the floor in front of me.

I put my feet onto the ground, the front chair legs slamming down onto the floor. I picked up my fork and began to eat the meal I had ordered from the servants of the Keep.

Govan's Knights - those honourable and officious slime of men - lined the walls, their faces stern, miserably, and grumpy. Until Govan arrived, I was in charge of the keep, and they hated what I was doing.

Come now, we need some entertainment. Bring out some of the servants.

Some of the older captives were brought out, ones that wouldn't fetch much on resale. Other sneaks - ones of my mind - picked up their whips and began to start 'entertainment'.

I watched the faces of the Knights as the first screams rang out. They were definately unhappy with this turn of events.

Face it, Ole Stuffy Ones, until Govan is here, I am in charge.


Posted: 2002-08-13 10:23     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
I walked through the gates of the keep, waving at the troops who either hooted at me or saluted, depending on whether they were Sneaks of Knights. The Arctics were too busy sanctifying the keep and watching for spiritual traps.

I entered through the main doors, confident that Thyarr would follow with the captive. Annoying little prig. I was sure now that heathens didn't bathe because the worst odor came off of him.

Most keeps kept to a usual pattern, and it wasn't difficult for me to find the hall that lead to the main audience room. From ahead, I could hear laughter, then screams. My lips curled back in a snarl.

That idiot Vridik. What is he doing? I began to lope towards the end of the hall, stopping right before the doors.

Face it, Ole Stuffy Ones, until Govan is here, I am in charge.

I muttered, and placing both hands on the double doors, I pushed them open. They swung open, slamming against the walls. The loud crack drew the gazes of my Knights, and of my Sneaks. Everyone paused - Knights with swords half drawn, and Sneaks with whips held high.

Well, guess who's here now, Vridik? I called, the undertone of my voice unmistakably angry.

You act no better than a heathen. Go. Look for traps. Make yourselves useful, or go back onto the boats. This display disgusts me.

Vridik stood, his eyes smouldering in anger. I faced him down, me slightly shorter than him.

Try me, Vridik. I'll kill you here and now, for you try my patience far too often. Vridik glared a few moments more, then stalked off. His Sneaks followed, some actually looking chagrined at their behaviour. Good. Some of them weren't as inherently stupid and evil as Vridik.

You. Siawn and Charles. Clean this mess up. Give these men and women a proper burial. Least we can do to make up for Vridik's cruelty.

I pointed towards the Lord of the Keep and his men, then gestured towards the 'Entertainment.'

Bring survivors of Vridik's disgusting display to the healers. Bury the dead with honour. We are not barbarians that we act this way!

I sat in the throne-like chair, facing the hall. The captive had been dragged in by AmirKa just seconds behind me stalking into the hall, and I watched him carefully.

I hate this, AmirKa. Damn the gods for being too involved in their own petty squabbles to see what it does to their followers. I rested my face in my hands and groaned tiredly.

Govan Vran
Raven of the Outcasts
The Real and Original Raven


Posted: 2002-08-13 10:25     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
The Dark knight trudgingly rode into his camp. Beside him rode another. covered in her cloak and slighly slumped over. Those on duty knew their Lord had returned and that his lady, the preistess Nightbloom, rode along side him. About a hundred yards back a small column of about 200 men rode in the sme fashion. Since they're landing, they had had little sleep. The bulk of Shadowborn army had spent most of the war here after his initial assault -- On defense. He hated defense. Scouring the country sides with a small unit, ferreting out rebels and routing small bands of heathen soldiers.

He slide of his mount and without any thought of strecthing his aching limbs he went for his lady. Gently lifting her from her mare he eased her to the ground and waited until she could stand properly. On the island Nightbloom had little use for horses. Her actvities kept her in the capital city almost all of the time.

Pointing to a guard nearby, who had watched them enter he said,

You there, Ameron is it?, escort the lady to her tent. Make sure she eats and rests

Shadowborn made it a personal mission to know the names of as many of his troops as he could. Almost as an after thought he added,

And find two more of your men that you trust and guard her. There may still be heathen scu about.

With only a nod and a salute, escorted the lady into the early morning fog, whiched housed her tent somewhere nearby.

Pern emerged from the fogs almost as soon as the pair disappeared in it. He order the column to disband and rest. Shadowborn looked to him and smiled. his first since they landed.

It was a good war wasn't it?

I dare say no wars are good m'lord. But if I must compare,
His usually stern expression cracked slighly into a grin, it was masterfully done.

