The Cleansing of Eldor [RP]

[Heartsteal]

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The sun beamed in, streaks of gold in the air as they filtered through the glass windows of the high hall. The orc King sat atop his throne of iron, leaning forward in his seat, allowing the light to play across his face, making the sharp green slants of jaw and ear into intimidating gashes amongst the otherwise shadowy form. Glass was an orcish invention, solid like stone or metal, but clear as the air itself. The wonders of their technology would never cease to amaze their pint-sized competitors.


"Now tell me, where have they been hiding?" the giant asked; a human was bloodied and broken, lying beneath the eastern sun's hot rays. The slave had been tortured for days, he was a suspected resistance sympathizer. There had been many of the paleys looking to better their lot, ungrateful for what they'd already been given. If their leader did not surrender himself soon, it would merely worsen the human conditions. He would see to it that they lost the two hour free break they got every day, and reduce their sleeping times to a scant three hours out of the night from their cushy nine. The humans would live on the sleep that orcs did, they would work without breaks. This rebellion has gone on far too long...


"I'll tell you nothing! He will live on, and you will never find him!" the weakling spat, blood dribbling down his chin to mar the otherwise perfect marble floor.


"Well, now we know it's a man. Don't worry fool, we'll have what we want soon," he answered, sneering at his pitiful little information bank.


"Clean the floors, I'd rather not leave this to stain."


Many days went much like this, grand interrogations, public proclamations... The king merely wanted to hold his people's position, it mattered not what it cost outsiders. They could join him, or they could be crushed beneath the iron-shod boots of industry.

 

[Legendless]

Scyra was awoken to a kick. He grunted and squeezed his eyes tighter, turning the other way.


"Hey!"


Scyra let out a cry as he was not only kicked again but flung from his bed. It was not the first time that he had woken up like this but it was not fun. Sighing he stood and saw his boss nearby. He rented a room above the bar he worked at as half-pay for his work. He got some money as well but it was crap and feed as well but not all the time. Still it was a living and he was not under Orc control. The Orcs preferred to stay out of the slum areas if they could but the bar had gotten some Orc people. Scyra stayed out of their way and mostly his boss or Rose an older bartender dealt with them.


"What? What do you want," Scyra asked, annoyed to be woken up. He worked late and so slept late.


"You need to go and get some barrels. We are running out of some things. I got a list for you. I made it real simple so you won't mess it up." Then the boss left the room. Scyra sighed. The list was on his dresser and as he dressed he looked at it. It was hard when he was younger to read things. He could only see half of things but he learned how to manage as he got older. Sighing again he got ready to work.

 

[Darksoul90]

Waiting for his messenger to arrive, Masahiro just patiently stood there. He was waiting right in front of this abandoned street. Since this is the much poorer areas, the Orcs wouldn't fancy on taking a stroll out here. The area had small beams of light that shined on parts of the street. And the street looked.. dead. It looked completely empty, with buildings on the sides of the street, all torn down and abandoned. Masahiro wore a long, black trench coat. As well as wearing a black fedora hat. As if he was heading to a funeral, with such a dark color.


Earlier today, Masahiro had heard of news that one of his rebels were captured. He was very unpleased with this. If the king wanted to get rid of the rebellion, why couldn't he just show up here, in this very street. Alone. Not like that would ever happen anyways. The king knew better than that. To Masahiro, the king was a coward, a fool, an imbecile. But he just shook his head, still waiting for his messenger. Masahiro wondered if his rebel ally broke, and told the king of his existence. But why would this matter to him? Well, at the fact that there were so many damned Orcs who populated most parts of the Orcish empire. And if they knew who Masahiro was, then things would get completely out of hand. So a straight forward approach was stupid. Besides, Masahiro has so many plans in stored for the king. He let out a long sigh, looking around to see if he could even catch a glimpse of his messenger. The man was very late. But as he was ready to turn around and leave, he heard footsteps. The footsteps were close, and sounded louder as they came closer to Masahiro. It was the messenger.


"Master! Master! I have come back with news!" He yelled out, coming to a stop from his running. The man didn't speak for a bit after that, because he was trying to catch his breath. Masahiro placed his hand on the messenger's shoulder. "Speak, have you news of our poor ally?" Masahiro asked, hoping that it wasn't gory news that the messenger had in mind.


"Aye, I have news. Our brethren, tortured.. was just taken into the king's castle. I myself, couldn't get a better view from that point.. but the king.." The messenger trailed off. But he found it easy to get back to the subject. Only, his voice sounded as if it was filled with sorrow. "The king.. that blasted buffoon.. every day he grows impatient. And I am afraid that he will rid our brother from the face of this planet.." He finished, staring down at the ground. This saddened Masahiro, at the fact that his brethren were suffering too much because of this conflict.


"I will try my best to find our brother, and to relieve him and the rest from that horrible king. This, I swear it." Masahiro said, feeling anger coursing through his veins. "But for now I must go. I will regroup with the rest, to see what spark of hope we have left.. But as for you.." He stopped, then reached into his trench coat's pocket. He took out a bag filled with tons of bread, and handed it to the messenger.


"Go, you have served well, brother. Come back to this very spot when ever you have more news. May the gods be with you." Masahiro told the messenger. He then smiled, because the messenger was now filled with joy and hope.


"Gods bless you, Master! I owe you my life for keeping me safe after all these years. We all do. But yes, I shall go. Farewell!" The man said, waving back to Masahiro as he turns to leave. "But wait! Where will you go?" The messenger asked.


"To Bolton, I must inform him of our plans." Masahiro answered. Bolton is Masahiro's best friend. They were friends since their early childhood years. And he was proud to have Bolton in the rebellion. And with this, Masahiro headed out. Bolton lived near a bar, and the man would always hang around there. Although, Masahiro wasn't so fond on meeting Bolton in such a public place. But he had to see him. And the bar wasn't far from his area. So he walked, still thinking about his plans. What if Masahiro left the empire, and traveled to the forests? Maybe he can get the Elven to help him out with this conflict that rages upon the entire Orcish empire. There were so many things that he had in mind, but he just wasn't sure if he can go off with such a task. But this was for the sake of his people, and for the sake of all the other species who were under the rule of the Orcs.


