The Great Library of Palanthas
An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.
Stories of Ansalon from the view of Tachande.
A little gully dwarf runs by and says 'Wordwrap Off 65 80.'
The gully continues 'Eyes hurt? Turn Color OFF!! (regular story dates)
Astinus says 'Enter the main library here to view only the author list.'
Astinus gently places an enormous book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Tachande' scribed in earth-colored brown ink.
Author: Tachande Date: Mon Dec 24 07:13:45 2007 Subject Times in War Tachande looked up from the din of battle. Corpses littering the battlefield on which he fought. The bellowing of goblins, draconians, and men pierced the air. Great plumes of smoke rose high into the sky, columns of charcoal floating into the cyan sky. Time seemed to slow as he looked at he next goblin to attack. Squat and putrid, another one charged. Its sweeping blade gleaning a blow against the left pauldron of his shoulder. Slashing down in a sharp twist, the goblins head slid off of its head. A great gout of black blood sprouting in a plume from the wound. Hearing the clash of men and swords, screams of the dying, and the constant roar of war washed against the fringes of his sanity. Too much war has he witnessed. Too much bloodshed. Yet what must he do, for that is all he has known. Ever since the Goblin Scourge that claimed his family has he ever been on the move. Fighting as a mercenary or sellsword for most of his teen life. Then branching off and joining a knighthood belonging to that of the awoken god , Paladine. 'Est Solarus Oth Mithas', the code in which he fought for, the code that shall claim his life. Fighting on the broken soil, outside of the sacked city. Hundreds of soldiers from both sides adding to the ever thirsting hunger of war. Now, bereft of sanity, he fights on. Cutting swathe after swathe of goblins and draconians down as his fellows kill and fall. Blood coating his armor, each death scoring a mark on his ravaged soul. Can there not be redemption for this evil? Shall they only die? There is a silence over the battlefield, only the blaring of horns and the scream of the dying. Looking around, he only registers the multitudes of soldiers and knights wandering around, helping the wounded, or sending away the foul to their Queen. Wiping his notched swords on the corps of a fallen warrior of dark, he strode over to one of the many fallen warriors. The agony of the fallen knights face blared deep into his soul. Looking down at the young knight, Tachande closed his eyes in prayer, sanctifying this youths soul to Paladine. Sobbing in fear the young knight looks up into the eyes of the old warrior, I'm, the knight stammered, dying aren't I? Slowly he nods, yes, and soon you shall join Paladine's side against the Dark Queen. The young knight's mouth fills with blood as he cries out, I don't want to die, I don't want to fight anymore. Averting his gaze, Tachande walks away from the sobs of the dying youth, too young, this war, the gods, they claim too much. Tachande strode through the masses of the fallen, through the screams and curses. Through yet another battlefield and another war. Looking past the fallen, towards the command tents of the Captains and Lieutenants, swiftly approaching. Casting aside the tent flap the officers look up from the maps and diagrams strewn throughout the table. How fares the battle, soldier? Saluting his officer he mutters the last words, Finished. We have our victory. The cheers of the victors are heard across the encampment. Yet after giving his report on the battle, Tachande leaves the command tent in search of his own, Yet at what price. At what price does this victory cost? Looking out amongst the multitudes of tents and soldiers still around, he lets out a great sigh. Knowing that there will be many more battles before this war is done. Author: Tachande Date: Tue Dec 23 07:36:04 2008 Subject Goddesses in the Night " What," roared the minotaur," that man should be dead!" Another minotaur knelt nearby, clutching at a wicked wound across his torso," my men have failed you milord, we set upon him in a grove, and yet he defeated them, milord, we didn't stand a chance." "He's a HUMAN, how can he have taken five of my best warriors," the Leader roared, " how you pathetic excuse for a cow?" The kneeling warrior's eyes glazed as a pool of blood slowly appeared at his feet," he was so fast, two of my warriors fell before they even drew their blades, the rest fell with little fight," more blood seeped from the warrior's wound as his hand fell away to his hip," his swords, sang, twisting their screams into something terrible." The Leader looked over at the dying warrior, his sword flashing out of its scabbard, then how is it you managed to live? The dying minotaur's gaze lifted," I fled, yet not before his swords got to me." The Leader's blade arced as it met the kneeling minotaur's neck, blood fountained from the decapitated corpse. "Wrathban, summon the guard, tell them to report to the forests surrounding this city at once, look for a human with two swords strapped to his sides, execute him on site." Later that night, scores of minotaurs and goblins scanned the nearby woods to no avail. Dozens of patrols did not leave the woods, having fallen to the lone man's woodlore. Sitting in his quarters the Leader of the Minotaurs looked at the reports strewn out before him, "Takhisis be damned, how has he escaped, how?" He is chosen, said a voice from the shadows. The Leader's gaze fell upon a beautiful woman standing at the corner of the room. "Mistress," he stammered. Takhisis walked towards the disbelieving minotaur," there is great power in this man, his fate shall tie in with your own before the end." The shaken leader looked up at the Queen of Darkness," how, what has this man have to do with our army?" Takhisis stretched out her hand and caressed the face of the terrified minotaur," he will lead an even greater host in my honor, and by his hand my dreams will come to fruition." Fur and flesh burned as Takhisis's power surged into the minotaur. His mark for his disbelief, his shame. "His name is Tachande, and he shall be the catalyst for my return." The Leader was left stammering as the goddess departed back to the Abyss. Author: Tachande Date: Fri Jan 2 10:07:38 2009 Subject Meeting of the Wolfkin Tachande awoke from a troubled sleep and began to stretch out his cramped muscles. After he finally awoke he set off towards the sound of a stream nearby. He eyed the ground as he entered the clearing and discovered tracks in the mud. Surrounding the stream, dozens of trees littered the landscape. Crouching low, Tachande drew his scimitars out into a guard stance while scanning the nearby trees for the originator of the tracks. "Who's out there?" commanded Tachande as he eyed the woods. His eyes narrowed as he heard movement from the within the woods," show yourself," he commanded. From within the woods a man emerged brandishing a wicked spear. Hair set back into a ponytail, revealing a crescent moon tattoed on his forehead, the man looked to be as much wild as the woods he emerged from. Looking at the wild warrior, Tachande shifted to face his would be opponent. Eyeing the katana on the man's back and the wicked canines in his mouth, Tachande growled to the man," who are you, wolfboy?" The man grinned, and flashed his wicked canines. Sprinting forward the man cleared the distance between Tachande and lashed out with his spear. Tachande grunted as the spear smacked against his forehead, rolling with the blow his scimitars lashed out towards the man. Yet the man bashed them easily aside, bringing his spear up into Tachande's gut. Grunting with the pain Tachande smacked the spear butt aside and slashed towards the man, yet failing to hit the man the man gingerly fell back and scoffed at Tachande. "What is your name warrior, for you have some skill." Tachande looked at the man," my name is Tachande." Guarding himself against further attacks, Tachande bowed to the warrior," and what is your warrior, for I have not fought many with your skill at the spear." The man looked to Tachande," my name is Dante Delacroix." Tachande bowed his head," Takhisis has destiny between us." Dante looked to Tachande," what makes you think your worthy of her and her armies?" Tachande looked at the man and grinned, bowing his head he prayed to the amulet on his chest and Dante became immolated in her power. Lifting him off the ground, Tachande willed Dante to his knees," because her powers are within me." Shrugging off the force Dante stood," then if you want to join her armies come and kneel before me." Acknowledging him, Tachande walked and kneeled before Dante. Dante's knee connected to Tachande's face as he kneeled, knocking the man down. Pulling a knife and placing it against Tachande's throat Dante growls," welcome to the Dragonarmies and if you ever use magick against me again I'll kill you. Pushing the knife away from his throat, Tachande stood up and tilted his head foreward in acknowledgement. Author: Tachande Date: Mon Jan 12 00:49:10 2009 Subject The Night before Tachande looked over at the barmaid as she left his room. Grinning, he stood up from his bed and reached for his clothes and armor. After strapping on the last of his armor, and securing his swords to his waist, he threw open the door and walked downstairs after the barmaid. Looking around the inn, Tachande noticed dozens of patrons and a rather peculiar kender residing in the inn. Spotting Dante, he walked over to his table and plopped down, and ordered himself a mug of Mead from the barmaid. Looking around the bar, Tachande listens as Dante starts telling him of what is to come. "After the dragon attacked, Valas departed and left us here. I say we head to Solace to find the Brotherhood of Scar." Brows furrowed, Tachande grabs the mug of mead off the tray of the barmaid and looked over to Dante," Brotherhood of the Scar? I haven't heard of such a group." Dante took another drink from his Dwarven Spirits and looked at Tachande," Well, they are a brotherhood of rather skilled warriors, and I think its best that we find them for they can join our side, rather than the Sols." Tachande tilted his mug back and drained what was left of the mead in the glass. "Then we shall go to Solace." "Solace?" Dante asked questionly," the brotherhood is in Neraka." Tachande chuckled and looked over to Dante," perhaps those spirits have gotten to you my friend, for you said the Brotherhood was in Solace." Dante smirked and tilted his head," perhaps they are, we shall go to Solace ourselves and send the Sivaks to Neraka." Tachande bowed his head and waved to the barmaid, ordering two pints of mead, and two pints of Dwarf Spirits," alright, until then we drink." Dante waved to another barmaid and ordered two shots of Spirits to be brought to the table," aye, sounds good." Handing one shot to Tachande, Dante raised his glass into the air," to Takhesesiss." Tilting his head back, Tachande downed his shot with a gasp," damn thats good." Walking towards the duo, the barmaid set down Tachande's order of 4 pints of mead and spirits. About that time Croaker, Lord of Palanthas walked in the inn, drawn by a set of roudy voices. Looking about the inn, he spotted two soldiers sitting at a table, mugs and shotglasses littering the table and floor. Leaning over to Dante, Tachande slides him two pints of Spirits and Mead saying," drink hearty, were in for a wild night." Nodding in consent, Dante tilts back one pint of Spirits and downs them with obvious pain. Looking around the inn, Tachande eyes the growing crowd of Patrons surrounding his table. Leaning back, Tachande grabbed his pints of mead and spirits and jumped atop their table. Tilting the pints back, his devours both pints in a rather sprayic display. Roaring at the patrons, Tachande throws his mugs into the growing crowd of patrons as Dante follows suit with his, now empty, mug of mead. Looking at the two drunken soldiers, Croaker walks hurriedly to the door to summon the night watch. Before he reached the door, a rather peculiar kender stepped infront of the man," my dear, it seems you dropped this," the kender says holding up his money pouch. Croaker's face voids of color," you," he stammers as he recognizes the kender. Now running to the door, Croaker screamed out into the streets," GUARDS, TO THE INN!" Watching the man walk towards the door, Tachande tried to jump off of the table to land on top of him, yet in his stupor only ended up landing in a heap on the floor. Standing up, Dante wearily grabs his katana from the table and drunkenly staggers over towards the staircase. Picking himself up off the floor, Tachande staggers to his feet and groggily pulls his scimitars from there sheaths. Upon hearing blades being drawn, the inn erupted in chaos as patrons roared into a massive fight. Striking several patrons down, Tachande doesn't hear the arrival of the guards. Dante, however, looks out from the stair case and giggles stupidly as a dozen guards file into the inn, swords drawn. Finally realizing theres other armed men in the brawl, Tachande looks over his shoulder and roars to Dante to help him. Laughing in a stupor Dante shakes his head and falls down onto the stairs laughing. Grunting with the impact of a knife against his armor, Tachande cuts down a guard in front of him and quickly dashes back towards Dante. Laying one hand down, he reaches out and clasps Dante on the shoulder, filling him with a sobering energy. Now, the inn is erupted in a full blown War, yet hiding unbeknownst to most under a table, is the same kender, taking mug after mug off the top of the table hes' hiding under. Watching as patrons are bashing patrons, and guards fighting the soldiers, the kender watched as Croaker charged towards the door of the inn. He chuckles as one of the soldiers launch a well aimed mug at the fleeing Croaker, sending the poor man out into street, out cold. Hearing the commotion from downstairs, the two sivaks accompanying the duo rush downstairs into the melee. Striking several more patrons and guards down, Dante shouts out to Tachande that they need to get the hell out of here. Tachande nods yet beheads a patron that had the misfortune of being in front of him. Picking up the headless corpse, he threw it through a cask of Dwarven Spirits and lit the corpse and pool of alcohol with a lantern hanging off the wall. Roaring as the blaze catches the rest of the inn, Tachande exclaims excitedly to the bar," I have made fire," before dashing over to Dante as they flee from the blazing inn. Jumping over corpses of guards and patrons, Dante and the group charge down the street and through the main gates before cries of fire are picked up from nearby homes. Leaning over to Dante, Tachande grins and lays his arm across his shoulders," now that was fun," before starting up an old Nordmaarian drinking song. Yet unbeknownst to them, the same kender from the inn was following the group out of intrigue. Author: Tachande Date: Thu Jan 15 01:38:23 2009 Subject Turn In The Tide Tachande awoke with a start, his vision playing out in front of his eyes. The gallop of horses, sounds of battle, and a decent into darkness. He sat up shaken, pondering what his vision could entail. Standing to shake off the feeling, he scanned the perimeter of the encapment. Both sivaks sharpening ther wicked blades next to the fire, wearily eyeing the ground at the edge of the encampment. Faint whisps of his vision swam across his eyes, leaving him disoriented. Yet wandering over to the edge of the camp, he discovered a bloodied blade. Kneeling over in haste, he layed his hand over the blade, feeling a wisp of the life that was taken. No mistaking the insignia on the blade, he knew something happened to Dante. Looking over to the Sivaks, he orders them to stand guard, leaving one at the camp, the other accompanies Tachande, both with blades drawn, towards the edge of the cliff, overlooking the sea. Kneeling down cautiously, Tachande examined the dirt, playing out the battle from the signs. Mixtures of his vision and imagination click, Dante was attacked. Indicated by the horse tracks, by mounted men. Yet only one corpse mark scarred the soil. Tachande scanned the ledge looking for a corpse at the base of the cliff, yet all he saw were the waves crashing against the cliff wall. Standing back up, Tachande and the sivak return back to camp, detailing what they found to the other sivak. Sitting at the edge of the camp, eyes dull, lost in prayer, Tachande consented to the will of his Queen and of Dante's last orders. Standing up, Tachande told the two sivaks to return to Neraka will word of Dante's death, and of his following of Dante's order. Packing up camp, both sivaks nod and head take flight from the cliff, heading toward Neraka bearing Tachande's report. Looking down, he sees a boat slowly coming in to dock at a harbor not too far off. Deciding it the right course, Tachande set off to the harbor, to barter passage to Solace. To find the Brotherhood. Author: Tachande Date: Sat Jan 24 22:26:02 2009 Subject Lessons of the Sword (Part 1) Tachande looked around at the clearing. A copse of trees in a rough circle, what was strange was its proximity to the Coast. Shrugging, he cast it off as a memory of his homeland. Be it known, he was bored. Dante had went to scout and he was, once again, left to guard their, what, fire? Casting off his anxiety, judging it to be a lack in battle, Tachande stood up and drew his twin scimitars. Flipping one in his hand, he admired the craftsmanship of the blade and hilt. The dwarf he commisioned them from did a remarkable job. Onyx gem inlaid between two animals, A wolf and a dragon. Blessing be given to Takhisis for the souls that these twin swords have taken. He soon grew bored looking at his blades and decided to exercise. Standing in the center of the trees, he held his blades out in front. Dominant hand following the submissive, he went through the routine he learned so long ago. Dominant hand arcing down, submissive following a few seconds behind, each arcing down and gliding up. His twin swords danced throughout the clearing. Reversing the movements of his blades, he spread his arms wide, yet raising each into the air shoulder level. Both blades sliced together, closing the V, easily a decapitating move should he of been fighting an enemy. Looking down from one tree, Dante watched Tachande's training with a teacher's eyes. He followed the twin blade's movement as they sliced through the air. Continuing his exercise, Tachande swung around with both blades and halted. Swinging both blades around to his left and right, he closed the move by sheathing both blades. Crouching down he sat on the floor, looking out around the clearing, waiting on Dante's return. Author: Tachande Date: Sun Jan 25 08:04:08 2009 Subject Lessons of the Sword (Part 2) Dante looked down at the now resting warrior. Granted the movements he saw were good, he knew there were moves that Tachande needed to learn. Grinning to himself, Dante chuckled as he leaped off the branch," time to teach this pup some new tricks." Tachande jumped as Dante landed behind me," you scared the hell out of me," he curses as he stands up, angrily looking at Dante. Dante grinned and leaned back against one of the trees lining the clearing," I saw your exercises, your pretty good for a pup, but it time for some real lessons." Tachande bowed his head and drew both of his scimitars. Dante stood away from the tree and drew his own blade," there are some problems with your form I noticed," he states as he pierces Tachande's guard suddenly. Tachande dashed quickly away from Dante's blade, looking at Dante in suprise, Dante states," your footing was good, yet the angle of your blades leaves room for a low strike." Tachande grimaced, being rather brash with