Tyrion slept soundly after the battle the previous day in Occlo. He was contented at the progress that had been made. In his most honest opinion he was disappointed for matters that were well beyond his control. A restless stirring began in him the the moment the siege began to look winnable. He did not understand the restlessness, his emotions were awash from the recent transition in planes, or so he thought, but the vertigo was never supposed to last so long; at least, that is what the soothsayers had told him. He was not reassured.
"Tyrion. . . Tyrion. . . Tyrion!" He looked around at his command tent which was mostly empty. . He noticed a stirring on the desk with peripheral vision and began to slowly turn towards the direction of the disturbance. His eyes caught the glimpse of an jet onyx colored bird with eyes fiery orange that shone so brightly, he had to shield himself from immediate eye contact. Tyrion heard the reverberating crescendo of "CAW-CAW-CAW-CAW!"
He awoke, sweating from his slumber with a start. He looked around the tent quicker than his dream-state self was able too and calmed himself with a simple meditative prayer to Esuna for steadiness. He ran his right hand through his hair as he sat up in bed and attempted to shake the grogginess. Both hands were used to prop him up and he began to think on the dream he had just experienced before the thoughts fluttered away. "A grinning raven?. . . What in Her name was that about?" Tyrion rose from his bed in the temple. He had been summoned for a meeting and the affairs of the religion required attention. Slipping on his slippers he made his way towards this desk and looked out the window. . "Curious sight that." A pile of sand and a dark black feather sat atop each other. Rubbing the stubble on his chin, he could only stair in wonderment trying to decipher what Esuna intended for him or what new task had been bestowed upon him.
Flashes of a Raven
Moderator: RP Moderators
Re: Flashes of a Raven
The Citizen grabbed the decanter and refilled his cup. Tyrion sipped the spirit jubilantly. The meeting with the Ocllo People had gone well. His deserved drink, bought by a citizen in his honor could not be turned down. The truth of the matter was, he had a soft spot for the finer wines of the land. Vintage liquor he hoped could one day be introduce to The People as a potential industry to profit from. The exploration into that market was years from completion but the idea piqued Tyrion's interest nonetheless. During the conversation, Tyrion's thoughts drifted towards the bizarre. Such a queer dream that was, he thought. The implications left many questions unanswered and even more, a burning desire to unravel them. His thoughts continued to drift towards a destination that he found to be the oddest specter of a land that existed. He bid his farewell to the Ocllo Citizens and made his way back to the temple. After completing the chant, he disappeared from the island conquest and reappeared in the temple grounds within the span of seconds. He bid greetings too the trainees at the altar and made his way to the archives. . . or rather, the storage area for tomes and old manuscripts. He recently had utilized such a book to discover the blood relation of an older member of Imperial and that recent success spurred him on to new heights. "Aghh, there you are," Tyrion said as he claimed victory amidst the gathering dust cloud; a direct effect of his rummaging about through chests and items that had scarcely been touched since the relocation to Moonglow. Arm-pitting the book, he moved outside; breathing in the fresh air, he made his way for his home in Moonglow for a quiet reading session.
Re: Flashes of a Raven
Tyrion slammed the book closed. His eyes shifted from the tome in his hand to stare off into the distance. His thoughts were occupied with memories of old. He realized that the gap between when he left his Goddess side and returned to the Order was a substantial lapse in time and he had missed much. He closed his eyes to try and focus harder. . . it seemed as if a wall manifested itself each time he moved down a lane of his memory. Opening his eyes, he sighed in defeat. . "I need to think of this differently. What are my clues: a bizarre dream, a raven's feather, a pile of sand, possibly a location?" He sighed again. . "Research into decrepit manuscripts has taken me as far as possible. It is time to visit potential locations where these clues can be found. First stop is Magincia. I will do some questioning into the events of a skirmish that recently transpired not to long ago and be on the lookout for any indicators related to my premonition. I have faith She will reveal these matters to me in time."