He finally made it to the bar, and before he opened the door, Masahiro covered his face with a mask. He could see through it, obviously. But it helped him get around the city, because many Orcs would think that he has an infection that crawled around on his face. So they wouldn't talk to him. Besides, he did not seem suspicious, for some of the poorer humans dressed up like he did. So to all the Orcs, he was just some poor runt. He opened the door, and was quickly able to notice Bolton, whom was sitting on a stool near the bartender. Masahiro walked over to Bolton, and stood right beside him. And as he waited there, Bolton asked the bartender if he could get two drinks. After he asked, the bartender gave him the drinks. Bolton handed one to Masahiro, placed a bag of money on the bartender's hand, and stood up from his chair to leave. Masahiro followed, and they both made it outside. They walked over to Bolton's house, which was right beside the bar. And as they got in, Bolton shut the door and took a seat. "Don't be a stranger, Masahiro! Here, take a seat. Lets have a drink and share some information." He said, taking a sip from his drink. Masahiro sat down on his chair, right in front of Bolton.


"Well.. where do I start." Masahiro said, trying to search for something to talk about first as he stares down at his drink.

 

[Legendless]

Scyra exited the small room he used. He was wearing his street clothes and not his uniform as he wouldn't be working til later. His black pants were dirty and torn at the bottom covering the tops of his boots. His boots were pretty stratched up but beside that they were good. He wore a light dark blue sweater and his brown leather jacket the only thing that remained from his old life. A customer had left it behind and Scyra had claimed it and kept it when he fleed.


The man walked into the main room and waved to the bartender working. He spotted a usual customer with another man and was tempted to say hi. But the other man unnerved Scyra. He watched them for a bit, stumbling into a nearby table he did not see.


"Damn!"


A few people looked at him. He could feel thoughts just barely out of his range buzzing about. Scyra could sense thoughts in a manner but if he did not try and hear them it did not matter. He had a flash of the man with Bolton talking to someone but it was dark and all he saw was the man looking angry and tired and frustrated. He was tempted to read this thoughts but he hurried on out the door.


----


"Tor."


The girl looked up from where she was. She was taking care of her mistress's laundry at the moment, hanging it up to dry. She turned to see a younger girl standing on the other side of the fence. The girl, Lanya, waved at her with a smile.


"Lanya. Going shopping or something?"


The girl nodded. "Yes. My master is far too lazy and important to go pick up his orders by himself so I must do it."


Tor nodded in understanding. Her master was kind of old and he would send the girl everywhere and made her do almost everything. Tor always saw her tired or out of breath. She felt sorry for her knowing what it was like. Except that Lanya had never shared her master's bed or if she did the young girl did not speak of it. She hoped it was not. She liked Lanya too much for her to go through that.


"I just wanted to say hi."


"Have a good day Lanya."


"You too Tor."

 

[Song]

Archon, or Ash as he was called and rather liked to be called, was drawing another rune above his broken bone. Again. This was the third time this week and the bone, he fear, would soon stop accepting the rune magic. He shook his head, flexing his leg and putting weight on it; least it held. He had errands he was told to run and he was already behind. But that didn't mean he wouldn't stop at the tavern. He had some money, stolen of course, and he needed a drink after a break like that. The bartender knew him, and didn't ask questions when he came by, so he willingly took the chance to go almost every other day.


He walked out of the two story mansion, with a slight limp, glancing in the yard before going out of the gate. Across the street, Tor, was hanging laundry and Lanya had just finished talking. Might as well throw in a hello too. He limped over to the fence, waving lightly, "Mornin' Tor."

 

[Kagura]

A short pause…


The forestry around her was silent, the huge maples, poplars, oaks, sycamores and redwoods all but standing next to their brethren. Sounds of the river nearby made her swallow and she looked up at the foliage covering her, making the recess she stood, dark. Taking a few steps on the mossy ground, and avoiding a bush she knew all too well as poison ivy now, she let her heart beat come to a lull and her breathing back to rhythmic. Blue eyes scanned the trees that took up the horizon once again and she rubbed her left shoulder slightly.


It seemed the energy was slightly depleting from the days she started off as a dryad, but it might be her worriment talking. That or the slight need she had to check the sequoia tree she knew laid just through the Montezuma cypress trees down by the grove. N’hoffei was its name and although the redhead boasted her dexterity at climbing, she was no match for both the wide trunk and impossible height.


With that note in mind she started climbing a hickory tree, although it was not the tallest tree by far, it certainly gave her a better view. When she got as far as she could go, her eyes peered into the bushes again and she felt a smirk pull at her face upon seeing no one. Then again, there usually wasn’t anything around these parts of the forest…


With gravity in her favor, the dryad moved her way down from the hickory pecan tree and looked around once more before taking off down a route she had planned in her head. It was not ‘the usual route’ as leaving a worn trail would only mean bad news for the camaraderie. The girl’s route changed every day, and she even switched lookouts between those routes, leaving to no leaf disturbed or pebble touched. In any way that was detectable for an orc at least… she often had an inkling of people in her immediate landscape.


Once the red head emerged from the tight squeeze around a Banyan trees many ‘vines’, she finally came upon the orchard of her people. Now that she was done with her route, she would have to report in with one of the elders. Once again, the forest was free of orcs for today, but the out skirting areas only held bad news for the tribe. They were starting to drive their way in, cutting down trees as their village grew; she didn’t even have to watch to know how it felt.


The girl approached the circle cautiously, getting down on her knees to bow before them and wait to be called on.


“Pabla?” the elder inquired, and the girl lifted her head to the first notion of her name.

 

[Legendless]

Tor, having started to return to her work, was startled by another person calling out her slave name and started a little. She reattached the shirt she had pulled down to the line and turned to address the speaker. She was happy for the distraction of conversation. Talking to non-Orcs helped her not to think of them, but she knew it she spoke too long she would be in trouble. Tor did not want to think of what her punishment would be this time.


"Ah Ash. Morning to you too. How are you today?"

 

[Song]

"Could be better, master broke my leg again this morning." Archon said, pointing to the slowly fading rune on his leg. "But how about you? You doing alright?" He knew that her owner made her sleep with him. It wasn't what he liked, and he hated that she went through that, but what could slaves do? Sure, Archon was defiant himself, but he could get away with it being male. It was also why he had broken bones most times instead of other things.