criticism," then how would you like it to be?" Dante held his sword up high, arcing over his head," this is the Guard of the Hawk, should you have one sword out use this, it allows for a high and low guard, like so," he says as he slashes down with the sword. Tachande sheathed one scimitar and held his sword out in imitation. Wielding the blade awkwardly he slashed down with his own blade, yet his came down at an awkward angle. Dante grunted at the greeness of this man's lone swordsmanship. Smacking his sword against Tachande's side he yells," do it again!" For several minutes, Tachande went over dozens of sword strokes and guards per Dante's tutilage. Though he caught on quick, he felt many of Dante's stinging blows. The sun slowly rose over the sea, and Tachande was exhausted, his body ached from the blows, and his muscles felt dull from use. Yet Dante demanded more. Perfection, absolute perfection It was hours later that Dante felt satisfied with Tachande's progression," rest for now young one, yet we will continue this over our journey." Tachande easily accepted the end of the session. He hadn't felt that worked out since his youth. Yet, later on he would learn to appreciate those skills learned that day. Yet that is a story for a later tale. Author: Tachande Date: Sun Feb 1 09:56:11 2009 Subject Dreams of a Nord Tachande crossed the great river. The mud clinking to the ragged clothes gripping his frame. Thoughts of helplessness flooded his youthful mind. How would he make it alone now? How could he? Terrors chased him throughout the jungle, fierce calls, wizzing arrows. Always running, always fleeing. He looked about for a weapon of some sort, yet all he could manage to forage was a makeshift wooden spear. Furiously sharpening the tip with a rock, he stood and ran off, deeper into the jungle. The slavers chasing him quickly grew frustrated. Their roars could be heard throughout any part of the Jungle. Fierce Hobgoblin men with nets tore through the jungle searching for the boy. Yet Tachande tried to stay ahead of their grasping talons. The sun had just fallen when they caught up to him. Cornering him between two massive jungle trees, they threw their nets and caught the filthy, half wild boy. "Time to come with us boy," chuckled the lead Hobgoblin. Towing the boy away, the rest of the group fell around their catch, beginning their long trek back to the work camps. Tachande's eyes shot open, sitting up, he looked over to the sleeping forms of Dante and Mephiston. Bowing his head, he prayed. Slowly he stood, looking out amongst the camp, he stayed awake. Contemplating the dreams return. Author: Tachande Date: Sat Feb 7 00:47:41 2009 Subject Back to Civilization Tachande laughed as Mephiston stoked the fire after a particularly vicious loss at the dice. The small mound of gold would suit him well whenever he needed to use it. Yet, there was a ill sense in the air. It had been many days since the ordeal with the apparition, and the feeling never ceased. Yet, shrugging it off, he stretched his stiff muscles and chuckled as Mephiston sat back down. Ready for another round my friend," Tachande said with a sly grin on his smug face. The minotaur tipped his horned head," Aye, I need to win some of that money I lost to you." Just before the two soldiers continued their game, Dante dashed into the clearing," Time to go." Tachande stood up and began to walk over to Dante before he cut him off," We're going back to Neraka, so pack up, and lets go boys, we've got alot of ground to cover." Tachande found his face contorting into a devilish grin, the feeling in the air had changed. A new adventure was about to begin. Author: Tachande Date: Sun Feb 8 10:06:35 2009 Subject Meeting In Neraka Tachande eyed the dark alleys as he followed alongside Dante and Mephiston. The darkness of the urban environment never truly suited him. Being born in the jungles of Nordmaar left that impression on him. His hand slowly enclosed the hilt of his scimitar, on guard at all times. Looking out, he followed Dante and Mephiston into an alley, and drew to a halt at Dante's bidding. Urging them both to turn around, Dante proceeded to unfasten the lokc, and disarm the trap laid on the door to the abode. "Tachande, go and grab a torch from the street." Tachande nods to Dante and walks out into the street, grabbing a torch from one of the posts, returning the torch to Dante, they walk into Dante's home. Looking about, Dante lights several candles and orders Tachande to light the rest. Tachande looks about at the ragged abode, chuckling, he mutters to himself," fitting, for a wolfboy." Dante had returned in time to hear Tachande's quip towards him. After landing a vicious punch to Tachande, he warns him not to call him a Wolfboy again. Tachande chuckles and bows his head to Dante. Looking around the place, Mephiston's stomach grumbles, filling the room with a dull roar. Dante mutters to himself and sits down by the fireplace," food will be brought shortly." Mephiston grins at the mention of food, yet quickly catches on to a much darker undertone," why have we come to Neraka?" Looking into the fireplace, Dante tells the group of his summons by Takhisis. Leaning against the fireplace, Tachande bows his head and listens to Mephiston talking to Dante. After their conversation, Tachande heard a knock at the door and walked over to the door and grabbed the food from the servant waiting. Laying the food out on a table for the group, he was rewarded by a round of drinks from Mephiston. After downing his shot, Tachande sat heavily into a chair, looking about the room he notices a dark shade cross Dante's face," what's wrong milord?" Dante looks back to the feasting Mephiston, then looks back to Tachande," I don't want either of you drinking until I get back." Tachande grins as Mephiston lets out a long, bellowing, sigh. Looking at the hulking minotaur, Tachande grins," don't worry my friend, tommorrow I will take you to the barracks and train you until Dante's return." Tachande nods and leans his head back in the chair, yet sits up again as Dante warns them never to return to Neraka without him. Judging by his tone, Tachande gauges that its a serious warning. After acknowledging the warning from Dante, Tachande leans his head back into the chair and drifts off, wearily, into sleep. Author: Tachande Date: Tue Feb 10 05:53:15 2009 Subject Dreams of a Nord (2) The Hobgoblin slaver whipped Tachande unmercifully. The iron razors in the end of the whip tore deep gouges into the flesh of his back. The chittering of Goblinspeech drifted up from the dark, dank tunnels below. Tachande let out a gasp as the pain reached his peak, yet the young boy held on to the shreds of his consciousness. After the vicious beating from the slaver, the group of Nordmaarians were led into the tunnels, each cuffed to the next in a long chain gang. Men, women, and children all enslaved, all bound to the same cruel fate. Tachande stood near the end of the long chain. The remnants of his clothes hung in tatters off of his emaciated frame. Each step was a descent into madness. Some slaves who couldn't handle it fell to the ground screaming. Begging for death. The Goblins and Hobgoblins held little love for humans, yet they found their meat pleasing. Those who fell to the side where killed and butchered as food for the tribe. All around him, the screams of slaves, the slaps of whips, and the chittering of the goblins threatened to overwhelm him. Yet this was the hand that the world gave him. Long years passed in those tunnels. Tachande grew from the small, emaciated, boy, to a man of cruel design. His body lean, muscular, from the long years in the mines. He had survived where others had failed. He had watched those who were captured and brought with him, suffer and die at the hands of the goblins. No rescue, not sanctuary, only the cruel treatment of the goblin masters. No rescue, no sanctuary, only the cruel treatment of the goblin masters. The long years had left their scars on his body, however. His once black hair turned to silver from the lack of sunlight, and the constant exposure to gases and dust from the ores and such he had to mine for the goblin's forges. His back and arms were a patchwork of scars left from the whips of the masters, who felt pleasure in trying to break the spirit of the small boy they brought into their tunnels. Yet before them now was a man who thrived in the hardship. Who surpassed their cruelest tortures. Tachande had finished piling the ore into the bucket at his feet when he heard a rucus back at the opening of one tunnel. The new bach of slaves were proving to be too much for the dwindling goblins. Long civil wars had raked through their ranks, dwindling them to a sparce two hundred. In their over eagerness for trade, they slammed their mines with more and more human and humanoid race. Looking away from the entrance of the mines, Tachande hefted the loaded bucket onto his shoulder and carried it off to the carts. He was so used to the daily routine that it became an almost robotic system. Yet something had changed in him recently. Visions of a beautiful woman with black hair, who wore armor and a sword, guiding him, whispering to him in the night. At first, he had discarded the dreams, throwing them out as just a reaction to the exposure, yet each time the dreams came back, more intense. After each night, he found his body healed a little more. The old scars fading. It wasn't until one night, when the woman finally spoke to him," Long you have suffered under the cruel yoke of these creatures. Mining their ore, being nothing more than a cart horse. Yet I can offer you more." In his dream, Tachande was made entirely whole, outfitted in a fine suit of black scalemail. Looking at this woman, his hands slid over the fine armor, feeling whole, complete. The woman smiled, her face radiating a beauty that stole Tachande's heart, yet soothing to his soul. She explained to the man that should she free him, he would serve her, and strike out. Tasting the chance of freedom for the first time, Tachande did not hesitate to accept her offer. "Then rise, Tachande, and be my Paladin, serve me, and you shall be rewarded, fail me, and your life will be less than that of a slave." Tachande's vision switched back to the mines, to the screams, and chittering. Looking around, he could hear her voice guiding his actions. He felt as if a hand carressed his as he lifted a pick axe. Strength flowed through his body as he turned a corner and spotted a Hobgoblin overseer. With his back to Tachande, the Hobgoblin never stood a chance. Wrenching the pick axe from the mass of crushed skull, Tachande crept throughout the tunnels. Striking down goblin-kin, and freeing slaves who crossed his path. Leading the revolt, Tachande followed the signs of the tunnel, easily reading the crude symbols of the goblins. Speaking in Goblin tongue, Tachande had managed to throw off several patrols. Tachande and the freed slaves rounded the corner to the suprise of a rather nasty Hobgoblin Lord. Yet, even as he charged, his vision began to fade, the sounds of the battle faded, and the memory of his escape blurred. Author: Tachande Date: Wed Feb 11 18:55:48 2009 Subject Awaiting Tachande awoke with a start. Beads of sweat poured down his ashen face. Sitting up, he wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. Swiping his hair back over, behind his head, he started to swing his legs over the bed when Dante walked into the barra cks. Looking up at his commander, he noticed an aggrivated look on his features. Sitting on the edge of the cot, Dante look perplexed by Tachande's appearance. "Memories of the past?" Tachande was slow to bow his head," aye, when I was a child, I was captured by goblin slavers and forced to live in their mines till I reached adulthood, and then our Queen found me." Dante tilted his head forward in acknowledgment," hard life for any to be had," pulling a chair up in front of Tachande, he sat in front of the ashen paladin. "I recieved a message from Lord Verminaard, I am to depart for Pax Tharkas this afternoon, I shall return in two moons time. Until I return, I want you and Mephiston to train properly as soldiers." Tachande managed to bow his head in acknowledgment before Dante stood and walked out of the barracks. Tachande stood and walked over to his chest and grabbed his equipment from inside. Laying them out, he began to garb himself, donning his armor and weapons, he closed the chest at the foot of the cot, and departed the room in search of Mephiston. Walking through the corridors of the Barracks, Tachande passed many soldiers and messengers, looking around he spotted his minotaur friend in the messhall. Passing through the archway, Tachande sat in front of Mephiston. Looking at the Red Minotaur, Tachande cleared his throat to get his attention. One he did, Tachande began to tell Mephiston of Dante's departure. "Our commander has recieved word from Lord Verminaard to depart for Pax Tharkas today. He's told me to relay that he shall return in two moons time, till then, we are ordered to train like real soldiers." Mephiston looked up from his food and looked at Tachande," so what shall we do?" Tachande grabbed a plate of food and some drink from a passing servant and set it down in front of him," right now we eat, afterwards we report to the training grounds." Mephiston agreed and the both of them began to eat their morning meal. Author: Tachande Date: Fri Feb 13 23:54:04 2009 Subject Soldiers Tachande stood up from the table, looking over to the Mephiston, he made a mental note of how the minotaur ate enough food to feed three humans. Grinning, he walked over to he minotaur," Time to work off some of that feast my friend." Mephiston quickly finished stuffing his last few bites in his mouth, stood up and nodded, trying to quickly chew his food. Tachande chuckled at the site of the minotaur's face stuffed with food," come on, let's go find the training yard." Walking out of the messhall, the duo turn the corner and run into a grizzled man. Tachande collides with the man, cursing. Standing back the man bursts into a tirade," You insolent whelp, whats where the hell your walking. Better yet," with a grin on his face the man motions for them to follow. Mephiston tipped his head in Tachande's direction, seeking confirmation. Tachande curses under his breath when he catches sight of the man's Commander rank. Tachande turned to Mephiston, he tipped his head in confirmation and followed the Commander. Mephiston sighed and fell in behind Tachande. Commander Toc strides arrogently through the Red Barracks and leads Tachande and Mephiston to a large training yard. "Alright you Maggots. Ive been asked by Dante to see to your training." Tachande salutes the Commander," Yes, sir." Looking over to Mephiston he nudges him to do the same. Mephiston flinches at Tachandes nudge, "Ahh, Yes, Sir." and salutes when the commanders gaze continues to drill into him unimpressed. Commander Toc shakes his head and eyes the two. "Your equipment could use some work. Rusty equipment is never good." He steps back and looks around. "Alright. You, Tachande i presume. Come at me." Tachande bows his head and draws his twin scimitars, taking to paces towards the Commander, he slashes suddenly at the unarmed Commander. Commander Toc smirks as the scimtar slices a line across his breastplate but in a quick motion, grabs Tachandes arm and twists it, disarming him and then slamming him onto the ground. Tachande grunts as his mass is slammed against the ground and his sword sent flying. Clamoring back to his feet, he slashes at the Commander with the scimitar in his left hand. Toc jumps back from the slash and then jumps forward, grabbing Tachandes left wrist and then kneeing him hard in the gut. With what seems like little effort, he spins and throws Tachande to the ground again, this time at Mephistons feet. Tor smirks and shakes his head. "Pathetic. Your turn, cow." Mephiston lip curls in anger, he draws his axe and advances upon the commander. Tachande gathered himself up and retrieved his scimitars, watching as the hulking minotaur advanced on the Commander. Mephiston swung at the Commander. Commander Toc rolled to his right and came to his feet, sword in hand. "Gotta be faster than that, Maggot. Mephiston recovered from his failed attack and tries again this time feigning an attack to Toc's head, then twisting and swinging his axe toward his belly. Toc easily steps away from the attack and brings the flat of his blade down on the Minotaur's head then chuckles as he steps away. Commander Toc sheathed his sword and shook his head. "Alright you Maggots, spar against each other. Lets see whos better." Mephiston recovered from his failed attack and turned to Tachande. Tachande bowed his head," aye sir." Drawing his blades, he faces Mephiston. Watching the minotaur's movements, he slashes one scimitar coming in from the left, the other from below. Mephiston waited for Tachande's blade to come down on him, and lifts his axe to parry one scimitar, and uses his shield to block the other blade. Mephiston pushes his assailant back and swings his axe at Tachande's shoulder. Tachande tries to duck under Mephiston's axe, yet grunts as the minotaur's massive axe cleaves a dent into the scalemail at his shoulder, cracking the collarbone of his left arm. Tachande gasps in pain at the *snap* of the bone, cursing under his breath, between clenched teeth, the word cow glides on the air. Dropping the blade at his feet, his right arm lashes out at Mephiston. Mephiston snarls as he hears the insult, and begins to rage deflecting Tachandes sword left and right before finishing him with a catastrophic blow to his head, tearing life from the unprepared Sergeant. Toc curses and picks up a shield before darting toward Mephiston before he could futher harm Tachande. Toc swings the shield hard at the back of the Minotaurs left knee, making it buckle and him start to fall. Toc spins across Mephistons back and swings the shield with all his might at the Minotaurs face as he falls to the ground and lands a loud blow, knocking him back onto his back. Cursing he drops the shield and looks at Tachande. Toc sighs and calls for some healers who rush out and to Tachande's side. "Take this one to a cell. He can stay there for while." Commander Toc says snorting, before turning and leaving the field. Author: Tachande Date: Sun Mar 1 08:22:09 2009 Subject Vision (1) Mephiston's axe smashes against Tachande's skull. Knocking the man flat, possibly dead. Commander Toc stops Mephiston, before the enraged minotaur can do more damage to Tachande, and calls for the healers to aide Tachande. After that, Tachande had no recollection of life. Unbeknownst to him, he had been laying in the healer's complex for more than a week now. Yet within the confines of the dream realm, a Goddess came to him. Takhisis peered into the mind of her servant Tachande, for she was amused at the actions between the man and the Minotaur. Scenes of Chaos and death swirled within his healing mind. Yet, she decided, she would grant him a gift so few had recieved. Tachande jolted up, pulse racing, his eyes quickly discerning the black mist swirling around him. Fear made him reach for the scimitars at his waste. Yet his hands grasped nothing but air. His pulse pounded in his ears, eyes darting into the shadows, as the realization of some kind of hell swam across his mind. Yet his panic did not last long, for no sooner did he discover his place a voice was heard behind him. Takhisis looked at the panicked man. Eyeing the scalemail armor he wore, the silver hair, and the lavender eyes. So you are my servant? The one I rescued so long ago?" Tachande turned around and spotted his Goddess and immediately fell to a knee, with a firm grip on himself, he quelled the panic within him. "Yes your Majesty, yet I was