Dawn Raid, Ronin assault Valeo et Veneratio and Dark Progeny

[Yoshimutsu Watanabe]

Yoshimutsu stood ready, his half-armour blackened with charcoal as he looked around at the men massed around him. He knew that in over a dozen other locations the other Ronin lords and ladies stood similarly, waiting for the lightbringing orb that was Intop to crest the horizon. He reflected a moment, remembering the incredulous looks that the others gave him when he'd announced that they would ride through the night to engage the massed realms of the Valeo et Veneratio and the Dark Progeny.

So many realms...the forces of the Ronin were stronger, but less numerous, and the supply lines would be stretched dangerously thin engaging so many enemies, but so it would be balanced; and Isonia would be pleased that Her servant Yoshimutsu strived so hard for balance...At least, that was Yoshimutsu's intent.

It mattered little in the end, war was necessary, and Yoshimutsu only hoped that those who his people rode against would understand the reasonings behind his actions. If not? Perhaps they would see fit by punishing him by bringing the forces of the other Foret alliances into conflict. He made a face behind his helmet's visor. That would be awkward.

There it was, the pink glow of dawn and he gave the signal, his men racing forward to engage the sentries of the Progeny, while simultaneously he watched Isonia's divinity arc across the purple-black expanse of sky as yet unlit by Intop.

The horizon erupted in a gout of fire as the Lighting Lances all hit at once, the temples defending the lands of Foret torched through the night as the armies marched. And so the battle was joined, the Isonian Renegades of Nihilistic Night outnumbered in realms, but overmatching their foes in heart.....

[Go Seigen]

A dawn strike? Yoshimutsu was mad. Go Seigen staggered out of bed.

"Coffee, strong, black, now" he shouted to his steward.

He had been awakened by the crack and roar of the lightning lances being launched from the temples of neaby realms, and the trumpets of his troops being martialed for war. At least his commanders had the troops ready on time.

A couple of strong mugs of coffee later, Seigen was feeling almost like a leader again. He walked in front of the army, giving the final morale boosting address, "we walk once more into the lands of Foret, to take them for ourselves", he shouted to a rumble of cheers from the massed Opulents. "We will destroy the realms of VeV and the dark Progeny. It is time to march, once again."

[Lia MoonFlower]

Lia's response to the early strike had been less than congenial, and Yoshimutsu had to bear the brunt of it all.

"Are you fuckin' insane or what?" the elfwoman had demanded one night as they sat together in his quarters. Of course, he had only indulged her tirade, but in the end she was up for the strike, muttering and cursing under her breath.

It was as such that Lia stood perched precariously in a tree, her flame coloured hair twisted up and blending in with the last few of the falling leaves, and a brown cloak wrapped tightly about her to ward off the chill winds. Nodding at the fey below her, the shadow fey began a descent upon the lands of Progeny, stealing and looting, and taking whatever wasn't really nailed down from the vaults.

Then, from a distance, two lightning bolts fell from the sky, creating an "X" in the air before striking their target, another Progeny lord. Xyen was up to no good already, Lia mused, watching as the merwoman struck over and over again with her lightning lances.

And then, after that was done, Calenia would lead their forces into the lands and claim them as their own, for Isonia, and for Ronin.

Smiling satisfactorily, Lia jumped down from the tree, fully intent on finding Yoshimutsu. She still had quite a few things to say to him about this strike, some of which were praises - the rest, mostly about him being insane.

[Oriana]

My Lady! My Lady I bring news!

Slowly the mage turned at the sounds of a runner approaching, quirking an eyebrow she spoke addressing the young man while trying not to lose her patience or her temper at having been interrupted.

Slow down before you kill yourself or someone else in your haste Anthony and tell me what is so important that you cannot see I am otherwise occupied

A delicate hand waved towards the three men the mage had been speaking to and she couldnt help but feel for the lad who now stood before her with all the color drained from his face.

