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Stranger things.....(Razgriz x Lady Bloody Ava)

Mordyval was well versed in the ways of human traditions. One had to know their enemy, become their enemy before taking them on. The ring of flames that surrounded the two were not a shocking sight. The lost lives of his brethren lay heavily on his soul as he had planned to die on this battlefield defending his kin or walk away alive with the victory in his hands. Either way, he would be bringing them one step closer. he could only hope that no more lives were lost, but in wars... that was seldom the case.The sky had come to match the anger upon the field. The wind churning the bloody river that ran so deep. Droplets of water washing the blood soaked grounds. Anger sounded in thunderous cries and crackles across the darkening skies as the flames seemed surrounding them seemed to flicker, almost out of fear at the sudden change, but none the less remained burning in a show of wicked splendor.

The human was strong and it only made the general crack a wicked smile. A challenge. How he loved a challenge, ever one to test himself, he put his best foot forward.Sparks flew as metal clashed. Muscle against muscle, tactic verses tactic. A whole new rush ran through his entire being. Beads of sweat glistening upon his brow. The rain pelting at his armor, the wind whipping at the tattered cape. The archers were pulled back, being deemed useless in this weather. The groans of the dying and maimed over shadowed by the sound of clashing metal and the thunderous roars of mother nature herself. The rain slickened the cobblestone surface of the bridge as he had to have every mental note of his footing and that of his opponent. Moves were blocked, and blows were dealt.

Mordyval blocked and kept eyes open for a good opportunity to strike, which was proving a tad difficult. The elf seemed to have an advantage with his duel wielding, but her had to have access to a point not covered in armor, while trying to block the great sword being swung. At times he was forced back with the length of the sword and the shortness of his daggers. His helmet was tossed aside. Allowing him a clear view without the hindered vision. He expected no surprising blows from another person and it made him more swift. The pelting rain plastered lengthy golden locks against his skin. He was using up quite a bit of stamina, never mind what he had lost in the battle up to this point. He was skilled and fierce with the blade fighting with no fear of death. ready and willing to embrace it should it be his fate.
 
(Apologies for the delay; was having quite the case of mental block with this one)

Curtis fought with all his valor and bravery, keeping in mind of the flaming circle that surrounded him and his adversary both. The Elven General was quite skilled indeed, his increased speed by dual-wielding daggers more than capable of parrying the blows that the Human General could swing at him. The only real advantage he had was that his sword kept Mordyval at a respectable distance from him; even then, Curtis knew he would eventually have to go for the killing blow; they were weakened and tired, the fatigue of battle combined with the force of the elements battering them made this particular fight even more difficult to bear.

The loud clangs of the metal objects were drowned out by the angry roars of the thundering skies above; each flash and sound seemed to coincide with the collision of their blades to a fault. Some even came in quick succession, perfectly in time with the bouts of speedy sword-fighting. The few remaining warriors below them realized that fighting even more would be fruitless and had set to gathering the dead to bury them; both sides would be facing catastrophic amounts of casualties from this initial fight alone. The warriors that the Elven King had sent would serve as nothing more than undertakers and spectators, helping to remove the armored corpses from the battlefield and watch the ensuing one-to-one combat as now the fighting had come down to solely General Curtis Cul de Louf and General Mordyval. Both would embrace the Reaper with open arms should they fall by their opponent's blade.

As the fighting dragged on, both sides pressing their bodies to the absolute limit, Curtis was beginning to wear out; his swings had less force, and his movements became sloppier and sloppier. The cold of the rain had also slipped through the cuts in his armor, chilling the metal that encased him and draining even more of his energy as the cold sapped what body heat he had left. His breathing grew heavy, and his arms increasingly feeling like lead weights. Eventually, however, he would see an opening; he swung his blade hard, knocking Mordyval's hands out of the way and flipped it so that the battered metal length was pointed directly at the Eleven General's chest. He unfortunately had left himself open; the hits that Mordyval had landed on him were now exposed, and provided several fatal strike points for him to exploit should he take notice. "DIE, MORDYVAL!" Curtis shouted over the cry of the thunder as the tip began to plummet towards the Elven General, drawing closer and closer to his exposed neck. Time around him seemed to slow down, as if letting him see every moment of what his weary mind thought would be the battle's end.
 
The elve's strength was being sapped with each movement . This human was a worthy adversary and for one peaceful moment he found himself proud to die by his blade. Should that be his fate. His body was cold from the wet rain having seeped into his armor and made his skin cling to his weary form. His muscles were screaming with each forced flex, but he would not allow himself to give up just yet. The sound of metal echoed in his ears. Primal grunts with each attempt at snuffing out one another's life, and when it seemed that both would inevitably die of exhaustion he was caught off guard. One dagger was knocked out of his hands and he soon found the tip of the human's blade pointed at his chest.

The two had so much in common, it was sad that things had come to this. It was too late to take notice in this. No much blood had been spilled, and for what? A few differences in decision that held no life or death meaning, yet here they stood upon a plane piled his with the lifeless corpses of their kin. Were they not all comprise of blood and flesh? Both felt equal pain and only wished to see their kin in peace. This hit Mordyval like a ton of brick and at the worst possible time. Seconds seemed like days and in the last few seconds of his life... Mordyval had switched sides. Yet he would watch from the heavens and hope for the peace his Queen had often spoken of.

Death held a sharp pain. He could not even hear his own muffled sounds of agony as the sanguine fluid spilled from his body. In the time that his body fell to the ground the only dagger he held was not as it once was. Rather than holding the hilt of the small weapon, grasped tightly in his hand was the blade. "Well... done." His last words were but a whisper upon his lips as blood spilled from the corners of his mouth as the crimson fluid ran rampant through his lungs and dyed a portion of the bridge's surface a glorious red hue. His last view was the darkened sky above, which suddenly grew peaceful. No sound of clapping thunder. Void of the sound of cashing metal. The light of life leaving his eyes. The rain seemed to slow down and at the last beat of his heart, the ring of fire was no more. He died as a warrior and was more than proud, but it was meaningless.

The Dark Army had arrived too late. They were well versed in the knowledge of the ritual that took place between the human and their general. One dark elf to a step forward, but a palm to the chest from his kin held him back. They were instructed to collect the bodies of their kin. A few mages amongst them levitated them onto carriages that had carried a few members of the army, rather than on foot. Some bodies were unrecognizable and seldom few were clinging to life, but would no doubt die, they moment their bodies were removed from the wreckage that was the battlefield. It seemed a silent moment of peace, but many watched as their General fought with great valor and were dismayed to see his life ended in such a way.

Yet, it was a matter of pride. It would be dishonorable to attack the human after such a battle. Like stabbing someone with their back turned. The number of deceased seemed endless and more than one trip was made to retrieve their fallen soldiers. General Mordyval was the last to be taken away.


King Sylvari was astounded at the damage they had taken and it dealt a great blow to his heart to see so many of his faithful companions deceased. it had him questioning the worth of this battle. Queen Araana was sickened at the sight and took to being ill and confined to her bed chambers. Of course Princess Eola had yet to see either of her parents and when told that her mother was sick and that should be able to leave the confines of her bed chambers to visit her, she knew not whether to be happy or sad. Happy that she could leave her room for a little while and sad that her mother's illness was the reason for it. On the way her eyes wandered and they passed a window and she happened to to lay eyes upon the sight of Mordyval's lifeless corpse being burned in a ceremonial ritual, to send his life onto the next.

Her breath was caught in her throat and soft lips parted in a gasp at the heinous sight. Why? Who? How? "N-No.... no, no, no...No!" She screamed and she managed two steps before two guards held her back from the sight and her pedagogue held her in her arms. A hug so tight, she could hardly move. Like hugging the princess would make her forget what she had seen. Tears streamed down the ivory skin of her cheeks when she arrived in her mother's room. Queen Araana sat up in her large lush bed and her smile disappeared at the sight of her saddened daughter. "We are in war with the humans, are we not?" her mother did not have to speak. Eola join her mother at her bed side and was wrapped in her mother's arms.

Both women would see nothing to this battle. Nothing to gain and yet so much to lose. A few days later Queen Araana spoke to her husband as she continued to remain ill within bed. "Eola can not stay here. She must be taken somewhere... far. Far away from here. Somewhere safe. A carriage along the back roads. I have found this to be the better route. She knows what goes on. No matter how hard we try I will never feel she is safe within these walls." Otho had not seen his daughter in several days. The battle had seeped its effects into the walls of his home and managed to make an impact on his daughter. "I will have the arrangements made." Otho reassured his wife. Strong fingers raking through her silky tendrils as he placed a much needed and missed kiss upon her lips before he left and made more preparations for the next move.

He found the Council arguing in the circle room. "A treaty!" "No!! Send men undercover and hit them where it hurts!" "This is not a game Hector, we have lost enough good men as we speak!" "And as we speak the humans are plotting their next move to have even more of us come to an unforseen end." "You speak as though you are the one risking his life in the name of our king and the noble families." Another effect of this wretched war.

"SILENCE!" King Sylvari demanded as he pondered what to do next as the arguments died down.
 
(Gah, sorry for the huge delay! Having some serious mental block with some of my stories on top of school. But know that I have not lost interest! *valiant pose*)
Curtis stood there, a good portion of his blade sunk into the lung of his adversary; from beneath the battered casing that was his helmet, his eyes watched as the Elven General's fingers loosened their grip on the daggers. He was so very open he attacked, and yet Mordyval had failed to strike him down; it wasn't like him to just ignore a golden opportunity like that to end a foe. Did he truly best the fearsome General Mordyval of King Sylvari's army? So many thoughts whirled through his mind as the storm above them cleared, the sounds of thunder and onslaught of torrential downpour beginning to lessen. A small 'clink' snapped Curtis out of his thoughts, seeing the Elven General's fingers wrapped around the blade; within moments, the first rays of sunlight broke through the neavy cloud layer, seeming to commemorate the victory here as the fire surrounding them started to flicker and disappear as Mordyval slumped to the ground, a trickle of red painting the corner of his mouth.

Though it could not be seen, Curtis was both in despair and glee; gleeful that he had won, but saddened at the loss of such a worthy opponent. "Well done to you as well, General Mordyval of the Elven Kingdom of King Sylvari" Curtis then said, replying to the words his opponent had spoken before Death had claimed his soul. As a token of respect, Curtis knelt down and ran his fingers over the Elven General's face, closing the warrior's eyelids to help his spirit finally find peace from this hellish mortal shell they'd all endured. At last, the smoldering embers of flame from Nex Sacramentum died away, concluding the life-and-death battle that had occurred between them. Today was won; still, this battle had been so massive in scale, and yet it was likely many more would follow. Not that Curtis minded; still, he was only human, and he needed rest. And there was the matter of the dead to attend to; so many lives. Lost in the flames of war; seemed the Rider of the Red Horse had left his mark, indeed.

The remaining human Knights, however, saw this not as a time to go easy on their enemies; several of them shouted "CHARGE!" and raised their swords to the heavens, as if readying themselves for another assault. However, a blade soon whistled through the air, the point embedding itself in the soft soil of the creekbed in front of the would-be cavaliers. Heads turned towards where it had been thrown from; General Curtis himself was staring at them, his rage-filled eyes glaring at them from beneath his battered helmet. "You cretinous dogs!" he bellowed, making several of them step back in fear; even with how beat up he was, Curtis was more than a match for a few Knights. The human General continued, "Show some pride! Do you not have a shred of honor after just one day of fighting!? This day is won, and yet you would attack our enemy as they gather their dead! Shameful! If it were up to me, I would execute the lot of you here and now!" He then jumped down from the bridge; thankfully, it wasn't raised too high up, so the fall didn't jar him too much. He then walked over and wrenched his sword from the ground, pointing its chipped tip at the survivors, "Now, start gathering the dead and return to Evugid! Before I lose mine temper....." That was all it took to convince them to start working immediately; wagons and carts of dead bodies were extricated from the mass of dead soldiers in the creek, being carried that oh-so-short distance between the battleground and Evugid.

Throngs of onlookers watched on as load after load of dead bodies were hauled in from the site of conflict; Trystram was not surprised by how many had died. In fact, he expected no survivors to come back at all; still, this day was a heavy one indeed. And this would only lead to more bloodshed; the Red Horseman had come to the mortal realm, and his presence would spread strife and discord across the lands. The Rider of the Green Horse would follow, that fiendish scythe of his claiming more lives than anyone might imagine, from both sides, and then would come the Riders of the Black and Pale Horses, and then....No, Armageddon would not follow, no matter what the holy book said.

Nonetheless, Trystram could see it plain as day; history was going to come full circle, just as it always did. An endless cycle of blaming, fighting, fathers and sons burying the other. And it wouldn't be long before the Inner Circle got the chance to play its part in all of this; the Head Paladin knew that his apprentice, that young boy Abel, would unfortunately go right with him. And the boy was right there with him, watching the heaps of dead be carted to the undertaker to be stripped of their armor and prepared for cremation. "Sire, is this....." Abel started to say, his pale eyes wide with horror; Trystram just squeezed his shoulder and said, "Yes Abel, this is the price of war. And it's only going to get worse, so harden your heart, but cloud not your mind, lest you lose focus of the reason for which you raise your blade. Now come, it's time you got back to your studies". Trystram then led the boy away; he didn't need to see anymore. At least, for now.