Re: Flashes of a Raven
Tyrion landed on the Magincia docks to a somewhat lackluster celebratory welcoming. Many of the dockworkers regarded him with a look of curiosity but ignored him for the most part. "Land ho!" Tyrion looked over his shoulder, first to his left and then to his right and saw other Imperialists disembark from their privateers.
"Did you think we would let you come here without support, brother?" Alaric said rather passionately. "Aye, can't let you run off and dying now can we?" Viven said. Nodding William Sinclair disembarked from Alaric's privateer and trodded over to join the landing party. "Hopefully the guards will be amicable and allow us free passage to conduct our investigations," Tyrion thought aloud. "Don't hold ye breathe brother," Viven responded. They made their way up the stairs and were met by a startled guardsman whom quickly unsheathed his sword. "You are not welcome in this town, Imperialist!" "Whoa! We mean no harm good sir, we are here searching for answers and would like to meet the leaders of this town to secure such passage." The guardsmen slammed the window of his plate helm shut and said, "You are NOT welcome in this town, Imperialist!" Tyrion grinned and said, "I can see you are determined in your duties and I respect that, but we're NOT leaving." The guardsman assumed a fighting stance and moved cautiously towards their position. Before continuing on the guardsman stopped to sound the alarm by ringing a bell feverishly back and forth. "Summon our soldiers!" Tyrion barked. Alaric began casting with haste. The rest of the landing party took up defensive positions around Alaric to ward off any advantage that might be sought from his vulnerable state and the fray was joined. Tyrion made his way to query citizens in the town feeling confident that the others could manage.
Ultimately no positive leads were yielded. The landing party continued their battle against the guardsmen that denied them entry. Tyrion rejoined the party on the shores of Magincia. His brothers and sister kept a vigil while he spent a brief moment in revere.
Tyrion uttered a small prayer of thanks to The Goddess. "Our actions here have put us on a dangerous course, Brothers and Sister. I feel in my core that this is a pre-ordained path that needs to be traveled. It is possible that our actions here will be seen as the opening salvos of a new campaign, while this may not necessarily be the case, we will tread lightly."
"Did you think we would let you come here without support, brother?" Alaric said rather passionately. "Aye, can't let you run off and dying now can we?" Viven said. Nodding William Sinclair disembarked from Alaric's privateer and trodded over to join the landing party. "Hopefully the guards will be amicable and allow us free passage to conduct our investigations," Tyrion thought aloud. "Don't hold ye breathe brother," Viven responded. They made their way up the stairs and were met by a startled guardsman whom quickly unsheathed his sword. "You are not welcome in this town, Imperialist!" "Whoa! We mean no harm good sir, we are here searching for answers and would like to meet the leaders of this town to secure such passage." The guardsmen slammed the window of his plate helm shut and said, "You are NOT welcome in this town, Imperialist!" Tyrion grinned and said, "I can see you are determined in your duties and I respect that, but we're NOT leaving." The guardsman assumed a fighting stance and moved cautiously towards their position. Before continuing on the guardsman stopped to sound the alarm by ringing a bell feverishly back and forth. "Summon our soldiers!" Tyrion barked. Alaric began casting with haste. The rest of the landing party took up defensive positions around Alaric to ward off any advantage that might be sought from his vulnerable state and the fray was joined. Tyrion made his way to query citizens in the town feeling confident that the others could manage.
Ultimately no positive leads were yielded. The landing party continued their battle against the guardsmen that denied them entry. Tyrion rejoined the party on the shores of Magincia. His brothers and sister kept a vigil while he spent a brief moment in revere.
Tyrion uttered a small prayer of thanks to The Goddess. "Our actions here have put us on a dangerous course, Brothers and Sister. I feel in my core that this is a pre-ordained path that needs to be traveled. It is possible that our actions here will be seen as the opening salvos of a new campaign, while this may not necessarily be the case, we will tread lightly."
