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 is at 65. You change? 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 a private journal on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Tachande' scribed in dull 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
Astinus mentions 'We have had over 868 storytellers on Ansalon
pen their epic stories here for all to read.'
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