He glanced up the street, where orcs and humans milled about, going about their days. He hated this place, hated it with a passion, but again, what could he do? He fought as best he could, whenever the oppourtunity arose, but it wasn't like he was exactly industructable, and his runes only went so far. He looked back at Tor, waiting on an answer.

 

[Legendless]

"I am doing okay this morning," she said with a small smile. By that she meant she had woken up in her own bed this time. Her master was too drunk to do anything last night and the girl was getting better at avoiding him when she needed to. She had wondered why her Mistress had let her sleep with her husband but that was until she learned that she would share her bed too, though only rarely. That was something Tor told no one and no one beside herself and her Mistress knew.


"Are you going to be okay?" She knew it was not the first time it had happened, but she had such few friends among the other slaves and she valued them. Tor use to imagine a life without the Orcs and what it would mean. Many a times Tor saw herself wedded to Ash. He was such a dear friend and he would have made a good husband. She was sure of that. "I would hate to see you go cripple."

 

[Seren]

It was raining again.


Sia' tel liked the rain, and the patterns it made as it ran down the glass.


Today was not a good day, and it helped distract her from the constant jumping of her thoughts- and the stabs of pain they brought.


She sensed Malver before he entered the room, and reluctantly bought herself back to reality, laying face down and breathing deeply to suggest a heavy sleep.


Malver was Drak' yhart's second favourite slave, after her, his near constant reporting of minor failings in the others having earned him a degree of autonomy-


As well as giving The Master an excuse to vent his seemingly inexhaustible supply of rage.


"Sia. Wake up. I have food for you, as well as your medicine" he stated, a careful blankness in his voice.


He hated her for being Drak' yharts favourite. "The songbird" he called her.


She rolled over, and saw him standing by the door, a filled burlap sack in hand.


"Whats that?" She asked.


Normally Malver would leave a food by the cage, and leave as soon as possible- He claimed the smell of the perfume The Master made her wear made him ill.


He grinned.


"Your food, enough to last a week, As well as a change of clothes"


There was a silence as Sia though hurriedly. Was this a test? Another point for him to score?


"And your "Medicine"" he said, unfurling a small package containing a small slab of putty, which he jammed into the cages lock.


It fizzed instantly, and the cage door swung open.


Sia decided to take her chances, and stepped out.


"But why?"


"I’m tired of being that old dog’s go-to. I put his favourite knife in there, as well as a bag of gems he thought he hid well"


He chuckled, before seeming to remember somthing.


"Besides which, I couldn't bear to see you in that cage. Every bird should fly"


He shrugged, as if the gesture he had just made meant nothing, and Sia felt a growing swell of admiration for the old man.


"What about you? Won't The Master punish you?"


"Hardly likely. I’m going to be dead by the time he gets back. Curious fire accident"


Sia nodded, And they walked to the front door, a heavy iron thing.


Malver made her wear a long cape to conceal her, although Sia knew she would throw the hood down as soon as possible, just for a second of rain on her face.


"Sia... If people ask. Tell them I was good man. In the end?"


"Yes. I will... Thank you."

 

[Song]

"That's good." He said, sighing in silent relief. The less time she spent in the orc's bed the better. He worried about her, having met her the year before when he was moved here. When he learned what he did, one could understand he wasn't exactly happy about it. But there was very little he could do, so he simply supported her, made sure she stayed strong. One day, he promised himself, she at least would be free.


"If I have to do another rune this week, there's no guaretee that it'll hold. I won't be cripple, to many runes to fix that, but a bone can only be set so many times before it simply refuses the runes." He shrugged, keeping his weight off his bad leg. Best not to test it's limits just yet. "But I'll be fine, and I won't be cripple." I won't be dead. Was basically what he was saying. He'd grown fond of living here, across from Tor, and he'd grown fond of her. He wasn't going to ruin it by death or otherwise.


"I'm going to the market. Want me to bring back anything?" He was basically asking if she wanted another small thing of wiskey or some other strong drink. He'd introduced it too her after he learned where she slept. He'd also taught her how to hide the smell on her breath, so that her master wouldn't know.

 

[Darksoul90]

"What seems to be the problem, Masahiro? You look troubled.." Bolton asked. Masahiro just looked up and stared at the guy for a moment. Bolton looked worried, and knowing that the King would continue to torture the humans for interrogation just sickened Masahiro. "One of our men, he was captured.. The King didn't even give the poor soul some mercy." Masahiro said, placing his drink down on the coffee table right beside him. "Did he give out information to the King about who you are..?" Bolton asked, sounding more worried than how he had looked.


"I am very sure that he didn't. Our men are loyal, they wouldn't sell out their only hope of freedom to the King himself.." Masahiro told the man, then stood up and walked over to the back door window. He then took off his mask for the moment. He had a grim face, as if he was starting to fail his people. He just stood there, staring through the glass. Wondering if there was still some hope left.


"Then, what is it that's really bothering you, brother?" Bolton asked, setting his drink down on the table. Masahiro shifted around a bit as he continued to stare through the window. He had dreamed of living long enough to see peace and harmony flow around the empire. That was the peace that the Orcs had ripped away from the rest of the species when they started to expand their Orcish empire. And all this time, Masahiro tried to bring that very peace back into this world. "The fact that for every precious amount of time that I waste, many of our people die by the hands of the Orcs.." Masahiro told Bolton. "Then how do we stop him.. brother? Do you have a plan?" Bolton asked.


"Yes, I have a plan. I must travel across the lands of this empire to find worthy warriors who would join us. Whether they are Elven, Dwarves, or anything in between, I must find them. We can not win this battle by ourselves as humans. We need the help of other species who share the same goals; bringing peace and harmony throughout the land, and killing the King." Masahiro finished, then turned back to where Bolton was at. The man seemed happy now that Masahiro found a way to maybe rise up against the King. "If this works, the King will never know what will hit him!" Bolton cheerfully said. Masahiro nodded. "Yes but first, I shall look around these parts of the empire, to see if there is someone who would let go of their slave life in order to save innocent lives." Masahiro told Bolton. Then, Bolton waved to Masahiro to come over to where he was sitting. Masahiro walked over to where Bolton was at, and grabbed his drink from the table. And as soon as Masahiro grabbed his drink, Bolton went on and picked up his drink from the table, and stood up from his chair.