Re: Flashes of a Raven
The privateer drifted close enough for the landing party to disembark. Leading their horses onto shore they gathered themselves for a regroup. "Everybody ok?" Tyrion said. "My stomach is grateful we landed. The corals around these parts are treacherous indeed. Our captain should be commended for such skillful navigation," Alaric said optimistically. "I will need time to walk the streets, -alone-. ." Tyrion said, making sure to emphasize the alone. Nodding the others understood.
Tyrion made his way into the city with a cowl draped over his body. The look would have raised eyebrows were it not for commonality of the appearance in Nujel'M. He made an extra effort to hide his face from the guards. He witnessed a guardsmen accosting a merchant. "Protection money," Tyrion silently muttered. He spit on the ground to reflect his disgust. Finding the guards responsible in this city would not be easy, he thought to himself. "That investigation will have to be put on hold for the meantime. Unless they are indeed identified by a witness, the chances of coming across them are minute. He continued to make his way through the town until he came across execution square. The blood on the ground was fresh and there were collections of blood in multiple areas around the implements used to meat out, 'justice'. The guards standing watch regarded Tyrion with a curious but fortunately uninterested gaze and returned to guarding their 'lawful courthouse'. He meandered along the road until he heard but not saw a raven perched atop a tall wall. In the blistering heat, the sun beamed down through his sprawled hands as he tried to catch a glimpse of the bird. The sounds were unmistakable though. Tyrion summoned the memories of his dream where the noise was figuratively speaking, beat into his head.The raven caw'd repeatedly and hopped north along the wall skipping over misplaced stones, where the mortar had been beat into disrepair. Tyrion continued following it until he came to a set of steel grated gates. He looked around and found the area safe enough to reveal his presence. He summoned forth a guard detail to watch over the entrance and returned his attention to the palace.
Tyrion forced the gate open with a little bit of effort. Surprisingly when the home was ransacked and reposed by the island authorities, money which most likely went to feed the coffers of the defunct king, they had taken little care to boarding up the place to keep away any potential vagrants that could take up residence. Regardless, Tyrion made his way up the steps and paused for a moment. He turned his head to regard the door at first, and then the walls, and then the entire front portion of the house. Tyrion cast a divination rite to reveal what he had suspected. The entire palace was bathed in an invisible orange film that denied entry to all but the most determined. So in this case, vagrants would not be able to claim a home here. He made his way through the mythal and entered the palace. A rush of nostalgia and memories flooded his mind almost too quickly for him to keep up with all of them. The moment of vertigo passed but when he regained his senses, he was on the floor and holding his head with both hands in some futile attempt to alleviate the pressure he had felt. Tyrion rose to his feet and remembered everything. He convocated his brothers and sister so that they too could share in the vision.
Tyrion continued to stalk the halls of the palace remembering fragmentation of memories that he believed in a large part were his own. His brothers and sisters began to depart to search the palace for their own memories. He instructed all of them to meet in the garden on the south side of the mansion when they were ready. Tyrion paced back and forth gathering his thoughts and making sure they were aware of the course ahead. The visions I have been having, which most of you were aware of were sweat filled dreams that have lead us to this sandy island. I came on the whim of only 2 clues and with Her direction and guidance. This island and the island of Magincia are important, not only to our Order but to the Goddess we all love and serve. While Magincia offers a strategic prize, Nujel'm has more of a religious connotation that ALL of you now hear.
"Esuna's influence has remained strong on this island. The soul of Raven Darkblade's essence has endured. By Her divine grace we are here, at the end of a difficult and mysterious journey, a fork in the road where we were directed towards. The time has come my brethren!" Tyrion finished by reminding them all that the days ahead would be difficult, but that the course had been laid in. They gathered themselves and regrouped in front of the palace to assume battle formations.