The advisers to Richard had just compiled the casualty reports; the dead numbered in the thousands. A relative few died of sword wounds or arrow piercings, the rest were killed by magic; those damned Elves were always one step ahead with their magic. Another aide rushed into the room, "Sire.....We've just received word that Haggard is marching his troops in from the Northern Territories". Richard nodded, replying, "Good, we need the reinforcements. No doubt the Elves will strike us at some point; we may have sent the majority of our Knights to this battle, but our plan to reinforce defenses at our outlying colonies will hopefully prevent any innocent casualties". Another aide then spoke up, "Sire, perhaps we should strike now; scouting reports have revealed a trail that encircles the Borderwoods......it's a back door right into the Kingdom of the Elves. We can strike at their heart, Sire!" Another chimed in, "Are you mad? Those lands are teeming with Orcs! Anyone sent in there would become another trophy for their sick little war dances!" A third then added, "Send some of those in the Inner Circle I say; been a while since they've had a good fight, would be a good way to keep themselves versed. They are the best we have, after all".

Richard contemplated everything that had been said; all valid points had been raised. This could be their one opportunity, but he couldn't just send anyone there. The Orc war bands would maul them to death.....If fortune happened to be with them. He shivered upon recounting the tales he'd heard of what Orcs did to humans and anyone else caught invading their territory. Especially the women; the thought of one of his female subjects being used by those...those "things".....was beyond revolting. After a while, he slowly nodded in agreement, looking back up to his team of advisors, "Hmmm....Very well, but this will only be a scouting mission; we can't operate on false assumptions. It would simply let them take advantage of us. But if it does prove to be true......This could be very useful indeed. Send word out immediately!" At this, Richard listed off eight different members of the Inner Circle and quickly sent several messenger boys were sent to advise them of their new assignment.
 
(I am loving it!! I am so eager to get on with the peace!)

Arrangements were soon made with the council. Eola was their only heir to the throne. At least, via bloodline. Without her there was only more chaos beyond the horizon. Little did she know how much hope she instilled amongst her people when she was born. All Queen Araana could think about was the thought of loosing her daughter and her husband. She was saddened, frightful, and somewhat hopeful when the carriage drew up to take her daughter to Dregamar with her dark skinned kin. If the war, heaven forbid, made its way there, the tunneling passageways underground were damn near untraceable and covered a vast amount of land. Eola All Eola knew was that she was being sent somewhere. She had even put up a verbal fight with her mother and father, only to lose. A dark soft cloak hung about her shoulders. Hiding her long golden mane. Beneath the shadow of the clock one could only see the green orbs that acted as portals to her soul. The king, to his own daughter's surprise, was there to see her off with her pedagog and the entourage comprised of a few of Knight Commander Uthal's men.

Beneath the cover of the night was the strategy at hand. King Sylvari hugged his daughter tightly, placing a kiss on her cheek and relinquishing a heavy sigh. Like he had been holding his breath for the longest time. "I love you, my princess. You won't be there for long. Just until these humans calm down a bit. Better safe than sorry." With one more hug she spoke no words. She was, for once, speechless. What could she say that they did not already know or that her mother had not already voiced to her father? "Have been practicing your arcane arts?" She gave him smile at the sound of his concern. He had not seen how she had improved so well in the short time of his absence. A small hand reached into a satchel strapped to her hip and she grabbed a handful of ash and ground it in her palm and turned away from the carriage and opened her palm where a pretty blue flame sat. She blew into the weak light and the flames ventured almost three feet in length with a mighty roar that none would have expected from such a little flame. The heat licking at the flesh of those around her. She closed her palm and the flame was snuffed.

"I will be fine father... I promise." No matter the skill he would still worry about his only child. She had blossomed so much. She was no longer the tiny girl who would cling to his leg when it stormed outside. Nor was she the little girl who was so innocently ignorant of the violent ways of those who lived upon this earth with her. She was never one to deal damage. This much he knew. He knew not how she would handle herself in a harsh situation, and at the thought scenario after scenario plagued his mind. He was certainly more hesitant to have her leave now. Who better to guard and protect her than her own father? But was a whole kingdom to protect. This was the best he could do for her now. Queen Araana hugged her daughter and fought back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. "Stay low, my love. Do not use your gifts unless necessary. Absolutely necessary. In the end they may drain you if you over do them." One more kiss upon the forehead and she was led into the enclosed carriage.

A few Knights of Dregamar and a few Silver Knights were her escorts. Word would be brought back when she safely arrived at the destination of her father's choice. She looked out of the port hole of the carriage and watched as the horses began walking and the vision of her parents grew smaller and smaller. Miss Helena was silent and sat across from her pupil. Watching her as Eola looked at the armors knights riding on the backs of horses at their side. The pace stared off slow. Like they were not trying to draw attention to themselves. She knew what could await them. She too had played out various scenarios for this venture. Many had not ended well. She removed the hood of her cloak and the very top of her head was adorned with the thin cold circlet with a few small gems.

The ride seemed to take forever. At some point the ride stopped. The head guard heard something rustling on the forest edge where they had been traveling. "Hold on, My Lady." It was not a good sights. She heard a roar pierce the quiet of the night. And several heavy footsteps approaching. Miss Helena had already gasped and was uttered a prayer beneath her breath. The carriage had suddenly taken off throwing the princess back and Miss Helena forward. As the carriage sped off, something came in contact with one of the wheels and tilted the entire thing off to the side. The sound of clashing metal rang through the air.

Eola had hit her head rather hard, but Miss Helena was completely knocked out cold. The young girl shook the older elven woman to no avail. The door was suddenly opened from above and her heart skipped a few much needed beats until she saw it was one of her own. "Come!! Now!!!
The knight yelled in a deep voice. She was hesitant to leave Miss Helena behind, but she was given little choice. Upon emerging she saw the attackers. Tall and green, dawning leather armor and massive war hammers, clubs, and even a great sword. She gasped before looking over her shoulder. They were surrounded. What did they want?!
 
It would be quite the number of days before the Inner Circle troop could deploy; King Richard insisted on having them take three of the Black Brothers' newest weapons; Ulthane told them it would be a good chance to see how well this weapon might do what it's supposed to do. Orrin had not arrived yet, so they were hoping to get a working model of the weapon itself ready before those pointy-eared, bearded half-lings tore their creations asunder and give a seemingly endless list of critiques on how this wasn't good enough, or how they should have worked the metal this way. Ulthane respected the Dwarves for their ability in metal working, but to criticize his work was blasphemous in his eyes. Still, he truly wanted to see what this weapon could do; however, the last battle left much of the armor destroyed, so now it was up to him and his younger brother to fix it all and try to recover what they could not use for other things.

Regardless, the troop - consisting of three Knights of the Inner Circle: Head Paladin Sir Trystram Delyens, Paladins Sir Arthur and Sir Justin, and Junior Knights Sir Florence and Sir Agravaine - was ready to go whenever the order was given. They were indeed a force to be reckoned with, and with the mission they were about to undertake, they needed to be. The plan was simple: Cerian the Fire-Mage, who recovered rather nicely from his trying battle at Whiterun Creek, and his brother Serish the Wind-Mage, would back up a frontal attack force threatening to break through the Borderwoods and attack the castle. This distraction should create the perfect opportunity for them to sneak in the back door to the Jade Palace and kill the Elven King. As Abel helped Trystram ready for battle, getting the Inner Circle's leading Paladin-class Knight dressed in his full armor. Abel just kept his silver eyes looking to the floor as if in concentration. Was this really right? Didn't the King have a family? Abel grew up an orphan, and occasionally his heart panged with regret at seeing the other children with their parents. But he couldn't think of how to ask Trystram this, so he simply kept silent; harden the heart, but keep your mind clear......young Abel was now beginning to understand what his mentor had tried teaching him.

When the last buckle was in place, fully sealing Sir Trystram in some of the strongest armor ever forged, he motioned for Abel - himself dressed in a chainmail suit covered in a simple tunic with a simple helmet to hide the snow-white hair that poked out through the metal-link hood - to follow to the main staging area; Trystram's crimson cape flowed elegantly behind him, the ambient reflecting brilliantly off the surface. Eight valiant white steeds, atop each of which sat the Paladins in their armor and the Junior Knights in their armor, the only difference from Abel's being that their own included armor plates at the joints and vital areas whereas Abel's had none of the sort. Two of them held the Squires of Sir Arthur and Sir Justin; seemed Trystram was not the only one bringing his Squire along for the ride. Once everyone was aboard their horses and their equipment was secure, they rode off along the treacherous route, not knowing what they would find.
The massive warriors looked down at the Elves; there were easily over half a dozen of them. "Look, Urgog, pointy-ear Princess. Fine dress, must be royalty" one of them finally spoke; the others murmured in agreement. One of them started to walk toward the Princess to examine her further; however one of the Silver Guard placed himself between the heiress and the beast, the tip of his ornate sword only inches from the Orc's throat. "If you value your life, beast, you'll not come one step closer" the thin-haired Knight proclaimed, his composure unwavering even in the face of one that could crush him like an insect beneath a falling stone.

"Pointy-ear girl must be Princess, why else shiny-covered pointy-ears protect her? She make excellent pleasure slave for tribe; all pointy-ears always do" the one holding the sword commented; this certainly caused a stir among the other Orcs. "Shiny armor make good tribute for pair-mate, pair-mate like shiny things" one of the warhammer-wielding Orcs added; this only seemed to increase their agitation further. The Silver Guard escorting the Princess tensed up; the Orcs had chosen them as a target, and they knew they would not be satisfied until they had gotten what they had come for. The one who tried to inspect Eola then raised a hand and crashed it into the Elf that threatened him, sending the valiant warrior's body skipping across the ground before sliding to a halt. "Take them!" the largest one roared. "Princess Eola! Run!" Another Silver Knight shouted as he and his brothers took up arms against the attacking Orcs; little did they realize they were about to gain some very unexpected allies.
 
For a princess Eola froze in her footsteps, and inaudible gasp left her lips while the orcs laughed as the valiant knights unconscious body skimmed the hard surface of the ground. Lady Helen was still passed out in the carriage, but out of the Orc's sight, so she was fine, but the idea of these men giving their lives for her was beyond her realm of comprehension. It was a first. Instead she rant to the knight who lay unconscious while swords and hammers clashed. Men dodging the blunt objects. One hammer was adorned with spikes on either end that appear already coated with fresh blood and fur. Her heart was pounding beneath her bosom as she watched another body fly, and the sound of a hammer striking down upon a shield made a horrid noise while metal scraped more metal. One orc shook the ground beneath his very feet as he ran towards Eola. She scrambled to get to her feet and ran. Three of her small footsteps easily equaling one of his. A rock protruded from the ground and Eola had the untimely manner of peering over her shoulder only to trip. The dumb behemoth used in his steps to laugh as she sat on the ground, scooting back. Pausing to reach into her satchel and grabbing a handful of ash. She rubbed and rubbed, but nothing wanted to form. Where was the flame? her mind wasn't clear. She was panicking far too much. Just as the rough green being was mere feet from her the flame appeared and she instantly blew at the flames and the orc roared. Dropping his club in the process and backing away as he feebly attempted to shield his eyes from the flames.

When she was all out of breath she scurried to get off of the ground and ran into the edge of the forest and headed back to where the knights who fought for her were. She pulled the knight from earlier into the woods. She knew not if he was simply unconscious or dead, but if he was still alive, at least he wouldn't be crushed. Apparently one eye caught her running into the woods and she just managed to dodge the hand reaching into the thick of the woods. A high shriek filing the air and the orc found a sword slashing at his ankle, giving Eola more than enough time to scramble onto her feet. A pain seared in her right ankle as the protruding wood scraped and stabbed at it when she had fallen back. It was not painful enough to take all over her attention. Blood simply spilled from her ankle slowly. Another knight yelled at her to run away and she left the forest's edge and made her way down the dirt road, only to hear footsteps coming after her. They wanted her. Not the knights.... her. Her she had untied her cloak and left it in the woods, since it seemed to hold her back. The flat slippers were a blessing considering running in heels seemed a bit problematic.

A few of the men hopped back on the horses and grabbed attention once more, but that strategy was proving problematic with the horses were being knocked down with ease. It was just what her father had feared. One of the dark knights hopped on his horse and scooped up the princess only for both to fall off of the back as a club was thrown.... hard. Knight Logan seemed knocked his head upon the ground, but was still fighting to go, mumbling... "Run... run Your Majesty... run. The club and the war hammers held distance. Still they were slower than a sword, but bound to cause more stunning damage. A knight managed to make low blow at the ankle of the brutish being aiming for their sex slave. Logan carefully got himself up. Forcing his helmet off as the fall had created quite a dent. Dark tendrils falling down to his neck in the form of a ponytail with red eyes glaring. Someone had manage to encased the orc' feet in a binding spell to the ground, but Eola could see the the spell itself would have trouble holding up as the orc fought it off. Eola scrambled to her feet and grabbed a bow from the fallen knight and picked up and arrow on the ground. This was the only thing she was good at. Having just picked it up as a simple hobby, never thinking she would be using it in this manner. The arrow, pulled back, and aimed. Her nerves stilll shakey but the shot fired and the sharpened tip of the arrow lodged itself in the orc's chest.

A might roar rang out once more and the protruding tip of the arrow was broken from the lodged piece and the orc seemed to find the strength to break free of the binding spell as the rest of his large brethren seem to join and Eola soon dropped the bow and ran. A few trailed after her. Pushing aside the knights that tried to get in their way. Eola was panting and the pain was shooting up her ankle and continued to bleed. If only she had a moment, otherwise her leg was going to go completely numb and her knights were going to get themselves killed trying to fight off the orcs.
 
