Fantasy (Iffy x Fluffy) The Princess and the Vulture

[iFreedawg]

Black tents with silver motifs pitched in long orderly rows on a massive grass field. This was the Dragons camp – the heart of the Allstar empires war efforts. On trodden paths between rows of tents, soldiers walked to and fro. In one open area, a single instructor stood before rows of bare-chested men. He shouted some nonsense, took a few stances, then punched viciously from his waist. Black power welled out of his arm as it became twice its size and grew glistening scales and vicious claws.
The instructors fluttering loose robe hang at his waist and on it, one could see an emblem billow in the wind. It resembled a large silver star entwined in a majestic winged dragon. This was the emblem of the Dragons wing – the first wing of the army and the guardians of the emperor.

Meanwhile, in the very center of military encampment was a particularly grand black tent, embodied with silvery stars and dragons. Inside of the tent the atmosphere was Stiff. Many men and a few women were seated around the long table, yet no one spoke a word.
At one end of the table sat a middle aged man. His baring was regal and his eyes carried the depth of responsibility, but his hair was thin and his complexion weak. The expression, one foot in the grave, was a suitable description. This man was the sovereign of the Allstar Empire, emperor Carolus Windsor.

Next to the emperor sat a young woman whose face shared some of his features. Across the long rectangular table, on the other side of the tent, stood another girl. Every gaze in the room was welded onto her face.
“Princess Eriana.”
General Pastore’s deep and emotionless voice called out from the long side of the table. He was an elegant and sharp-looking man with black hair and black eyes.
“…You’ve received your orders, so why are you still here? Or is it that you can’t remember them? Very well, it can’t be helped. I’ll repeat them for you. You are to size command of the thirteenth wing and mobilize the forces to retake the territory we lost to the orcs and their allies. Here is your proof of authority.“
A neat servant approached Eriana, delivering a letter to her.
“This letter also contains the details of your mission. Don’t lose it.”
The room fell silent as though everyone was expecting the woman to speak.

Meanwhile the Emperor masked a pained expression.
Yes... I am sending my daughter to her death.
It wasn’t a mission with the risk of death. Death was the purpose of the mission. The Emperor did not have much time left, so in order to allow her talented sister to inherit the throne, Eriana had to disappear. The emperor knew this very well – and it pained his heart.
Yet what could he do but silently grieve?
War was upon them and he needed the support of the generals. He only directly controlled 25% of the imperial army.
His eyes darkened with determination.
What is the right thing to do?
It is to win. The losers will perish so therefore victory must be attained.
Everything will be cast aside for this cause.
Even my own daughter.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” General Pastore’s voice resounded in the room again.
“You’ve got your orders. Why are you still here?”

 

[wendy]

Imagine being told all your life you are going to be something great. Imagine all your life that you are told by everyone around you that you are special. Imagine being told you are the heir the greatest kingdom on the Greatplate continent. Now imagine that is all snatched away from you because of one person.

Humiliation was all that Eriana felt, a deep deep humiliation of being sent to her own death to make way for her sister. Eriana stood in the centre of the large black tent in front of the jury who was deciding her fate. Among the jury sat her father but she couldn’t bare to lock eyes with him, Eriana didn’t even consider him her father in this moment as he was sending her to her death just to protect his empire.

General Pastore, a rather stern man who had no interest in anything except for winning this war spoke to her like one of his soldiers not as the princess she was. The orders were clear cut and simple to follow but Eriana, it was a perfect plan to make her disappear without having to kill her directly. “I understand.” Eriana says her voice barely making it to the ears of the general. The young women was presented with a scroll and a envelope containing the verification of her authority and the task she had been set. The curt general has no sympathy for the Princess but them again Eriana wasn’t event sure if he felt emotions. “I understand, I shall be going now.” Eriana says as she looked at the scroll in her hand and the enevelope then looking to her father with pained eyes and she knew this would be the last time she saw him and then turned her back on them and exited the tent the only emotion she felt was pain, like someone had struck a red hot poker straight through her heart.