Re: Flashes of a Raven
Tyrion knew the stakes. The staging points had been established and there was no turning back now, they were committed. His thoughts swam swiftly in his mind, taking in all the angles, assessing the battle readiness of his troops, the spacing, the thrusts and ripostes that would need to be executed to perfection to establish the momentum they would need going into this new round of sieges.
He would lead from the rear, this time. The need for coordination was essential. He would not allow the siege to fail before it had begun. A veteran of these events, Tyrion had, "the eye". A keen eye for observation of the strengths and weaknesses of sustaining the protracted battle of siege warfare. Morale was high, he could see that in the demeanor of his men. The precision of their strikes, the gusto in their battle fervor could not be missed. They wanted this, perhaps, they needed this victory more than he had thought. Tyrion felt right, about this decision. Quickly reassessing the battle he continued to urge his troops on.
The first days fighting had been completed successfully and with acceptable casualties. Although there would be many difficult days ahead, he gathered his men in the recently liberated parliament building for an after battle speech, to praise their bravery, commitment, sing praise to Esuna for Her support, to share in the days personal experiences and excitement and finally to ensure they understood the seriousness of their current course. Calming them after the bloodrush of battle was a difficult task, he spoke to them and over them, allowing the banter to continue as he knew they had earned their victory that day and deserved their time for revelry.
At the end of the fighting he sent a magical message to the leader of Nature to discuss matters that had recently become items of interest, Tyrion outlined the items briefly for him:
Agenda
Imperial & Natures political relations and stance
Order of Law
Cult of Dennac
Telborean Kingdom
Hunting necromancers
Order of Nature future plans
etc.
As bothersome as the task would be, he realized that the matters of state were as important as extending the boundaries of the One True Faith.
Re: Flashes of a Raven
Tyrion made a mark onto the parchment. The symbolic nature of that marking represented another day successfully concluding the ongoing sieges. The attacks were consistent and the battles vicious but the victor was beginning to become more and more evident. "the pendulum swings in our favor my Goddess," Tyrion stated reverently. He spoke indirectly and at nobody in particular. From the looks of the siege, he could determine that there was not much left to siege. . The citizenry did not put up a fight against his forces, nor did they seem to be bothered by events unfolding around them. So long as they are left alone, they would be uninterested in the matters of war. He could respect that. The battle was over but he knew the tyrannical Brits would bring reinforcements, "they always shore up the defenses with lambs to the slaughter." He would never understand their thinking. Are these holdings, so far removed from the mainland and their seat of power, Britain, worth the cost of sacrificing their countrymen, Tyrion thought absently. He knew it mattered not, the more men they brought, the more he would send to the afterlife. He sighed a bit, exhausted from the thought. Tyrion brought his hand above his brow to shield the rays of the sun. He glanced out towards the south-eastern end of the island and could see a dot on the horizon. "More reinforcements. . . . ." The siege would continue until those tiny dots ceased to mar the beautiful ocean scenery from either of the island cities.
Tyrion received a message and quickly unfurled the piece of parchment. The words were written in haste but he could decipher Ondoher's handwriting . "Tyrion, gather what forces you can, that are not already committed to the sieges and meet me at the Britain graveyard. - Ondoher." "What is Ondoher doing there?" Shaking the thought away he focused on the task ahead and recalled himself back to temple and began to prepare for another battle.
A Daring Raid
Ondoher convocated Tyrion and briefed him hastily. "What is going on Ondo?" Tyrion said. "We are launching an attack on the relocated temple of the whitecoats! Quickly summon your guard and begin coordinating the arrival of additional Imperialists; I go to secure the front!" Ondoher reared his steed around and galloped off at a lightning pace with his personal guard detail at his heels. After hours of coordination and communication he was happy with the result. What started out to be a small force capable of skirmishing briefly, quickly developed into a full scale battle with forces from the Imperial isles pouring into the battlefield, heeding the call. There was a back and forth for quite some time; either side gaining a foothold only to lose it a moment later. The last gasp of the whitewalkers came when they pushed the Imperial forces beyond the initial starting line at the graveyard. Esuna was with them though and proof of that was seen as Ondoher lead a counter-attack that saw the morale of the whitewalkers broken as he crashed into their line with divine power and sent them reeling back into the streets of the city of Britain. Scattered and demoralized the whitecoats continued to fight, valiantly, Tyrion had to admit, but ultimately futile resistance.