"Cheers, my brother. To our revolution. To our future, and to our people's future. May the gods be with us all." Bolton said, and with this, Masahiro and Bolton raised their cups up into the air. "This is for everything we've been fighting for. Let us hope, that the gods will still be on our side. Cheers." Masahiro finished, and as soon as he did, the two of them began to drink. And when they finished drinking, Bolton sat back down on his chair. "They always are, Masahiro. They just give us strange paths that leads us to either our very salvation, or to our very doom. But I mean, look at us! Look at what we've accomplished! The gods must be on our side!" Bolton told Masahiro, chuckling a bit.


Masahiro smiled, and then stared at the door. "I must go then. I'll still be around here for now. So don't worry about me running off." He told Bolton, who nodded. And moments later, Masahiro started to walk towards the door. But before he could open the door and leave, Bolton called out Masahiro's name. He stopped, with his hand already on the door knob. "Be safe, brother." The man said. Masahiro stared back at Bolton, and nodded. "Same to you." Masahiro said. Then he opened the door, and was now outside of Bolton's house. And as soon as he stepped out of the house, he closed the door, and placed his mask back onto his face. Masahiro said that he would search the poorer areas first, to see if someone was willing to join. But where should he start? Why not the forests? But he obviously couldn't just go to any random person and go 'Hey! Come on into the Rebellion!' He just shook his head over that idea. But he wasn't so sure if that could work, either. He needed proof from a warrior that they are worthy enough to fight with him. Who knows, maybe Masahiro didn't need convincing. Maybe he just wanted the warriors to understand what was worth fighting for. In fact, they don't necessarily have to be warriors. They could be sorcerers and such. As long as they would join me in an effort to save this empire from the destruction of the Orcs..


So instead, he just went to take a walk down the street, hoping to pass by anyone. He just sighed as he walked, hoping that this plan of his about "gathering warriors from across the land" would work well. And as he walked down the street, he was wondering how badly the conflict would get if he wasn't able to carry out his plan. A question also ran through his mind.. If his plan actually worked, would it be enough to overthrow the King? Well, that was something that Masahiro had to see for himself. He came down the road to this large mansion on one side, and saw two human slaves out here just across the street from the mansion. Those two were speaking to each other. He just tilted his head down, and began to walk pass by them. He couldn't say hello to them. Those two humans obviously worked for Orcs. And if their masters found Masahiro here, things would get completely out of hand. So, Masahiro decided to not speak to them and to just keep on walking. Unless one of them called out for his attention. And maybe if they called out for him, he could help those two.

 

[Song]

Archon glanced over his shoulder. He knew that man, from the times he went to the tavern. A rebel, a leader. Dare he speak out? He looked around, no orcs and his master wouldn't be coming out anytime soon. So, with a hushed voice, but loud enough for the man to hear, Archon spoke out. "I know you, from the tavern. You don't speak loud, but I hear half of it."

 

[Legendless]

"You know what I like," Tor said in a soft voice. No reason for her to be overheard and punished. She continued with her work as Ash called out to a man. She paused and looked at him. She had not heard what he had said but she was willing to listen if what he said was good. Still she was a bit put off by his appearance. She looked at them but went back to working.


Scyra saw that the man he had seen in his vision was talking to some slaves. Scyra hated walking through his part but one of the items was sold by an Orc personally and so he had to suffer. Still he had never been retaken at all. He felt it was because he was seen working and the Orcs probably assume that he was a slave or something. It didn't matter as long as Scyra remained free. He walked past the group pausing a moment to stare at the woman there. She looked at him and for a moment their eyes locked. Then Scyra was on his way and Tor was blushing a bit.

 

[Kagura]

Halcyon was the elder that spoke, an elderly dryad that was connected to the very Banyan tree Pabla had squeezed past. Although he said nothing more than the girl’s name, she knew it was a cue and shook her head silently. “The orcs have not moved any further into our boundaries yet…” she reported and the elder nodded, about to shoo her. “But that does not mean they will not!” she warned, leaning forward slightly, “They are jeopardizing our very lives already, Halcyon…In a short while we will have no village!” Her lips tightened with the elder’s, it was a speech they had all heard before.


“They have found our water supply, and I know that soon enough we will feel as bad about our health as our world around us. Do not lie to me, Halcyon, I know you feel it as well as I do that nature is unbalanced…” the girl shook her head. “We need to fi-”


“Pabla”


The voice gave her a pause and she looked up at the woman who spoke, one of the elves who still had yet to find her correct spirit. “We shall stay as we are and as we always have been…” Quinta noted, her frizzy locks somewhat bouncing, “In Nature.” It was a statement that demolished the redhead’s thoughts of support. “They are destroying our homeland” the girl commented, waiting for any kind of comfort from the people in front of her. The woman sighed, closing her eyes to open them very slowly,


“Look around you Pabla…A forest is not just a tree that an orc cuts down today, but the entirety of them. A simple sampling, thick brushes, the flora and a smell of all things that live in harmony…The forest will always live with us Pabla, the same as you will always live with your Sequoia.” Quinta explained, offering a smile toward her.


Pabla almost didn’t say anything, almost, “There is no always, Quinta! My tree is going to die very soon, and you are all just sitting here and waiting for it to happen to this village! There’s got to be some way to fight the orcs…”the elders shook their heads along with Pabla, Halcyon about to speak up. “No!” the redhead yelled, “We may be lesser beings in terms of our advancement, but we have something the orcs do not!” The elders shook their heads again. “A few men to save the people? Is that really not worth it?” she asked, Quinta quick to jump in, “You don’t understa-!”


“No! You do not understand! You are not even bound to a tree in this world!” the much younger girl yelled. The council went silent, and the dryad came to terms the weight of her words, realizing only now that she had found her way up to her feet. “Pabla, you may go now” Halcyon spoke again, staring at her hard from his spot in the circle, and only sharpening his stare every time she opened her mouth. The girl finally decided it better to bow slightly from her standing position and take off.


It wasn’t exactly in her best intention to call Quinta out like that, but the elder truly had no idea what it felt like to be connected to the world around them. Especially one that was dying, such as this one slowly being ransacked from the outside by the orcs. Pabla knew someone had to stop them, and the council was bounding the people from driving them back. The girl slightly tightened her fists, if she was the only elf in the grove with any type of guts, then she would have to handle it herself.