I am so sorry Lady, I didnt realize you were tending to other matters I just....

The same hand that had been waved before was now raised commanding silence.

There is no need to apologize Anthony, you obviously believe that what you have to tell me is important so tell me and be done with it incase you havent noticed we are at war and there is still much to be done.

With a slight bow of his head the runner relayed to the mage what he had learned.

Yes my Lady I know that we are at war, and knowing how long we have been fighting I thought perhaps your spirits would be lifted upon learning that our friends and allies of Ronin are on the move.
They have struck out in war against the heathens of Foret.

Silence hung in the air around them for a brief moment as the mage mulled over what she had been told.

Thank you Anthony, I would like for you to send a message to the head of Ronin giving him our best wishes towards their success. Those of Ronin have proven above all others to be our truest friends and allies, may Isonia guide them to victory.

It will be done right away my Lady

With a slight bow the runner took his leave and Oriana turned back to finish issuing her own orders that were to be carried out in their own war all the while sending a prayer to the goddess herself that her own people and those of Ronin would be safe and find victory under Isonias ever watchful eye.

[Querion]

Querion had bad dreams all through the night, he had disturbing visions lately in the sanctuary room and the border outposts brought news on many strangers wandering the villages, asking about the stronghold. Yesterday, a spy was caught in Romney, near the local inn. He was fool enough to banter with the drunken villagers and he was accidentally killed. As the guards arrived to the scene, they were stunned to realize the heathen guild tattoo under his tongue.

Something was in the making, Querion sent a message to Dyvim a couple of days before, that the Progeny kingdoms may be in danger.

"Sire! Sire!" - shouts echoed in the stairway leading to the large sleeping room.

"Our temples are burning and the treasury is stolen!"

"Uh, what....err..." - Querion still half sleeping half awake an by the time he jumped out of his bed, officers of Royal Guard filled the large room, shouting, gesturing at the same time.

"STOP!" - ordered his men on silence.

"Only one at a time, please. My head hurts."

The officer in charge stepped aside and bowed to the warlord.

"Sire, the eastern part of the city is burning, most of the shrines are destroyed and our priests told me that Foret is raging. Our treasury chamber has exploded, together with the City Hall and a heathen assassin unit took our cash reserves."

Querion felt his blood turning to frozen ice crystals. He knew.

"Go ahead. Give me a damage report."

The officer scrolled down a parchment and ran through it with his eyes.

"Sire. Our partols in Thorn Mounains reported raiding parties setting the crop on fire and burning down border villages. Also, three members of the city council have been murdered tonight, you already know about the city but we haven't seen enemy troops yet."

Querion turned to the window. He could immediately spot the area by the fire dancing in the horizon, the district of Sanctuary. Someone will pay for this, though he knew, he felt the signs of the inevitable. The season of war is on them again.

He turned back.

"Alright, send all the firefighters to the Sanctuary and tell the High Priest that he has my full support. Double the nightwatch and send out a constription brigade to Alain, Eluck and the port villages. This aggression will not be tolerated."

[Squee]

Squee let out a yawn as he stood there while his attendants dressed him. This was early, way too early for this warrior. After he was dressed he stepped onto the balcony and watched his troops below as they were preparing for battle. Most of them were yawning themselves as they were not used to warring at this ungodly hour. Looking to the horizon, he saw that the sun was just starting to show itself.

As much as squee would have liked to sit and watch the sunrise, the time for idling was over, this was war. Leaving the balcony, Squee went down to join his troops in preparing for battle. Reading the parchment that came from the Jonin, Squee could see that the enemy was going to be strong in numbers. He could only hope that the enemy was even more dazed than he was.

As Squee got onto his horse, he let out to his attendants, "remind me to thank the Jonin for calling a war at such an hour."