Their efforts brought the attack force to the drawbridge leading into the castle of the relocated altar. "We are at our prize!" William proclaimed. "About time, how many soldiers do they have left ready to die for the fat king?" Azrael stated. The answer was obvious as the castle guard had been emptied to deter the counter-attack and not many remained to defend the entrance let alone raise the drawbridge. "A tactical error if I've ever seen one," Tyrion slyly mentioned. Within minutes they were within the hallowed halls of the lackies of Winchester. A silent hush emitted from the recesses of the alcove. Cautiously the warriors entered with ever vigilant eyes. After searching through the ante-chamber they found no sign of the king nor the royal family. "They must have been evacuated," Karidis mentioned disappointingly. "Aye, but we do have this," Tyrion pointed to the white marble slick table-top counter standing amid the equatorial center within the regal hall.
Eyeing the now destroyed temple grounds of the whitewalkers, Tyrion made his way behind the altar and observed the chair Gothrim had decided to place his Imperial keister. "Enjoying yourself?" Tyrion asked. "Oh, indeed I am brother. Those horses are magnificent creatures but they are truly well endowed in the buttocks area, where I am not," Gothrim stated rather innocently. Tyrion grinned as he watched Gothrim attempt to create a groove in the cushioned seat.
Gothrim fell-over and his cloak draped around his face. He became lost in the ensuing confusion that he continued to fight gravity's hold on him and flailed about helplessly over the recently pilfered chests and through the curtains into the darkness behind them. The laughter that followed was well received and all shared in the mirth of the moment. After corrupting the altar with as much power that Esuna could bestow upon them, they made their exit from the halls, fully aware that surrounding cities would soon be if they were not already emptying their garrison to reclaim the entirety of the capital that the whitewalkers failed to protect.
Re: Flashes of a Raven
Tyrion trotted forward to meet the party. Under the banner of a white flag, the captain of the guard approached; Tyrion knew what this meant. The town of Magincia would soon capitulate and then the others would topple like dominoes thereafter. Tyrion kept his composure though, he would not allow himself nor his men to betray their honor or discard their decorum so haphazardly. "The meeting with the whitecoats most have gone well," Alaric stated. "Indeed Brother. I feel as though our long journey is coming to an intermission, and soon we will be tested with another challenge. Peace with the whitewalkers. ." Alaric scowled. "Such a thing has not been known in my time, nor yours, past or present." Tyrion thought about that quietly. He nodded to affirm the statement. "Things change brother, that is the constant in life. Let us see what path Esuna has laid out for us and pray we have the fortitude to meet destiny head-on." Alaric spit and made a half-hearted effort to nod. "This could be a trap you know." "I know," Tyrion replied quickly. "We must trust in Esuna, She will light the path for us as She always has. Her wisdom brought me back to you and the Brotherhood, after-all." Alaric spit again, looked at Tyrion, back to the party coming forward to meet them, nodded and said, "Aye. . true enough." "Trust in Her brother, these things will work themselves out. Time and time again we have gone with the flow of events in this world, regardless, sometimes heedless of the consequences, but allowing our fates to be guided vicariously through Her. Not all paths are paved in orangey-gold coins brother. Esuna sets the compass, we steer the ship. It is up to us to traverse the dangerous waters of this world as carefully as possible." Nodding, Alaric put a hand on his hip, raised an outstretched hand signaling the approaching party that they had reached a distance adequate enough to speak from. The talks began and shortly after, the remainder of the town guard began boarding ships for the mainland. Tyrion knew that this was just the beginning of a long road for the Order, The People and the Kingdom.