It had only been a few hours since the announcement but the news had spread throughout the camp like wildfire. Many agreed with the decision to send the princess to her death with only a handful feeling sorry for the eldest Princess but their was no more time to feel sorry for her as she was leaving for the 13th wing.

Eriana sat in a crowded wooden carriage barely able to move an inch due to the amount of people that had been forced into the carriage but a soldier had given up his seat for seat which she was grateful for. Eriana’s eyes were fixed on her hands as in them she held the scroll and envelope, she was holding them so tight then her knuckles had turned white and a light sheen of sweat coated her hands. The young princess really looked out of place as the carriage was crowded with extremely strong looking men and women who all looked rough around the edges but Eriana was the smallest out of all of them looking like a lamb among lions.

Beside the young princess sat a rather peculiar looking soldier as his white hair made him also stick out like a sore thumb but it was in some way comforting to sit beside someone who also didn’t look like they belong but in all truths the white haired man looked the most intimidating g out of all the soldiers as so Eriana just sat quietly doing her not to annoy him in any way possible. ​

 

[iFreedawg]

In the Carriage, around 20 brawny figures competed for space. Some looked rough, some looked broken while others simply looked strong. Yet most of these people had a strange bright gleam in their eyes. Excitement. A year ago, the men and women in this Carriage would not be nearly as excited. Back then, the Vulture's wing gave fresh air and a tiny shred of hope in exchange for a threat of almost certain death.
But now, things were different. You see, the current Vultures wing had no official general, but everyone knew the name of the man who ran it. Onir the Vulture. Everyone also knew that the Vulture had never lost a battle, it was the most successful wing of the army. The vultures wing had become a place that turned criminals into heroes. In the eyes of these people for whom the universe spared no quarters, simply being on this carriage, they felt like real winners. And god knows, these people hadn’t won anything else in a very, very long time. Eriana's stiff face turned quite the contrast to the rest of the crowd.
“You seem awfully tense. We’re going to a pretty good place, you know.” Said a smooth voice.
The white haired man seated next to Eriana suddenly exclaimed, turning to face her. He smiled at her in a light and easygoing manner. It was to quite the contrast to his neutral expression which was fairly intimidating.

 

[wendy]

The carriage was slowly making progress to where ever they were going but the road was already becoming rough as the carriage was jolting around from time to time as they passed over the rough roads onwards to the unknown destination.

Eriana’s train of thought was interrupted when she heard someone break to tense silence that filled the carriage. She looked up looking around for the person who was talking and it turned out it was the man who sat next to her and he was in fact directing his conversation at her. If Eriana would of been at home or in her tent she would of politely answered the man that sat beside her but now she had no expectation to live up too. She was actually free to speak how she wanted too whom she wanted with thinking of her words.

“What does it matter where we are going if we’re all going to die.” Eriana says her tone dull as she didn’t even look at the man but instead she just tucked a piece of stray brown hair behind her ear. “Nothing matters anymore.” Eriana spoke putting her head back to rest it on the hard wooden side of the carriage as she let out a deep sigh. “Nothing matters anymore.” She spoke as all she could think about was that she was a deadman walking.​

 

[iFreedawg]

The man frowned for a moment, and he didn't respond. Instead he shrugged and returned to silence.
Time passed. Eventually the carriage came to a stop. The doors opened and the world revealed itself through that rectangular hole. Two stiff and scarred faces, and beyond them, rolling hills with sparse broad-leaf trees bathing on the sunset. Going to work on these trees was a group of 35 bald and bare-chested men. Sweat rolled down their backs as they swung their axes, gradually deforested the hills and carrying the meter-thick logs back toward the camp. Their shed robes hung at their waists, the emblem of a Vulture looking up at a star swaying to their explosive motions.
Eriana and the rest of recruits were led out of the Carriage by the two soldiers. They started walking down a gravel road, their footsteps making raspy noises. Quite the distance away, on the flattest place around, lay a military encampment. Enclosed in wooden fences, under the shadows of watchtowers – there it stood. The Vultures wing.
The atmosphere here was strange.
The soldiers, the bald lumberjacks, no one had showed a trace of joy on their faces. It looked as though they were submerged in utter devotion.