[Sun Ce]

As the dawn slowly fades away, Sun Ce peer's out his window at his stirring troops and wonder's about the coming battle. his thieves have left well in advance to start the burning and looting of the heathens. Sun Ce turns to his commanders and asks for prelimnary reports. the commanders tell him that VeV and progeny are ripe for the taking, but will be a tough battle.

As the troops assemble in the courtyard, Sun ce could see in there eyes some fear for this is mostly there first battle. Sun Ce calls out to the troops"well men we are going to war, for most of you this is your first battle, but there is nothing to fear as Isonia will protect you". Time to mount up and head to the sound of battle.

[Dyvim Tvar]

Two figures stand side by side next to a small ebony plinth upon which precariously rests a scrying dish that the twin cowled figures are staring at with rapt attention as all around them corpreal shadows shift and cavort rapidly, mimicing the scenes of battle depicted in the bowl in some areas while in the others they merely sit as human figures, brooding at the lack of attention given to them by the two dark masters who stand obliviously at the center of the desperate attempts for attention from the chaotic shadow wraiths.

After several moments of silence the smaller of the two cowled figures looks up from the bowl, icey blue eyes flashing in the unatural darkness of his hood and adresses the being standing beside him in a quiet whisper

The regiments of the Ronin march against us.
They have left lands in disarray and armies as mere shadows of their former might...what shall we do?

We will do what we always do.

Surely this will hamper our plans. Already contact with the pantheon has been severed with the destruction of our temples...even your own cathedral has been set upon by the savages, in the light of such an act how can you hope to uphold the status quo?

The Ronin are as ants to the picnic...they seek only to gorge themselves on whatever they can take and then retreat to their miserable hives until the next frenzy of hunger is upon them. We are a higher race than they, where they fight for greed we fight with purpose and where their gain is naught but land ours is the amassing of souls for the pantheon.
They will come back again and again, but for every one of ours who dies in battle the pantheon grows stronger, and for every soul of theirs we sacrifice-

The pantheon grows stronger...I understand your view but what if one of the usurper gods attempt to claim the souls as their own? Surely these barbarians will offer up our dead to whatever diseased wretch they hold up as a god

I believe it is the whore-godess whom Ronin battle under the banner of...but what does it matter? They have underestimated us, of that I can assure you. Even now the reports come flooding in that they believe us to be followers of Foret...it seems thay are as ignorant as all the other animals in these lands, they shy away from learning what we preach so openly about the true gods and the glory of the pantheon and as such they believe us merely fanatics of just another wretched and pathetic native god.

A handy belief to allow them to cling to, and hopefully one that will allow us to claim a victory through suprise when they see the darkness of our nature, no?

Perhaps, but do not count on the darkness, it is a fickle ally at the very best of times old friend and I feel to rely on anything but our slaves at this point would be foolhardy.

Speaking of allies what do you know of the group who have been thrown into the mix with us?

Dyvim glances up from the scrying pool and shrugs his armoured shoulders noncommitaly before returning his gaze to the inky waters in the bowl before him, choosing his words carefully and letting them ease out past barred fangs, contempt barely disguised in his soft voice.

Followers of Foret I think, their name escapes me at the moment as do most insignificant things lately, alas I fear the change may be reducing the weight of my intellect somewhat you know...something tells me that should the balance swing against us too far in this war I will be toppled from the heights set before me and reduced to a gibbering monstrousity bound for the war kennels rather than a mighty being set for godhood. Or perhaps my millenia of life are merely catching up with my mind and reducing my faculties somewhat...who can really say anymore?

The two stand in silence once more, images of war flickering through the mirrored waters faster than the human eye could ever hope to follow until finally descending on the images of destruction wrought upon the lands around Dyvim's own cathedral home that now stands amidst a smoking ruin of the once proud city of Imrryr, the image pulls a tortured sigh from Dyvim's lips and he shakes his head slightly before speaking again to his companion

It pains me always, no matter how many times the savages force me to see it...but destruction of material things is reperable, the suffering I will wreak upon the animals of the Ronin will live on in infamy for an eternity

You intend to battle back then? I thought you had decided to remain impassive as they carried out their tasks and got bored of your land brother, after all the only ones who trully gain here are the native factions, we stand only to lose!