Re: Flashes of a Raven
He watched the fat king make an attempt to lean forward. How does one get to be so portly, Tyrion wondered to himself. Tyrion continued to watch as obtrusively large man struggled to position himself to read the parchment outlining the details of the treaty. "Spectacles!" the fat king bellowed. A servant ran up and knelled, elevating two outstretched hands. In those outstretched hands was a pillow. Upon the pillow rested the fat kings spectacles. He reached up with one plump hand to grab the them. The process repeated itself when the king beckoned for a quill. The entire scene disgusted Tyrion. Tyrion surmised that entire ordeal wasted a quarter of the day and could have only guessed that the fat kings stamina was capable of enduring not much longer. The attempts to impress upon him and his fellow Imperialists the power the fat king wielded was not lost on them. The images of such demeaning behavior, and for a king, no less, would not be forgotten. The images would be seared into Tyrion's mind forever. Such opulent displays of wealth. The lavish banquet that was thrown in their honor. for losing a war, territory, people. The logic of it all did not compute for Tyrion.
The day grew into night and night into the next day. Tyrion was utterly spent. But he realized that today was a new dawn for the fledgling People and the Order of Imperial. They had achieved a feat that for years prior had been thought impossible. They had bested the fat kings best men, his elite guard, the Order of Law. Again and again and again, battle after battle they had shown they were not whom they once were. The final nail in the proverbial coffin came when the assault on the relocated temple occurred. They mustered the strength of their entire order to beat back the onslaught, but the orange robed men of the Imperial nation would not be denied. They counter attacked and with the strength of The One true Goddess behind them, they had come out victorious. It was the final act to an already drawing curtain. The fat king sued for peace immediately thereafter to ensure a majority of his mainland kingdom remained intact before an invasion fleet set sail for a city that was not an island. The thought frightened the round king.
They departed as quickly as they had arrived to the temple for rest and relaxation. Many were spent and attrition had begun to take its toll. It was time to decompress, and many whether they showed it or not visibly, were ready to enjoy a bit of peace and quiet. He hoped they enjoyed it, for as long as it may last. Because in a few days, the real battle would begin, reconstruction. It would be a difficult thing to accept, peace, life without strife. For many, it was all they knew, the wanton hatred, the constant fighting. It was good they would know a bit of respite, even if it did have an expiration date. For that, he thanked Esuna and hymned a prayer in Her honor.
The day grew into night and night into the next day. Tyrion was utterly spent. But he realized that today was a new dawn for the fledgling People and the Order of Imperial. They had achieved a feat that for years prior had been thought impossible. They had bested the fat kings best men, his elite guard, the Order of Law. Again and again and again, battle after battle they had shown they were not whom they once were. The final nail in the proverbial coffin came when the assault on the relocated temple occurred. They mustered the strength of their entire order to beat back the onslaught, but the orange robed men of the Imperial nation would not be denied. They counter attacked and with the strength of The One true Goddess behind them, they had come out victorious. It was the final act to an already drawing curtain. The fat king sued for peace immediately thereafter to ensure a majority of his mainland kingdom remained intact before an invasion fleet set sail for a city that was not an island. The thought frightened the round king.
They departed as quickly as they had arrived to the temple for rest and relaxation. Many were spent and attrition had begun to take its toll. It was time to decompress, and many whether they showed it or not visibly, were ready to enjoy a bit of peace and quiet. He hoped they enjoyed it, for as long as it may last. Because in a few days, the real battle would begin, reconstruction. It would be a difficult thing to accept, peace, life without strife. For many, it was all they knew, the wanton hatred, the constant fighting. It was good they would know a bit of respite, even if it did have an expiration date. For that, he thanked Esuna and hymned a prayer in Her honor.