unaware of the do attention you bestow upon me. Yet how did I get here?" Ushering the man to stand, Takhisis willed the scene to change from the misty oblivion to a bare stone room with an ornate stone pool at the center. Moving beside the stone pool, Takhisis slid one slender hand into the cool water. Looking back to Tachande, she smirked at his uneasiness in the change of scene. Tachande chastized himself for his skittishness with his Goddess, cursing himself for a coward, he drew himself up and walked near to the pool at the center of the room. His eyes scanned the basic stone room, yet soon his gaze fell upon the stone pool at the center. Silver runes were carves into the rim of it, and yet looking into the pool, he witnessed the passages of time. Yet one scene stayed. Noticing Tachande's gaze land on the pool, Takhisis withdrew her hand and stood beside her paladin. " Look within my paladin, and see what may or may not come to pass." Author: Tachande Date: Sun Mar 1 19:05:19 2009 Subject Vision (2) The Red Dragon breathed its deadly fire upon the archer's lining the ridge. The din of battle roared throughout the valley. Wheeling mid-air, the dragon spread it's wings and quickly ascended into the sky. Soldiers poured into the valley, the insignias of the Red Dragonarmy bright upon their breast. Footmen, goblins, minotaur, and ogres, all had come to test their mettle in the Invasion. Many months it had took to assemble such a force. Many more for the march for the invasion. Yet now it was time, time enought to prove that they were capable of War. Dante looked across the battlefield before the start of the battle. Troops under his banner remained calm, yet the buzz of the energy, the bloodlust, was potent in the air. He watched on in pleasure as the massive minotaurs assembled into ranks, led by his comrade, Mephiston. Long had their journey been in the Minotaur Isles. Some scars still visible on both of the warrior's hides. Surveying the rest of the battlefield, Dante remarked at the vast numbers of goblinkin and ogrekin readying for battle. Dante was impressed at the work Tachande had done gathering the goblins and ogres. Many a warband had swelled his legions. Yet more would be needed, Takhisis willing, should their invasion prove successful. For the Red Dragons continued to issue their outrage at the Dragonslayers of Nordmaar. Even greater than their outrage, is their pledge to join the Dragonarmies ranks should the Dragonslayers be exterminated. "Yet all these concerns and talks of the future would mean little if a warrior did not survive the battle," Dante thought to himself. Looking back out across the field, he summed up the Nordmaarian forces. Scanning the Field, Dante regarded the Nordmaarian tribesmen among the ranks defending the road to North Keep. Thoughts drifted back to him of his first meeting with the tribesmen, of their oath. Grunting in discuss, Dante sided with himself that they were cowards, unfight for glorious victory. Dante sent for a runner to speed word to the Red Dragon of the Nordmaarian Dragonslayers impending doom, for they too were among the forces arrayed against them, eager to stem the dark tide from their capital of North Keep. It would be known among the Reds, that the Red Dragonarmies convictions were not misplaced, that they were worthy of the Reds joining of their ranks. the beginning of Nordmaar's end. Walking between the ranks of the army, surrounded by his mighty wolfpack, he planted himself firmly withing the center, front ranks of the massive force. Looking to the men and women all around, a wolfish grin spread across his face, the bloodthirsty sen se of the Wolf rising. Drawing his sword, Dante roared the order, sending arrows of death cascading towards the Nordmaarian ranks. Yet Dante quickly dispensed with the archery, deeming it dishonorable. Looking into the bloodthirsty faces of his comrades in arms, he set the command to charge. Men, Goblin, Minotaur, and Ogre poured forth towards the awaiting Nordmaarian forces. Yet among those arrayed against them, the Nordmaarian Tribesmen charged forward themselves, at the horn's sounding. The gap closing with the Red Dragonarmies forces. Roars of challenges in all tongues arrayed, blasted through the air, as the forces drew nearer to one another. Yet, Dante called a halt some ten feet from Nordmaarian tribesmen. Dante let out a grunt of laughter as Tachande walked forward from the Tribesmen ranks, quickly followed by the Tribesmen's Chief, "Didn't think I'd miss out on this kind of action did you," Tachande said with an equal wolfish grin spreading across h is face. Arraying his Nordmaarian forces at the head of the Dragonarmy, Tachande and Dante roared as the Dragonarmy resumed its charge towards the, now depleted, Nordmaarian forces. Takhisis eyes drifted from the pool to Tachande. Watching as the man's hands gripped the lid of the pool with white knuckles, and the wolfish grin spreading across his face as his forces joined with Dante's. Willing the pool away, Takhisis watched as Tachande stood and quickly pondered all that he saw. Deeming it a fitting end, Takhisis chuckled and faded with the the room, the last whisps of her voice stuck in Tachande's mind. " Be wary, my paladin, for these events may or may not come to pass." Tachande awoke with searing pain, once again in the mortal realm. Mind awash with his vision. Sitting up, he realized the broken collarbone was quickly mending, as well as the wound to his skull from the minotaur's axe. Bowing his head, he prayed to his Queen, and quickly fell back asleep, for the healing wasn't over. Author: Tachande Date: Tue Mar 3 00:02:42 2009 Subject Awakening Tachande's eyes crept open, clutching the back of his head, he sighed. Relieved that the wound to his skull was healed, he tested his shoulder. Wincing at the slight pain, he felt satisfied that it was mended. Sitting up in the cot, he examined the room he was in. Many cots lined the walls of the room. Rather empty, Tachande cast it off and swung himself to the edge of the cot. Looking around, he saw his armor and scimitars in a open chest aganst the wall. Taking his time, he adorned himself and finished buckling his swordbelts to his waist, a sudden urge to walk struck him. Satisfied that everthing was in order, he quickly left the room and found himself walking down the corridors leading to the barracks. Looking around, he stopped an aide to question him about the fate of his friend, Mephiston. The aide told him that Mephiston was confined to the brigg untill his commanding officer released him. Sighing, Tachande released the aide and continued on his walk through the barracks. Mephiston's freedom would come another day, for Tachande knew he couldn't do a damn thing to help his friend. Thoughts drifting on the vision he had had while unconsious, Tachande did not realize that he had left the barracks of the Dragonarmy and was, in fact, closing in on Neraka's gate. A guard tried to halt Tachande's departure, yet seeing the insignia on his breast, went back to the gate house muttering. Continuing on his trek down the road, Tachande's thoughts drifted away and he looked around at his surroundings. Looking around, he spied a flash of black cross the corner of his vision. Hands drifting down to his scimitars, Tachande turned about, to discover a sleek black wolf eyeing him. Upon further look at the wolf, Tachande grimaced as he saw that the wolf held something in its maw. Muttering to himself about being spooked by a wolf, Tachande turned back around and started walking again, when the recognition struck him. It was Dante's Wolf. Wheeling back around, Tachande walked towards the wolf, bowing his head in respect to the creature. Scanning the wolf, he noticed no injuries to it, yet focused in on the item in it's mouth. Reaching down, he grabbed the crown as the wolf released it. Flipping the crown over, Tachande recognized it as the one Dante had found in Nordmaar. Looking at it closely, he swore loudly. Opening a fold in his cloak, he placed the bloodied crown in it and looked to the wolf. "What has happened to your master?" he asked the wolf. As if understanding, the wolf quickly launched into a run. Quickly following the Wolf, Tachande's mind blazed at what could of happened. Following the wolf for what seemed like hours, Tachande stumbled to a halt by the panting wolf. Looking past the wolf, he spied walls of stone and smoke from behind them. Slowly drawing one scimitar, Tachande crept forward towards the walls. Realizing that there wasn't anyone around he sheathed the blade and dashed over the low wall. Landing with minimal sound, Tachande crept along the side of one of the buildings. Dashing behind a small shack, Tachande watched as a patrol of heavily armed men walked past. Comforted that they had left, Tachande crept along the wall. Several buildings covered the area surrounding the wall of the mountain. Spying the entrance to one solitary mine entrance, Tachande muttered a prayer to Takhisis and drew two daggers at his hip. Dashing across the street, he slid along the wall of another building until he was ten feet from the mine entrance. He came to a halt suddenly as he heard voices of two guards. He watched in disgust as two men stood chatting merily among each other. Freely drinking from a skin of some kind of alcohol. Pinching the blades of the daggers in both hands, Tachande lunged from the wall, dashing towards the two half drunken men. One guard let out shout as he saw the man dashing towards him, drawing his blade to fend off the man, he did not see the flash of steel as the dagger embedded itself between his ribs, blade piercing his heart. The other guard turned to flee when he saw his friend fall, yet another dagger flashed out, striking the man in the side, piercing his lung. Crouching over the dying man, Tachande drew another dagger and placed it against the dying man's throat, "I will ease your passing, if you tell me where he is," he hisses. The man grunts in pain, breath rattling in his chest the man manages to ask, " Who the hell are you?" Tachande gave the man his reply by jabbing the tip of the blade into the man's neck," Where is the man with the crescent moon tattooed on his forhead?" The guard's eyes flash open at the mention of the tattoo," That one," he exclaims, " hes' in their with the rest of the slaves." Satisfied by the answer, Tachande slid the dagger across the man's throat, jerking the head back so the blood spews across the ground, cleanly slicing through the juggular vein and other tissue. Grabbing the blades from the two men, Tachande wiped the blood off on one of the corpses. Sheathing the daggers, he grabbed the bodies of the men and hauled them into a shack near the entrance of the mine. Sealing the door to the shack, Tachande drew his scimitars and descended into the mines, searching for Dante. Author: Tachande Date: Thu Mar 5 00:18:15 2009 Subject Wolves Rising " Tachande, take the slaves and get them armed for combat," Dante orders, calling a huge Ergothian and Highlander over. " What of yourself, Dante?" Tachande asks, looking back at the assembled slaves. Dante grins and starts walking out of the room, " I have unfinished business to take care of" he says, as he and the Ergothian and Highlander leave the room. Grinning, Tachande looks over the slaves all looking back at him," Alright men, from here we make it to the armory, then," he looks back at the three dead guards," to Victory! Leading the amassed slaves proved to be a slight challenge, none the less, they arrived at the tunnel entrance to the massive armory. Creeping close to the edge of the entrance, Tachande peered into the tunnel. At the end stood ten guards, blades and axe at the ready. Each one wore a look of grim determination, having become aware of the growing noise of the slaves. Standing in three ranks, the guard's formation would prove troublesome, or so Tachande thought. For among the slaves, one bear of a man walked through the slaves, pushing through those too slow to get out of his way. Coming up to Tachande, he looked down at him, " What is your will, milord?" Looking up at the man, Tachande found a slow grin spread across his face, " For each one of you here, My goddess will grant you power and glory if you but kneel to her." Lookin at the slaves carefully, Tachande saw acknowledgment flash in the eyes around him. Kneeling first, the man looked up to Tachande," What shall she have us do?" Grinning, Tachande closes his eyes and placed his hand on the huge man's head. Focusing in on the power of his goddess, he felt a stinging pain spread through his hand. Looking at his hand, black flame engulfed the hair of the man. Taken aback, Tachande released the man and looked on as tufts of hair burned away. He looked on as the flame seared a dark pattern across the man's face and nose. Twin snakes coiled like rope slithered across the man's face, sinking into his skin. Standing from shock, the man looked at Tachande, looking past him the man grabbed a torch from the wall and charged down the tunnel. Not being one to miss a fight, Tachande charged after the man, followed by a dozen or so slaves. The man charged directly into the swords and axes of the awaiting guards. Thrown off by the man's wild charge, the first three guards were knocked aside in the man's fury. Yet, for the men behind them, it gave them the ideal target. Swords and axes slashed out at the crazed man, scoring wound after debilitating wound. Yet before the crazed man fell, Tachande met the downed guards. Swords slashing out, two guards fell as they floundered to get up. Blood seeping from sliced necks. The third man, encumbered by his heavy armor, managed to stand and strike out at Tachande. Tachande swung one sword up to parry the falling blow, and slashed out with the other at the man's exposed arm pit. Blade sinking to the hilt, piercing the heart. Jerking the blade out, Tachande wheeled around as slaves flowed past him, dragging the rema ining guards down by sheer numbers. Looking around, Tachande wiped the blades of his swords off on the cloak of one of the fallen guards. Looking around at the gore strung tunnel, Tachande knelt beside the dying man who charged towards the guards. Head bowed in prayer, Tachande grasped the hand of the dying man. "Your soul with fight beside our Queen, you fought and died well, my friend." The light receded from the man's eyes. Standing, Tachande searched the corpses of the guard's until he found what he was looking for. Bringing the key to the armory up in front of him, Tachande let out a ragged laugh as he unlocked the door and ordered the slaves to arm themselves. It took almost an hour to arm themselves, yet once they were armed and ready, Tachande ordered them towards the mine entrance. Navigating the tunnels came easily to Tachande, having spent much of his young life underground. Yet once he and the slaves neared the entrance he called a halt. One slave looked over to Tachande," Why have we stopped?" Tachande looked at the man, "Listen," he hissed. From outside, all of the guards assembled. Creeping close to the entrance of the mine, Tachande peered out. His eyes scanned the mass of guards, judging their number to be around one hundred to one fifty, he walked back over to the slaves, whos numbers t hemselves ranged close to two hundred. Armed and faced with freedom, and glory in the name of a God, the slaves discounted the numbers of the guards and grew eager for battle. Admiring the spirits of the men, Tachande stood at the entrance, facing the force of the guards. Behind him, spanning the entire entrance to the wide mine, stood two hundred eager slaves, brimming for a fight and their freedom. From among the ranks of guards, a man in a flowing blue cape stood out in front of the ranks, wielding his sword high. Looking out at Tachande the man ordered that if the slaves did not relinquish their arms they will all die. He was the first to die. Tachande grinned as his dagger sunk deep into the man's throat, pinning the man's windpipe to the back of his spine. Falling to his knees, gasping for air, the man died in the throes of a very painful choking death. Seeing their leader fall, the guards charged towards the slaves. Roaring a challenge to the guards, Tachande spearheaded the charge of the slaves. Soon the mass of men clashed. Bodies thrown into the air, screams of dying, and please to gods known and unknown split the air. Tachande slashed out at one guard, blades gleaming red with blood, severing the man's sword arm at the elbow. Wheeling around, he slashed under his arm, plunging the tip of the blade throught the man's chest. Turning, he parried another blade as he surveyed the pitched battle. Slaves outnumbered the guards almost two to one, yet the slaves were ill armored, whereas the guard's wore chainmail and plate. Watching as the battle slowly turned in the guard's favor, Tachande let out a shout as he saw Dante and the Ergothian, accompa nied by the Highlander, appear on the rock ledge overlooking the pitched battle. Roaring his name, Tachande howled as Dante and the two men lept off the ledge, landing in the thickest of the battle. Rolling to his feet, Dante and the two men fought like madmen. Roaring a peon to Takhisis, Tachande fought on with a religious fervor. Soon he found fewer and fewer men to kill, until lastly he met up with Dante and the two men at the center. Nodding his head to his brother in arms, Tachande fought on, against the handful or so of remaining guards. Piercing one's skull with his sword, and beheading another. He lunged toward two at one, only to meet one's parrying blade. Grunting, he slashed away the blade and plunged his other sword deep into the man's gut. Steel flashing to his right, Tachande was too late to parry a blow aimed at his head. Yet steel rang against steel as Dante's blade parried the blow aimed at Tachande. Reversing the slash, Dante easily gutted the attacking man. Satisfied that the battle was nearing its end, Tachande stood next to Dante, gore covered and panting," We have won." Dante dipped his head to Tachande and turned to survey the remaing slaves. Seeing the streets and isles body strewn, screams of the dying tearing into the air. Yet looking past, both men counted thirteen left. Thirteen slaves remained, of the nearly two hundred men, only thirteen remained. Tachande leaned his head down and prayed to Takhisis. Opening his eyes, he watched in awe as Dante turned to the remaining slaves and roared in triumph, blade raised in salute to the dead. Author: Tachande Date: Sun Mar 8 06:35:22 2009 Subject Return of the Wolf Lord The men looked followed the two leaders in suprising Cadence. Most were ex adventurers or local warriors. Each men searched their own souls on the march back to Neraka. Thoughts of this new god they were presented with hung heavily in the air. Each man talked little to the man on his left or right. Each one looking inward. Could it be true? Had a god come to them through their two commanders? Each among them asked that question, yet never aloud. Looking around them, Tachande surveyed the quiet men. He could feel the stirrings of the goddess's eye steadily growing as he marched to Dante's right. She walks with us, Dante. The men seem to be embracing her with their very souls," he exclaims, an edge of satisfaction underlying each word. Dante bowed his head, yet kept walking. The next few hours past by without word. Yet the sense of a god's power hung heavy around everyone. Like the warm rays of the sun as you walk out from under the cover of shade. Something would come about this meeting. Tachande kept his gaze inward, focusing on his goddess's steadfast gaze on him and his group. So much so, that the sight of Neraka's gates suprised him. Yet soon, Dante and his force marched under Neraka's gates and into the Red Quarter. Ordering Tachande to attend to