Luckily for Eola, her smaller size relative to her Orc pursuers would help her in this case; they had to push through more brush and trees to try and get to their prize. Even still, given their superior strength and relentlessness, this still wouldn't present a threat to them. As the Elven Princess would run and run, their thundering footsteps and deep-throated roars of aggravation could be heard echoing across the vast expanse beyond where it was the majority of the conflict was located. The Silver Guard that accompanied her were still fighting valiantly against the Orc attackers who sought to slaughter them and defile their Princess, and it was because of their use of magic that they had an advantage in keeping themselves alive at the very least, however slight it may have been. Even still, unless help was received soon, the outcome they feared the worst might just come to fruition.

As Eola might break free of the forest, a small group of eight armed and armored warriors could be seen on the horizon riding right for her and unknown there-but-as-of-yet-unseen pursuers, though they couldn't see her yet either. The hooves of their steeds made sounds of thunder as the Knights of the Inner Circle arrived just in time to see the Orcs break past the barrier of green and brown, their gaze still focused on capturing the Elven heiress and using her body to satisfy their sexual desires and perhaps even impregnate her. "Sir Trystram, look beyond! Orcs!" said Sir Justin, pointed a metal-covered finger at the three greenskins that seemed to be giving chase to someone. "Everyone, increase distance between one another! Sir Florence and Sir Agravaine! Squires Aidan and Benedict, stay behind and provide the rounds for the weapons to use! Everyone else, with me!" Half of the group stopped their mounts and disembarked, preparing the strange tube weapons with practiced precision while the rest rode forth to draw the greenskins in closer.

It was here that Abel noticed the Orcs were giving chase to someone; whoever it was, their garments indicated they were one of royalty. And whoever it was being chased must have had their caravan ambushed by Orc marauders. Either that, or the not-even-remotely-likely scenario was that this royalty figure was running from Orcs just for the fun of it. Regardless, Abel felt a strange sensation run through him; he dropped the load of weapons he was carrying to lighten his horse a bit and shouted "Yah!", nudging the steed he rode on with the spurs of his heels to make the steed ride faster. The young squire would break hard right, then turn just as hard to make it where he was running exactly perpendicular to the direction the Orcs were chasing. The massive greenskins heard the horse approaching and turned to look; their rather dimwitted nature worked against them this time, making them falter in their chase long enough to Abel to dash past and seize the Princess by her arm just as the Orc reached out to try and grab the Princess, pulling the young maiden onto the horse and having her rest between his arms as he rode off out of harm's way. Once he was out of harm's way, he looked down to the person he'd saved and asked, "Are you al......." He stopped, his eyes wide with shock upon realizing that he was holding a young Elven girl in fine robes.

None of this was not lost on Trystram; he would have to talk with the boy later about the reckless nature of his actions, but he couldn't help feeling pride at the courage his charge demonstrated rescuing the unknown victim. "Knights of the Inner Circle! To arms!" the Head Paladin bellowed, he and his two high-ranking and very skilled subordinates riding right for the Orc warriors. Once within striking distance, the brave Knights swung their swords as they rode past on their steeds, each swing successively striking at the ligament in the backs of the behemoth's knees. Each Orc howled loudly and briefly fell to its knees. Trystram seized this opportunity and rode back around, raising his sword high and slashing across the throat of the frontmost beast, dark red blood leaking from the shallow cut. And just as the beast stood to bellow and establish his indestructible nature, a loud explosion was heard and the Orc's head exploded, raining blood and brain matter as the titan's body fell over onto its back with a loud thud.
 
The young princess heard the hooves, but thought it one of her men. Still her feet carried her off. Her heart lodged in her throat and the beating thundered in her ears. She could feel the ground shake with each monstrous step that brought them closer. When she felt a hand around her arm and the clapping of the hooves grow louder she did cry out once until she found herself sitting on the back of a horse. She did not even have to look to know the sounds of the angered behemoths that chased her down. Eola was panting and the pace of her frantically beating heart did not seem to want to ebb to its normal pace. She did feel secure, for the time being. When Eola finally regained the use of her voice she gave her appreciation to the male who saved her. "Thank... you" Her heart did sink a bit. He was human. The others... they were human. She did not know whether to be grateful... or even more frightened. Green orbs looked beyond the chaos to see her elven brethren fighting another orc. The sound of growls and grunts emitting from the green skinned beasts that sought a reward for having started all of this chaos.

They were all holding their ground fairly well. There was a bit of blood from her men, but not nearly as much as what spilled from the slashes and gashes of the orcs. She had the urge to run back tot he carriage and check back on lady Helena, but the battle was not yet done. Especially with her in the arms of a human. He seemed to pose no threat and they had, although she would be her money that it was unknowingly, aided in getting rid of the orcs. A might roar sounded from a Dregamar Knight's lips as another Orc was slain with the thrusting of a great sword though his abdomen. The beast tried to put up a fight, but the blade was unsheathed from the insides of the beast and blood poured forth. A few steps, he took, before he growled and cursed the elves with his final breath. The sound of his club banging upside the earth beneath him. Friend or enemy, Eola could not stand the sight of death. Even if it meant to save her own life. But still, it was as things were to be. She was, needless to say, grateful to still be alive. It was her first near death experience and it was not hitting her like a massive boulder.

She turned and ensnared the human in a hug, thanking him over and over again. An act that seemed to have caught her men off guard. Blood was spilled everywhere. Debri spread upon a nice length of the road, along with the bodies of several Orc. Past her men she saw a portly woman running down the road. "Helena!!" Eola shouted. Grateful the the woman was still in one piece. The woman froze in her tracks. Just as Helena was about toe take another step forward, one of the Silver Knights, named Gabriel, blocked her path with the bloodied length of his sword. "We will be taking her back now." His eyes looked down at the lifeless bodies of their common foe upon the ground. "Damn bloody beasts caught us off guard." Helena intervened. "Prin- eh Eola... are you okay?" Eola looked down upon her bloody ankle. The pain was coming back to her now. "Nothing I can not fix Miss Helena." She had noted how her pedagogue used her first name as opposed to the usual title she was granted- Princess Sylvari. "Thank you... for... saving me." Gabriel looked as though the last thing he wanted to do was put his Princess in harms way. "Come." He waved a hand for the young lad who had saved Eola to come forth and bring her to him. If need be he was more than ready to break chase if they knew who she was and decided to take her hostage.
 
Before Abel could fully understand just what it was he had done, he had rejoined with the rest of Inner Circle, having to fall back to protect this Elven girl. Enemy or no, it was his charge as a Knight to aid those who needed it, regardless of their alliance. An attribute hammered into him through the rigorous teachings of his master, Sir Trystram, and the Knights of the Inner Circle professed bravely and without remorse of fear of retribution. The two pursuers who had chased Eola away from the main group were all but slaughtered, the skill of the King's finest Order laying waste to the green-skinned brutes with relatively minimal injury to themselves; truthfully, it was thanks to the strange weapons that Ulthane and Samael had provided that they were so fortunate.

And as they rode forth, agreeing to keep the Elven girl until they got her somewhere safe, they would soon run into the event that made all the pieces click. It was just as Trystram had thought: For whatever reason, they were transporting someone important across this wild, unpredictable terrain. From a first glance, Trystram could only guess that this young Elven girl was one of royalty, belonging to either a Noble House or the House of the King and Queen. Her attire only suggested that much, and no further details could be gleaned at the moment. However, just as Sir Florence was to ready one of the weapons for use against this next group of assailants, Trystram simply stated, a gloved hand lowering the barrel of the weapon, "That is not necessary, Sir Florence. The Elves appear to not require further assistance". Florence could see this was the case and put the contraption back across his shoulders; within moments of their arrival, the last Orc feel, its faint curses echoing as the last of its life force left its mortal shell and fell away into the unforgiving annals of time.

As the humans approached the Elven troop, the strange contraptions they carried were adjusted so that they would be hidden beneath the cloaks of their armor. Abel himself froze in his mount when the Elven girl hugged him, feeling his cheeks heat up from the awkward contact. Though he had to admit, he felt his pride swell a little at having rescued a "damsel in distress", as he'd heard the other boys put it. "Looks like Abel has a pointy-eared lover, Aidan......" Benedict commented snidely, both of whom snickered upon realizing their fellow Squire's embarrassment, something that Abel ignored despite his gut telling him to shout at them. When the elderly Elven woman, apparently named Helena if the girl - now known to be Eola - was to be trusted on her exclamation, approached and summarily had her progress halted by one of the Silver Knights, the Inner Circle tensed up in case they sought to combat each other. It was here that Trystram realized fully what was going on; the terrain and the Elven woman's partial slip-up were far too close together to be mere coincidence. This girl was none other than the Elven Princess Eola Sylvari, and it was fairly clear to him that she was being transported to the Drow. A wise move indeed; their lands were surrounded by leagues of Orc territory, serving as an effective barrier since even the mighty Orcs feared to venture within the Drow's borders. And progress was further halted by the ancient woods that surrounded their kingdom, a veritable labyrinth of quick-sand, crushing darkness and an enemy that knew all too well how to traverse them. A place too time-consuming for the humans to attack unless they possessed significant numbers of powerful mages; besides, the Drow's reclusive nature made them very low-priority targets. He said nothing to reveal his thoughts, not wishing to add to their woes; there would be time for that later. Several of their number were moderately wounded, far fewer had serious injuries from going into close-quarters with beasts that could crush boulders in their grip.

Abel looked back to Trystram upon being commanded by the Elf Knight to come forward, who nodded for the boy to proceed forward. The young Squire, whose snowy shoulder-length locks were hidden by the metal cap and chainmail hood he wore, had the horse trot until they were directly in front of the Knight, not wishing to make Eola walk so far. He then dismounted before helping the young girl down himself, lending himself as support to keep her weight off her bad ankle. There he stood before the Elven Knight, his head bowed as a form of respect to someone of superior ability. His silver eyes peered up at the Elven Knight as he straightened himself, letting the Princess be taken back into the company of her compatriots. Trystram soon joined Abel, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder, "Is there anything we can do help, Knight of the Elven Kingdom? Sir Agravaine is moderately skilled in healing magic, and may be of service to help those of your number who possess a graver degree of injury". Sir Agravaine dismounted his own steed and approached as well, his head nodding as he added, "I'll admit my knowledge of the white arts does not compare to the level of an Elf, but hopefully I may be able to provide some assistance". Sir Justin in the background grimaced, gripping the handle of his green and red-stained sword at his hip in anger and outrage; why were they offering assistance? This was the perfect opportunity to strike! And they could take this girl as a hostage, forcing the Elves to lead them right to the back door of their kingdom! These long-eared bastards would surely fall for something like that! But he knew Trystram all too well; he flaunted honor like the world was going to end. And it was for this fact alone that he held his ground, no matter how much the issue infuriated him. In his mind, at times, one had to cast aside honor for the greater good and advancement of their respective species. Sir Florence merely watched in mild disinterest, his duty having been fulfilled; it was almost like he wondered just how this was going to turn out.
 
For a moment, Gabriel thought that the cover had been blown and the true identity of his princes had been figured out. He did not want a blood bath on his hands. The task at hand was to get their princess to safety, not throw her to the humans that they currently waged war upon. As Eola's rescuer came forth and offered and helping hands of assistance, she couldn't have been more grateful. She did not care about the 'pointy eared' reference that the others made. It seemed the male had no issues with having saved Eola's life. Or at least, none that were openly voiced. The ground was littered with massive green bleeding corpses of their attackers. A grisly sight indeed. Sir Gabriel carefully helped his princess up and onto the back of his stallion. Rather surprised and equally grateful that humans would return an elven noble back to her protectors. Another elven knight was having to put far more effort into getting the portly pedagogue up and onto the back of his horse. The old woman scolding him about where he touched her even though he was far from trying to make a pass at the crappy woman.

The courtesy that was shown was almost alien to Sir Gabriel's eyes, as well as his brethren. Eola only saw it as it should have been. She, spoke up before her protector could get past the mild shock. "I would offer you the same." Gabriel looked down at his princess, wondering what on earth she was doing. She was the future of their kingdom and if it was her gut to aid the humans, then who was he to over rule the word of a princess. Gabriel finally found his voice as he spoke looking at the humans. "You came to the aid of our greatest healer and returned her safely. If you need aiding and she offers her gifts for you, then please do not hesitate to ask." As the good knight spoke Eola reached down and placed her palm over her ankle. By now she had grown accustomed to the stinging side effect of this spell as she whispered under her breath. Words spoken in an ancient tongue before her hand pulled away. Her palm covered in her own blood, but the wound upon her ankle closed, looking almost unscathed, and the pain numbed to a far more tolerable degree.

Some of the other men were silently conflicting on what was going on before them. Humans coming to the aide of elves, and offering aide afterwards? Were they not natural enemies? The fact that their princess was back in their care was an astounding outcome. The manner in which they go her back was something far foreseen. "Sir Gabriel, if I may, there are more of those beasts none too far from here, we need to head off." The battle mage spoke as he looked off towards the trees as he spoke. Looking almost as though he could see through the trees. Eola looked up at Sir Gabriel. They did have a place to be and if the drow did not see them in the allotted time, no doubt they would raise hell in wondering where they were and send out a few scouts to hunt them down. "Again I thank you for the aid, but we must be off. Fair travels." Sir Gabriel, bid their temporary allies farewell and with the princess sitting before him they took off. The journey was longer than Eola had expected. The wind whipping at her hair and face as they rode. Avoid all troubles along the way. Eola spent the entire trip thinking her usual thoughts.