Dyvim gazes at the speaker and his mouth splits in a malicious grin, his forked tongue flickering ever-so slightly over his double rows of razor sharp teeth and a soft chuckle spills from his throat before being swallowed by the weight of his anger in the air.

That was before, now the pantheon whispers of retribution and I must deliver it tenfold of their expectations. We will battle back against the Ronin aye, but more than that we will not rest until they realise the error of their ways...the pantheons chosen will not suffer the disgrace they have foisted upon us and they will suffer for it, oh but they will suffer!

He starts to chuckle again, his sibliant hiss of a laugh being taken up by the cavorting shadows in the room until the air is filled with a din of malicious laughter and somewhere in the darkness something turns its head and smiles contentedly.

[Squee]

Taking his blade out of a dead foret warrior, Squee stopped to survey the battle. For the time being Foret was on the run and the Ronin were gaining much land. what few foret warriors that were left were quickly taken care of. Seeing as his men had everything under control, Squee barked some last orders to his generals and retired to his tent.

It was time to sleep and regain his energies for the next battle for surely this war was not over. The Ronin were greatly outnumbered and Squee could only hope that today was a big enough victory to win the war. Nontheless all he and his men could do now was rest, and so sleep they shall.

[Dainichi]

The Great Black reared and danced in excited anticipation. War was in the air and he was eager to rush through the gathering troops and take his position. I carefully reviewed the maps and sought out strongholds looking up occasionally to enjoy the stallion's breath taking beauty. He snorted and pawed the ground until even the hords of opulents in the background seemed tame to his display.

The scent of smoke was now so strong that it's intensity was becoming a faster sign than the confirmation of messengers. Yoshimutsu's initial striking party had been a success! It was time and as the Great Black's silhouette stood once again to the call of war ... The Sun Rose.

[Liewar]

"My Liege! We come under attack! The temples are burning! The priests attend to the buildings instead of attending to the realm. Thousands of the peasents are dying! Our buildings topple under their power! The troops are shaken! The....."

Liewar's fist slammed into the stammering mortals throat with enough force to cause it to echo in the room. The man did not die fast. No, He lay on the floor clutching his throat, knowing that his demise would be soon. There was a cracking of bone as the man tried in vain to draw breath. Liewar smiled. He leaned down and picked the man up by his ruined throat, fear in his eyes. Liewar grinned, showing pearly whites.

"As you die, I want you to know that you are truely, and utterly insignificant. Your life was worthless, and you accomplished nothing. Killing you was an act of pity. There has been no injustice. You are nothing."

Liewar tossed the body of the man absently as he went to the balcony. The sound of buildings crashing to the ground, and people dying was glorious. Or would be...if they had not belonged to him. He sighed. His muscled chest flexed. Rippled muscle tensed as he let loose his rage. His eyes, and the design on his back flared red, and began glowing violently. The design was something too beautiful to have so dark a history. But it was. Of the 3000 some odd scars which made the design, each had been made by a magic that bloomed whenever he killed someone, or something. One life, one scar. His design spoke of his true inner Nature.

His design depicted a large dragon looming over mortals, breathing death upon them.

His feral scream of rage ended, and he gripped the solid stone railing. It began to crack and crumble under his fingers. Looking down on his ruined city, he ground his teeth together. The patheon would be pleased. And he would have his vengenance.

Liewar shouted for his aides (minus the one...), which all came quickly. They did not even glance at the body of the man that had been their comrade not even a moment ago. Their loyalty was to him alone. As for his loyalty...that was more complicated.

"You will get the remaining people together and put out those fires. You will rally the troops outside the castle. And you will have those clerics on their knees praying for spells of power. As our city is decimated, so shall the one whom did this to us. I want this done now."