the men Dante left the group on his own errands. Tachande led the men towards the barracks, having them await his return as he entered a room to add them to the ranks. Striding inside, he detailed the events leading up to the return of Dante and himself leading the thirteen men. Impatiently, he waited as the aide scratched down the details and ran off to deliver the missive. Satisfied at the aides returned, Tachande looked over to another official at a desk to his left. He watched amused, as the man scratched down the names of the men in a roster list. Satisfied that the work here was done, Tachande walked out of the office and back to the men. Men, here you shall stay until I return. You shall train, and you shall learn more of your new god. Until my return, I expect no trouble from anyone of you. You may go." Tachande watched as the men looked around to each other and then turned and walked into the training grounds of the Red barracks. Letting out a massive sigh, Tachande stood and twisted, popping his back. Relaxing himself for a moment, he thought to himself of how his life has changed since the first moment of the slaver's mines. Reminding himself of his duties now, to himself, his commander, and his Queen, he chuckled and went off to his own place in the barracks. Later on, Tachande stepped away from his fellow combatant. Jabbing the man's torso with his fist. Ducking as the man tried to deliver a sharp right hook to his jaw. Throwing his bulk into a tackle, he knocked down his sparring partner and delivered a sharp jab at the sweet spot of the man's jaw, knocking the man out. Whiping the sand off of his himself, Tachande stood and reached down to pull the waking man up. Chuckling he hefted the man up, "You fight well, Bregga. The man, Bregga, looked at Tachande, at first, with a angry scowl, then soon grinned as he walked next to Tachande," the time in the mines gave me nothing but strength to gain." Nodding, Tachande bid Bregga farwell as he walked past the training yard walls and walked down the streets of Neraka, searching for Dante. Tachande spied Dante leaving an alley heading for the front gates of the city. Hurrying his pace, Tachande walked up to Dante," The men will get along fine in the barracks. I've set them up for training and proper armament for when their needed." Dante chuckled and tipped his head," Follow me." Following Dante, he thought of what to do next once they returned to the city. So engrossed with his thoughts, he paid no heed to the woods to his left or right, or him entering them. Finally picking up the faint scent of the woods, Tachande looked up and around at his surroundings. With a question on his lips, he began to ask where the hell they were, when Dante cut him off. Motioning forward, he could see a woman by a small fire. Author: Tachande Date: Sun Mar 8 09:08:22 2009 Subject Departure Tachande walked the streets of Neraka, counting down the alleys towards Dante's. Thinking back to his past visit, he stopped at one particular alley and headed into its darkness. Meanwhile, Dante looked around his abode, turning on his heels, he grabbed a key from his side and unlocked the door. Looking out at Tachande walking towards the door," Come in, and lock the door behind you." he states flatly. Once inside the two discussed matters of importance to the red army. Once such was the freeing of Mephiston from the Brig. Recounting the incident to Dante, Tachande stood as Dante made for their departure to the barracks. After a short walk, and an order, Mephiston was freed from the Brig and amongst them once again. Yet it was to be short lived. For Dante quickly ordered them to the War room. The orders were short and Complicated, exactly how Tachande liked it. Mass a force of Goblins to join the Red Dragonarmies, and relay the information to Dante on a regular basis. Mephiston's orders were as short and complicated as his, get the minotaurs of Mithas to join the Red Cause. God how Dante liked to hand out the good ones. Siding himself on the complexities of his mission, Tachande stood and saluted Dante with a crisp, s hort salute, and made his way to the Stables of the Dragonarmies. Looking at the horses in the stables, Tachande sided himself with a vicious beast of a warhorse. Black coat, redish eyes, its main was the color of a eclipsed night sky and its temperment matched the color. Known for biting its handlers, the horse was stabled apart from the others. "Perfect, a loner to match a loner," he thought to himself. Suprising the stable boys with his request, he got the horse, which strangely placated itself to his will, and departed for an undisclosed location. Author: Tachande Date: Fri Mar 13 23:14:43 2009 Subject Clan of Hect'grak Tachande knelt next to the bole of a mighty oak tree. Scanning the meeting that was taking place not ten feet from him. A group of goblins, maybe ten in total, stood in a wooded clearing, chittering in their language amongst themselves. Standing, Tachande fixed his sword belts and stepped into the clearing, suprising the goblins. Not impressed by the quick armament of themselves, Tachande drew his twin swords and looked at each goblin. "It's simple, " he states flatly to the bewildered goblins," fight me, and you will all die. Yet your lives are worth far more than a few moments of combat. So," he motions to sheath their blades," which shall it be?" Sighing inwardly, Tachande shook his head as the largest goblin shoved three smaller ones towards him. Each of the three goblins charged Tachande with reckless abandon. Easily dodging one slashing blade, Tachande brought one sword down, flat, against the base of the goblin's neck. Quickly knocking the goblin warrior out. One down already, the other two were hesitant to attack the man. Looking back to, now clear, Goblin leader, Tachande sheathed one of his blades," if you continue, I shall use only one blade." He looks at the other two goblins, summing up their courage. Not one to be proven false, he easily parried the incoming attack from an unknown goblin behind him. Whipping around he back handed the smaller goblin into a comatose state. Seeing two of their brothers fall to this unknown man, the other two goblin warriors sheathed their blades and stood back, looking between their leader and the man. "Enough with the games, Goblin," Tachande says as he sheaths his remaining blade. Looking at the goblin leader opposite him, Tachande sums him up to be roughly six feet in height with beady black eyes, and pale greenish yellow skin. The Goblin leader muttered something unintelligable as he too sheathed his blade," What do you want human?" "I want your fealty, swear your allegiance to me and my cause, and you will survive this day, otherwise, you and your men will die this day." The goblin leader looked incredulously at the strange human," You want me to swear fealty to you, simply because of your prowess with a blade." Smoothing back his greasy black hair, the Goblin leader stood firm in Tachande's presence. "It will not be that easy, human, to sway the Hect'grak clan. You must prove yourself to me and my warriors if you want us to follow you." Tachande looked at the Goblin Leader with a smug look upon his face," What must I do then, Goblin?" The Goblin leader scowled at the smugness of the human," you must kill a rival to me and my clan. They are a band of ogres by the name of Bernal. "Kill them, and you have my loyalty, and my clan." Turning to leave, the two unconscious goblins at his feet begin to come to, Tachande's last words ring in the clearing," It will be done." Author: Tachande Date: Tue Mar 17 00:04:09 2009 Subject Bernal The clash of arms tore through the hillside. Dozens of Ogres and Goblins fought, warcries and death cries from both sides split the air. Dark black banners with blood red insignias filled the air. "So this is what it is when these two races fight," Tachand muttered to himself as he overlooked the battle unfolding below him. Admiring the skill the ogres had as they cut the much smaller goblins to pieces. The great ogre's axes and swords split goblin armor in twain, rending innards, and cleaving skulls and the armor encasing them as if they were made of wool. Roars could be heard from an ogre commander somewhere deep in the lines. Yet Tachande soon grew tired of watching the carnage between the two races. Descending the other side of the hilltop, he mounted his horse and rode off into the wilds. "Let them kill each other, maybe then they will be more willing to talk," he said to noone in particular. Wheeling his horse to the right, he drew close enough to the sounds of battle to remain local. Periodically he would ride along the forest line as he spied goblin's fleeing the slowly dying battlefield. Yet he did not let them flee far. Wrangling them to his banner, he explained to the warriors of conquest and glory. Yet Tachande knew the forth coming battle would be pitched. Looking to the amassed goblins around him he roared in their language," Follow me into the mouth of Hell, and you will find glory." Wheeling his horse to face a path circumventing the battlefield, he marshaled the rest of the ragged goblin forces to his side and lead them around the battlefield, at the ogre's exposed flank. Looking at the goblins around him, Tachande tilted his head down and prayed to Takhisis for victory in the upcoming fight. Rearing his horse, he drew one of his swords and motioned for the attack. The goblins swarmed around the horseman marshalling them, up over the hilltop, and smashing into the exposed flanks of the Ogres still fighting their remaining kin. Tachande watched as the force of goblins ascended the hilltop and then disappear as they ran down to meet the ogre's flanks. A wolfish grin slowly spread as he heard the roar of ogre warriors as the goblins appeared on the hilltop. Urging the beast into an intense speed, Tachande himself descended into the battle, or what was left of the slaughter of the Bernal clan. Goblins hacked at the ogres from two fronts now. The ogres, once exhalting in their upcoming victory, now found themselves being wittled down to a weary mob of wounded ogres. Yet Tachande watched on, impressed, by the honor the few remaining ogres had. Blade wet with Ogre blood, Tachande wiped it off with the hem of his frayed cloak and sheathed his blade. The battle was over. Goblin's roared into the air as their impending defeat turned to victory at the arrival of the silver haired man. Yet, understanding of the constrains of battle himself, Tachande marshalled the surviving goblins to him. "Victory this day does not belong to me, but to my Queen. She has many names, Queen Takhisis to me and my people, yet you may know her as Mwarg." The goblins looked on as the silver haired man spoke to them of his queen and her cause, many were swayed to follow this man and to continue on in honor of Mwarg, yet soon many were cautious of the human. "What else will you offer, human, if we follow you?" a goblin voice called out amongst the warriors. Tachande turned his eyes to the crowd of warriors," I offer you Unlimited wealth, power, and glory if you fight for me, if you swear loyalty to me and my Queen." That seemed to strike the proper chord with the rest of the goblin warriors. Tachande felt exhaulted as the goblin's pledged their loyalty to Queen Takhisis/Mwarg, and to himself as their commander. Looking around, he motioned for one Goblin to come to his side," what is your name goblin?" Tachande asked the goblin. The goblin looked up at Tachande," Glorik, milord." "Glorik is it, well, take these men a few miles north of here, scavenge the dead and dying for whatever you all desire and set up camp near a brook about five miles north of here, in the forest." Tachande looked around as the goblins accepted his orders and began to scavenge the dead and dying of whatever suited their fancy. Food, arms, armor, and souvenirs, he cared not for their tokens, only their swordarms. Looking back at the battlefield, he wheeled his horse around and turned his head," Stay there until I come back, then, we will go to greater glory." Spurring his mount forward, Tachande headed back to the Chieftain of the Hect'grak clan, to tell him of his victory in his quest, and to gather the strength of the clan to further build his force. Author: Tachande Date: Tue Mar 17 02:55:35 2009 Subject Clan of Hect'grak (2) The spot he had come upon the goblins the first time stood barren. The impressions of the goblins he struck down still indented the soft soil. Looking around, Tachande scanned the foliage, looking for some sign of the goblin's movement. He scanned close to the base of one tree, small markings seemingly stabbed into the tree, presented a crude message of sorts to him. Recognizing the marks as a crude form of common and goblin, he decyphered the location of the hold of the goblins. Sighing, he tied his horse to the bole of the tree and patted its mane," I will be back, my friend." Securing his weapons, Tachande headed towards the opening of an underground tunnel. Not suprising, two Bugbears stood guard at the entrance, covered in crude Iron chainmail and wielding massive axes. "I've come to see your Chieftain," he stated bluntly to the two guards in goblin, as he walked between them. Both guards jerked towards Tachande in attempt to stop him. Waving his hand back, Tachande halted the two guards," If you value your pathetic lives you will take me to your Chieftain and not try to stop me." Hearing the threatening tone in the silver haired man's voice, both Bugbears hastily walked into the caves. Following the two guards through the tunnels, Tachande looked around in hidden amusement as a growing tide of goblins began to follow them. Both guards came to a halt in front of a strong wooden door carved into the face of the tunnel. Mumbling something to two more guards stationed outside of the door, they quickly opened the door and fled inside. Not being one for pleasantries, Tachande walked right past the two imposing guards and stared, calmly, at the astonished Chieftain sitting atop a stone throne at the center of the massive room. "What are you doing back," the Chieftain sputtered, shocked by the arrival of the Tachande. Looking at the Chieftain with his dark blue eyes, Tachande said three simple words," It is done." Author: Tachande Date: Wed Mar 18 03:37:18 2009 Subject Forsaken Tachande looked around the abode in which he now wearily sat. His broken dragonmail armor hung from his bloodied frame in tatters, wrecked from the battle. Wearily he looked up at Dante, his commander's eyes gauging him harshly, summing up the validity of his story. His twin swords, long used throughout his life, barely fit into the scabbards in which they were perfectly fit for, once upon a time. Absent was the amulet about his neck, the sign of his faith in Takhisis. It lay in a crumbled heap, miles away in the battlefield that had claimed his hard work, and almost his life. "I have failed you Dante, they were too strong," he says wearily, for the effects of the ill begotten battle hung deep on him. Wounds still fresh from the overwhelming battle, though they were now clotted from the long ride back to Neraka. _________________ Tachande had rocked the goblin chieftain's beliefs in his superiority as he told the details of the battle and the victory and crushing of the Bernal Clan. Though the Goblin chieftain retained his shocked demeanor, he was still hesitant to add his loyalty to this mysterious man. Questioning the man further, both spent an hour or so speaking between themselves. Yet their diplomacy ended rather hastily as a great crash broke through mid sentence. Both turned to see a massive goblin enter bearing a bloodied corpse of a much smaller one. They came from out of nowhere, a sizeable force," it muttered, dropping the corpse at the feet of the two suprised men. Tachande and the Chieftain looked to each other and then back to the Goblin," Who?" both asked in unison. Both listened in rapt attention, Tachande especially, as the Goblin detailed his patrol being ambushed by a war party of Ogres, apparent remnants of the Bernal clan that Tachande must have overlooked. For the goblin patrol was sent out on order by the Chieftain to confirm the tale Tachande had relayed. Now, that patrol was reduced to a lone survivor bearing a tale. After the goblin told his message to the Chieftain and Tachande, the Chieftain roared out in outrage at the news. Looking harshly at Tachande, the Chieftain drew his sword, prompting the other goblins and bugbears in the room to do so as well. Get out of my halls," roared the Goblin Chieftain, brandishing his sword threateningly at Tachande. Tachande knew this cause was lost, tilting his head slighty, he muttered a curse to Takhisis. Bowing his head, he looked at the Goblin Chieftain," I have failed," he stated plainly. "Obviously there are more of them out there, unknown to me, for I thought them dead after the battle in which I fought{," motioning to the goblins in the hall," Yet, if you do not face this force, you might face obliteration." The Goblin belched out something between a snarl and a laugh," I'll take my chances, now get the hell out of here before you are killed." Nowing he was defeated, Tachande tilted his head and departed the Goblin stronghold. Faced with a failure unknown to him in a long time, he mounted his horse and rode towards his camp. A few hours later, Tachande rode through the camp, summoning every warrior there. Marshalling the warriors, he quickly ordered a march as he spread word of the oncoming Ogre force. Hurrying out of the camp with his band of warriors, Tachande growled as the jowls of Ogres broke through the air. Trying to speed the ragtag force of Goblins to greater speed, he swore as the first shouts from the back began to rise. Wheeling around he watched on his utter contempt as the Ogre's burst from the woods. Wheel round, face them! he roared at the goblins, spittle flying from his mouth. Praying to Takhisis for assistance in this battle he charged towards the Ogres with his band of goblins. The battle was pitched, yet futile. Goblins were hewn like wheat to a scythe at the mercy of the ogre warriors. Tachande fought on, brandishing his swords in a fury as his plans laid in utter ruin across the battlefield. He cursed as the blade of his left scimitar became so notched that he was forced to sheath the blade, lest it break. Fighting on with his right sword, his left hand wound its way up to the medallion hanging from his neck. His dragonmail had begun to dent and break from the harsh blows of the ogres seemingly surrounding him. His sword arm was failing, his strength ebbing. Crying out as the possibility of death seemed certain, he prayed to Takhisis for salvation. Yet Takhisis denied her power to her paladin. Roaring in bitter anguish, Tachande gasped as the amulet from around his neck shattered. The image of Takhisis shattering into painful shards that stuck into the palm of his hand. Roaring in outrage as he felt the power of his goddess flee him, he cursed the name of Takhisis. Screaming rage tore through him, in haste he fled the failing battle. The sounds of battle slowly began to fade as he ran through the woods. Swearing vengeance upon the great bitch, the Goddess he had served for so long, he continued on. Scanning the foliage in haste, he marked the place where he had another horse ready. Colliding through the foliage, the horse startled by the smell of goblin, ogre, and human blood that covered the beaten paladin. Tachande soon soothed the frantic horse and mounted it, wheeling it full speed towards Neraka, towards his brother in arms. Author: Tachande Date: Sun Mar 22 21:29:46 2009 Subject Sojourn The ride from the outskirts of Haltigoth was weary. Each time dodging patrols from the army in which we were not wanted. Dante and the rest of the men kept a even pace, blending