She was ever grateful to the human that saved her life. Whether he knew she was elven or now, he saved her. No rude remarks. He took great care in helping her off of his horse. For once there had been civil union between enemies. She knew the saying 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend', but how could that be made permanent? She would have been more than happy to help them. More than happy to head back to her mother and father and praise the humans that aided in their little battle with the orcs, that almost cost them their only daughter's life. Eola was growing weary and tired. A yawn escaped her lips and she felt and arm wrap around her waist. Gabriel whispered, "We're almost there Princess, just a little longer." She nodded her head in acknowledgement while she heard the portly woman deemed her teacher, yelling about the comfort of her ride. The woman had been far to immersed in the luxury life style, where as Princess Eola was far more versatile than she.


King Sylvari sat upon his thrown, hardly registering the words of the council as the spoke and argued about plans to come. His wife was pacing her room for hours on end. Though she was ill, she just could not stand still. Ill thoughts of her daughter being taken or worse plagued her mind, giving her second thoughts as to their decision. Had they sent their daughter to her death by what they had done? A healer sat in the corner of the room. Speaking to the woman and trying to console her. Telling her time after time that if she did not rest and relax she sickness would only spread. Of course the Queen would not even listen to her king until word of her daughter's safety reached her ears. Sylvari was trying to keep a level head. A task far easier said than tone. What with blood shed and the possible loss of his daughter and wife on the line.
 
Trystram and the others merely watched as the young Elven girl was carried off by her troop; a thin-lipped smirk crossed Sir Agravaine's face as the portly elf complained about the comfort levels of her mount, her booming voice slowly fading off into the distance. But now there was an issue; surely they hadn't been so blind as to see what they were really up to. Should they continue? Could they, after having taken the effort to rescue one of their enemy? For all of his tactical brilliance, he was stuck; he'd only not done anything because he didn't expect to encounter Elven royalty all the way out here. Trystram was one of the few knights in service to the King that knew how to pick his battles, and this was one that was not worth fighting. "Trystram, what is it that we might do?" Sir Florence then asked, a bit concerned at seeing their commander so stuck. "I'll tell you what it is we must do: Make Sir Trystram step down as Head Paladin of the Inner Circle!" Sir Justin finally said, his anger starting to overcome him. "Our so-called leader, instead of having us slay them where they stood, let an obviously important figure just waltz on past us. We could have taken them, Trystram! That girl was someone important! You saw it! I saw it! Likely someone important enough to where we could have used her as a bargaining chip! So why in the name of the Lord did we just let her go? Not to mention just aid the enemy!? Have you forgotten that we are at war with them?" Trystram sighed; Sir Justin had many valid points. Indeed, the opportunity to strike was there, but it would be like kicking a small child. The victory wouldn't have meant anything, and it would have been very dishonorable to attack them in such an obviously weakened state. "Sir Justin, I understand your frustration; however, if we were to attack, then we would be betraying our intentions....." Sir Justin then shouted, "But you're not going to follow through, are you? Seeing that girl is making you think if this is right.....What will happen if we turn back now? We lose the one advantage that could turn this war permanently in our favor, and all because you feel it wouldn't be right for a girl to lose her parents! What about the children, our children, who had been orphaned because of those bastards!? Did they have a right to lose their parents? Did they? I say we attack them now; they have no idea we're coming and we will have the element of surprise on our side".

Trystram was at a loss for words; Justin was disarmingly perceptive at times. It was true that he was beginning to consider just turning back, but they'd been sent here to attack the King and Queen. Of course, the Elven Guard they just encountered seemed to assume that they were riding by on pure luck, something which worked to their advantage. But still.....This was the work of an assassin, a mercenary. No Knight worth his salt would resort to such cowardly tactics. "You forget why we're here, Sir Justin: This is only to validate the existence of a weakness in the enemy's defenses. If it does prove to be true, then we go back to the King and advise what to do from there. If we were to storm the Jade Palace, it is very likely we would get slaughtered, as we have no true understanding of their level of palace security". Justin slammed his sword on the ground, shouting "Don't you see that we can end this, Trystram? Enough of this bush-whacking, we should....." Eventually young Abel would step up and interject, feeling outraged that someone like him would dare attack his mentor in such a disrespectful fashion, "Trystram has already stated why we are here, Sir Justin. We are here for surveillance. Nothing more, nothing less, and to do otherwise is folly and rather unbecoming of a Knight going outside the direct order of the King himself".

A bit of hesitant silence fell across the group as Justin reeled from the audacity of this Squire; sure, Justin was a Junior Paladin but he was still Abel's superior. "Why you little......" Just tin then growled as he raised a hand to smack the boy, only to find Sir Trystram himself in front of him now. "Do that, Sir Justin, and I will see to it that you are summarily rejected from the Knights of the Inner Circle. Abel is my charge to punish, not yours......." he then said coldly; Justin's eyes wandered from Abel to Trystram, going back and forth between the two for a few moments before lowering his hand. Trystram then turned around to Abel, looking down at the young lad, "Abel, I taught you better than that. Never bad mouth a Knight no matter what the circumstances. And about that little stunt you pulled rescuing the Elven girl...That was beyond reckless. You could have gotten yourself killed!" Truthfully he was proud of the boy, for both cases, but there were things that Squires were generally not permitted from doing, including being smart with a Knight or endangering themselves needlessly. But the latter event wasn't so much that Abel did it; he was just scared of losing the boy he'd come to consider something akin to a son.

Abel was silent throughout the tongue-lashing, keeping his silvery-grey hues focused on his teacher throughout the whole session. "Now, Abel, apologize to Sir Justin" Trystram then stated, stepping to the side. Abel approached the Junior Paladin, who himself waited with arms crossed over his armored chest. Abel then bowed on a knee and said, "I humbly apologize, Sir Justin....It was not my place to raise my voice to you. I take whatever punishment you see fit for my actions". Justin just smirked; this boy would serve as ample payback. "Very well......I accept your apology. As punishment, you will serve as my errand boy and messenger on top of being Sir Trystram's for seven days and seven nights. In a way, you should be honored to be a Squire to two Knights of the Inner Circle, boy; though not many can handle the workload of one, let alone two. You think you're up for the challenge, boy?" Abel was silent for a few moments, then said, "Yes, Sire, I am". Justin then said, "Rise now......Once we are back, you will take over Aidan's duty of cleaning out my horse stables. I have more tasks to do, but surely the Squire of the Head Paladin is able to accommodate those into his schedule?"

"That's enough, Sir Justin; you've made your point" Trystram interjected, coming to his charge's defense. He felt terrible having to make Abel do this, but there was the image of the Knightly orders to protect. That and he didn't want to have Justin succeed him as the Leader of the Inner Circle. "Everyone, mount up and let's move. We still have a weakness to find" Trystram then commanded; after making their way to where the scouts had originally said the potential entrance might be, they found indeed there was a path. Sir Agravaine was busy drawing a map of known chokepoints that any patrol would want to avoid, as the route was cutting clear through Orc territory. When that was finished, they then began the long trip back to Evugid to tell the King what it was they had learned. As they rode, Aidan and Benedict teased Abel, the former mocking the young boy "Well, I'm glad I don't have to do that disgusting task; it's not really proper for someone of pure blood like me. But for a street rat like you....It's really the perfect chore. Since dung and garbage is what you prefer to muck around in, isn't it?" It took all of Abel's will not to beat him to a bloody pulp, and the tension was so thick between them, one could cut it with a knife. To clear his thoughts, Abel wondered about the young woman he'd rescued; just who was she? He'd heard she was a healer.....It wasn't uncommon for noted healers to have strong guards like that, but something about her felt....different. But the young boy couldn't quite put his finger on it.
 
A few of the men accompanying the princess seemed to be in deep thought. One kept watch over his shoulder. "Gabriel." One of the Dark army males replied in a rather deep voice. "If I may... and I know others are thinking it, but those humans... they gave our Princess Sylvari back. Either they are as dumb as the orcs they just helped up with... which I doubt, or have we been wasting our time with this war?" It was a thought left to linger in the air for a little while. To stew in the minds of the others. It took Gabriel little to no time to linger on the thought. He was nice to not to shed blood shed based upon the race at the wrong end of his sword. Gabriel was all for respectively voicing his word to the king and this was a massive break through. "We will discuss this when we reach our destination." He said, not taking his eyes off of the road ahead. As they road on, it seemed that their brief venture had its effect on their princess. He fell her body leaning more against his chest as she seemed to have trouble staying awake. The blood that had been racing through her veins had finally slowed down and gave her a moment to breath and her body was weary. The night was soon upon them an in do time they were riding through the thickness of the forest. The pace had to be slowed down a bit as they grew closer and closer.

Soon the group came to what appeared to be a dead end. A vine and moss covered side of the mountain. Sir Dakol stepped down from his stallion and took off one of the gloves from his dark skinned hand. The palm of his hand tracing over the wall in a weird circle. Word were whispered under his breath and an arch formed in the wall and the thick material of the wall seemed to crumble. A torch hung on the wall led the way down a large tunnel. The dark elf guardian mounted his steed once more after the party entered the tunnel and whispered more words as he loomed over the pile of ash that was once the wall. If one watched, it seemed as though time would rewind and the door put itself back together. Sir Gabriel continued on the dart path of the tunnel, that seemed to go on a decline. A set of large well aged stone doors stood before them. The doors had to weigh so much. More than a human could pulled. "Dum spiramus tuebimur." He spoke aloud. Saying - While we breathe, we shall defend - in an ancient tongue. Whispers could heard on the other side of the door and slowly the doors began to open. Eola had long since awaken to witness the ancient and mesmerizing art of their darker kin.

The doors opened wide to a sight she had seen only twice in her life thus far. Apparently there were other means to get into the stronghold and the one they had gone through had to be a secret. It led into a high chambers, fairly ornate and well aged. Beings shrouded in ebony robes with silver ropes tied about their waists stood three on each side. Ebony armor seemed to be the pro choice of these people as a heavily armored muscular male approached and posed on one knee, kneeling before the princess. "Glad to see you've arrived safe and unharmed Your Majesty. I am Sir Kodlak, a Guardian. Nice to see you again Sir Gabriel." A woman stepped forth with ruby red eyes and darkened skin. A long silver mane that hung in a pony tail and sporting nothing but the barest of clothes. Mind you the skirt was long but it was comprised of two pieces being held up with a silver band. The woman's physic was toned and she sported elaborate and beautiful markings that seemed etched into the surface of her skin, upon her bare shoulders and her torso. "This is Priestess Jade. She will be assisting with Her Majesty's visit." The woman bowed at her introduction.

Princess Eola was escorted to an ornate chamber fit for a person of her title. There was even an adjoining room for the portly woman accompanying her that seemed to do nothing but complain. Meanwhile the men joined up in the council room. The atmosphere was so different. Dark yet fit with a whole new form of light. The air had a different feel and the smells. The light of a fire beneath a mantle lent a comforting glow to the room with bookshelves built into the walls. Harboring books as old as anyone who may walk this very earth. Legendary weapons in cases, showing their history and the role played in the wars before. A large circular table in the center of the room. Gabriel leaned over to the table, leaning on his palms as he looked at the surface and tried to choose his words wisely. Kodlak stood on the opposite side of the table, arms crossed as the other men spoke amongst themselves in soft voices. "Spit it out Gabriel, what's troubling you?" An unforeseen laugh escaped the elf's lips as he looked up to his friend. "I have to go back to the king and tell him that human's played a role in saving the life of his daughter. Who knows Kodlak, our princess may had died were it not for them. And they had her. An obviously important figure, in their hands. Easy for the taking and they gave her back! They gave her back Kodlak!" She grinned and pounded his hand upon the table.

For a moment a few thought the man daft. Probably from having taken one too many lives, but no he was serious. "Maybe you should rest, my friend. These humans... they were just stupid." Gabriel was no where in agreement with his brother in arms. "No... the king will know every detail and... an maybe this may have some effect. We won't go soft Kodlak, but maybe terms can be ma-" He was cut off by the gruff voice of the other. "Many terms have been made. None the humans have been willing to accept. They are a greedy race, out for no other than their own."

Eola was settled in, but she no longer had the urge or desire to sleep. The priestess set off to getting food and her pedagogue had taken full advantage of a bed to rest her head. The princess wandered about her temporary home and happened upon a cracked door with light and voices coming from it. She listened as the men spoke. As the topic of human greed arose Eola slipped in and her soft little voice stuck out distinctly. Her petite body in the emerald gown standing out amongst the ebony and silver armored men in the room. "You can not base the actions of a race, based on the actions of a few. Those humans... they did me no harm. They treated me as their own, knowing that I was an elf. I see a war between kings and councils with victims in between. I believe a deal can be struck and I wish to go back home. I wish to speak to father with you Sir Gabriel." She no longer sounded like the little girl she was seen as, but a person of authority to be answered to. Little did the king know that the series of events that had just come to pass would have a bigger effect on the ending result of this war, than anyone would ever guess.
 