Not even another word was spoken. They all left. Liewar's rage still yet burned. He closed those glowing orbs and imagined the people of his enemy dieing. Holding their loved ones for a moment before their own deaths. Liewar smiled, for he knew that not even in death would they be together. They would belong to the patheon. Tortured for eternity.

A moment of satisfaction alighted Liewar.

That moment passed, and he opened his eyes. Gazing down at his ravaged city. This would be expensive...

It was expensive. But Liewar was a general of the Progeny for a reason. He was prepared. The Temples were all back in working order by the following morn. And by that afternoon Liewar was leaning over his scrying bowl, watching hurricanes kill thousands of the very same realm that had done the same to him. Except this realm hadn't had his resources. There would be no recovering.

Liewar was also not stupid. He called in his Military general.

"General. You are to take several patrols to the border, and put up a token resistance. You will buy us time to evacuate all that is important from this doomed piece of land. Every single one of your men will die a horrible death. Every single one of them will know the joy which comes from death, and going to the rightful patheon. Is that understood."

The General nodded.

"General...Any man whom i see go out on patrol, had better die as i have ordered. By their hands or yours. If I have to do it, every single person of your line will be tortured to death over the following week."

The General nodded.

"And one last thing. If the advisor that said we could not support any more troops in this large of a land is still alive, I want him broght to me. It is because of him, that you will have to die to insure our mission does not fail. This could easily have been prevented. You have permission to do whatever you wish to one of his limbs while you bring him to me. Do not worry, for when he arrives..."

Liewar cracked his knuckles and stretched his neck.

"...He will know pain."

The general was turning to leave when Liewar held up a hand.

"Forgive my forgetfulness. You and 20 soldiers may return from the front with a like number of enemy soldiers. You may live if you can manage this for me. You will face incredible forces, so pick which battle you fight in well. If you can do this, the enemy shall regret this transgression so much more."

The general gave a wicked grin and left. The advisor must not have been far away, for Liewar could hear the beautiful scream of pain.

It was such an enchanted music.

[Dyvim Tvar]

Dyvim stands alone in the writhing darkness with onl the soft chittering of the lost souls trapped in the living shadow as company for him as he prepares for the coming ritual. Slowly he paces around the small room, his footsteps tracing a worn patteron on the stone floor as he chants an ancient incantation in a long forgotten tongue. Each syllable that spills from his lips charges the air with magical energies, filling his nostrils with the comforting stench of scorched ozone and setting his skin aflame with barely restrained power.

Stopping suddenly he glances around, noting with some satisfaction the unatural green flame that glows as unbroken symbols in the wake of his footsteps before drawing a superfluous breath and starting the summoning ritual proper, taking great care to position himself outside of the runic wards marked on the floor to protect him from the backlash of lethal energies he was about to unleash. Carefully he begins to trace patterns in the air with his taloned fingers, silvery trails of light hanging in the air like dust before dispersing slowly in all directions only to reform again and again in different symbols, mimicing the motions of his hands perfectly, gradually increasing in speed as he begins to chant in a screeching tone that raises in pitch quickly until it becomes a crescendo of primal rage. And then all falls silent and he turns his head away as the air explodes in a bright flash of magical flame, green light spiraling from the floor upwards in a twisting column of energy for scant moments before vanishing back into the immaterium as quickly as it had appeared leaving behind a small figure wrapped in a heavy cloak of darkness laying amidst a thick pool of blood, a soft mewling noise emitting from its throat that causes Dyvim to grin wickedly and take a tentative step forward, plaing his palm flat against the invisible barrier of the wards before adressing the newcomer.

Ilvez, k'ren vollemta!
Tourellandav villek morzie, diormak!