the miles into a myriad of lost thoughts. Not one among us knew what we were to do. Many times we sat in the darkness, wary of what we were to do next. We knew we had to get out of Taman Busuk, if we didn't it was only a matter of time before we got caught, but to where? That is when one warrior among us, a man in his mid twenties, suggested a place in his homeland of Abanasinia. A town he called Haven. After discussing the option with Dante, we were both agreed, we would follow the man's suggestion. "Geralt is it?" I asked, looking at the warrior. What struck me about the man was his similarity to myself, wheras my hair was silver in color, his was stark white, his eyes were of a dark green color. Geralt rode closer to me, at my left, and made a quick salute," aye sir." I thought back to the previous night, discussing the plans to go to Haven, and more importantly how we would get there. Geralt seemed to know alot of what, and where, we would go. Uncanny, yet useful. Casting the thoughts aside, I looked over to Geralt," we need to get more money for the trip to Haven. As it goes now, we have little to barter passage with." Looking over Geralt's light chainmail, and twin swords hanging across his shoulders, I motioned for him to halt beside me and I called a halt to the group. Dante looked towards me, impatience flaring in his eyes," why have you called a halt?" "We need money and supplies if we are to make passage to Abanasinia, and I have an idea of how to achieve this," I said to the agitated Dante," we raid." "What do you suggest we raid then, Tachande?" Dante asks. Grinning, I looked to the west, as expected a cloud of dust began to appear, far off in the distance," on that," I announce, pointing towards the dust cloud. "What the hell is that," Dante muttered, as the men looked towards me. The grin slid from my face as I looked to them," that, my comrades, is a caravan for a noble family." Dante grabbed ahold of my collar, nearly dismounting me," how the hell do you know that." I throw his hand off my shirt collar and readjust myself into my saddle," I sent a message to a contact in Solamnia prior to my departure from Neraka. Before I set out to fulfill your orders, I requisitioned funds from the treasury to hire a spy. Safe to assume, My plans on that matter died with my faith. Even then, he has his uses now." "Why didn't you tell me this," Dante growled in outrage. Looking at him I simply shrugged," some things are best kept secret, brother." Looking back to the growing blackness on the horizon, I turn to him again. "Either way, last night I sent a message to my spy through the ways of nature, he recieved it and apparently complied, for that carvan is some rival to his cause. We kill the caravan, help my contact, and make a profit for ourselves." Growling, Dante tipped his head in acknowledgment," we kill the caravan, grab anything of use, and head to the coast and find passage to Abanasinia, but Tachande, be wary on who you choose to relay information to." A slow grin spread across my face as the caravan drew closer to where we were now hiding. Looking to the men as they readied their weapons, I then checked on Dante, his side still heavily bandaged, yet he drew Wolf's Embrace none the less. Drawing a long knife from my boot, I looked over to Dante, awaiting the signal as the caravan drew closer. Looking at the caravan I grinned wolfishly. How easy this would be, four mounted knights stood guard around the heavily equipped carriage. Two bound chests were tied to the back of the caravan, inside would be some noble whelp and his family, yet outside, the knights would be a problem. Yet, sitting beside the driver, was a crossbowman. "That crossbowman will be a problem," I mutter to Dante. He nods his head, and motions for some of them men with bows to knock their arrows. Drawing their bows, they fit arrows to them and take aim at the caravan, each waiting to launch their volley. Looking to Dante, we both nod in unison. "Fire!" The men behind us proved to be adequate archers, the crossbowman fell to the dirt road, stuck with three black feathered arrows. One knight was dismounted by a well aimed arrow to the neck. The three other knights wheeled to face the mounted men charging towards them from the woods. I grinned as my thrown dagger embedded itself into the driver's chest as the fool tried to muster the horses to flee. Weaponless, I hung back from the group, admiring the men's work. Dante dispatched one knight with dismembering blow to his sword arm, then a reversal that decapitated the armored knight. The other two fell beneath the blades of Raze and Geralt. Battle over, I dismounted from my horse and walked over to two of the fallen knights. Looking down at the corpses, I grabbed ones sword from the dirt and wiped the blade clean of dirt. Removing the scabbards from my waists, I fit them into a harness across my shoulders. Sheathing one of the blades, I clean off the other from the second knight and sheath it into the other empty scabbard. For now, these two salvaged blades will suite me, yet I know I will need better when I reach Haven. Sighing, I walk over to Dante," I have weapons, ill fit for me, yet they will do till I find better." Nodding, Dante broke the lock on one chest with a dagger at his hip. All of us were pleasantly suprised to see it laden with Steel coin. Grinning to one another, we began to break the other lock when it dawned on me about the people inside the carriage. "Geralt, Raze, take care of the people inside the carriage, Jouko, Lyor, take the rest of the men and dispose of the bodies, after you take from them any weapons and valuables on them." Each saluted as they went off to their orders. Looking to Dante," how much do you think we have here?" Dante grinned and looked over to me," enough brother, more than enough." After the raid, our spirits were in better shape. We attached the chests to a horse given to us, compliments to the dead knights, and departed for the coast. The ride to the coast was long, and tiring. Yet none of us complained as we finally found a port where we could barter passage. It cost us a chest of steel, yet we found a ship. Now, we all sat close together, looking outward at the sea. We sank, wearily, into a fitful sleep and woke equally weary. For the sea did not seem to sit well with us. Yet we each had more important things to contemplate thank sea sickness. After several days at sea, we finally cross New Sea and come to a place called New Port. Seems the captain had business there. I look over to Dante as we depart the ship and head out towards Haven, following Geralt's lead. "What shall we do once we get there?" I ask Dante. Looking over at me, Dante plainly says," I have no idea." Author: Tachande Date: Thu Mar 26 06:35:41 2009 Subject Preparation The Barmaid slowly slid across Tachande's form, caressing him for a moment before peeling herself off of him and reaching for her skirt. All he could do is look over and admire her lithe frame, and her slender legs as she pulled her skirt up. Crossing his arms behind his head, he growls," after a night like last, I should marry you." Blushing, the Barmaid fumbles to tie her bodice as Tachande stands from the bed and begins to put on his clothing, armor, and swords. Once he was finished putting on his items, he slowly walked past the barmaid, kissing her passionately as he passed. Walking out of the room, he looked back, contemplating returning to the lively barmaid. Sighing, he walked to the stairs and descended them into the main room of the inn. Looking around, he spotted Dante sitting at his usual spot in the corner, drinking a glass of wine. Walking over to Dante, he grinned as he saw a wolfish grin spread across his face," take it you had fun," Dante said with a smirk. "Aye," Tachande chuckled. Waving over a barmaid, Tachande ordered a plate of food and ale to be brought to his table. Looking over at him, Dante took a drink from his wine before he began," You ready for another adventure? Or that barmaid a deal too good to pass up?" Tachande grunted as the barmaid set down the food and ale before him and looked up at Dante as he began to eat his food," she wasn't that good," he mumbled as he began to eat his meal. Dante grinned," good, for we have a job." Tachande slowed his eating and took a drink of his ale," what we doing?" he asks. Dante took another sip of his wine and ordered another to be brought to him. "Found a mage needing companions to go to Icewall." Looking at Dante questioningly, he mutters," How much they payin'?" Dante grinned at this and drained his wine," we keep anything we find." Tachande was about to say something when Dante tossed a pouch full of coin to him," and she gave me a pouch of coin to get supplies and such for the trip," he says as he looks on as Tachande looks inside the pouch. "And, I gave her a false name, I am now known as Wolf around her," he grins," I suggest you do the same." Pushing aside the empty plate, Tachande gave a curt nod and closed the pouch," I will be known as Witcher," he states flatly. With a slight nod, Dante says," I want you to go and buy our supplies and provisions for the trip." Tachande tips his head and stands to depart, as he leaves he shouts back," dont do anything I wouldn't do till I get back." Leaving the Inn, Tachande walks down to another inn to find Raze and Geralt, after telling them of their task at procurring supplies for the trip, he heads off to pass the time whilst they complete their task. Quickly growing bored, Tachande decides to go back to the inn, just in time to see Dante being led upstairs by a fiesty Blonde barmaid. Grinning Tachande sits down to a tankard of ale," we all need our fun," he chuckles as he drinks from his tankard. Author: Tachande Date: Fri May 29 04:52:23 2009 Subject Departure "I want you to take the men and head to Goodbay, once there wait for my arrival," Dante ordered Tachande. That was a week ago, Tachande looked back at Lyor, Raze, Geralt, and Jouko. We were still on our way to Goodbay yet thoughts of the mage and our overall destination lingered in the air. "We make it to Icereach, seemingly to an abandoned temple, that should be easy," Tachande muttered to his self. His patience was growing thin, the damned rain seemed to never cease, on top of that, there was no mead. Author: Tachande Date: Thu Dec 24 21:04:44 2009 Subject Flight from the Darkness Tachande stood at the prow of the ship, looking back he could still picture the frantic flight from the Lord City of Palanthas. His men were still with him, minus Dante. His white hair streaked across his face from the spray of the sea, angrily, he flicked his head and tossed the loose strands back into place. Turning, he walked back over to his men and sat in front of them. " We have a long way yet to go my friends," he says, eyes scanning each one," we have lost Dante it seems to the darkness. Yet we will not lose ourselves." His words were lost as a violent wave crashed over the side of the ship and doused them all with sea water. Cursing Zeboim's games, he shook off the worst of the water and leaned his head back against crate he was sitting against. Mind awash with outlandish thoughts, uncertain as to what he should do next, fears of himself and failure, he tried focusing on some minute thought to block out the onrush of the others. Growling in frustration, he stands and looks around the ship. Sailors went this way and that, servicing the many needs of the ship, belaying orders and carrying out others. To the back of the ship the captain stood. Still uncertain as to how their stroke of luck played out, Tachande examined the ships captain. A man of roughly fourty years, he has the look of a man whos life was spent pursuing the seas. His clothes were nothing spectacular, however the medallion at his neck and the mace at his hip betrayed a rather strange twist to the man. Noting those two specific items he turned back and looked out at sea. Mind wandering as to where the gods plan to take him next. Author: Tachande Date: Wed Jan 27 20:11:38 2010 Subject Tide of Darkness Rising Tachande wrote in a black leather book, a habit he only recently picked up. Within, accounts of his battles, his training, and his recent events in life were all recorded, for he found that it was much easier to put pen to paper than have your mind cloud ed by the emotions and memories of the past. It also served another purpose as a guide should he fall in battle, for his men to continue on in his name. He stopped for a second and scanned the copse of trees his men now made camp in. Outside of those trees, the Solamnic knights still stood guard, weary of his men, yet Lord Railen's orders were being upheld. Whether out of fear of him or respect, Tachande did not know. Yet he liked the Lord Knight. From what he had gleamed of the man, he was a strong warrior, and a dedicated knight. Yet what struck Tachande the most was the look in the knight's lone eye. A resolve he had not seen since his earlier life. He focused his thoughts back to his work at hand, penning down the events in recent months. Starting with his departure of Palanthas as the Dragonarmies attacked, to the loss of his blade-brother Dante. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Geralt and Raze both sensed something was amiss as strange cloaked figures began to appear in mass, clogging several streets vital to keep the flow of traffic moving. Each one's hand grasp their preferred weapon. The cloaked men began to search each startled citizen, screams for the guards went unheard, for most were either dead or dying at this point. Raze pointed to a alleyway clear of cloaked men and Raze followed as he ducked within. Running to report the events unfolding to their master, both muttered as to what they were going to do now that the enemy had found them. Dante sat across from Tachande, both in a heated discussion as to where they should leave to, as Geralt and Raze burst into the room. Both appeared disheveled, breathing heavily. "What has happened?" Dante ordered. Both men recounted what they had witnessed, Dante and Tachande shared a grim look throughout the recounting. Muttering to himself in Goblin, Tachande cursed their luck. The Goddess had forwarded her plans of invasion. Dante ordered both men to alert the others and bring them here and turned to Tachande as they departed," what will we do now that draconians are in Palanthas?" Tachande focused back on Dante, foul curses still brewing. "We have to get out before were overrun," Tachande said plainly as he reached for a mug of ale sitting on the table," she has come." Dante roared in anger and struck the mug from Tachande's hand," we will not flee, brother." Growling, he turned and reached for his blade," we will fight her." "Aye, we will fight, and die," Tachande sighed," but," he grunted as a grin began to spread across his face," we will fight and die gloriously." Both grabbed their gear and waited for their men to return. After everyone assembled, they made their way to the harbour and awaited nightfall for the attack. Sure enough, Dragonarmy ships arrived as dark approached, Lunitari's light giving the bay a blood tinged edge. Dante spread out the men at appropriate intervals as the ships sailed closure. By this time the defenses in the harbour were bein readied for the assault, yet both men knew that if Draconians had penetrated the defenses of Palanthas then the defenses themselves would be tampered with. As one catapult readied to fire at the Dragonarmy ships, the arm of the catapult snapped in twain. Each time a defense prepared to launch some integral part would break down. Men at arms ran to defend the harbour, yet calls to arms sounded from the gates as well from the watchers within the city. The city would be lost. Men poured from the alleys, sewers,and from the heavens themselves. Draconians unmasked themselves and fought alongside those spies who charged now. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Much to Tachande's annoyance, much of the resulting battle was shrouded in a fog in his mind, both he and his men suffered from the same confusion. "You were lost to us then, brother," Tachande said aloud. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Continuing to write---- Tachande twisted and fended a blow as he and the rest were being pushed back. He looked back at a ship preparing to dare the Dragonarmy blockade. Ordering his men to fall back to the ship, he looked one last time for his fallen brother. Unable to find his brother's corpse, he swore in frustration and turned to lead the men aboard the ship. For now that Dante was gone, he was left to lead them. As the ship slipped past the Dragonarmy blockade, Tachande looked back at the fallen city. Lyor, Raze, Geralt, and Jouko stood beside him," where shall we go now?" Raze spoke up from the group. Tachande turned to them and looked out to the sea," We head to Nordmaar." Author: Tachande Date: Sun Jan 31 01:21:14 2010 Subject Preparation for War ------------------------------------------------- Our voyage at sea took far less than I expected, for it had been long since I traveled by sea. When we arrived off the coast of Nordmaar I bade the captain farewll and ordered my men to depart. Though we were cautious of our landing, I had no overt fears of attack. Granted the smoke on the horizon bode ill for our arrival, I hoped the attention of the dragonarmies would focus on the southern end of Nordmaar. After a few days on foot, and many a cautious venture into local villages, I came across a sign of hope. The mark of a Grey Wolf. The last time we set foot upon Nordmarrian soil, Dante commanded the allegiance of a local tribal lord, now I have come to claim that Tribe, and those of whom I can gain allegiance to my banner. ------------------------------------------------- Tachande looked up for a brief moment, looking at the blue sky above, recounting the hard times beheld in Nordmaar. ------------------------------------------------- Ordering a halt, Tachande motioned for his men to fan out, weapons at the ready. Something was amiss, scanning the horizon Tachande saw the markings of seven furred warriors watching them from the outskirts of the forest. "Et Gurroend Wulf, Di Loegn Far'thunen Tachande." The seven warriors shown themselves from the forest-line. Each bearing the mark of a grey wolf clasp at their left. Geralt looked back to his lord," what did you tell them?" Tachande looked towards Geralt and back to the advancing warriors," I told them, Hail wolfkin, be known." Geralt looked at the heavily armored and furred warriors," and it worked that simple?" he said questioningly to Tachande. Tachande grinned," no, that is why they show themselves, duck." Geralt looked back just as a cloven axe, aimed for his head, missed by a mere hair's breath. Drawing his blades, Tachande ordered his men back, but ready. Looking at the advancing Nordmaarian wolves, Tachande grinned," Halt brothers, or face the wrath of your commander." The warriors laughed admist themselves," follow you?" they spoke in Nordmaarian," why should we follow you?" Behind them, the leader of their tribe stood waiting, still lame from the wound inflicted by Dante. "So you have returned," he roared from the treeline," but where is your other, the one with the crescent moon?" Tachande looked past the seven warriors and toward their leader," He fell in glorious battle, if your men do not wish the same, order them down, and we shall speak," he commanded in Nordmaarian. Geralt and the others watched on as their leader conversed with the barbarians in mail. Behind those seven warriors stood a towering man, heavily furred and equally mailed, yet lame with a almost useless leg. Raze looked to Raze," what do you think their talking about," he asked. "Nothing good," Raze's voice carried," though that one with the bad leg seems to have the advantage