Both chuckled softly. After a brief silence, shadowborn stretched and headed into the fog towards where the troops still slept, leaving Pern behind. He would sleep with his men again tonight as he always did on a campaign, his only wods from the gloom,

Take out 200 more. It's your turn for patrol

[ This Message was edited by: Shadowborn on 2002-08-13 10:26 ]

Vailane, Tai Dul

Posted: 2002-08-13 15:15     Profile; Edit   Reply w/Quote
"Come now, we need some entertainment. Bring out some of the servants."

The words themselves held no meaning for the Mahladri. The babble of the natives had not yet been subject to translation, and so it was the actions that most greatly concerned the silent archer poised in the balconies of the Keep. The flaying of prisoners was not precisely frowned upon in certain context, but somehow this seemed inappropriate. Judgeing from the reactions of the Leader's contempraries, this was an appropriate assumption.

They did not approve.

Nor did Vridik's open contempt go unnoticed by the Mahladri.

The screams echoed in the high ceilings, and Vailane raised her hand in gesture to a number of other shadows in other niches. They had discovered something lovely about the structures that the invaders had taken...there were plenty of places to hide.

The trick would be useing them effectively. There were only a handful of them left that hadn't been killed or captured when the newcomers entered the fray. Caught between the native residents on one side and the invaders comeing at them from the sea, the survivors of the Mahladriel had found no means of escape.

Organizing the handful of people she had left, they had returned to the landing to set about exacting vengeance and escapeing with anyone else they could retrieve. Weeks of poseing as mutes and town fools, secret plannings and thefts...it all came down to one moment. One final spur of coordination, and hopeing to the Gods that the team in the dungeon was doing their job right...

One pull of the string.

"Face it, Ole Stuffy Ones, until Govan is here, I am in charge."

One loosed arrow.

"Well, guess who's here now, Vridik?"

One fatal moments hesitation.

The arrow slid silently forward, the string relaxing slowly. This was a most curious turn of events. "You act no better than a heathen. Go. Look for traps. Make yourselves useful, or go back onto the boats. This display disgusts me."

As with anything the invaders or their victims said, the words held little meaning in themselves. But o', to read the voice. Anger, boiling indignation. Confrontation. Either this was the Leader's furiously displeased consort or the true master of their attackers.

Given the way he backed down and ran, and the way she started ordering people around, probably the latter. She gave a hold signal, knowing full well that in a few minutes it would all come down anyway. They could wait to cover the escape and take vengeance at the same time, if need be.

To think that they had almost shot the wrong person.

If we all knew the Secret,
What would become of us?


[ This Message was edited by: Vailane, Tai Dul on 2002-08-13 15:33 ]

D'lil Veldrin

Posted: 2002-08-13 17:50     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
Lines of captives, never ending lines of people in shackles, or awaiting them. Women, babies, children, and even the occasional man with heads hung low, wearing tattered and dirty clothing, shuffling their feet in unison it seemed. That is all the drow saw from the window in a quiet tower of the keep. Turning away from the window he walked back into the darkness, out of the beam of light shinning through the window.

The maps he had provided Govan were perfect. The list of weakness flawless. There was nothing that could have been done to stop the assault; it had been carried out with near perfection, great swiftness, and the feeble had fallen. And now the feeble pay the price.

The drow was now becoming restless. He hated staying still. He much preferred to be on the move, lurking in the shadows, gathering information, and wreaking the occasional havoc. Deciding that it was time to track down Govan and ask what her future plans were, he made his way for the door. Hopefully, she had a next move planned so that he could get back to doing what he loved.

I just hope that she is in the keep. I really don�t want to search about town for her, I detest that sunlight!

Outcast Nobility
We only come out at night, we only come out at night.
The days are far too bright.
We only come out at night.


Posted: 2002-08-13 18:13     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
The brothers arrived at the coast, the landing point for much of the Outcasts, and the sight of one of the largest battles in the war, leaving advisors and generals to handle things in the newly acquired lands from their own strikes. They had sent men there already, for the purposes of keeping records. The twins did their best to keep accurate records and histories, of all they good.
But they came now because of some of the reports they had recieved back. They had heard rather displeasing news, and come to see it was indeed true. And they learned upon their arrival that it was indeed. They needed to speak with the Raven on these matters.
They set out to do just that, asking some of the soldiers as to her location. After a few unsuccessful attempts they were pointed in the right direction.

Guilden and Rosen Woodson
Sons of Mantella Woodson
Rulers of Erindale
Outcast Nobility

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