It would take some time for the small group of human soldiers to reach Evugid once more; Trystram had made it clear that they would not inform the King of their encounter with the Elves. And of this, Trystram still had not told them that they indeed encountered an Elven Princess; last thing he needed was an innocent child getting caught up in this atrocious war. Of course there were many who would disagree with him, far outweighing those who would see the validity of his stance; however, Trystram knew that the cry to arms was often a great corrupter of even the most well-aligned individuals. Even still, there was no reason for a dragging a young woman into a conflict that would endanger; yes, she was an Elf, but did that make trying to kill her right? Not to him it didn't; his own master Arthur had made sure to instill the capacity to discern when to raise one's blade and when to keep it sheathed.

Regardless, what was done was done; eventually they would return to Evugid, the guards on the ground and archers in the turrets recognizing the troop and lowering one of the drawbridges to allow their most valiant of Knights safe passage back into the walled city. Inside they could see that the city was bustling with activity; the Head Paladin wondered what this new commotion was all about. "Abel, come with me; we must go see the King" Trystram commanded; however, Justin interrupted him and said, "Have you forgotten already, Commander? Your Squire gets the honor of cleaning my stables. Aidan, why don't you go relax?" Aidan just nodded and took off, leaving Benedict to follow his Knight to do whatever task it was they had to accomplish. Trystram knew he had to report to the King, but he didn't like how Justin was treating his charge. "Just remember who his master is, Justin" Trystram spoke with a warning tone; Justin replied with a smile, "Of course, Sire. He is your charge". And Trystram would have to be satisfied with that; he then turned and went on his way to report to the King. Justin grabbed Abel's shoulder roughly, "Come on, boy. There's work to be done; once you've finished cleaning those, you can polish my armor. Seems I got some of that thick Orc blood on it, so you'll need to scrub extra hard".

Meanwhile, in the Central Palace, King Richard was getting reports of what was happening in the outer reaches of his domain; smaller skirmishes were taking place in various towns, some holding the line while driving the Elves back. A few had been ransacked by those pointy-eared devils; for those they would surely pay. However, humanity had also dealt some fairly harsh blows to other Elven territories and some of the Fae that had fought against them; it was safe to say that so far the battle was a large stalemate. As Trystram walked through the doors, he would be the first to witness this amount of activity. Messengers flitted in and out of the throne room like flighty birds, relaying messages received from carrier doves and bringing new ones from Richard to be sent out to the other provinces. A huddle of advisers were around him, giving Richard their thoughts on how to proceed.

However, the good King looked up and said, "Ah, Sir Trystram! Good to see you! Tell me, did you get to test the new weapons?" Trystram nodded and said, "Yes, My Lord. We were encountered by some Orc raiding bands; even with their incredible bodies, Sire, the weapons made short work of them". Richard clapped his hands and stated, "Oh, splendid! And what of the back road into the Elven Fortress?" At this Trystram paused; they couldn't really find much, but the evidence certainly suggested the path was there. Still, without more knowledge of Orc movements, it was an extremely risky gamble, and there was the risk of them being caught while on the Elvenfolk's own territory, where they would be at an extreme disadvantage, one that he would not allow his troop to face. Trystram then spoke after considering his words, "Sire, we believed ourselves to have found the path; however, the Orc presence was too thick to say for certain". Richard paused, his face falling into one of obvious disapproval, "And so you left without confirming......" Trystram stared back at the King, proclaiming "The closer we got, the thicker the Orc presence was and I was not about to risk my men unnecessarily. We did detect some powerful wards, though. Ones that only the Elves could have erected; we noticed that there was a weakness the further we went. It's safe to surmise that a vulnerability lies somewhere along that path". He then threw a map down on the table in front of him before saying, "Based on Florence and Agravaine's analyses, we've managed to track a path that should encounter the minimal Orc presence. It's impossible to say this for certain, but we have a fair amount of confidence this path would be sufficient for a rear assault".

Richard let out an exasperated sigh; well, the Head Paladin wasn't who he was for no reason. As much as the King hated to admit it, Trystram made a bold choice, but the right one. But at least now they knew the path had to exist. "But tell me, Trystram, if this path is as good as you say, why not continue? We gave you plenty of powder and projectiles for the weapons". Trystram paused again before replying, "Sir, the Orc presence was unnaturally large there. I believe the Elves may have forged a pact with some of the war chiefs for protection". This was an enormous lie on Trystram's part, but it was for the sake of maintaining his honor and not letting Richard send good soldiers into a possible deathtrap. "Impossible; the Elves have persecuted the Orcs longer than we have even been in this area. Those two groups hate each other...." Trystram sighed, "Well, we haven't exactly been extending the hand of cooperation either, My Lord". Richard slammed a clenched fist on the table, "And why should we? All they've done is plunder and rape our people and land! Those vile beasts deserve nothing but extermination!" And that there was the problem; this cycle of violence was nothing that was going away any time soon, that much Trystram knew, but someone would have to step eventually. However, this was not the place for discussing it; Trystram knew he was going to be here for a while trying to propose an alternate strategy to how they were going to deal with this.

(Once again, I want to apologize for the lateness of my reply; school has been whooping me good. I was thinking here we could go to another town and show one of the skirmishes in action. How it would go we can discuss in PMs, but I just want to cut away from Trystram, Abel, Eola and Gabriel for a little bit. Show our readers how far out this war is reaching despite being in its fledgling stage)
 
Obviously Gabriel and Kodlak, as well as the other me that occupied the room, were a little taken back by the sternness of their princess' words. Gabriel and Kodlak both knelled out of absolute respect before asking for permission to speak. "Our King's orders were to get you to a safe haven an.." Eola promptly stomped his words with her own. "Any punishment taken will be with me. If I am not safe within the walls of my own home then something needs to be fixed and I doubt it starts with wiping out the race of humans. Take me home, or I shall make my way there myself. You choose. However, if my father instilled his trust with you getting me here alive, I believe you can do the same with getting me home." With that said, she left no room for argument and turned on heel and left the room to head to her own. Silently Sir Gabriel felt pride in their princess. Her views held a bright future for their kingdom, though other may not agree. The rest of the evening was spent in discussion as to when to leave and the safest route to take. Obviously Kodlak took it in his hands to send word to the king of his daughter's orders. Hoping to get a reply back soon.

Your Majesty,

It is my duty to inform you that Princess Eola Sylvari demands to be taken home to speak to you, Your Majesty. She threatens to leave the safe haven one way or another. Your word is law and therefore I seek your decision on this matter. We encountered a thick band of Orcs on the way here and it proved a hard fight. Until your answer is recieved, we shall remain at the Haven.

Signed, Sir Kodlak

As the messenger was dispatched and the discussion as to the delay was brought up the troops dispatched to the villages lining the edge of the Galahad Forest. The village was small and proved no threat, nor was it a source of valuable resources. Yet His Majesty sent men there, just in case. The sun was ablaze in the sky and the knights and wizard that were dispatched were given no reason to raise their blades for days. The villagers rejoiced in the form of going about their lives. Children playing in the fields. The sound of hammer beating against metal at the black smith who tended to the knight's weapons. Farms being plucked for harvest and sheep being sheered. It was miles before one would come across another village so the distant screams of their neighbors would be unheard. No more than fifteen men and women were dispatched to the tiny village and half were sleeping, while the others were on patrol. As days went by, the patrol got slackened. The men thinking 'who would bother this village'? This day started off no different. The pervy knight flirting with a villager. Another knight or two sipping on their third tankard of mead. The wizard keeping to himself and messing with herbs and laying down traps just outside of the village. Another knight surrounded by children and telling tales of how he battled with the humans.

The mage patrolled the borders of the village and laid down a few of his special bags. brown satchels laced with a combination of herbs and an enchantment that, when stepped on, popped and crackled. acting as a sort of alarm. It would take more than some small woodland animal to set it off. By mid day sweat was dripping from the brow of more than a few villagers. Wheat brought in and other basic resources procured throughout the day. Even the children had taken to the shade of their homes or the trees on the edge of the village. A youthful and inquisitive lad had ventured just outside of the border of his home where the King's men forbid until it was deemed safe. Up a mountainous tree he climbed, seeing far into the distance. Such a sigh would excite any child. For a moment he thought he saw movement in the distant trees. Birds flocking off in fright of something. Perhaps a bear or a deer of some kind. Before the kid could take another look his name was shouted out by his bearded father. Telling the boy to come down and get ready for supper. With another look into the distance, nothing could be found. No movement like before. With a reluctant sigh, the young elven boy climbed down and went back into the village, ignorant of what awaited them in the near future. Having survived this long in the war seemed a blessing. The tales of massacres had spread far and wide. Be it their isolated location of the village or a blessing, they cared not.

Sir Jameson sat sharpening his sword in the circle of the village. The mage had long since laid for a much needed rest as the other knights awoke for their share of duties as the other winded down. The aroma of cooked meats and various foods was pungent in the air. A cow sounded in the yard while villagers retreated to their homes for the remainder of the evening. A curfew had been set. For their safety it was put in place. A fire pit had been set a light and there a knight sat, staring into the flames. His ears a tuned to the surrounding air. None as keen as a werewolf, mind you, but it helped. As the warmth licked at the surface of his scalemaile armor. The coolness of the eve hinted at its arrival. The winters were none too far and to hold a war at such time was gruesome. Coldness, famish, and often plague played their part with the blood shed on both ends. Jameson only hoped to out live this war and the troubling season to come. He had gotten to know the people of this village all too well in the time they had been sent here and with no word from their brethren in the past ten nights, he was starting to grow on edge.


(Inexcusable! Absolutely inexcusable! I have like six drafts of this single post. My mind was just not up to the task, but tonight proved fruitful. Forgive me, my friend, for my listless ways.)
 
(Now it's my turn to ask for forgiveness; I think once the warring is finished, replies will come a bit more easily, lol)

Despite Trystram's best efforts to convince the King that nothing terrible that happened, the Head Paladin should have realized that Richard was often far sharper than he let on; the barrage of questions as to why they didn't even encounter enemy patrols was beginning to make him hone in on the truth. Trystram was just wishing in his head that something would come along and break the train of thought that the good King had. "Trystram? Sir Trystram, is everything alright?" he then heard his King's voice say to him, snapping him out of his somewhat trance-like state. "Yes, my King...Just in thought is all". Before Richard could try and coax more out of his Knight, a messenger came into the room and knelt before his Majesty, proclaiming that there was someone here to see him. When questioned upon the identity, the messenger merely said "King Orrin". Richard then dismissed him, ushering his royal guard with him to greet their visitor.

When everyone was assembled outside, Richard in a fine silk cloak to conceal his royal attire, he watched as the Dwarf King and his entourage approached; the short-limbed but stoutly-built creatures covered in armor of various sorts clambered off their mules and stood at attention, shortswords and pikes pointed towards the heavens. The Human King himself then bowed, followed by the rest of the Knights and royal staff and family. The Dwarf King, a slightly taller member of his kind and armed to the teeth with weapons of various types, his muscular body covered in thick, enchanted brimsteel battleplate with a red fur cape attached at the shoulders then approached and said, "Well, if it isn't my old friend, Richard the Garaz. It's been too long, and you know I hate people bowing to me". Richard smiled as he stood up, his form towering over Orrin as he replied, "King Orrin.....I had not expected your arrival for several days, but it is good to see you indeed. How was your travel?" Orrin scratched his long, thick gray beard as he returned, "Ah, you know....Wasn't easy keeping the Throng together. That and these damned dongliz because of the cursed ragarin I have to wear. Ah, but you need me being a grumbaki". Richard then nodedd and said, "Please, come in; I'll have the cooks prepare a meal for you".

Little did the tiny Galahad Forest village know that they were targeted; while it was true that there was nothing of value to steal, that didn't mean there weren't vengeful humans that acted without the knowledge or consent of the King. In fact, the group of attackers shrouded in foliage that slowly approached the village were what many might consider Marauders: Humans of various ages displaced by the fighting and the atrocities committed by these pointy-eared knot-humpers. They were here to destroy the village, armed in simple leather armor and carrying swords to cut down any that might oppose them. They also possessed a rather unique weapon to aid them in their conquest of this tiny village: An alchemist working in the shadows had recently developed it. It was a type of special explosive liquid, nitroglycerin he called it. An extremely unstable compound, it generated massive quantities of heat and light upon detonation, which could be triggered by even the slightest errant twitch. And they were going to use its destructive power to level and scorch this village in its entirety.

The leader of this rogue band of less-than-empathetic humans was none other than Avery Blood; once a serf for the King Thomas of the Eastern Drein Kingdom, his home was burned to the ground when the Elves attacked. Those merciless cutthroats caused his only son, a mere boy of two years age and the pride and joy of his life since his wife Elena died in childbirth, to die as they set his hut ablaze with their cruel wicked sorcery. He wasn't able to protect him, for they dragged him outside not knowing he had a child and made him watch his house crumble to ash. In a fit of rage, he stole a sword from one of the soldiers and cut the bastard's head clean off in a surprise attack before turning on his two comrades and dispatching them before they could even draw their own blades. He'd never learned to use a sword himself, but he got plenty of practice as he found others who'd suffered at the hands of the Elves.

"Tonight.......Another Elven village will feel my pain. I won't stop..........Joseph, you WILL be avenged" he thought to himself; even now he felt the murderous urges coursing through him, screaming at him to butcher, pillage and rape everything this village had. And his own troop, having grown in size from about twenty to more than fifty, had the same thoughts in mind, intent on getting their vengeance for the wrongs they’d endured. Within moments, they could hear the commotion of the village itself, seeing light poke through the thick shroud of trees which revealed its true location. Using an ingenious method of communication that mimicked the sounds of creatures native to this area, the group slowly dispersed to surround the village. Sound after sound was played, from the telling the rest of the group they were in position. When the town had been fully encircled, a final utterance in the form of the owl-sounding hoots signaled them to begin closing in for the kills. They would soon find their cover blown as one of his group accidentally triggered one of the mage’s trap pouches, his foot crushing the powder and causing it to explode, alerting the townspeople that something big was too close for comfort.