over us." Tachande looked back at his men," sheathe your blades, yet to Lyor in his tongue," keep an eye on the lame one, he holds more tricks than any." The men reluctantly sheathed their blades, yet held onto their other means of killing. Tachande looked back to the Chieftain," well, what shall it be? Kneel before me, or lose your other leg?" he ordered. The Chieftain's face paled at Tachande's insult, yet he knew his place, rubbing the jagged scar where Dante's sword ended the use of his leg. "I remember what me and mine swore those many months ago, and we have done what we can to prepare for your return." Tachande's men looked dumbstruck as warriors appeared from the forest," well, there must be fifty at least," Geralt mocked to his fellows. "No," Tachande grinned as he returned to the presence of his men. "There are eighty here, and eighty more farther south fighting the Dark Queen's armies," Tachande said with a grin spreading across his face. "Well," Geralt asked," what shall we do now." Tachande looked at Geralt," we train them." Author: Tachande Date: Sun Jan 31 02:00:26 2010 Subject Camp ------------------------------------------------- Whilst those groups began their work, Tachande ordered his elite and the Chieftain to hold a council in the Warlord's tent (Tachande's New Abode). "We must begin training of your men at once," Tachande said to the lame Chieftain," they are hale fighters, Whilst those groups began their work, Tachande ordered his elite and the Chieftain to hold a council in the Warlord's tent (Tachande's New Abode). "We must begin training of your men at once," Tachande said to the lame Chieftain. "They are able fighters, true, but they lack the discipline of more civilized soldiers," Tachande stated. The chieftain clasped his hands behind his back and spoke reassuringly," we will milord, yet first we must get back to the defense of Nordmaar." Tachande knew this would come about soon," we must first train the men in better combat, otherwise their wont be a Nordmaar to RECLAIM." At the word Reclaim the Chieftain's eyes misted over in pale anger," you want us to flee, leave our homes, our women, to the armies arrayed against us? " Tachande let out a sigh, probing his mind as to where to start," no, yet you must realize the losing fight you are up against," pouring a mug of mead, Tachande turns back after a hearty draft. "We are arrayed against a mighty foe, they have dragons, numerous ships, and a will bent on our annihilation," Tachande slowly states," and though you fight for your women and homes, you are still losing." "We have a hundred and sixty men in which to train before we lose this country," Tachande growls," we have precious time in which to do so, as well as securing provisions and safety for whom we can save." "There are caves in the Emerald Mountains in which your women can hide, there is also a cache of weapons there, or so I believe, from a time when I was native to this land," Tachande says," we shall start there." Looking around, Geralt looks to his lord and the Nordmaarian Chieftain," and what shall we do tonight?" Both men look at Geralt, who shrinks from their feverous gazes," tonight we shall see the skills of our new soldiers," Tachande states. Outside, the soldiers under Tachande's command erect a sword circle, simple in design. Stones surrounding a furrowed circle in which warrior's test their skills against one another. Within, Tachande steps. Drawing his blades, he challenges to the Nordmaarian men outlining the circle," of the best of you, who shall challenge me?" Looking around at the bearded faces around, Tachande growls again," whom among you will face me?" swinging his blades, rotating his shoulders in a small warm up. From among the throng of soldiers, one fiery barbarian steps forth. Covered in mail and furs, fiery red beard and blood red hair, the warrior stood a full head taller than Tachande. Unsheathing his sword and unslinging his shield from his back, he stood across from Tachande. " I shall challenge you," the Red warrior said. (To be Continued) Author: Tachande Date: Sun Jan 31 23:29:59 2010 Subject Camp (Continued) Tachande looked around the sword circle, keeping close watch on the eyes of the Nordmaarians around. He knew this was not a simple bout, but a test. Should he fail this test, this force would rip him and his men apart. Geralt and the others looked on as their lord circled the red barbarian in the ring, swords crossed and at the ready. Feigning a lunge, Tachande was pleased to see the barbarian shift his shield to guard whilst bringing down his sword to attack at the unexposed back. Striking with his left blade, Tachande parried the chop from the sword. Turning as he passed the red barbarian, Tachande struck out at the warriors shield arm, breaking skin just under the hide covering his arm pit. The warrior turned with a grunt and pressed his attack. Having the advantage of a shield and sword rather than two swords, the barbarian was faring well against Tachande. Sharing blows, however, the barbarian quickly began to tire as the weight of his shield grew. The barbarian planted his feet and prepared to bash his shield to knock Tachande off the ground. The throng of warriors hooted and cheered as their champions seemed to have a final blow against Tachande. Tachande grinned as the warrior bashed with his shield, dropping his left sword he lunged under the bash and came up, point first, against the warrior's unprotected throat. "You fought well," Tachande commented," but not well enough." Silence spread throught the throng of warriors, their champion had just suffered his first defeat, and at the hands of their new warlord. Some bowed in acknowledgment to Tachande's skill, whilst others sneered. This is going to be a rough journey- Tachande said inwardly. Looking around to the warriors," go to your beds tonight, for the breaking of first light we shall begin your training. " After posting the guards and setting the shifts, Tachande himself departed to his tent, after a brief discussion with Raze, he retired to his inner sanctum within the tent and drifted off to sleep, mind not slowing as sleep stole over his concious mind. Author: Tachande Date: Sun Jan 31 23:45:41 2010 Subject Finished Memories Tachande wrote out the last few descriptions of the last months, the training of his forces, the near defeat at the hands of the Dragonarmies in Southern Nordmaar, and the vision of Paladine. Looking up from his completed entries, he looked suprised as the sun began to dip below into the sea. Standing, stretching his cramped muscles, he packed away his writings and turned to attend to the men who were lounging around," Geralt, Raze.... Prepar the tents for the night, we will await the knight's return," he ordered, helping his men prepare the camp for the night. Talking in low tones to Lyor," keep an eye out tonight, I trust the Lord Knight's word, but not the actions of his men." Lyor bowed his head to his lord and prepared for a long night of watch. Author: Tachande Date: Thu Apr 15 07:25:53 2010 Subject Mettle Tachande sat in his command tent, or what you could call one. Slats of bleached cloth strung across several rope lines, each hastily fastened to a worn wooden spike. Spread out amongst a beat sheet of metal, a stained map of Nordmaar was set. Figures of Dragonarmy forces and Nordmen stood opposite of one another. He sighed and scratched the growth of a beard that had appeared after the last few days, much of the map was overtaken by Dragonarmy figurines, each seemingly closer and closer to the capital. Looking closely, he noted one section to the southeast that still held. Reminded to compensate the mage for his craftmanship and enchanments on the figurines, he departed the front flap of the map. Two soldiers in black steel armor snapped to attention, the furs of their tribe hung across each paudlron, both bore the blood red sash of the Wolf Pack, Tachande's elite guard. "Summon the mage to Lyor's tent, I shall await him there while I convene another council," he commanded one guard, to the other," you follow, I have another task for you." The soldier promptly followed his lord in the direction previously stated. Tachande walked with an easy tread through his camp, soldiers and new recruits mulled about several low fires spread out amongst the tents. He passed among the men under his command, full knowing the tension in the air. The camp was abuzz with their recent defeat at the hands of the Green Dragonarmy advanced scouts in the region. "The damned dragons," he cursed under his breath as he passed the healer's tent, though mindful of the dark goddess's return, and that of Paladine, healers with true god powers remained non-existant. Many of the wounded Nordmen bore acid wounds, or a wicked cough which bellowed forth black blood, both unwelcomed signs. Especially the blood, signs that those men would not live throughout the night. After the despairing tredge through the camp, Tachande finally arrived outside the tent of Lyor, his right hand man. Turning his attention to his guard he ordered the young Nordmaarian to stand guard behind the tent. "Behind the tent," the young guard asked with a perplexed look on his face. Patience wearing thin, Tachande's mailed fist flew out, connecting with the man's helm," do as I command." Brooding as he entered the tent, Tachande stopped for a second to compose himself before opening the final flap of the tent. Much more detailed than that of his tent, Lyor's held a vast interior, by far the largest in the camp. For two reasons, one to give the enemy a false idea on as to where the commander rested, and two, Lyor's tasks were much more delicate than his. "Any more information from him," Tachande asked Lyor as he turned his attention to a chained and heavily beaten minotaur lying on the ground, bound to the center beam of the tent. "None milord," Lyor stated flatly, much of the energy fled after the prolong "interrogation" of their captive," he still refuses to reveal their location." He remained calm despite the growing frustration brewing in his gut," then we shall break camp soon then, we cannot afford another ambush at the hands of her majesty's forces. Lyor sensed the lost sense in his lord's tone, for he knew his lord well, much accustomed to the mood swings and fits of anger now plaguing his commander," we shall find some way to win," he tried to say. Rubbing his temples slightly, Tachande looked at Lyor with a haggard face matching a heavy heart," I prefer to live to fight another day than to win, seeing as the Dark Queen's forces control most of Nordmaar. As well as the Solamnic knights lack of organization to commit to our cause." Bowing to his lord, Lyor drew a dagger from the belt at his hip and slid it across the throat of the great bovine. "When do we depart?" he asked, wiping the blood on the bovine's kilt. "Now." Both men exited the tent from the rear exit, much to the dismay of the guard, rubbing a newly aquired bruise on his helmed jaw. "Dispose of the corpse and return back to my tent," Tachande ordered the soldier. Turning to their left, both men walked a few paces until the mage and guard appeared withing visual range, withdrawing a pouch of steel from his belt, Lyor handed it to his commander. "We could still use your talents, master mage, in the battles to come," Tachande commented, expecting little in return. For the Khur mage before him seldomly spoke. This time, the mage suprised both men," I will not remain where death is certain," the mage stated bluntly, no other sign of emotion played across his face other than a quick glance at the money pouch. "You have your pay then, mage," Tachande growled as he tossed the pouch to the mage, who bowed and then vanished, words left lingering in the air. "Mages," Lyor spit out. "One cannot trust a man who would rather throw roses at an enemy than skewer them with a sword." Tachande chuckled slightly at this," oh, they have their uses my friend, they have their uses." Turning back towards his command tent, Tachande and Lyor, guard in tow, began to issue the order to break camp and prepare for another long march. (To Be Continued) Author: Tachande Date: Fri Jun 4 07:06:35 2010 Subject Hammer and Anvil Tachande bellowed out a roar at the oncoming army, his men spread to his left and right, shields locked. Archers positioned behind him let loose another volley, a vain attempt to slow the oncoming horde. From across the ridge, the commander of the forces attacking the Nordmaarians laughed," these barbarians think they stand a chance against Her Majesty's forces." The draconian to his left hissed and pulled his hood farhter over his scaled head. "Do not under estimate those barbarians, Argedos, for they are led by one whom followed the Queen for quite some time." The commander scoffed," so what, a cowardly deserter now leads a poorely equipped band of barbarians against the might of Her Majesty's forces, they will lose." Bracing for impact, the men to Tachande's immediate left shoved forward with their shields, spearing goblin and man alike on their short swords. Barking an order to the men on his right, Tachande heaved against the men in front of him, his sword cutting one goblin from the neck to groin. To his right the men followed suit, shoving the front wave of goblins back and skewering them on their swords. Another volley of arrows from the archers slightly halted the charge of the dragonarmy scout force. Tachande bellowed for a messenger, a lad appeared wild-eyed from the sights of battle," tell the Cadre of mages to open fire on that bastard." He says pointing to the man standing on the ridge opposite of the battle. The boy shuffles off to inform the mages when Tachande feels the first tinges of terror," Dragons," he roars," break off and FLEE!" Listening to orders, his men break off attack and begin to follow their leader as the first green dragon appears from the clouds across from them. With a wave of his hand the enemy commander grins as the dragon dips towards the barbarians. The wave of fear spreads across Tachande's small band, some succumbing to the fear and losing heart, quickly dispatched by the pursuing goblins and soldiers. Tachande follows the men in front, anger burning in his gut, half his force held back by a last minute decision advised by Lyor, who held command over them. He would avenge their deaths, of all the treachery and murder Nordmaar would be avenged. Thinking themselves clear as the dragon pulls back and the goblins and men halt their chase, the first few ranks of men in front of Tachande bellow out a warning as men form ranks in front of the fleeing force. Tachande heard the shout as the men in front stopped dead in their tracks, facing the heavily armed force arrayed in front of them. Scanning the men against them, Tachande recognized them as Dragoncore soldiers. "Stand down you bastards, they've unleashed their dragons against us, we have to pull back," he orders to the men. The soldiers ahead part down the middle as a stooped man makes his way to the front," I'm afraid not Tachande." Tachande's face loses color as he recognizes the man, a turncoat," attack them, leave non alive!" he roars, dropping his shield and bringing his other sword to bear. The men around Tachande do not hesitate when he charges forward towards the new force. Brandishing swords, maces, shields, and axes they follow their commander, even unto their doom. (To Be Continued) Author: Tachande Date: Fri Jun 4 10:31:50 2010 Subject Hammer and Anvil (2) "By the Gods, Kill them all!" Tachande roared to his men, fighting desperately to flee this lost battle. Parrying a blow aimed to his head, he reverses and counters it with a stab into the man's neck with his right sword. Twisting the blade, Tachande grins in bloodlust as the man's neck blossoms into a spray of blood. All around men fight desperately to escape, no order just survival. The battered Nordmaarians continue the fight, weary of the force they just fled. Back behind the two embattled forces a cry rises. Several soldiers in the back, eager for a fight, turn as they cry pierces the air. Tachande parrys another blow when he too hears the cry. Trying to see over the din of battle, all he can make out are several groups of men charging from a tree line not one hundred feet from their current position. Breaking off their engagment with the fleeing Nordmaarians, the Dragoncore soldiers wheel around to face this new foe. Now fighting a battle on two fronts, several Dragoncore soldiers throw down their arms and kneel to surrender. The only blessing the gods bestow on them are the sharp edges of sword and axe as the men cut down all in their path. Urging his men onward, Tachande growls in victory as he spots the red sash worn by the newcomers. "Brothers, Kill them all," he roars renewed, fighting on as more and more dragoncore fall to his men. Once the battle is finished, Tachande walks amongst the fallen, weary, and dying. Finding Lyor in the midst of battlefield he ushers him over," about damn time brother," is all he can say. Lyor grins as he clasps Tachande on the back," I don't mind missing the beginning, as long as I'm here for the end." Tachande grins," we'll you almost showed up late for the party," he looks around," we need to gather the wounded and take what we can from the dead, we have more enemies coming from behind." Lyor nods and begins to carry out his orders," but we need to move fast as well," Tachande says as Lyor departs. Now feeling the effects of the battle, Tachande winces as a pain spreads from his hip up to his right armpit. Looking down and feeling for the wound, he feels the links of chain smash against his ribs. Pulling his hand back he sees the blood. "Damn," he mutters to himself, grabbing a wad of cloth from a corpse by his feet, he crams it into the breach in his mail and sets to organizing his men for their retreat. Meanwhile, the Commander of the Dragonarmy forces in the valley stands still on the ridge, watching as the Nordmaarians finish off his turncoat soldiers, sputtering in rage he begins to marshal orders to his men below to engage them. It's too late before he realizes the Nordmaarian's are fleeing back into the dense woods at the start of the valley, away from the eyes of his dragon, and the ever thirsty blades of his warriors. "Curse you, exiled one, by all the Queen's Soul I hope you burn in the abyss for this," he screams to the fleeing Nordmen. Tachande heads the retreat all the while thinking of his new motto..