The white haired man stood out once again. He stepped past Eriana went up to the two soldiers leading the way. The three formed a tight group and whispered among themselves. Everyone had to stop in their tracks as the trio talked. Then they nodded to each other as though forming an agreement.
The white haired man walked back to Eriana.
“My name is Oscar, and you are not going to the same place as the rest of the rabble. It is my task to deliver you to the boss. Come with me Princess Windsor.”

Nearby, beyond some hills, yet not too far from the road, two men stood facing a very big boulder. One was large, intimidating and impressive. He was much like the lumberjacks on the rolling hills, and the soldiers leading the recruits toward the gates of Vultures camp. The other was short and gaunt, his clothes and hair - both black - disordered and unclean. This was the man they called the Vulture.

 

[wendy]

Being sat in the carriage for so long Eriana’s eyes had grown accustom to the dark conditions but as soon as the carriage doors were pulled open Eriana cringed as the striking day light caused a sharp shooting pain in her forehead.

Eriana simply went with the flow as she jumped out of the back of the carriage following the rest of the people looking around sheepishly avoiding eye contact with anyone as she wanted to stay out of trouble. So this place was the vultures wing, a place where criminals fought for nothing except for themselves and their own freedom. It was actually quite a good tactic but rarely any one would actually gain their freedom even if they fought like hell for their empire.

Eriana’s train of thought was interrupted when she heard someone speaking to her and she looked up seeing the grey eyed man speaking to her. “Yes.” Was all Eriana could manage to get out as she followed the grey haired man. He look large long strides causing Eriana to have to jog every few paces just to keep up with him but soon they arrived at their destination.

A large boulder with two men facing it, Eriana’s throat became dry as her eyes landed on the disorganised black figure that stood facing the boulder. He was the vulture, the leader of the vultures wing. Eriana gripped the scroll tighter as she could barely breath at this moment everything was just too over whelming. Having her identity snatched away, having the throne stolen from her, being sent to die among criminals and maybe a touch of dehydration caused the young princess fall to the ground like a rock but the scroll was still held tightly in her small hand.​

 

[iFreedawg]

Onir the Vulture was in the middle of lecturing the poor fella beside him.
“All right. The next step is to picture the energy extending from the bones of your fingers, like… the waters from a fountain. It has to be just the right length. It’s a good idea to choose something that's of the right size and is familiar to you and remember the sensation of grasping it between your fingers. Like say the holy book of Kali, a foodstick or for you perhaps, a woman’s neck. Got it?”
“Yes boss!”
“Mm, that’s good.”
This one is very enthusiastic. Onir thought observing the bald man standing two head's taller then himself. This was an elite soldier of vulture’s camp – one of those who’d managed to survive from the time before Onir arrived. The elites were all bald - Onir had made it so. But their scalps all glistened differently.
…just like the stars. Huh.
“Good. Then don’t disappoint me. Cut the rock, start by making 20x20 cm incisions. Here’s the guide, It will keep the cut straight. All you have to do is worry about the length of your blade.”
Onir handed over a 20x20 metal square, resembling a cookie cutter.
“Now do it.” Onir ordered.
Sweat formed on the bald man’s brow, his eyes narrowed and his tongue swirled in his mouth. After a long breath out, he was just about to start cutting the rock when...
*Thud.*
A soft noise resounded behind them.