The figure chuckles quietly as the twisting words force themselves out of Dyvim's mouth for the first time in far too long and slowly it drags itself to its feet, bones cracking and jarring painfully as it performs an action it had almost forgotten the function of. After a few moments of breathless panting it turns its bald, tattooed head to Dyvim, the corner of its sewn together lips twitching in the memory of a smile and its sealed closed eyes boring into his with unerving certainty and the it speaks, a voice like ancient parchment being crumpled to dust in clumsy hands yet with the weight of true immortality behind its words.

I think we can speak native my descendant as it seems the old tongue is beyond you. Tell me, has it really been so long that you have forgotten the ways of our people and taken up the language and customs of savages?

The words hit Dyvim like a slap in the face and he ebgins to take an angry step forward before stopping, his foot hovering a fraction away from passing through the ward and then he laughs softly, shaking his head and wagging a taloned index finger from side to side as though he were dealing with a wayward child.

Now, now ancestor of mine. Did you really think I would fall for such a petty trick my darling Saxif?
No, of course you didn;t yet still you like to try your hand do you not?
I think it is a malady of your damned condition that forces you to taunt those closer to living than you have been in countless millenia you know...but alas that is neither here nor there for your summoning is not a vehicle you may use to recap on years gone by. No your summoning is so that we might wreak glorious vengeance upon the usurper savages who dared to invade the lands of the Pantheon and interrupt our harvest of souls!
You see Saxif I am in a position to offer you the one thing that no other champion has ever been able to do before...I can offer you unlife once more, and all you have to do is serve me flawlessly!

The Daemonhost rears to its full height, a green fire burning behind the lids of its eyes as it starts to hover slightly above the ground, covering the distance between itself and the barrier keeping it from Dyvim very slowly before it finally hangs in the air before him, it's ruined legs dangling uselessly beneath it and its clawed hands clenching and unclenching spasmodically.

How? Tell me how! Tell me now! I will be free again, yes free once more!

Dyvim throws his head back and laughs mockingly, wagging his finger once more and turning away from the daemonhost to hide the sparkle of mirht in his crimson eyes and the devious smirk creeping onto his thin lips as he continues to speak

Call forth the darkness for me, unleash the fury of the pantheon upon the lands of the whorescum who dare march agaisnt. Call forth the fury of the Pantheon against these "Ronin" and show them power like they have never seen before in their wretched lives!
I want them to marvel at our prowess before we reduce them to damned souls trapped within the shadow realms at our mercy for all eternity! Do this for me Saxif and I will return you to your former prowess amongst the living creatures to walk as a god with your brethren once more!

The damonhost crinkles its bound lips once more and emits a soulchilling laugh that is quickly taken up by Dyvim who spins on his heel and exits the room, moving swiftly down the corridor to the meeting room where he will await the arrival of his fellow generals in the Dark Progeny.

[Wiseguy]

As night again falls on the realm of Imhabia Wiseguy and his forces emerge from their secret camps in the forest, and gather to wait for orders.

"Ok men we where great last night, we spied all of our targets successfully. We got all the info needed with only a minimal amount of notice to us. Now tonight half of you shall put down your cloaks and daggers, and wear your armor, swords, and bows. Tonight we go and take all that is impure and heathen owned so we have room to expand our realm and allow our families to prosper. But not only do we go for our betterment, but we go to spread the word of our faith, and to protect our guild mates from harm of the heathens"

Now Wiseguy and his forces wait for word of his Jo-nin as to when and where to invade.

[Go Seigen]

Seigen rode through the captured lands, seized from the heathen realms. Everywhere there was the mark of Foret, the grey, the contamination, the corruption of the eldest.

But, in the lands captured from the Dark Progeny, there was something darker. A hint, an air of corruption that made even the taint of Foret seem clean by comparison. Seigen could not identify what it was, though it seemed like the worship of Foret might have been but a mask for the worship of something far more corrupt and evil.

"These lands," he thought, "yes, these lands would require more than the normal in cleansing. Most should be returned to Isonia, for in her place all the land could be cleansed. What was kept, would require far more than the normal conversion, the normal dedication to Isonia, they would truly require a cleansing of the taint of the Dark Progeny."