- Live to fight another day- Author: Tachande Date: Sat Jun 26 01:13:28 2010 Subject Respite, For Now... His men marched at a steady pace, eyes darting from underneath their helms. Constantly weary of attack, Tachande had sent scouts ahead to assure that the path was clear. They had been defeated in their last battle, it was a shame that would be rectified in time, if presented. As of now Tachande's only thoughts were of getting his force and himself to a relatively safe hideout. He knew some of the local terrain, Sahket Jungle, several groups of men grey up here, their arms and armor bearing some semblance to the jungle around. He kept those men ahead, paving the way for his ragtag force to proceed. Tachande let out a ragged breath as he pulled off his furs, the humidity stifling, and threw it atop of a nearby cart. He ordered his men to do the same, not wanting to lose any to the heat and humidity. His hand gripped the reins to his horse tightly, nerves taut, as his other rested on the pommel of one of his twin swords. A bark from one of the forward scouts drifted through his thoughts. "What is the warning," he asked Lyor to his right. "I'll find out," Lyor says as he gallops forward, only to return with a wolfish grin on his face," the Wolf smiles upon us milord," he motions to the thinning jungle," we are approaching the Emeral Peaks A similar grin spread across Tachande's face," Bring Egard to me, he boasted of knowledge the ruins within the peaks only a fort-night ago, now he may prove his word." Soon the warrior made his way to Tachande's position," you summoned me milord?" Tachande tipped his head forward," ahead lies the Emerald Peaks as you know. Now I need you to lead us to the ruins." Egard's face paled under the eyes of his Lord," sir, it has been many years since I have travelled here," he sputters. "Well, can you lead us?" Tachande growled in frustration, cursing the boasting fool. "I can try," Egard says, hesitantly looking back towards the Peaks. "Then lead on," Tachande motions, eyeing the pale warrior as he advances to the head of the column to inform the scouts of what he knows of the area. Author: Tachande Date: Thu Jul 8 07:33:13 2010 Subject Letters in the Mists We made camp in the Ruins of one of the old cities in the Emerald Peaks, much to Egard's relief, as well as my own. My men have earned their respite from this war. Maybe a week, no more, before we return to the field. Our numbers few, yet our hearts brimming with fury for our fallen. We defend our homeland, our wives, our children, our homes. Yet we are so few in number now. Compared to the vast armies assaulting us from the South, we are but a pebble in the midst of a raging river. Yet somehow we must prevail. Victory cannot be achieved. We do know that, each one feels the weight of defeat in arms, yet in spirit we will be victorious. We might die, yet our message shall ring to the heavens, and the gods themselves shall bear witness to the courage of the Nordmaarian men. Tachande looked up as he finished the latest entry into his journal, a familiar habit picked up in these last few months. Reaching over, he traded the worn journal for a mug of spiced wine sitting on a table to his left. Rolling the wine in his mouth, he savored the unique taste, yet his mind would not relent on the matters at hand. They miraculously found some small ruins in the peaks. Suitable to start a camp, some bastion of hope in the darkness. Even now he had men with digging experience fortifying tunnels underneath their feet. He also issued orders to restore some strength to the stone walls. Though not high by conventional means, they can slow an army's advance. He turned over another diagram of the ruins as a messenger arrived," milord, we have word from the scouts." Tachande looked up from the diagram and motioned for the messenger to continue," the force we broke contact with followed our trail somewhat, they predict that they will find us soon, or they will get lost in the mists that took root behind us." Blessed be those mists, Tachande thought to himself. Whilst his men marched nervously into the ruins, a fae mist began to seep from the rocks, covering the path behind. "Pray to the gods that they do not follow, for if they do, were in for one hell of a fight," Tachande says as he steps away from the diagram. Fingering the swords at his hip another thought struck him," have you heard any word of reinforcements from North Keep?" The messenger shakes his head, letting a sigh escape his guard," no sir, no word, my guess sir, if I can speak plainly?" Tachande nods and the messenger continues," my guess is they are still debating this threat, politics instead of glory." "Aye, politicians seek nothing but gold and sly words, not the glory that lasts ages, nor the fires of combat," Tachande says with a grimace. Dismissing the messenger, he takes a final draft of the mug and sets in back down. "What shall I do for my men," he speaks to the air. From behind a faint whisper comes. Turning, he sees a glob of mist silhouete the inner wall of his dwelling. From that mist, a golden aura begins to build, slowly a warrior takes shape. Strong body clad in platinum armor, red cloak strung over his left shoulder. Removing his helm, the warrior looked dead at Tachande. Tachande bowed his head, not knowing what else to do. Looking back to the warrior standing before him, he asks cautiously," who are you?" " I am someone long forgotten, yet soon to be remembered, I come with a warning and a word of advice. You will suffer great loss at the hands of some closest to you, yet you will find through that, the key to winning a great victory." Tachande peels through what was said," who shall betray me," he asks the warrior. "I will not say, that in time will be told by itself and their actions, just know this Tachande, the loss will be great, for you and all those following." Before Tachande can ask more from the figure, the mists begin to grow around him once again. As the last glimpses of the warrior begin to fade, a calming effect spread across Tachande, easing some of the darkness plaguing his mind. Author: Tachande Date: Sun Aug 22 21:15:23 2010 Subject For Glory....For Nordmaar Tachande's hand drifted across the broken stone piled against one section of wall, clenching his hand as the rock dust collected in his palm. Rubbing his hands together he looked back out, over his assembled men. "When will it all end?" he said in a low whisper, fearful of being overheard by two sentries not ten feet from him. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he collected his thoughts and let out a long sigh. "Men of Nordmaar, my people. We are fighting a battle fiercer than we have seen in an age," his voice carrying out over his assembled soldiers. "Some believe we cannot when, and I do not discourage such talk." Each man slightly looked to one another," rather I embrace it. For each day you continue to rise from your beds, equip your gear, and ride out for your country. Each day you prove your loyalty to your brothers and country." "We will not bow to the likes of the Dragonarmies, whether they outnumber us ten to one, or even two thousand to one, we will fight them, for each man or beast felled saves one life in our country. Every drop of blood you shed, every life you take, makes you stronger in your beliefs. Makes you a better soldier, makes you a Nordmaarian." Looking out to his men, a slight grin spreads on his bearded face," we do not break, we do not flee, we FIGHT!" he roared to his men, drawing his blades and raising them in the air. --------------------------------- The roars of the men could be heard from miles around, birds flew from trees, and one lone kender awoke from his nap. "Looks like something interesting is happening," the kender chatted to a bluebird perched on his shoulder," something very interesting." The kender rose and smoothed out his pouches and patted back his hair," lets go see what is was shall we," he beamed to the bird. ---------------------------- "What was that," grumbled the awakening minotaur as he rose rubbing his eyes. "I have no idea," growled the goblin near him leaning against a tree," must of been another fight." The minotaur rose and shook his horned head," that was no fight amongst our kind," he scanned the woods looking for signs of something," there were too many humans in that roar." "Then you go find out what the hell it was," the fed-up goblin growled to the hulking minotaur. Before the goblin had time to duck, the minotaur's axe embedded itself cleaning and deeply into the bowel of the tree where the goblin's head once stood. Blood fountained out of the headless corpse at it spasmed to the ground, it's head balanced perfectly on the axe blade still stuck in the tree. The minotaur growled at the uselessness of goblin-kin before jerking the axe out of the tree. Wiping the axe off on the corpse of the goblin, he slung it back into the harness at his back and strode past the pool of spreading blood, intent on finding the source of the noise. Author: Tachande Date: Tue Sep 7 02:59:11 2010 Subject The Ultimate Betrayal "What have you done," growled Tachande as Lyor and Raze drew their weapons at the two guards opening the gate. The two guards did not flinch as the swords edged closer," we're doing what we should of long ago." Past the gate, a sudden roar took to the air. Groups of men charged from the rocky outcropping of the entrance to the ruins that Tachande had made a temporary base. "Kill them," Tachande roared to his men, as he turned and ran towards the murdered sentry. Picking up the horn from the dead guard, he blew three quick bursts and dropped the horn, hands going to his swords. Tachande's men looked up from their gathering as the call to arms were sounded. Each man did not gather their arms and charge to the gates, they in turned grinned at one another and turned to Jouko," you did well, Commander." Jouko looked past the gathering of men, noting Geralt running towards them, weapon drawn. "Gather your arms, our Lord needs us," he screamed at the men. Halting his steps, he knew not of their betrayal. "Kill him," Jouko commanded to the gathered soldiers. Geralt turned as the men streamed towards him intent on killing the witness to their betrayal. "What have you done," he screamed as the men swarmed him, overwhelming him in a tide of swords and axes. Tachande twisted around as the few men who did answer his call began to arrive," where are the rest," he roared to Raze and Lyor. Neither man could answer as the men began to reach the open gates. "What shall we do Jouko," one soldier spoke among the gathered soldiers. "We go to the gates, and welcome our brothers." The fight was desperate and futile. Tachande tried to organize some semblance of defense, yet their was simply too many. Organizing a slow retreat, they began to fall back towards Geralt and Jouko position, hopefully finding out why they did not heed the call. Jouko looked the his force in eager anticipation, each man equipped with a bow, they had the high ground. "This will teach you Tachande, that noone betrays the Queen," he said with a evil grin spreading across his face. Tachande turned past the rows of tents, his men fighting behind to aid their wounded. "Geralt, Jouko," Tachande roared. Looking past the corner of one row of tents, he saw the reason for their absence in the breach of the gates. Geralt's corpse laid in a heave of mutilated remains, loyalists to Tachande who stood by their commander's friend to the bitter end. Taking the loss of Geralt with a quick scan of the carnage, Tachande noticed the absence of Joukos'. Jouko spotted Tachande as he panned over the remains of the few loyalists with Geralt, grinning all the while he bade his men to rise and knock their arrows. "Tachande, you betrayed your Queen for that you shall die!" Jouko roared as his men let loose their arrows. Many fell as the first volley struck Tachande's men unawares, Raze fell with an arrow piercing his skull. Tachande hoarsely roared to his men to brace themselves from an attack on both sides, knowing that they would be overcome. The only few thoughts that coursed through his mind as his men melted down to a mere handful was the warning those days before, of Betrayal. "Milord," Lyor shouted over the screams of the dying," you have to flee." Tachande shook his head, determined to die with his men. "So be it," Lyor whispered as he knelt and began to pray. Tachande shuddered as a ill feeling swept through his body, as if his body was being dragged through mud. Looking around at the battle his vision began to blur. "Lyor what are you doing," he roared to the kneeling priests, his arms and legs going numb. "Saving you milord," Lyor said, tears streaming down his grime covered face. Mists began to surround Tachande, who feebly tried to resist the pull away as his body began to fade. "Farewell my lord, my friend," Lyor whispered as his spell completed, departing his Liege far away from this betrayal. Standing, Lyor turned as the sword pierced his chest, at the end Jouko only scowled," what have you done you fool!," he hissed as the dying Cleric slid off his blade. Lyor took his final glimpse of the sky as his soul departed, up above a glimpse of shining Platinum could be seen briefly in the sky. Author: Tachande Date: Thu Sep 16 13:11:55 2010 Subject From Mist to Fortune Tachande gasped in pain, his hand shaking as he clutched the wound in his side. He blinked several times before his vision returned to normal, though dust soon clogged his vision again as a wagon past not five feet from him. "Where the hell am I," he spoke to himself, remembering the events that led him to this moment. "Well hello there, you seem awfully dirty," spoke a voice behind him. Rolling on his back slowly, Tachande looked up to see a brightly dressed kender peering at him, "where am I?" The kender chuckled and looked after the wagon as it headed towards the gates," why your outside of Palanthas, it's a nice place, though the jails aren't the best I've ever been in." The kender looked back to Tachande," though my Unlce Trapspringer once had an adventure in Palanthas one time, something about a very large rat and a smelly thief. Do you know any smelly thiefs?" Tachande groaned," No I don't," he spoke fleetingly, clenching his teeth against the pain," I think I'm dying." The kender looked at Tachande's side," I think you might be right, I almost died once too. This butcher once chased me with a very nasty looking cleaver, he wasn't too nice I don't think." "Enough," Tachande growled," can you find someone inside who can help me, their is a knight, Lord Railen. Find him." The kender's eyes grew wide," I once knew a knight, nice fellow, he'd always shooed me away when I asked to touch his sword though....." Tachande groaned and his eyes began to roll back in his head. "Well thats a very nifty trick, can you teach me?" the kender exclaimed. When Tachande didn't answer the kender realized that something was wrong with him," I'll go get help, you stay right there." Soon the kender ran off down the road, ducking past two gate guards trying to grab him," I'm trying to save my friend, I have to find a knight, Lord Ranen or something," he shouted back to them as he ran down the street. Author: Tachande Date: Thu Sep 16 13:25:53 2010 Subject From Mist to Fortune (2) The kender flew down the street as fast as his short legs could carry him, and as fast as his hands could retract from the pockets of many merchants he passed. "I've got to find the knight," he kept repeating to himself. Dashing down one alley to avoid the guards running behind him, the kender ran behind a stall and past the shouting vendor as he found a very shiny locket lying on the ground as he ran past," I'll return it as soon as I find help for my friend." "Humans should be more careful with their stuff," the kender said as he slowed his pace and put the locket in his pouch," they always lose things and I have to bring them back to them." Soon the kender looked up at a building that happened to appear in front of him as he found another trinket another merchant had dropped," maybe this is the place?" "Sir," the kender looked up at the knight standing at attention outside the building," Is Lord Ranen home, I need to speak to him right away, my friend is dying out by the road and he said he knew him." The knight looked down at the brightly coloured kender," and who is this friend Kender, a dog?" the knight said with a chuckle. "No you ninny, he is a great warrior, looked like he slayed a dragon but the dragon bit him back," the kender snapped back, irritated by the knight's joke. The knight looked down at the kender and shook his head," go on kender, get thrown in a jail or something." The kender sighed," No respect, none at all, if my friend wasn't bleeding to death I'm sure he'd come back and tell you whats for.." the kender said as he turned to run back to Tachande. The knight watched as the kender ran back from whence he came," stupid kender and their stories," the knight chuckled. Soon though a report came from the gates that a man was found bleeding severely by the side of the road. The knight ran inside to report to Lord Lanfer of what he just witnessed, as well as summon healers to attend the man being brought to them. Author: Tachande Date: Thu Sep 16 13:57:48 2010 Subject From Mist to Fortune (3) Lord Lanfer looked up from his reports as a knight knocked on the door. "Enter," he said, placing the reports to the side of his desk. "Milord, a man has been brought to us from the road. A kender has spoken to one of our knights out front and said that he was his friend, and the man knew Lord Railen, which is true I don't know," the knight reported. Lanfer ordered the knight to attend to the arrival of the man and to report back when the man regained conciousness. Tachande parried the blow aimed for his chest, the blow being delivered from one of his own men. Reversing the attack, Tachande pushed his blade past the man's guard and speared him through the chest," Hold your ground men," he shouted to his soldiers. He didn't have many left and Lyor fought beside his lord, parrying blows aimed for his friend," you must flee," he pleaded to Tachande. "No," Tachande roared as he fought on against the pressing tide of swords and axes," I will not leave my men." Zanra looked down at the wounded man," he is in bad shape milord," she said to Lanfer, as he too surveyed the man. "Will he survive?" he asked. "Barely," she said as she laid her hands above the wound," by the will of the gods he will survive." Lord Lanfer acknowledged the wisdom of his advisor," the kender spoke of Lord Railen, saying that he knew him." Zanra didn't reply as she was focusing her healing gifts on the wound. Soon, Tachande made his first words as he began to awaken. "He will need rest after this, but you will be able to talk to him," Zanra told Lanfer. Tachande's eyes fluttered open and he began to take in his surroundings. Looking to his right he saw the female cleric and a knight standing, awaiting him. "Who are you?" he spoke to the knights," and where am I?" Author: Tachande Date: Sat Oct 2 03:21:05 2010 Subject A Simple Test (1) I knew there was much tension with me and the men. After all I wasn't one of them. These soldiers and knights are of Solamnia, the order of Light. These men know nothing of me or my homeland, yet I am leading them. With only a handful of men, there was much to do. Somehow I have to earn their trust and show them my worth, but all in do time. While my forces and I were ordered around by Lord Lanfer the thought struck me to issue a challenge of combat. It's simply a bout of prowess, to keep the men's morale high and bets amongst the footsoldiers running. So while we set down in a defensible position for the night I began to arrange the bout. "Soldiers, gather round," I order the men around the Veijerin. Many gave disgusted looks, others simply wondered what was going on. "Here we will duel," I motioned to the circle. "In my land, a warrior's prowess is tested amongst his comrades, in battle and in other ways. Here it is simple, this is a fight of first blood." Walking around the circle, my sword still in scabbard, I motioned for any soldier to enter in the circle," for those who wish to challenge me to combat enter the circle," I said as I took the first step past the white circle. The advisor from Lanfer began to object to such foreign, and barbaric, practices. Yet with a simple look he backed away," these are my men as of now, and I will know their worth." Soon enough, a burly footmen with fiery red hair and thick arms entered the ring, with the cheers of his fellows at his back. "I will take your challenge, outsider," the burly soldier grunted, hoisting his axe from its harness and brandishing his round-shield. I watched as he went through his warm up swings, testing his range and motion. I also noticed a slight stutter when he extended his shield arm to far to the left. I removed my sword from its scabbard and whirled the blade in a tight arc up and down, adjusting the grip on my shield. I clenched my hand, testing the leather grip on the inside of the shield. When all was checked and prepared the red haired warrior wasted no time in