“CHARGE!!!!!!!” Blood shouted, raising his sword high as he threw all caution to the wind; a near-unanimous war cry erupted from the forest as the murderous brigade of renegades stormed the small settlement. Some of the satchels were thrown, causing a number of the houses to explode and catch fire. Within moments, the ring of steel on steel began to fill the town as chaos took hold; unless the warriors sent by the King could drive the marauders back, this would likely be the end of the small village, as there was almost no means of escape.
 
Murderous screams and cries filled the air as black smoke billowed in the air from the homes set ablaze. No one was truly prepared for what had happened. A mother clinging to her son and chanting in her native tongue, a prayer. For there was no way to escaped the flames that engulfed their home. Flames licking at her flesh and She held on tightly to her son. Her body shrouding him, as though it would keep the flames at bay. Women being dragged away and screaming as they cried for their loved ones. The mage did all that he could. Blowing ice from his hand and snuffing out one flame, only to be attacked when doing so. The other guards were clashing with swords. One skewed through his chest due to his lack of armor, which he had been polishing. Soot rained down upon the town as nature fed the fire with a gusty day. Many fought back, but the numbers were too much and their lack of weaponry was they're downfall. even the children, who threw stones were laid to rest with their kin. Bodies strewn here and there. Some fleeing into the woods and running until they could run no more. For some running was futile, only to be caught by a human and dragged back or dispatched of there. All of the king's men were slain, but not all was caught. A young woman ran and ran with her child in her arms. falling once or twice, but never looking back. Listening to the screams with tears falling from her eyes and her child crying as they ran. Her feet would bleed before she stopped. Night would fall and still she would push on. It was far to the next village, and even then, there was no telling if they had suffered as her own village had. She could only hope that the city of Arganine was safe.


Horns sounded and the King, out of stress yelled that the formalities be set aside and to be told who was here with a fist slammed into the surface of the council table for added emphasis. King Sylvari turned his caped back to the council tables as the double doors were opened. A faint sparkle trickled from something small. Wings beating faster than a humming birds as it hovered in the air. It drew closer and there before the king flew a man. No more than three inches in length. A light green and gold simple garb and bare feet with a small crown of thorns upon his head. "Ah, Gunther, your timing is impeccable." Sylvari spoke with a respectful bow.

"Well, High King, were it not for this debacle we would still be peacefully relaxing amongst the trees and sipping on only the finest, but my wife is disturbed at the interruption with this war. As you know, when there is peace it reflects on our actions. With this war being waged...." The little man's words were interrupted by the sound of heels clicking upon the stone floor and a gorgeous woman walked through the double door. Pale skin and light golden locks with mesmerizing emerald eyes. A while gown with green lacing all around and gold rope tied about her waste. Transparent wings coming to a stand still. The little earth fae man was startled and nearly fell to the floor only to remember his wings and take flight. "Edna!" King Sylvari graciously bowed before the woman with only the humblest of respect. Edna, also know as 'The Mother' was the most powerful of all fae and few rivaled her. Yet seldom met her. The woman was said to be as old as the very ground they walked on, but though sweet and humble, she was not a person to be toyed with. Nor were the fae without their own weakness' which the human knew very well.

"They grow restless." She spoke softly. Sylvari raised a brow, wondering what it was she was speaking of. "The dark fae. They wreak more havoc than usual because of the war. The humans are burning down our homes and though it may be seen as a casualty to them, I can no longer stand by idly and watch as it rains blood over my lands." There was no questioning her words. Even the dark elf general herself knew her limits and to cross a fae as powerful as Edna was a death wish in and of itself. "I have my own wishes Sylvari and I see them happening through you. I give you what you need and in return there had better be an end to this war." There were several ways to end this war. Edna had a vision far from what either side may have expected, but it would come to fruition, in time. Patience was something the fae were well known for. From their magic dust to tears that held magic qualities, these all were utilized in plans of attack. Sylvari and Knight Commander Sybal Uthal spoke about the further plans when a Soldier ran in demanding and audience and implored of its urgency. "Come in!" The armored male was panting and glistening in sweat and practically threw himself down on one knee and took off his helmet respectfully.

"Please my High King, I come from Arganine and three nights ago a woman stumbled upon us and spoke that the village had been attacked by humans. She was burned and gravely injured, as was her child. Men were sent to investigate and the village, as well as our men, were slaughtered, mercilessly. Houses burned with people inside. Like savages." You could hear the anger in the elven male's voice as he tried to remain calm and composed. "Thank you." Otho spoke. Crushed that more of his people were taken by the likes of those filthy humans. As if things could get no better, the letter from Kodlak arrive later that day, just as the king was set to retire with his ill wife. His eyes scoured the page and its words as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. for the first time in a long time. He looked at his wife as she lay in bed watching him. "What?" Araana asked. "Our daughter is more like you than you think. We must bring her home and I need to get word to the human king. Let him know that the attack on Galahad would not go unpunished."
 
Blood watched as the village burned, the explosions from the alchemist's strange new compound creating absolutely brilliant bursts of heat and light, the screams of the dying Elves like a delightfully demented choir to his ears. His attention was ripped away from the scene of carnage and destruction as one of the elder Elves, covered in blood and clutching the dead body of a burned Elven boy in his arms, approached the human, his eyes brimming with sadness and despair. "Why.....Why do you attack us? We're a simple village....." he pleaded, wanting to know what they'd done; they had no part in this war. Nothing that could be used for either side to gain an advantage.

Blood just grinned manically at the old man, his eyes glinting in the surrounding light of the roaring flames while replying "Because you Elves are a blight on this land. Just as we torch this village, your kind has torched ours! Families torn apart because of your sacrilege! So do not act as if you're innocent!" The Elven man just stared back at him, adding, "Not all of us support the wars; both sides have committed horrendous atrocities, this much is true. Humans and Elves alike have been wronged.....But attack them! Leave the innocent out of this! Look at my son! Look at what your violence did to him! He was just a boy!" Blood then spat on the ground, "You think you're the only one who's lost a son!? Three of your soldiers held me in place while they burned my home, leaving my child to be reduced to cinder! So feel my pain!" Blood then rammed his sword through the Elf's heart, causing the heirless father to choke as the sanguine fluid filled his lungs. "And suffer with me...." he then added venomously, withdrawing the chipped and beaten blade, watching as the father now joined the son in the afterlife. It wasn't long before the attack was finished; what little had survived the onslaught would now serve the small horde, their cries echoing through the woods in triumph and after plundering what meager supplies had been stored at the village, set off to burn yet another.

*Three days later*

Orrin and his troop had certainly gotten comfortable with the good King's hospitality; truthfully, the humans had a lot to be thankful for when it came to Dwarven ingenuity. Without their trades with the various Dwarf clans for ores, finished metal products and even advice on construction of various buildings, humanity might have been quite a bit further behind than they were now. That and most Dwarves were fairly neutral when it came to silly conflicts like the one the Humans and Elves were having, though a good portion seemed to be sympathetic to humans as they fought to maintain control of the lands they had worked so hard to achieve. But not Orrin....No, he was King of one of the largest and most fearsome armies under Dwarven rule, and as if to make things worse, he had a plain-as-day hatred for Elves. The reason? He and his clan had been denied access to so many ore-rich veins because the Elves felt it would disturb too much of the wildlife. Did they not know that Dwarves dug far under where any roots grew? To say he'd been insulted was so much of an understatement it defied comprehension; the Elves had always been. So needless to say, he was more than happy to help Richard with his 'pointy-ears' problem.

But right now, it seemed that things were relatively quiet, with Orrin and Richard both feasting on rather sizable chunks of meat and flagons of wine, guards of both Dwarf and Human descent standing on duty. "Well, Richard, what do you think of m'lady and her Kulgur? Bet you never tasted Troll quite like that before, have ya?" Orrin laughed as he downed another flagon of wine; Richard paused for a moment before replying, "While I admit I've never eaten Troll, it was indeed quite good. Rinn Thraka is indeed quite an excellent cook". A slight giggle was heard before a smooth voice replied, "Oh, Rik Richard, you are too kind. It's a craft I learned from my mother, and it's not an easy one. Troll meat's surprisingly delicate you know; but you cook it right and it falls right off the bone without turning to mush". Orrin laughed again, saying in a boisterous, "Ah, Thraka, you're too easily pleased. Now go on, you....Me and the King here have some business to discuss. And the lot of you guards, move it....Outside the door". The human Knights seemed a bit taken by the Dwarf King's edginess, but after a nod from Richard, they followed Orrin's guard outside, leaving the two rulers to discuss business. It was clear what the topic was.....The Elves and they were to be dealt with.

Richard unfurled the scroll from the High King; this attack on Galahad was unauthorized. None of his inner circle did it; if there were rogue Knights in his armies, they would be a problem. For the longest time, the two sat in silence; before long Orrin's voice finally shattered it, "So, what's going to happen, Richard? I've told you this before; it ain't any of your Knights. This attack was sloppy, unorganized...Trust me on this, it was a band of normal humans, upset at the perceived lack of justice they've suffered". Richard could let out a sigh and nod; it still troubled him greatly that the ordinary people were taking such drastic measures into their own hands. But what could he do? He couldn't just start locking up all the townspeople in his Kingdom; that was a surefire way to get a revolt started. But he was at a loss on what he could actually accomplish, only knowing that things were going to get worse before they got better.

As the months passed, the war fronts pushed into and more territories, splitting alliances and forming new ones. It wasn't long before many of the human's forging towns came under siege, each one being utterly destroyed and plundered for its stockpiles. Of course, the natural assumed instigators were in fact the Elves themselves; high traces of arcane energy could be detected at each assault site, furthering the conviction that the Elves were starting to go after their weapons supplies. On the Outer Edge sat Jasna, one of the King Richard's most heavily fortified structures and home to some of the best metalsmiths the humans had to offer. Some had already left for other towns, knowing that the tides of war shifted quickly and such a location would not be safe forever. Its walls of black granite brick, cast into form and constructed by powerful Earth Mages, formed an extremely defensible wall around the town. Turrets at the four cardinal direction points housed crossbows larger than a wagon on rotating platforms, and walkways linking them allowed over thirty archers ample protection and opportunity to return fire.

At the head of this establishment was one Armorer Kanus Black, father to Ulthane and Samael Black and one of the keenest minds to be with the humans. A monster of a man at over eight-and-a-half feet tall, he had adopted the name 'Berserker' because of the rage he flew into should anyone be foolish enough to attack him. The iris of one eye was completely grey, showing a deficieny of sight where a sword had nearly gouged out the delicate orb. Rumors had spread around that he was of Troll or Orc blood, for few could have survived the extents of his past injuries and lived to tell the tale. One such feat was taking a pike through the heart, only for Kanus to pull the poor bastard toward him by yanking the pike even further into his body and smashing his skull with a forger's hammer. A grisly sight to behold indeed; yet even in this time of relative peace, Kanus wandered around the establishment, making sure that the sounds of hammers and anvils clanging made a glorious symphony. There was also a company of Dwarves here to help make sure that every piece of equipment made was of the most astounding quality, lest they bring shame to their families.

Kanus soon got a letter from none other than King Richard himself; he was to return to Evugid immediately. Well, at least he'd get a chance to see his boys again; it wasn't long before the eldest Black metalsmith was all dressed in his furs and mounted onto the strong legged Clydesdale that was his mount. Jasna would be losing its most skilled hand, but everyone there knew enough to keep the forges running, so there was no worry about having a lack of supplies. And with that, Kanus rode off towards the walled city, hammer in tow.
 
The Elven High King was none too happy about the situation. His wife growing more and more ill by the day and his daughter was hidden somewhere far away, but still he could not help but fear for her. The news as to the slaughter of a village along the Galahad forest was certainly a blow to the heart. He was almost definitely sure that the humans had a role in this, but people were dispatched to collect evidence. His daughter had been caught once outside of the stronghold, and no one knows how she slipped past the guards. As stubborn as her father and clever as her mother. The fae were enchanting day and night and some sent off to collect information and spy on whatever human forces that they had knowledge about. Maybe fish out some knowledge that could help them get an upper hand in this wretched war. As time went on he could not help but grow more and more weary. More men and women had been laid to rest than he could count. A sickening thought in and of itself, but what was worse was that he told himself that it was all for the greater good. Only to question that as well. No. No, there was no time for such thoughts. As his life reminded him with messages arriving from several parties sent out. More villages had been attacked, but succeeded in pushing back the humans. Word got back on some vital information. Dwarves were seen collaborating with the humans.


Countless gallons of spilled blood later, given a few months time, the High King had tried to make light of it all. Almost having lost his wife in the process and his only child, a few times. Eola had grown, in time. Having picked up more spells and enchantments than many her age. Secretly having picked up a few offensive spells on the side of her healing ones. It was said that she possessed a healing ability that surpassed even her mothers, and that was saying something. Since her mother had been the creator of several potions and herbal concoctions. Her skill was another reason she had made it out of her safe haven a few time. Again the stubbornness of her father. Something pointed out a few times with her scoldings. The arguments followed thusly, her mother was ill and this war had waged on too long. Not to mention that she had not seen her mother or father for, what felt like, an eternity. If anyone should be at her mother's bedside, it was Ava. Certainly her father was too preoccupied with the war to see to her mother. Another argument. The war was senseless bloodshed and she was ready to defy her father to show him so. Over time, High King Otho's daughter was no longer the little girl he once knew. As time went by, hers was spend honing and practicing her abilities. After another recent attempt at an escape, her father had sent one of the faye to keep an eye on the princess. A bit of a bond was forged and the sprite, named Sal, was always at her side.