[Sun Ce]

As Sun Ce's commanders start reporting back in, the news is starting to look positive. His army has been victorious on this day. As night is falliing The commander of his thieve's abruptly wakes him up to report his city is burning down!!!! Sun Ce jumps up out of his slumber and say's to the nearest commander " wake the troops and all available thieves, we must catch these heathens NOW" but the damage has been done.

Later in the night the commander of thieves has brought some good news" sir, we have caught some heathen scum! they were burning our stores, what would you like done with them?, interragate them and then kill them, send there bodies back to wence they came as a warning to there commander.

[Squee]

"Sir lighting is striking down from the sky and destroying our buildings."

What's the damage?

"Damage is minimal sir, our sorcerers were prepared and were defending the lands right away."

Good, tell them to keep and work and find out who's causing these storms. We march when i wake. They have resorted to guerilla warfare, but we knew this was coming and we are prepared. Now leave and make the necessary preparation.

With that Squee retired to his tent, for he and his men would need to have strength to battle at a moments notice.

[Sartek]

Sartek sat atop the hill upon his trusty steed. This was his first battle with the Ronin and he still felt a pand of loss for his old comrades. His army was ready in the valley behind him.

He was roused out of his thoughts by the clash of steel. The battle had begun in front of him. He straightened himself and awaited the signal. Finally, he saw the wave of the red flag and drew his sword. Holding it high, he heard his army begin to move forward, awaiting his final command. Suddenly, Sartek felt the blood begin to rush again as he prepared to lead the charge. The part of him he thought dead since leaving the Vurumai came crashing back down upon him. He was actually excited, as if this were his first battle all over again. In a way, it was. It was his first battle leading a new way of life.

Standing up in his stirrups, he half turned to his troops. He pointed his sword forward and hollared out, "CHARGE!!"

His troops in tow, Sartek roared down the hill. The plan was to crash into the foes western flank. As he spurred his horse faster, he heard the trumpets of his opponent blaring the alarm. It was to late though, Sartek's forces had struck. He, himself, was four ranks deep before any mounted a counter. He recalled the look in the first man's eyes as Sartek's warhorse came bearing down on him. Fending off one blow and landing one of his own, Sartek realized, it didn't matter where he was, he was serving Isonia and that's all that mattered. A smile crept across his lips as he guided his force deeper into the enemy ranks.

[Squee]

Squee chuckled to himself as he watched his troops advanced. The enemy soldiers were fleeing before his troops could get close enough to engage. In fact the only ones who could draw blood were the archers as they let loose their arrows from afar. All this was quite expected as the enemy no longer had an army large enough to fight his on an open battlefield. Now the war laid on the shoulders of Ronin intelligence. It would be up to them to find the enemy resistance before they became large enough to make a decent fighting force. The enemy was down, and Squee knew that it was detrimental that they be kept down

[Nyte Mare]

She chuckled as she eyed her scrying bowl. Temples burned, peasants died and all around her war was bringing chaos to her doorstep. Oh it was a joyous time, to dance between the lightening bolts, to sing aloud with the flames. This is what she lived for! This was her time to take charge.

Yes so far, her kingdom had yet to be touched. Various scouting troops had been sighted but taken care of. Infact, if you listened closely, you could still here the cries of the one still alive. If she could say nothing nice of the filthy dogs, and she couldn't, she gave this one credit. This most recent scout was lasting through the torture for five days! If she didn't have to assist her brothers in battle, she would still be in the dungeons listening to the blood curdling screams. Ahhh, such music!

As such, she scooted the bowl away from her and glanced at her generals. But before she said a word, she took up pen and parchment and wrote a letter to her Beloved Liewar. Their last meeting had been a small scuffle of manners. She expected to be pampered, he did not comply. Maybe now, with her troops fresh and ready for battle, he would sing a different tune. And so the letter spoke..