Onir the Vulture turned around.
“Who’s this.” He asked, unimpressed.
“This is the princess.” Oscar answered and shuffled back and forth, trying to uphold an aura of carefreeness. In reality he was very nervous. Boss had a special temper.
“And? What did you do to this princess.” Onir asked.
Sweat drew thin lines down Oscar’s cheek.
“Boss, I…I didn’t do anything. She just fainted.”
“On her own? Just like that?” Onir raised an eyebrow.
“…just like that.” Oscar nodded.
The men looked at each other for a few moments. Oscar didn't know what to say, he really was innocent.
“In that case you did a good job. You deserve a treat, come here Oscar, let me help you grow a little.”
Out of a pocket in his robes, Onir extracted a few black needles. When Oscar spotted them alarm instantly exploded from his irises.
“Wa- wait boss. L-Let’s talk about this…”
“Don’t humble yourself. I’m rewarding you – this will make you stronger.”
“I..I don’t need it!”
“Oh, but you can’t seem to complete my orders as you are now. I told you to take the princess to me unharmed. You call this unharmed?" he pointed at the unconscious princess.
"We’ve known each other for almost a year now, you should know my stance Oscar; Failure is fine, but only if you are willing to better yourself. Attitude is everything you see…”
He held a needle between his index and his thumb. .
"Let me help you better yourself Oscar."
The needle glistened wickedly.

Half an hour later.
Onir tossed the Princess over his left shoulder and walked toward's the edge of the forest. Behind him was Oscar, feet firmly on the ground planted hip-with apart, knees deeply bent and splayed. His hands were held together at the heart. It might’ve looked like a yoga or martial arts stance - if it wasn't for the roaring fierceness that burned in his bloodshot eyes. His breathing was ragged like a cornered animals and the veins of his toned muscles were bulging and rippling. His jaw was clenched absolutely shut and his whole body shook intensely as if under immense strain.
In various places all over Oscar's body, thin black needle heads protruded.

A few minutes later the vulture stood on a grassy hill at sunset, looking out at his encampment. Princess Eriana was folded over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. They were far from striking the glorious image of a hero carrying a fair maiden, in fact these two people were just about the same size. The handsome Oscar would've played a far more believable hero. Onir's shoulders looked ill-suited for maidens, and his eyes were far too tired and dull to inspire any sort of heroism. Bet even a man like the Vulture could gaze meaningfully at the horizon and think quietly to himself.
Soon…They are coming.
But I’ve prepared well. We should be ready.
And If I survive… I’ve found myself another tool.
His hand slowly fiddled the fingers of the princess that hung loosely by his side.
My odds keep improving
"hehe."
A muffled laughter escaped his lips for no-one to hear, on a hillside, in autumn, at sunset.
...
…
…