"I do not think that is a good idea..." The common beginning to one of their many conversations. "You never think my ideas are good, Sal. For once, just trust me." She had snuck into one of the secured vaults further down below and reading an ancient text, guarded for generations. The thick layer of dust that was blown off of it still hovering in the air. The little ball of light, being the faye hovering at her side. He yawned as his wings fluttered fast, keeping him hovering him in the air. "Got it!" A quick gasp and she covered her mouth and closed the book. Checking to make sure that no one had heard her. It was a healing spell that took some of the caster's life force away. "Her Majesty would be furiiiiiious." Eola shushed the faye and left the book in its original state and snuck back out to the common quarters. Listening as the men hunted for her in a bit of a frenzy. Popping out of a hall with a smile. "Found her!" One knight called. "Your majesty you must not run off unattended." Her tiara topped head bowed in good grace as she formally apologized for her sudden disappearance. Tonight she would make another escape. This time.... she would prove successful. In the time she was said to be sleeping she made her way out of the chambers. Sal telling the guards that he had to get back to his Queen to relay some news. Eola held a convincing charm that won Sal over.

Hence why the faye was cursing himself for getting talked into going through with this plan in the first place. Eola snuck her way past the guards and was required to walk past a series of tunnels, patrolled with guards and enchantments that Eola had to think on her toes to get past. Sal acted confused and got the guards to look the opposite way as the elven noble maneuvered her way through the system until she reached a hole covered in thick vines. The hidden door to the ancient and dark society heavily guarded. She crawled through the small hole and it entailed fighting the the thickness of weeds and trying not to scream when she felt something crawling over her leg. She saw a fluttering light ahead and a familiar voice. More and more she crawled and made it to the end of the tunnel. "Sal." She whispered as she made sure nothing got stuck on her clothes. One she chose to look more ragged and not noble of any sort. "Perfect." She said with a smile until her face went pale and she grew speechless for a moment. "Bravo, Your Majesty." The dark elf herself. Like the sister to her mother, she was someone she would never trifle with. "Kn-Knight Commander, I thought you were with my father." The woman stuck and hand out to take the princess by the hand and walk her to the secret entrance, which was surrounded by baffled guards. Men and women alike oblivious to the fact that their princess had been missing from the beginning. The men began to explain all at once, but the Commander's hand was raised and they were silenced like little children. Sybal took the girl back to her room and told the men outside to give them a few moments.

"What is with the formalities?" The Dark Queen asked. "I believe you started it first, and you still have yet to answer my question." Eola showed her persistent side once more. "I am here to take you home. Your mother insists. That and you've worried your father sick with the attempts at escaping." The silver haired female looked at the young girl who was beginning to look identical to her mother. "Since you are so persistent with getting home, pack your things. We leave tonight." Eola was both elated and frightened at the same time. As the arrangements went underway, the venture was far slower than before. Entailing them to camp out in hidden areas to rest and send a scout to make sure the path was clear to continue. As blood shed continued and time crept on by the High Elf continued to question why they were fighting. Even as his beloved wife lay in recovery of an illness his mind replayed her voice and reasoning in his mind. Coming around more and more to her point of view, but the lands. What the humans were doing to these precious lands could not be stood for, but at the rate this war was going they might as well be welding the shovels and axes themselves. "Karin, bring me a parchment and ink, I wish to make a proposition." The council members and the allies that had come together caught those words. Already the tension mounted. "What proposition?" Knight Commander Uthal walked her armored body up the center of the room. "No worries. Princess Eola is at her mother's side and will remain there, so this proposition... explain."

Otho was so in thought that he did not note the informality of his drow friend. "Negotiations will go underway. Edna, boundaries will be set with the faye having their say and let's see if we can lessen the bloodshed. terms were negotiated and the idea of propositioning itself was questioned. Some saw it as throwing in the towel, but Otho thought far from it. The Faye did not wish to divulge their where abouts to just anyone, but a person could be anointed the 'Listener'. A being allowed to know, but blessed/cursed to never divulge the specifics. One for each race. Perhaps the kings themselves, but land was precious. Maybe the elves could check the lands for precious herbs and what nots before the humans could take a hold of it. The Argonions had their thoughts as well. The lizard folk were tired of being shunned and chased out of kingdoms. A familiar in the form of an owl was to deliver the proposition to the human king and make it's way back. In the end... this war would not end until something was arranged.
 
The war continued on for some time, each side suffering its own victories and losses alike. Cities were decimated, thousands dead from the relentless marching of the armies to confront those they sought to destroy. In the names of their Kings, the names of what they'd been raised to believe to be the truth, they clashed swords and battered shields and armor to preserve their way of life from those that sought to change it. More and more, humanity called out for an end to the atrocities, though the majority remained steadfast in their desire to exterminate the Elves - those pointy-eared forest lovers - which had brutally massacred civilians numbering in thousands. A fair sentiment, as both sides had incurred severe injustices, but truthfully it was starting to wear down the King. And based on some of the reports he was reading, it was wearing down the Elves too; sometimes he wondered how it came to this, how the two fronts began waging such a war against each other.

But not all was lost; King Haggard of the Northern Territories had sent men to help reinforce the border between the land of the Humans and the land of the Elves; Richard was more shocked that Haggard himself had joined in the 'fun', as he called it. Then again, the man was always a bloodthirsty brute on top of being an already ferocious warrior; admirable traits to be sure, but his person-to-person demeanor was somewhat lacking in etiquette. He never used royal titles, only referring to most as 'boy', 'bastard' or 'brat'; it was quite the feat indeed to have Haggard refer to one by their true name. There was also the issue of an Orc war chief's son, Gash'nul in his traditional heavy battleplate armor, who had come to the humans seeking aid; this was a most peculiar event, as the Orcs were generally self-sufficient and too full of pride to seek help from other races. And to top it all off, he spoke the human tongue fluently and in a much softer tone compared to the rest of his brethren. When questioned, he mentioned that his father was sick and that the Orcs knew little in the ways of medicine, as it was almost never needed. Regardless, a deal was made: The Orc had promised some of the stronger males as reinforcements in exchange for helping his father, an agreement which was surprisingly honored on their end when the war chief recovered; it seemed the father was either extremely supportive of his offspring's decision the son also added a condition of being informed if any peace negotiations were to be had, as the Orc race as a whole apparently grew weary of their nomadic lifestyle and wanted a collective chunk of land they could call their own.

But that was neither nor there; the next step would come to see if they couldn't reach a reconciliation or as the Orc had mentioned a peace negotiation, which was quickly becoming more and more of a fever dream at best. However, such an offer would surprisingly come in the form of an owl from the Elven High King; Richard was somewhat relieved to see that he was willing to attempt negotiations once more. This war was quickly becoming one of attrition; despite the best attempts of their armed forces, both sides were quickly reaching a stalemate with each other. The humans had gained an edge with the Orc brutality and numbers and the Dwarven ingenuity in metalsmithing, but it seemed the Elves too had their own surprise: The Fae rallied behind their forest brethren, using their potent arcana to assist them in battle, whilst the Drow and the Argonions aided their ground forces with their own combat ability and stealth. Regardless of all this, Richard was more than happy to try negotiations once again; he passed this along to King Orrin and sent a pigeon to Gash'nul as well, honoring the imposed condition of the Orc's assistance in the warfronts. The owl was soon returned to the High King, stating that he would attend the peace negotiations himself along with one Guard should the plan of the 'Listener' be implemented; he would also allow his Guard to be sworn under the oath/curse of silence.

It was here that Richard summoned for Sir Trystram; within moments the valiant Paladin entered the throne room, dressed in full armor, and knelt before his Lord. "What is it you request of me, My King?" Trystram asked solemnly; Richard simply replied "Rise, Sir Trystram; despite what you might be thinking, this is not to send you or the Inner Circle out to battle. No, this is a chance for our races to finally have peace. I have grown weary of this fighting, and from the owl I received moments ago, King Sylvari of the Elves tires as well. I request that you be my guard on this mission of diplomacy". Trystram was inwardly elated beyond comprehension, but kept a straight face as he rose to his feet, stating, "I will serve as best as I am able, Your Highness. But if I may...I believe Abel should come along as well". Richard was a bit stunned, "Your Squire? But he's just a lad. He won't understand what's going on". Trystram nodded, "Perhaps not, but it's for the best that he see the other side of war...The side that shows peace can be attained even under the most extreme duress". Richard sighed, running a hand through his hair as he replied, "I'll have to send another owl to King Sylvari, asking if it's all well to have your Squire along..." Trystram started to interject, but was silenced by Richard raising his hand, "It's not that I do not trust your Squire or you, Trystram, but that I do not want the Elf King feeling threatened or betrayed. It's a merely a precaution to help these negotiations move along smoothly".

Before either could get another word in, none other than King Orrin himself stormed into the throne room, angrily shouting, "What's the meaning of this, Richard?! Seeking peace with our enemy? Have you forgotten how many they've killed? Have you forgotten how much they tried to oppress our people? How much blood have we shed in order to protect ourselves from their savagery, and now you spit on the sacrifices made to form a treaty?" Richard sighed, replying as calmly as possible, "No, Orrin my friend...I do not intend to make light of the sacrifices made. Rather, I find myself a fool of the highest magnitude to not have tried harder sooner". Orrin clenched his meaty hands in obvious fury, causing the Human King's Royal Guard to ready themselves by placing their hands on the hilts of their swords. "Stay your blades" Richard ordered pointedly; a few of the guards exchanged uneasy glances, but ultimately all heeded his command. "Orrin...Believe me when I say I still loathe them, but can't you see the futility of it all? Each day, the battles approach stalemates, and our forces and people gain nothing but death and misery. This could be our chance to end the turmoil. Once and for all". Orrin sneered as he replied, "You ARE a fool, Richard; this is but a ruse, and you're going after it like a dog to a fresh kill! The moment you let your guard down, they'll stab you in the back!"

A tense silence hung in the air for a few moments, the two rulers staring at each other before Richard finally broke the silence, "Orrin, surely you must have seen the details. This could be your chance to speak your piece, get them to give you more land for more ore. And think of it; despite your people's history with the Elves, you were able to reach an agreement. Besides, perhaps they might have some unknown material that could benefit the Dwarven kin greatly". However, King Orrin would not be so easily swayed, "I'm telling you, Richard, this will go down as the worst mistake you've ever made! And I want no part of it!" And with that, the stubborn and proud ruler turned on his heel and left; once Orrin was gone from sight, the heavy doors closing behind, Richard let out a sigh and stated to his messenger, "Send another owl to the Elven High King...Ask him if it's well and good for my Knight to bring along a Squire".
 
On and on went the debate and arguments. Talk of betrayal and backstabbing being on of the main topics being thrown about the discussion room. A few of the fae we on the fence about the King's decision. There was, however the one fae whose opinion mattered most. She was absent at the present time while the heated conversation took place. Questioning why the King made such a decision on his own accord without discussing it. "I do what is best for my kingdom." One of the council members rose out of his chair, looking his majesty dead in the eyes with seriousness. "You do this with no clear mind." All eyes tuned to the cloaked elven male with the shockingly blue eyes who dare speak to his king with such casualty. "Forgive my boldness your majesty, but this decision is haste." High Elf Otho slammed the palms of his mighty hands upon the surface of the wooden table as he stood from his chair. "I am anointed the person who makes such decisions. Without such decisions and Her Majesty's other views this war could wage on forever. No leeway has been gained on either side. Countless lives lost and you...." He pointed a finger at the man, "I don't now about you, men, but I can't stand by idly and watch our people die day after day with attempting to stop it somehow. The prospect of human extinction is no where within the realm of reality. No matter how much you wish it. Thusly, other means of ceasing this war will be played. Whether you like it or not."

Knight Commander Uthal's boots broke the silence that consumed the air after the King vented his rebuttle. Ebony steel gracing her figure in a way that showed the power of her rank, but the feminine form of her body. "What the High King speaks of his no matter to be questioned. Do we hate the humans? Of course. Do we hate watching more and more of ours loved ones die day after day while little furthering our goal? Of course." Her boot sounding upon the heel with each sure step she made around the table towards the High King's side. "Is there a point within all of this Knight Commander?" A council member asked with a snide tone in his voice. A fist adorned with a dark gauntlet slammed upon the surface of the oak wood table, making the elderly elven male wish he'd held his tongue. " Yes. The question of the matter is... which would you rather fix first? Stop our people from dying? Or eliminate the source of many of our brethren's hatred?" A hand arose amongst the large table and the King arched a brow. "Illiad? You have something to contribute towards this topic?" A tall you lad with silver eyes replied as he stood from his seat to address his curiosity. "Aye My Excellence, killing the humans off will entail the safety of our brethren, no?" Otho looked tot he Knight Commander, seeing as how she had garnered their attention rather well thus far.