Any kind of protection was better than the scouts that simply ran the same areas every day, and the normal ‘thrills’ of nature. Pabla made her way home, with an idea to pick up a few of her flasks, it was time someone did something. It just so happened that what she was doing, the council might not exactly approve of…


She’d have to work fast…

 

[Seren]

The rain did not feel right on her skin, not fresh and cool as she imagined it, but rather a damp film that made her feel sticky and humid.


She longed to throw back her hood, but did not- she could not take the risk of being spotted.


There was little time to hide, and she knew a plan was needed.


Sia fell into step behind a group of seemingly well off orcs, keeping a respectful distance, but keeping close enough to appear associated with them.


She held her head low, and gazed demurely at the ground, just the way The Master had always liked her to act.


Tagging behind the group she made her way down the street, to the market, which was almost empty today.


Suddenly, all of reality seemed to whip round, and crack into the back of her skull, a cutting pain accompanying every step.


Reality seemed to falter, darkness scuttling round the edges of her rapidly blurring vision.


The smoke and steam that rose from various stalls and houses seemed to be working its way inside her lungs, burning her throat.


She longed for the medicine Malver often gave her, before quickly realising that it was the very same medicine that was twisting her internal reality.


Sia turned off down an alleyway, and sat in the mud, crying helplessly.


Death felt like a certainty, and she awaited its release.

 

[Riddle78]

Synod watched from atop a tree,towards the billowing columns of black smoke choking the air on the horizon. The orcs were coming,he had no doubt. And they'll do to this village the same as they had done to his. He was a refugee. The only member of his troibe that he knew survived. When he came,he instantly felt a dislike of the ruling elders; they were complacent,weak,and even more cowardly than himself. They'd rather roll over and die than try to find a way to survive and fight back at a later day. Synod knew that the village needed protection;the scouts were simply not enough. And too complacent.


Everything about this place was diseased,just asking to die. He needed to fix that. They needed hope.


His attention was drawn to the Elder's Grove,by a woman shouting. He looked down,and saw a fiery headed woman shouting down the ruling elders,calling them out on their cowardace and complacency. "Maybe we can start something..." He stood up,and stepped off of the tree. He started to plummet down. Near the ground,he summoned the wind to slow his fall. He landed behind the woman,and from such a short distance,he immediately realized that she was a Dryad.


"It doesn't surprise me that the only person here who actually wants to do something is a woman. A Dryad,at that." He approached the woman,holding his staff at his side,the garnet lens in the crook catching the sunlight. "Perhaps I could help you? I've seen first hand what the orcs can do." His face was hard as stone. The face of a guilty survivor,seeking revenge.

 

[Serano]

A cloud of dust rose from the plains in the east, a guardsmen observed from his post. Were he not he a newer recruit, he might of thought a dust storm were rushing to overtake him and the fort. With his keens eyes though, he was able to make out the telltale black shapes of horses off in the distance.


The watchmen turned and looked down into the fort shouted loudly, “Captain Trevelor! They’re Here!”





Another man, this one much younger and dressed in a finely woven uniform, stepped out of the logged cabin at the rear of the fortress that served as the division’s headquarters. In addition to being informed of the Blackguard’s arrival, he had been told that he was to be relieved of his command and assume the role as second in command. Such was his anger, that he burned the telegram as soon as he received it. To be relieved by that Half-Breed… I will not allow this.





His hands curled around his shirt and straightened it out as he stared out at the front gates. Adorning his uniformed were metals of all kinds; each representing either a commendation of some sort or denoting his participation in any number of campaigns. One in particular was actually given to him by the King personally. The captain of the post wasn’t just an proud officer, but also a nobleman of high station. And he would rather burn down half of the kingdom than hand over command to a bastard child.





The thunder of hoofs roared louder and louder, before finally ceasing in front of the fort. Outside of the gates, he could hear one… two … then finally three heavy boots descend onto the ground. They approached the gates before stopping. The gate keeper, turned and looked back at his commander for permission to open the gates. After taking in a deep breathe, the captain looked up and gave him an affirmative nod.





"CREAAAAAK," screamed the doors as they slowly opened up to reveal three figures. The one on the right was a diminutive person, more than likely a dwarf. And by the look of his armor, he was of some import but couldn’t tell anymore from this distance. On the left, was a human of average height who hid his face with one of those large brimmed hats that were common in the desert regions. In addition, he was wearing a long dust colored duster that brushed against the ground as he walked. Finally, in the center of the small group and adorned in his signature ebony armor that the Blackguard was so famous for, was Davalamin.


At the simple sight of the imposing man, the captain could feel a warm stream starting to run down his leg. He had been ordered by no less than the King’s personal messenger to keep a watchful eye on the new commander of the fort. That was a polite way of saying to spy on him. However, the captain had other plans; after he struck down the famed Blackguard commander, he would be richly rewarded for the deed.





"Davalamin! I am Lord Trevelor! And I would rather trade my axe arm then hand over command to someone who isn’t even an Orc!”





The two men flanking him glanced at Davalamin to see his reaction. With roll of his shoulder, and a soft snap of his neck as he twisted it, Davalamin drew his axe and stepped forward. “So be it.”





Trevelor raised up his battle axe above his head and charged at the Blackguard Captain. This was his moment for glory! His time to show this arrogant half-breed what a true Orc was!





Davalamin waited for the right moment and simply sidestepped the charger’s clumsy attack. His body rotated and drove the axe down with a swift downward cut, slashing the captain’s right arm, and cleaving it off from his shoulder. Blood gushed out from the opening, spurting a green gooey substance all over the courtyard. One could clearly see part of the man’s bone cut jutting out from his body, as the blade was so sharp that it cut clean through the hard material.





The Blackguard captain stretched his arms back as he listened to the screams of the now de-armed noble captain. “My arm! My fragging axe-arm! You’re insane!”





The other two men who had accompanied Davalamin into the fort doubled over in laughter. The human bellowed out at the man crying on the dirt, “If the arm was any good, you wouldn’t of lost it in the first place, mate!”





“Hey stumpy,” the shorter fellow shouted with a hearty belly chuckle. “Maybe I can… lend… you a hand!”