A massive figure dressed in black robes adorned with black feathers tiptoed inside a tent. The tent was far too small to house him, so he had to hunch over. His white thick face was painted with black warpaint and his eyes glowed red in the dark. His name was Faza.
Faza rummaged through the drawers to the best of his ability. It wasn’t easy for an Amari to open human furniture, and even harder was doing so quietly. After all, while the Amari looked similar to humans, they were over three meters tall and burly to boot. What didn’t help either was that Faza’s hands were shaking. The tension was killing him. You see, Faza was hardly suited for these kind of nerve-wrecking missions and the only reason he had been included in the operation was his spirit: The void tongued viper.
This talent of his had placed him inside in the very heart of the enemy - The tent of the Vulture himself. But the vulture wasn't here, instead, laying wrapped in blankets sleeping on the hard floor, was a woman.
No vulture...Why no vulture? And why's there a woman in the Vultures tent? Faza's mind rambled.
It's like that huh. Even a great person like the Vulture would have needs...But Faza was surprised. There was very little fortune in the vultures tent. Faza had seen many great humans houses but none of those humans were as great as the Vulture. Even in homes of humans that the Amari considered trash, there would be more fortune then in the Vulture tent.
Well. At least he has a woman. Faza's mind rambled. It would do that a lot when he was nervous.
Whatever the case, Vulture or no vulture, behind enemy lines was the last place a nervous wreck like Faza wanted to be.
A genius
They said.
You will win us the war!
They said.
We’re all counting on you.
They said.
Bring back any clues on the Vulture's poisons so we can prepare anti-dotes. Should you spot the vulture himself, kill him. Even if you die, you have to kill him. Should the Vulture pass, the humans northern front will crumble and victory will be ours.
...Ah but what about the orcs?
We deal with them later. First, defeat the Vulture.
But what if...
Faza's thoughts digressed quite a bit. Anway, that was what the Amari elders had wanted, so they’d sent Faza along with twelve comrades to see it through. But did they ever care about what Faza wanted? Of course not - he was far too talented to have his own opinions.
The void tongued viper spirit not only allowed Faza to teleport but he was also very sensitive to vibrations. He could feel footsteps within a 100 meter radius. He could sense the thickness of walls and the hollowness of enclosed spaces. He could even see heat in the dark.
Infiltrating any city, room, or vault was no problem at all, unless there were serious magical formations protecting it. But he usually use senses to find those formations, and then use his venom to destroy them. After all, his sense of touch was so acute, he could feel the breath of the woman on the blankets sleeping in the tent.
But there was no reason to kill her, Faza the assassin did not like killing. But did they ever care about what Faza liked?
No they did not.
He kept rummaging through the drawers. But there was nothing in them but useless letters..
In the corner of a tent, not far from the head of the sleeping woman, Faza spotted a locked chest. Hunching over, he sneaked over to the chest. He had to step over the woman to get to it, which wasn’t hard considering his legs alone were longer then her whole body. His black figure easily slipped over her. After inspecting the lock, Faza carefully touched it with his hand. A single transparent drop of toxin formed at the tip of his finger.
The moment it touched the lock a quiet but ear grating noise was produces. He panicked and retracted the toxin, and the noise died.
But it might already have been too late.

 

[wendy]

Eriana was semi-conscious as she felt herself being carried as the swaying motion of the person carrying her was like being rocked as a babe as the young princess was soon out of consciousness again.

Eriana stood in the pitch blackness her head feeling heavy as she looked around the blackness but she couldn’t see anything for blackness for miles on end. “Eriana.” A testing voice whispered as the young women whipped her head around the see her father stood there with her sister at his side. “Eriana, why are you such a disappointment?” He spoke and Eriana’s heart broke “You’re so weak that your young sister over took you years ago.” He spoke as Eriana wrapped her arms around herself in some sort of comfort. “You should of never been born.” Her father said as Eriana couldn’t help it at the tears began to fall down her cheeks “So weak.” Her sister added which was the final straw as Eriana collapsed to her knees a pain so great in her heart that she couldn’t bare it anymore and so she began to scream. She screamed until no more noise came from her mouth but instead just a silent cry.


Eriana’s eyes fluttered open taking a second to adjust to her new scenery and the fact that she was now in a tent wrapped up in warm blankets. Eriana heard a noise coming from just above her head as she sat up turning to see where the noise was coming from but the sight she was greeted with was far from what she expected. A tall figure that could barely fit inside the tent as the Princess let out a scream shuffling back from the creature. Eriana’s hand landed on something cold and as she looked down seeing fire poke. Eriana picked it up as she pointed it at the creature “Who are you?!” She demanded but she was giving off all the signs that she was terrified as her breathing was erratic and her heart beat was so loud that someone could probably hear it from outside the tent. “I said WHO ARE YOU?!” She says shouting now as the dream and the current situation was a lot to take in in your first day of being exiled. ​

 

[iFreedawg]

"Aaaii!?" The large black figure emitted a high pitch shriek, jumping, and rattling the whole tent. He staggered back in shock, at first upon the waking of the princess, then he dove forward pinning the girl and putting a hand over her mouth to silence her. A faintly dicernable thread, thin and inconspicous like spiders silk flashed, extending from his lower back. The next moment he grew a long tail, as long as he himself(3 m or around 10 feet).
"Quiet, quiet, quiet..." he hissed in thick accent.