To My Beloved Liewar,
I pray this letter finds you in desperate spirits, for I have seen the vision of your kingdom and I know that it lies in disarray. I, however, am as fresh as a spring morn and ready to ride to your aid the second you send word.

Now I know you think this such a gracious act, for that I am, I am truly. I thought myself most gracious for not slitting your throat with my fingernails for having such an inhospitable setting at our last council meeting. But my kindness is everlasting and I am willing to oversee such shortcomings as I know that you are desperately in need of My assistance.

My troops ride at sunset and should arrive at your kingdom's door on the following morning. Once we crush the heathen hordes we ride on to whatever kingdom will need of us. Since this letter will arrive long before I, the expectation of a more suitable setting will be in place. This is your final chance Liewar, do not let me down.

Faithful Follower of the Pantheon,
Nyte Mare

Quickly she folded the letter and whistled for her messenger bird. Attaching the letter, she lead it to her window and watched it fly off into the night.

-Nyte Mare

[Norgarth]

Norgarth was pleased with his agents. As one of the few dedicated scummers amongst the Ronin, his troops had been quite busy durring the war, especially just before and just after the dawn assault that started it.

The halfogre's drow had been vital to the assault, reconnoitering the foret lands to find vulnerable realms, robbing treasuries and putting countless temples to the torch to cripple the enemy's counter attack. Norgarth prefered to work in anominitywhenever possible, but that was not always an option. Several times the foret guards identified his troops and his kingdom payed the price. Norgarth lost much land to vengeful ferrets. They failed to destroy his kingdom however, and so their temples continued to burn as the war progress.

[Dainichi]

The sun once again was coming up over the horizon. A crane in the distance made it's profound call. Flocks of seagulls rode the wind while other swooped low seeking any food source they could prey upon in resending tides.

I reached up and untied the girth, removing the last of The Great Black's armor. I watched as he ran freely on the beach, dashing in and out of the tide's edge. It was good to be home, the salt water and the coastal air were a mix of warmth and chill changing with each new gust of wind.

The moment was tranquil, unlike the clashing of swords and lances flying over head just hours earlier. Demands being made and lands studied to assign and command ... I shook my head to stop the war from being relived as I loosened the last war braid from my hair, setting my own bounds free.

Hooves shook the ground as he came to me. His bow gave an easy mount. For a brief time we would ride the wind seeking balance and find our moment's freedom, if only for a day.

[Wiseguy]

With his men disgarding there armor and weapons for their more comfortable cloaks and picks, Wiseguy relaxes for a short time before he orders to build all of the newly acquired land. Orders other servants to go out and hire more troops hire as many as you can find.

Wiseguy's head servant walks to him after the rest have been put to work and talked of realms spying and trying to spie on us. "M'Lord we have had scores of me killed and we have killed scores of men all from them trying to view our prosperity. What would you like to do with all of the scum invading our land?" With a grimace on his face he says " give me the reports and let me look over them to see what needs to be done."

After reviewing all of the scum reports wiseguy notices it is but a few of the same people over and over again. He calls to his messenger and sends notice to the intruders and to his fellow guild mates about the intrusions. With the news and work for the day dealt with Wiseguy heads to his treasury to double check the traps on his own as to make sure no one can get in. then he heads to his room to sleep right as dawn was apearing.

[Lucien Starshadow]

Once again the Stormrider was returning to port, it's holds full. In war time Lucien's ship acted as a commerce raider, striking at the enemy's supplyships and ambushing the occasional hostile warship.

This had been a profitable war, the Stormrider had collected enough plunder to not only pay the crew and cover repairs, but enough to provide a nice and hefty bonus for the crew. It would have been less if they hadn't lost so many marines when that merchant vessel they boarded turned out to be carrying troops to reinforce VeV's front lines. That battle had been closer than Lucien preferred.

But now they were back in Imhabia, time to relax, at least once Lucien had paid the port fees and arranged to hire more marines.