At hearing that last joke, Davalamin turned back and glared at the pair. They quickly composed themselves, after a few more chuckles. Trevelor was still screaming in pain as Davalamin pressed the blood covered edge of the axe up against his neck. He spoke in a hushed, but menacing tone, “Listen here you spoiled brat! I know that the King wanted you to be his dancing monkey here…”





What little pride the man had surged from within as he challenged Davalamin’s assertion, “No! No! I don’t know what your talking ab…”





“I said… listen.” Trevelor’s words were cut off as the edge pressed closer to his wind pipe. Blood formed from where the edge met the skin, and dripped down onto the ground like small drops of rain.





“You know this area very well, and I can use that. Remain useful to me, and you will live. Cross me, and I’ll filet your body in front of you family. But leave you alive just long enough to watch my men violate your wife before cutting her into bite size pieces. Do we have an understanding?”





The man trembled under the blade and looked horrified at the sight of the dwarf making a lewd gesture in his direction. He hurriedly force out a definite, but careful nod.





“Good, I look forward to working to you Captain Trevelor. You should get that wound taken care of, and then report to my command post.”





Davalamin began to move away, but froze at the foul scent of fear. He looked up and could see a trail of liquid leading from the steps of the cabin, knowing immediately that it wasn’t blood. “On second thought, get yourself cleaned up as well.”





As Davalamin stepped forward up the steps and into the building. With haste, his followed close behind. However the dwarf couldn’t help himself as he stopped long enough to pick up the Orc’s severed arm. He smiled back at the nobleman as he grasped his hand with the severed one and moved it up and down. “Just had to shake your hand, been a great pleasure meeting you and I love your work.”

 

[Darksoul90]

Once he had heard the man call out for him, Masahiro stayed still. He then stared at the two for a moment, and watched as the woman kept working. Masahiro shook his head to this, as he takes a couple of steps closer to the two. "You shouldn't have to continue working for the Orcs. They can't keep holding onto your freedom.." Masahiro told the girl. He then waited as another man came walking pass by them. And as soon as he left, Masahiro continued to watch the two of them that were still here. He wondered if they had any special skills in mind. But as he stood there in front of those two, he began to think about the Elven. It came to a point for him to notice that if an Elven wanted to help him, what if they needed HIS help first? If he was to ever gain the Elven's trust, Masahiro had to do something about the depleting forests. But that's probably where these two strangers come in. Or maybe more people that he could find while he's still here. If they were up for it, that is. But hopefully, there would be some Dwarves along the way that would also like to join too.


"We all do not deserve this from the Orcs. Every day, they make you work, and beat you until your very last breath. Other Orcs are mistreating their slaves, or force their slaves to do what ever they want them to do. And as they do this, you work for their pleasure. That must stop." He told them. This was true, many humans who are slaves are being mistreated or worse. And the Orcs expect for the humans to follow their orders, even if it would lead to their death. Most of the times as Masahiro would pass by one of the slavery posts around the empire, he would see bodies stacked up into piles. Those poor souls. No mercy is ever given to the humans, nor to the other species as well. Especially for the Elven. As the Orcish empire grew, the Elven helplessly watched as their villages were destroyed, and as their forests were all burned into the ground. It all had to stop.


"But I for one, have nothing to hide from you. I just need to know if you two are.. trustworthy. If you are, then I shall reveal myself to the both of you. But before I do, think about this for a moment. Think about who I really am. And then ask yourself this one question.. If you had a chance to leave this slave life, and instead join something that is more bigger than yourself, would you take it? Would you leave this life to save billions of lives from the Orcish empire?" Masahiro told them. Maybe giving them this type of question would help them realize what was really going on. And if they wanted to join, where else would Masahiro have to go to find more people? Masahiro did not care if he had to travel all over the empire in order to search for allies. He would do what ever it takes to overthrow the King, and to bring peace and harmony throughout the land. So he just stood there, as he awaits for their answer.

 

[Serano]

The dwarf, Bohlgren, was still chuckling as he stepped inside the wooden command post. It wasn't a very large structure; immediately as one stepped through the door, they were greeted by a large table for placing maps on it and a few billboards behind it to pin up other relevant documents upon. Off to either side were offices that were for the commander and the executive office. Obviously, this facility was meant only for the business of the unit.


And business, was just what was going on. Davalamin was standing on the opposite side of the table from Bohlgren, with Argos, the human, standing between the pair of warriors off to the side of the table. The dwarf pretended to be merely clearing his throat when Davalamin looked up from the map on the table. Bohlgren had often wondered if Davalamin even had a sense of humor, but of course he wasn't fool enough to ask him himself.


Peering down at the map as he approached the table, Bohlgren listened as the Blackguard Commander spoke, "As I was saying, our first objective should be in dealing with the Dwarves. With their forges, we can begin to build and supply a much larger army. We shall leave the leaf ears to their precious trees for the moment. "


Bohlgren hopped up and slammed his fist into his hand, eager to go back and reclaim his rightful place. Argos, sought to temper the dwarf's enthusiasm, "Don't be counting your chickens just yet. Breaking through their defenses isn't going to be a picnic. Besides, even once we're in, we're going to be having one of a time fighting our way through winding tunnels."


Davalamin shot a glare so hot it could melt all the tundra in Eldor, "Is that cowardice that I hear from you?"


The challenge was both instinctual, but also meant to gauge Argos' reaction. To determine if it truly was, as he snarled, cowardice. Or if it was more a tactical calculation Any other underling would of cowered in fear at the sight of the angry half-Orc. But Argos and Davalamin had developed a mutual understanding; Argos knew just when to push and Davalamin knew just when to listen. "I'm simply saying there must be a better way than just to go charging in with all guns blazing as stumpy over here wants," Argos countered and motioned over at the Dwarf.


"HA! How about I chop you off at the knees and we'll see just who's "stubby!" You wouldn't know it from listening to them, but the two of them had become inseparable since they joined up as part of Davalamin's Rangers. Officially, the Rangers were in the command of Argos... but he knew where the real orders came from. They were assigned to do the tasks that giant hulking Orc blackguardsmen weren't suited to: reconnaissance, infiltration, espionage, and even sabotage.


Davalamin mulled over Argos' suggestion. He knew that the young ranger captain was right; going with a full frontal attack with his men was bound to end up in heavy causalities, despite the overwhelming technological edge. Fighting their way through the bottleneck that were sure to form at the gate...