initiating the first strike. A simple enough swing, followed by a timed bash from his shield. Being smaller than he, I dodged to the left out of the swing from his axe, and parried his bash with my shield. The fangs from the front of my shield caught on the bass of his shield, jerking his arm to the left. Author: Tachande Date: Sun Oct 3 05:30:04 2010 Subject A Simple Test (2) The red headed soldier grunted as the his shoulder strained against my counter, yet it did not cease his renewed attack as he followed it with a wild swing from his axe. Dodging the poorly aimed blow, I duck down and bring my sword forward, angled to deflect the axe onto my shield and inflict first blood onto the over zealous warrior. To my suprise, however, the soldier back stepped my lunge and took a few steps to his left," you will have to do better than that, barbarian," the soldier spat as he readied himself for another attack. I looked from him to the ring of soldiers surrounding us now, many placing bets and wagers against or for who they believed would win. "Do you see this scar," I motion with my blade to the scar running from my brow into my hair," I got this from a minotaur in Neraka." Several men blanched at the mention of the bull warriors," and yet here I still live." The warrior chuckled and began his advance," it does not matter what you have fought, or how many times you survived, you will lose here." This soldier was too eager, I finally decided. The next swing aimed for my shield I rolled, followed by a quick jab with my sword, catching the warrior across his forearm. "First Blood," I shouted to the warriors around. Though I intentionally turned my back to the outraged warrior, I was not suprised when I heard the roar from the burly soldier, nor hear some soldiers cheer as the soldier went for my head. Turning round, I kneel down with my shield out, taking the man in the midriff. Following his upward momentum, I shift backward, launching the confused warrior behind me, dumping him unceremoniously into a heap at the feet of his comrades. "Yes I did survive," I spoke to those assembled," and I did learn," I say as I wipe the thin line of blood from my sword on the hem of my coat," as I demonstrated, you can use momentum against the mighty, regardless of your size." After my lesson with the burly soldier, many more soldiers gained courage and began to challenge each other in the Veijerin. After many bouts, some of which left many broke or wealthy, I called an end to the competition. "You have learned well this night," I speak to the men," many have learned control, and others..." I motion to those bickering about lost wages," have learned not to be too eager." After I dismissed the men and made my rounds around camp I departed for my tent, my thoughts wandering to Nordmaar and what must be happening after my betrayal forced my true soldiers from their homeland, and their lives. "One day we will be avenged my brothers," I whisper into the chill night," we will have our vengeance." Author: Tachande Date: Fri Oct 16 22:22:38 2015 Subject Lessons in Blood (1)Tachande sat astride a sleek charger, the line of men stretching another twenty yards in loose formation. More raw recruits eager to prove their worth to become auxilaries for the Knighthood. His mind travelling the corridors of memory to his homeland, to the men left there to hamper the red soldiers at any turn, this bunch could use a lesson from his men. After a hard jerk in the saddle from his mount, he called a halt to the march to scan the surrounding area. Patting his horse on the neck he asks," whats got you spooked boy?" He sensed something in the area," formation!" he barks outs as the birds begin to spill out of the forests closest to their path. The men quickly formed into ranks, a total of thirty men in total, shields locked, spearmen eagerly gripping the shafts of their weapons. Tachande ordered a slow march, eyeing the treeline wearily as they progressed towards their destination. Smoke was the first sign that the village was under attack, soon the screams and clash of steel slowly filled the forest path as they came closer. "Scout out," Tachande ordered two rangers close at hand, issuing a silent prayer to his patriarch as the men disappeared into the brush. What was meant to be a simple training exercise turned into a crucible of war as the scouts came back telling of goblin kin and men clashing with the villagers. "Fan out and prepare for combat," Tachande ordered, watching as the men fanned out into the trees, leaving a core of ten surrounding Tachande," await my command," he says as he kicks his horse forward, the men closing ranks around him," here comes the bait," he says as a grin crosses his scarred face. The group crosses the last few feet of the forest path and into the gap between woodland and the outskirts of the village, the first few corpses littering the ground, horse tracks all around. "What do we have here," Tachande shouts out, gaining the attention of several men and a hob goblin sitting astride foul mounts, each one glancing at the bigger man amongst them. "None of your business, human," shouted the hobgoblin to the man's left. "But you see, this is my business filth," Tachande retorts, his hand pulling free his blackened blade," for you see this village is under the protection of the Knights of Solamnia, under oath by my comrade, Lord Railen." The hobgoblin snorts in laughter as the big man motions his horse forward locking eyes with Tachande," we care not for the tin can army you serve whelp," he growls through black and broken teeth. "So be it," Tachande says as a blinding flash of light bursts above the group of raiders. The hobgoblin yelped in pain as the light seared his sensitive eyes, the leader roared out to the other men behind looting the village, all charging towards Tachande and his guard. Tachande stifled a grin as the kender's flash powder exploded above his foe, leaving a mental note to thank him later he slowed his advance and waited. The men around him, two veterans and eight recruits, looked foward at the oncoming force, the recruits darting glances back at Tachande. "Fall back," Tachande ordered as the large force of men and goblin filth charged forward, no semblance of order amongst their charge.
Author: Tachande Date: Fri Oct 16 22:50:02 2015 Subject Lessons in Blood (2)The larger force of men and goblin whooped and roared as they barreled towards Tachande and his men, their weapons glinting red in the midday sun. Slowly Tachande and his men fell back onto the woodland path, careful as to not make the enemy detect the slaughter to come. "Hold," Tachande roared out, the veterans guiding the recruits beside them to muster their resolve. Arching his back in the saddle, Tachande loosened his neck with a loud crack and kicked his horse forward, charging past his stunned men. "What in the hell is he doing," one veteran shouted to his comrade. The other shrugged and braced his shoulder again his shield," he knows what hes doing." Tachande rushed towards the foe, some mounted while others ran on foot, goading his horse even faster as he closed with the band. At the last second he cut the reins sharply, barely dodging the lead horsemens blades, lining himself up to plunge into the woods. The horsemen of the group turned their mounts and charged after him howling for blood, while the others on foot charged towards the ten blocking the path. "Shit," screamed one recruit as he saw Tachande disappear into the foliage," were doomed," he cried out as his leader vanished. "Have faith rook," one veteran grunted as the first axe came cracking into his planted shield. With the horsemen pursuing Tachande the ground force struck against the braced against the ten men Tachande had left, quickly circling them. With the roars in goblin tongue and common filling the air, none heard the screams of the dying cavalry as the ambush was sprung. ------- Tachande stopped his mount as he vanished into the foliage, just past the initial thick brush and to the shadows of a fallen great tree. "Now," he roared to the men ready, spears leveled to await the foolish foe's charge. As the pursuing cavalry burst through the foliage, the spearmen thrust forward, skewering the lead horsemen and their helpless mounts. A few javelins flew into the remnants as the last horsemen plunged into the woods. Tachande charged forward, decapitating the big man he believed to be the leader with a quick slice of his blade. Turning in his saddle, he slashes another across his exposed back and ribs, as his spearmen step forward to finish the trap with their blades. ------- The ten men formed up, completely encircled, mustering their courage as the rest of the infantry blindy beat against their shields. One recruit screamed as a axe crashed overhead, plunging in to crush his shoulder, his shield arm dropping with the blow. The veteran to his right crumpled under the press and fell back, blindly swiping his sword to fend off a trio of goblin blades. ------- "Charge," Tachande roared out to his men as he cleared the brush, quickly surveying the carnage on the path. Sword and spear charged from the brush, crashing into the back of the mob surrounding the ten. From the other side, the other mounted force burst from their hiding, charging into to complete the circle around the mob of goblin and man. After several heartbeats of battle the screams of the dying were the only noise besides the movement of Tachande and his band. He lost few, those wounded would be taken back for treatment. "Now your blades have tasted battle," Tachande says callously to the men looking up to him," tasted the fear and stink," he motions to the dead surrounding the group," this, this is what you have chosen." Several men glanced to one another, others roared, raising their bloodied blades in the air in salute to Tachande. Tachande grinned at the men, then set his eyes on the village ahead," secure and aid those who still live," he motions to a courier off to the side," send word to Lord Railen of what has happened." The courier charged off, the men marching ahead to aid the survivors. ------
Author: Tachande Date: Sun Oct 25 22:34:35 2015 Subject Convergence (1)Tachande slowed the horse as he approached the gates of Solanthus, his men encamped miles behind," so it begins," he says to himself. "Halt and be recognized," one of the guards order. Tachande looked down at the man, noticing his grip on the haft of his spear," I am Tachande, Warlord of Nordmaar, and I have been summoned by your lord, get out of my way." The man took a step back," tall claims stranger," eyeing Tachande's scarred gear, particularly his black blade hanging from his hip," prove it." Tachande drew forth the missive delivered to him back in his homeland," this is his seal is it not," he says, tossing the missive to the guardsmen. The guard scanned the parchment and checked the seal," enter then stranger, but we will be watching you." Without a word he ushers his mount forward, his horse taking a bite of the guard as it walked past. The guard gave a yelp and started to advance till a warning hand landed on his shoulder," I wouldn't if I were you," the knight says as the guard spins, ready to strike. The guard froze saying," sorry sir," as he took a step back to his post," my apologies." The knight took a few steps and caught up to Tachande," you have an interesting way of introducing yourself to our lands, Nordmaarian," he says with a chuckle. Tachande looked at the greying knight," it pays to gauge a man's steel," he says as he continued forward. The knight chuckled," so it does lad, so it does." The knight continued to walk with Tachande," may I have your name stranger," he asks, his stride keeping pace with Tachande. "Did you not hear it," Tachande says, scanning around as he continues towards the the chapel, the eyes of citizens and travellers alike weary of the man. "It never hurts to show friendship either lad," the knight says," I am Lord Mael." "I am known as Tachande," the nordmaarian says, rounding the corner as a patrol passes escorting a throng of kender. Lord Mael nods and slows his pace," perhaps we meet again Tachande," he says with a nod of his head as he turns away, heading east, off to his own affairs.
Author: Tachande Date: Sun Oct 25 22:54:35 2015 Subject Convergence (2)Tachande hands the reins of his horse to a stableboy and turns about, heading towards the stone stair," my lord awaits," a page says bowing. The Nordmaarian follows the boy through the keep, eyes constantly on the shadows within. After a few minutes of walking he is led to a strong banded door, with a knock he is bid to enter. "Hello my friend," Lord Railen says as Tachande enters the chapel. Tachande scans the room and approaches Railen," to you as well." Lord Railen stands by the altar, incense smoke rising in the candle lit chapel," we have matters to attend to, hence my summons." Tachande walks over to study the shrine to Kiri-Jolith, his patron," grim news I bear from Nordmaar." Lord Railen nods," grim tidings all around it seems," adding another block to the flame," what force have you now at your command?" Tachande looks back to his friend," naught but fifty now, the bastards caught up to us, with the help of a traitor, and slew the bulk of my men." Lord Railen grimaced at the news," I had hopes that you had more," he says with dismay edging in his voice. "They are the survivors, those with real skill, true Nordmaarian sons." Tachande walked back towards Railen, looking around the interior of the chapel," their worth has been paid in blood," he says, uttering a pray to Kiri in Nordmaarian for the souls of his dead. "What did you want to discuss with me," he asks Railen. Railen looked from the altar to Tachande," what I am about to ask you hasn't been done in our records," he says as he turns to face Tachande," will your forsake your title as Warlord, and your holding in Nordmaar, to serve our cause, the cause of the Gods of Light, to become a Knight of Solamnia." Railen steps towards Tachande," to fight our enemies, to use your knowledge of their tactics and soldiers to strike fear into their hearts," he says, voice rising in the solitary chapel. Tachande looked back to the shrine of Kiri-Jolith," aye, I will." Lord Railen motions Tachande forward, drawing his weapon," kneel," he commands. Tachande kneels before Railen, swearing to the gods, the oath, and the measure. "Arise a Knight," Railen orders.
Author: Tachande Date: Sun Oct 25 23:18:35 2015 Subject Convergence (3)Tachande takes the reigns of his horse from the stableboy's hand, leading it towards the gate, his mind calculating the plans and logistics discussed with Lord Railen after his knighting. Mounting his horse, he departs the keep and heads down the crowded streets, scanning his surroundings. "Looks like your lost again," says a squeeky voice off to the side, belonging to a kender in a outlandish display of color," your always losing yourself," he says with a chuckle. Tachande stops his mount and dismounts, leading his horse towards the kender," good to see you my friend," Tachande says with a laugh. "So you do laugh," the kender beams," find anything interesing back in your homeland?" he says, eyeing the saddlebags of Tachande's horse. Tachande blocks the kender's gaze," some," he says with mirth, unslinging his bone shield from his back. The kender's eyes go wide as he sees the banded skull shield," wow," he exclaims. Tachande chuckles," yes, though it was a right bastard to kill," he says showing a new scar across his jaw, its gnarled line gauging into the bone of his jaw. " I do have something for you though, in exchange for more of that interesting flash powder you find," he says, emphasising find. The kender grins and grabs a sac from within his many pouches," what did you find," he beams. Tachande turns back to his horse and pulls forth a knucklebone from the beast that makes up his shield," this my friend," he says, turning back to the kender. The kender squeals as Tachande tosses him the bone, grunting as the large bone thumps into his chest," thank you," he exclaims! Tachande picks up the dropped sack and pulls open the bag, counting out the small pouches of powder within," you've found a good supply I see," he says as he closes the sack and puts it within one of the saddlebags. The kender glances away from the bone," yes, the gnome keeps losing those crates, I try telling him he needs to tie them off but he never listens." Tachande grins and remounts his horse," where shall you go now my friend," he says to the kender as he settles in the saddle. The kender opens up his biggest pouch and dumps the bone inside, setting off a small smoke cloud from the contents within," wherever the road takes me, and these feet too," he chuckles, displaying his bright blue shoes. "Farewell then my friend, you still have the stone," Tachande asks. The kender nods, grabbing the stone out of yet another large pouch, this one decorated in yellow flowers," yup, right here." Tachande nods and flicks the reins slowly," then we shall speak again soon friend, farewell." The kender puts the stone back and dashes off, to the suprise of the guard slowly creeping up behind him," halt thief," the guard roars, quickly running off after the bouncing topknot thats quickly disappearing into the crowd. Tachande watches with a grin that begins to fade as more urgent matters press once again on his mind. Riding out from the gates, he heads back to the camp his men had set. After arriving back at camp, he hands off the horse and enters his command tent, quickly writing out a missive after settling back in. Dashing sand across the parchment to quickly dry it, he slides the parchment into a small cylinder. Walking out of his tent, he strides over to one of the hunters in his company, handing the missive to be attached to one of the carrier birds in their care. "Time is running out," Tachande growls into quiet of his tent, thinking back to the betrayal of his force in Nordmaar. "Your time will end," he continues, pulling forth his blackened blade and drawing the whetstone down its length.
Author: Tachande Date: Wed Nov 4 16:06:54 2015 Subject Setting of the Guard[FWD Note] - [124] Tachande: Setting of the Guard [FWD Date] - Wed Nov 4 16:00:09 2015 [FWD To ] - to [Original to:] Tachande [FWD List] - story Tachande walked through the compound, catching the gaze of his Nordmen as he walked towards the Quartermaster. "How goes my men's gear," Tachande asks the solamnic. "As well as can be sir," the quartermaster waves his hand over to the men of Nordmaar," but they are a stubborn lot, most only want weapons." Tachande grins," aye, but they know what is best for them," he motions to one burly man, repairing his torn cloak," they are the survivors from my war in Nordmaar, their skill knows their worth." The quartermaster lets out a puff of air and stomps off," then I will find their weapons if I can." Tachande laughs at the frustration of the man," be sure that you do," he says as he turns about and walks over to a knot of his men," how fairs your repair," he says to a elder Nordman. The elder turns to Tachande," so far so good, would be better if that pompous ass would cooperate instead of order us around." Tachande nods and laughs," the way of the knights is not something you are used to." Tachande left his men to their tasts and headed for the entrance of the compound, to further explore the city. when a page came running through the gates," Sir Tachande, you have been summoned." Tachande looks to the boy," by whom?" The boy gulps in air and squeaks out," by Lord Railen." Tachande nods and walks past the huffing boy, heeding his friend's call.
The Storytellers of Ansalon, The DragonLance MUD
Astinus points to the massive wall of books behind him and bids you to make a selection.
Authors: All|A|B|C|D|E|F|G|H|I|J|K|L|M|N|O|P|Q|R|S|T|U|V|W|X|Y|Z