Just then, Davalamin slammed his fist to bring the bickering rangers attention back to him. "Bohlgren, your family is still within the city limits yes? You think they could be able to help us?"


The diminutive dwarf walked over and flipped open the tab on a barrel of rum, as he mulled it over. "My family isn't quite as powerful as they use to be since my exile," he grumbled and took a swig from the mug. "But with the right incentive," Bohlgren brought up his fingers to rub them together, inclining that he was speaking of money. "I think they, and others, could be persuaded."


"I'm counting on it, my little friend..." Davalamin said with a small smile smile, and almost imperceptible jab at Bohlgren as he put emphasis on the "little."


I'll be damned! I knew the ugly bastard had a sense of humor, the dwarf through to himself. Maybe there's hope for him yet...

 

[Legendless]

Tor looked at Scyra's disappearing backside and then turned her full attention to Masahiro. She hesitated at his words that she did not have to keep working. He tightened her grip on the clothes she was touching and then let them go. She nodded at the strange man, but she was worried too. If she was caught....


But she listened to his words. For so long she had hoped for someone to say them to her. Someone who wasn't just a fellow slave. All slaves dreamed of freedom at least in her mind. But hearing it from someone who seemed to truly believe it and sounded as if it was possible. Tor for a moment wanted to tell him to leave. That it was impossible and he would only get them in trouble.


But then Tor thought about her duties. What the Orcs made her do. She hated it and hated them. She felt like her body was not her own. That it was a toy for them. She looked at Masahiro and decided that it was worth the risk.


"I want to be free," she said in a soft voice, barely believing she could utter that sentence.

 

[Song]

Archon listened, as he had so many times in the tavern, but now in full. Now he knew exactly who he was talking too and couldn't believe it. So many times he'd thought about finding a way to escape, to join whatever resitance, rebellion, their was to be found. He'd watched so many of his friends die at the hands of Orcs, he was ready to pay the beast back. Torture, death, all of that meant nothing if he didn't stand up for it when he had the chance.


He looked at Tor, smiling at her quiet voice. She was close enough now, and Ash put his hand on her shoulder, looking at Masahiro himself now. "We want to be free..." He looked back at Tor, "...and we can probably help." He glanced at his master's home then pointed to the still fading rune on his leg.


"I shouldn't be walking, my master broke my leg this morning. So riddle me this, how am I?" He gave a slight smirk, chuckling. Eleven blood? It was possible, somewhere in his line maybe, but as far as he knew, he was pure human. But that didn't matter, fact of the matter was, he was a fighter, a survivor, and he wasn't going to miss this chance.

 

[Kagura]

The fiery young woman that Synod had been watching withdrew slightly when he dropped down from the treetops. Pabla didn’t recognize the man, and deftly swerved so she could get around him until he spoke out about her. It made the girl pause alright; as he seemed to be referring to the conversation she just had with the elders. Her eyes darted up at the tree he had just descended from, and back towards the gathering place with a rather deep frown on her face.


“Do I know you?” Her timing seemed to be excellent, almost cutting off the last sound of a sentence that she caught the gist of. The girl was more focused on the fact that he might’ve heard her talking to the elders, and narrowed her eyes slightly. The elders were probably the biggest group of people she could find herself to be open to. It pained her that they held her judgement in the same viewpoint as…as a kid, despite the fact she was older than some of them.


They did not trust her, and she was currently putting her loyalty to them against that of the forest on her values chart. The two would both be killed by the orcs though, if nobody did anything though and the elf in front of her seemed to be offering help. The girl shook her head “I will be the only one to stand against the council…” was her definite answer, “and I would like it if you stayed out of our business from now on” she warned, with a hard stare.


The man had been giving her quite a stone face after his statement, and it made her heart flutter with sympathy. Pabla tried to stifle it, instead taking in the man standing in front of her; he was quite tall and had white braids hanging out from the inside of the deer head hood he wore. His eyes were covered in shadows and she couldn’t identify their exact color, but she didn’t really care. Fur was his main wear and she deemed him average, someone she’d probably forget by tomorrow…


What did interest her was the staff he was holding at his side, the light catching in the stone more than once. Catching herself glancing again, she rolled her eyes and walked up to brush past him, “If you want to help, you can defend the village.” It was a menial task really, and she gave it with a smirk on her face.


The truth of the matter was that Pabla wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing with the orcs, all she had planned for today was menial distractions. Soon enough they would see past the illusion, quite literally, and the people she lived with would no longer be safe. That included the man next to her, who she was currently trying to turn off of the exploit of joining her. Not only that but the many orcs she saw were only a small fraction of the bigger army, and to kill a body you had to cut off the head.


There was no way one of anything could get to the orc king, they needed an army and no one was willing to join. Before she completely left the man that had interrupted her trek home she notes, “My solution is temporary…” With a look at the man, she shrugs her shoulders, “Try, try again” was the finishing note, smiling rather sadly. The feeling of dread overwhelmed her and she felt like she was breathing in the toxic fumes for a moment rather than N’Hoffei. Tightening her lips once again, she slaps his back as she pushes away from him, heading in the general direction of home.


This of course if before she remembers something as an afterthought, “Oh, and do not dare to follow me, less your eyes play tricks on you” she warned. It wasn’t exactly like she would be attacking him; it was just her plan of action at the moment. If someone happened to be in the middle of her cast, she couldn’t help it as the bugs and few birds of the forest have experienced a mirage or two…

 

[Riddle78]

Synod simply called after the Dryad, "Defense is suicide! Especially for you!" He turned around,and approached the elder's grove. The assembled druids,hunters,and Dryads looked at him,most wearing expressions of disgust or annoyance. He was an outsider...But he had something important to say. The Dryad woman already said it,but he'll drive the point home. One of the older members of the circle,a Dryad,said, "Synod. What brings you to us,tortured brother?" "Our response to--" One of the younger elders,a hunter cut him off. "That's enough! We are safe. They'll never find us. And if they do--" "They WILL find us. We WILL NOT survive--" "Your tribe died because it was weak,Synod." The clearing fell into an uneasy silence. Suddenly,Synod's staff glowed,and a rock,small enough to fit in his palm,shot up from the hunter's feet and squarely into his forehead,leaving a bloody bruise.


"Do NOT call my people weak when we scattered for survival. YOU are content with WAITING for Death,instead of escaping it in order to deliver it on those that endager us the most! YOU are weak! YOU are the coward! As are all who refuse to take proactive action against the Greenskin Empire!" He glared at the elders. "If we do not rally the tribes to strike back at the Orcs,our race will cease to be. The Dwarves hide under their mountains,protecting their precious gold and gems! The Humans are subjugated by the Greenskins,and are in no position to do anything! If we fall,who will preserve the world? No one. Defense is suicide. We cannot defend against them. So,instead,we will strike against them in stealth and cunning and spell. And retreat if we cannot achieve the objective of the day."


Synod's glare moved to the elders,awaiting a response. All of them were deathly silent and dumbstruck. And the flippant hunter was practically vibrating in rage. "Are you Elves and Dryads? Or are you diseased runts?"

 

[Serano]

Captain Trevelor walked out of the infirmary with a bandage wrapped around his shoulders. He glanced over at the cloth that now covered his bloody stump underneath. The fury inside him boiled; that he was so easily bested by one who wasn't even an Orc! I swear I will make that Half-Breed pay, he though to himself.


Walking across the dirt covered courtyard, he looked down and kicked a rock in anger over in the direction of the command post, just knocking it onto the porch. Commander Davalamin, as he now referred to himself after assuming control of all forces in the region, had requested that he come over the HQ. But not before he humiliated him further by asking him to clean up, no doubt smelling the ammonia from his fear that had trickled down his leg. Trevelor had done cleaned up to the best of his ability, but didn't want to risk further angering the Blackguard Commander by going to change. Despite his best efforts, and if one looked close enough, there was a long stain running down along his pants.


Just before he grasped the door handle leading into the outer office, the door burst open in from of him. Argos and Bohlgren, the two that had accompanied the Blackguard, brushed past him. They paid him little heed as they seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere. Precisely where they were heading, Trevelor would endeavor to find out.


Davalamin saw Trevelor through the open door and called out to him, in a seemingly genial tone, "Ah! Just the man I needed to see... come in!"


Trevelor stepped through the doorway and stopped just across the table from the man in ebony armor. He leaned up against the table and made a passing glance at the table, peering over the map for some clue of his intentions.


The Blackguardsman returned his attention over to one of the boards erected around the map table. Trevelor recalled that the particular one he was looking over held intelligence reports from the dwarven sector. As Davalamin's attention was on the documents, Trevelor dared to take a closer look at the map and the planned disposition of troops. Turning to notice the noble captain's curiosity, Davalamin said, "You have no reason to snoop Trevelor. I will tell you exactly what my plans are. In fact, that is why I called you here..."


"Me Sir? I don’t understand, "the captain responded and looked quite puzzled.


"As I said before, you know more about what is going on in the region than I... at the moment. So tell me, what the current disposition of the army is."


Trevelor knew that all the commander had to do was look over the boards for the current disposition. Unless the simpleton couldn't even read, he thought with some amusement before responding to the inquiry, "It's my pleasure to report, that under my leadership, we have made significant gains against the Elves in this sector. The 1st Division has cleared the forest and the elves that resided within, south of here to the Shochta River," Trevelor motioned on the map to the location of the waterway. "We sustained only minor casualties during that operation."


Reaching up and tearing off one of the sheets of the paper, Davalamin mused as he read over the contents of the document, "Minor casualties you say? That's strange, because it says here that an entire company was wiped out during the attack. And, unless I'm mistaken, it says here that it is believe the culprit was a single elemental druid. Perhaps you simply misread this document... do you have trouble with big words, Trevelor"


The bastard was toying with me! He undoubtedly was going to try and take credit for MY actions, the arrogant captain mused to himself. He ignored the comment, and continued. "Yes... that is what the document says. But it is my strong belief that, he is still not in the area any more. PHe possibly moved to one of the villages in the south, one that we have yet to clear.”


“Uh huh," Davalamin answered skeptically. "To go forth and form an alliance with other elves and strengthen them. You realize, of course, the danger in allowing one so dangerous to flee and reestablish him yes?"


Before the patronizing commander gave Trevelor time to respond, he let out soft sigh and waved his hand to end that part of the conversation. "And of course you've kept the 7th Division here to protect your great asset, which leaves only the 12th division. It says here they have made little progress in the south... care to explain that?"


Trevelor swallowed the lump in his throat at the mention of them, hoping in some small manner that the new commander would neglect to notice the lack of action by his own unit. He responded in a much less confident tone, "Well it's the cutters, you see. They have been slowed down by trickery on the elves part."


"You mean to tell me," Davalamin said in a hushed but infuriated tone. "That your vaunted 12th division... is being fooled... BY LEAF EARS!"


Trevelor straightened up, scared stiff by the rising rage being thrust onto him, “Sir! It's more than simple trickery. That particular area is very dense and there is concern for ambushes in the region. But, be assured that we…”


"Bah! I will have none of your excuses! All this time here and you have nothing to show for your efforts. Not one single settlement established in the time you have been here wasting your time with the Elves and their trees. I want every officer in the 12th executed, and now officers to be drawn from the ranks of the enlisted men."


Trevelor's voice cracked in protest, "But Sir! The officers of that division are some of the finest in the army. They are from some of the noblest families, and have family members that include members of the Council, you simply can’t...”


His words were cut off by the barrel of a revolver, pointed straight at the captain’s forehead. "I can just as easily start with you, Captain. Now, is can't, really the word you want to say to me?"


"It will be done immediately, Sir!" The nobleman spit out the last part, disgusted at its bitter taste.


"Very good, there may be hope for you yet my young captain. Now, High Command has asked that we reprioritize our goals to gathering resources to feed the Council's ever growing need for raw materials to crush the rebellion. As such, we will be reprioritizing the army, towards here," Davalamin's finger rested directly on the Dwarf's capital city.


"That is ambitious... I hope you have a plan to how we are going to get past the Dwarves defenses," The captain glanced at the map and then back up into the dark eyes of the Blackguard Commander.


"As you wish, Commander," Trevelor sighed out as he resigned himself to his orders. "And what shall be done concerning the elves?”


Davalamin turned and picked up a smooth rock that was used to hold down the map in place, turning it over and examining it. "Have the men withdraw their forces from the forest and rally here for the new campaign. Let them have their trees, and I will have my rocks."