"His Majesty as already told you. Wiping out the humans will cost far more lives and will do little to no good. Not only that, but it would cost substantial time and is seemingly impossible what with them breeding like rabbits." Uthal turned on heel to face her King. "If I may have a word in private, we have a response from the enemy." With a nod of his head, he excused himself and took the conversation to his study. The tall room lined with shelf after shelf of books with a heavy desk planted in the center of the room. "Yes?" Otho asked as he casually sat upon the edge of his desk while the Knight Commander stood poised in front of the large heavy double doors after they were closed. King of the Humans, Richard, sends a request to bring along a squire in addition to aforementioned guard." It was a curious thought that brought along questions, but it was not but a squire. "So be it." With a nod of her head the knight commander took a step back, on the verge of dismissing herself. "Oh... and Sybal ... ", the speaking of her first name caught her attention faster than anything. "Otho?", she responded with an arched brow. "You will be attending this meeting with me and I want Araana at my side. Inform the Human King of this. Three meeting with three. I shall have him choose the time and day and place. Just to remove any suspicion of an ambush. It is a risk I am willing to take."

With a nod of her head she agreed and turned her back to open the door. "Oh... Your Highness, may I suggest you go and see your wife and daughter, before young Eola decides to hunt you down. You have a very clever on on your hands. Must be from her Highness." Both the King and the Knight Commander shared a rare laugh in these times as both went back about their business. Another familiar in the form of an owl sent as soon as possible. It was only a matter of time. To await a response to find out when and where this would take place. Otho would be none too surprised if more than one of these meetings needed to take place, but it felt like a step in the right direction. Araana would certainly be pleased. The Argonians and Fae were drawing up their own forms of negotiations while the drow continued to feed off of their commander's orders of a defensive stance until further notice.
 
(I'm so sorry for taking so long; I hope this post makes up for it. Feel to skip ahead to where they all meet if you want; I just wrote to include some background without infringing too much on your faction and leaving you some leeway)

Richard wasn't having as much trouble as King Sylvari was; though that wasn't to say he didn't have any opposition at all. Orrin's ranting and raving seemed to have garnered some support, and soon even some members of Richard's council were beginning to turn on their King. Nothing violent, but their words and promises of making things difficult for what they saw as 'bowing to the enemy' gathered enough strength to render any progress to forming a time and place for the negotiations absolutely ineffectual. Did they not see that he was trying to move things along, to help end this senseless war? So many had died already, adding more graves would not solve anything. As high as the appeal of exterminating the Elves was, Richard and those who remained loyal to him knew that such a feat was impossible; on open terrain, the humans had a distinct advantage. But the enemy worked from the shadows and forests, something which dominated much of the known geography. It would simply cost too many extra men, and there was still the factor of them even succeeding in such an endeavor. Regardless, Richard was once again in the room with his advisers, trying to make progress on setting up suitable arrangements. Gash'nul too was present; Richard had secretly wished he wouldn't have come, but only because most other humans disliked Orcs as much as they did Elves. Richard had no intention of going back on his word to the son of one of the most powerful Orc warlords to have ever lived, but his presence was enough to cause some serious agitation, and it didn't help that he'd had to have some particularly powerful sorcerers present to restrain the green-skinned giant, given the Orc's natural resistance to magic. "Your Highness, the Elves have no intention on following through with this!" and "Those pointy-eared bastards will betray us the moment we let our guard down" were just a few of the things that Richard was hearing thrown at him up until this point.

Though one thing did make it all seem uplifting; the Elven High King had responded a few days later, saying that not only would he allow Trystram's Squire to accompany them - an odd request, but one he was ready to try and make happen with his bravest and most valiant knight - but they would get to choose the time and location for the meeting to take place. It was more than likely that the Argonians, Drow and Fae would be attending this as well; Lord only knew they had a stake in this. But he didn't worry about them right now; he needed to have Gash'nul and Trystram be ready to move out. He was going to go to these negotiations, no matter what anyone said; trap or not, he needed to try and strike a deal with the Elves. Sending for Trystram, Abel and Gash'nul and watching as they arrived a few minutes later, the conversation began. "My Lord" Trystram and Abel said simultaneously as they knelt to a knee; Gash'nul simply put a closed fist over his heart and bowed his head slightly. "I want to thank you for honoring our bargain, Richard; I'll admit I did not expect loyalty from the humans. My brethren have never had so much fun slaughtering the pointy-ears" the Orc prince added as his nose wrinkled and teeth bared, a hint of his brutish nature showing through a normally relatively cultured persona. "Well, Gash'nul, you know that we're trying to work for peace; if things go as planned, perhaps the Orcs can finally have some real territory to call their own. Of course, the main objective is getting the hostilities to end, as you know; however, that does not mean we can't negotiate redrawing territorial boundaries". Gash'nul just gave a 'Hmph', as if not expecting the Elves to follow through with this.

Trystram then interjected with a question of his own, "My Lord, how many will be attending this meeting?"; Richard picked up the scroll and replied, "According to Sylvari, it will be himself, Knight Commander Sybal, and Queen Araana meeting with myself, you and young Abel here. And they would like us to choose the time and place". Trystram was a bit surprised to hear of Sybal's attendance at first, but then realized why the Elven King would pick her; her tenacity and cleverness in the heat of battle was well-known among the knights and paladins of the human world. "Hmph, seems Sylvari must have 'forgotten' the hawk I had sent about our plan to attend the meeting as well" the Orc prince stated heatedly; Richard retorted after an exasperated sigh, "I'm sure he didn't forget, Gash'nul; knowing him, he probably wants to use this meeting to establish who's going to want to join in on the negotiations. Besides, this will serve as ample opportunity to talk on peaceful grounds with them. I'm sure the Argonians and Fae at the very least will be joining the Elves in discussion". Gash'nul snorted derisively but let the issue slide; there wasn't much he could do about it anyway. Trystram then spoke once more, brushing some hair out of his face, "Your Highness, since Sylvari allowed us to choose the location and date, might I suggest we hold the negotiations in the Fae's Kingdom?" Richard looked absolutely stunned, Gash'nul then adding in, "You're a fool, human; why would you even say such a thing? To give your enemy such an advantage like that". Trystram then added, "The Elven King was kind enough to extend us the courtesy of choosing where and when these negotiations would take place; that's a large leap of trust he's giving us. It's only right that we reciprocate the gesture, show them the same degree of trust they showed us". "And what if you're wrong, human? The Fae are far more aligned with the Elves than the humans; who's to say they won't take the opportunity to kill you off once you cross the border?" was the reply Gash'nul gave, further showing the surprising insight he had to battle tactics and more so the distrust of his enemies.

It was here that Richard intervened once more, "No, what Trystram says is true; the Elves are taking a risk with us, so we should take a risk with them. But I do understand your concerns, Gash'nul; believe me when I say do not trust them completely. But this may be our one chance at ending this war". The Orc snorted again, staying silent for a few moments before stating, "Very well; it seems my hands are tied". He then motioned his head towards Abel, who had been silent as the adults discussed politics and theories of how to proceed with this, "But are you sure bringing the boy is a good idea?" "Do you Orcs not bring your children into battles, to teach them the art of war? The way your ancestors have survived?" Trystram queried, to which Gash'nul said, "Yes, but Orc children are far more physically capable than humans...No offense" adding the last bit as a token pardon to Abel himself. "None taken" was the boy's reply, still incredibly unsure of what to say or do. Abel was well-informed of the risks of these negotiations; however, Trystram made it very clear that it would be in his best interest to attend them. To learn how to talk and negotiate with those you considered enemies. While the adults continued to argue, Abel did wonder about that Elven girl he rescued; Trystram never did say who she really was, even to him. The way she carried herself, and Justin's remarks - though crude and callous - did make the boy think that there was more to her than met the eye. She'd embraced him for his deed even though he was her people's enemy; then again, he did save her. Though would it have made a difference if he knew she was an Elf before he rescued her? Abel wasn't sure on this, and he wondered why he was even thinking about it now. It was when King Richard spoke to him directly that the boy was snapped from his own train of thought, "Young Abel, are you prepared to accompany Trystram and myself to these negotiations?" Abel's slate-grey eyes peered at the King, momentarily confused before peering to his mentor, then saying in a determined tone, "Aye, your Highness, I am ready whenever we are set to leave". Richard chuckled at the lad's bravado before replying, "Very good, but we won't be leaving for some time yet, nor arriving for that matter".

A messenger was soon called to deliver; after rudimentary preparations were made, the owl familiar was sent back to the Elven Kingdom stating where and when the meetings would occur. Gash'nul returned to his own tribe, acting as the messenger for his people by carrying a scroll of duties written by one of Richard's scribes. Richard also included a proposal for how they should proceed and that finalizations could be discussed when they met in person. The first and likely subsequent meetings would take place at a Fae castle far to the Southwest, deep within the Fae territory; it would be up to the Elven King to decide which one, and have one of the Fae guide them there. Richard also asked Sylvari might convince the Fae to make arrangements for other rulers to reside there until the peace negotiations concluded, since the Elven King was likely on better terms with the Fae than he. The Elves would likely get to the Fae Kingdom first, as they were closest; even still, it would be almost two weeks of riding for the humans, assuming they were going to the farthest known Fae fortress. A highly dangerous task, and one that was vehemently opposed by even his strongest supporters; they claimed they could use the sorcerer's to open a portal to the Fae Castle, but Richard reminded that the magicka the Fae utilized was far stronger and more archaic than anything either they or the Elves themselves used. No, it would be best to simply prepare to ride there. Now all they had to do was wait for Sylvari to tell them which castle of the Fae would be willing to accommodate them.
 
The council had come to terms and some even admitting to the eagerness with which they silently held for the end of this foolish war. Tension in the air had been more than evident since the start of the war, but the difference could be felt. Mayhaps a small bit of hope made a difference. King Sylvari happened to be discussing matters with the fae when the familiar arrived and perched itself upon a nearby windowsill of the chamber they were talking. The scroll was brought over to his majesty as the Mother of the Fae sat in a glowing beauty in a chair before him with a few small fae floating about. "How far are we venturing? To a human land I take it, Your majesty?" Knight Commander Uthal had spotted the winged animal through an archers window and made her way to the chamber where her king brethren sat reading the scroll. "You give the human's little credit, Knight Commander." Mother Edna spoke to the dark elf commander with a humble tone that one could never get mad at. King Sylvari ignored an intrusion expected of this specific dark skinned kin as his eyes read over the message received from the human king. "Queen Edna is right. The human's seek to meet somewhere in the fae Kingdoms." Even the fae Queen herself was given the opportune moment to cast a gloating smile towards the dark elf.

"Fair Lady Edna, where shall this assemblage take place, specifically. I think it only fair for you to decide." Of course this went without saying. "That is... if the proposal is allowed to begin with." Edna had already come up with the perfect place to hold the meeting before the Elven King asked. "Tamriel." Her eyes shifted and looked at the bevy of small fae beings, getting the ball rolling with preparations. "Have the preparations made in Tamriel for the arrival of the humans. It should be a while before they arrive." King Sylvari watched as the gleaming wonder of a female as instructions were given out. The High Elf was stunned to find himself surprised that this was actually happening. A felling that did not make itself known upon his otherwise stoic face. "Jargeon... you will lead the Human King to Tamriel. Be cautious." The miniature being knew what his Queen spoke of. Not for his own safety but for the safety of the humans themselves. A venture to this particular fae kingdom could result in death if the traveler did not know the terrain. That and being of fae blood must pass through the gate with visitors. The venture would take days where the humans were. For the High Elf it was but half that time.

The trek was made in a weeks time, giving the humans some time to leave before them, or so the High Elf had assumed. Caravans were loaded up with supplies needed for the trip. Knight Commander Syball Uthal seemed irritated that early morning as the men readied their horses and their weapons. The agreement would be held. Only the selected few, as previously agreed upon with the Human King, would see face to face. The Royal family was to attend, including her highness and Princess Eola. Within safe confines they would be while the meeting took place. Even the mother of the fae had a place selected for the humans within her realm for them to rest away from the elven knights. The trek was too far and long for the family to go unattended. Even with the Knight Commander attending. Still the number was small and only the bare essential. Totaling ten travelers. Including the High Elf's family and the Knight Commander. The sky dawned a pink hue with the rays of the sun just barely licking at the horizon.

Within the carriage sat Queen Aarana and her only precious daughter. Her majesty would not say it, at the risk of sounding like parrot, but her daughter had blossomed into quite the young woman. In her mind she prayed for the peace she so desperately sought. A time of peace for her daughter, as well as herself. Still, there was much needed pray. For arguments and accusations lie ahead. It would be a rough time ahead, but it had to lead somewhere. High Elf Sylvari rode upon his horse at the side of his Knight Commander. The female still dawning her armor. Making many question whether she ever took it off. "It will not be as easy as you think Sylvari." Of course he knew this. Were it as easy as he had hope, the feeling of unease would no longer curse him days after their departure. The kingdom was double guarded and plans of defense made. Proving that he still had his fair share of doubt with the humans. "You think I do not know this Syball?" His majesty returning the non formality of her question. Along the way, few were encountered. No Orcs, thank their lucky stars, and in due time, they arrived. The little fae being that befriended King Sylvari's daughter appeared before the tall wooden gates covered in vines and moss. One would hardly tell it was there were they not looking for it. Behind the doors you saw nothing but woods.

The little being whispered something hardly audible before the doors suddenly opened and it seemed a whole new world did appear. The air was abuzz with magic. Small homes sat within the thick trees, as well as down below. Very few laid eyes upon a fae kingdom as permission was always granted. In the center sat the kingdom of Tamriel. A gorgeous castle sat nestled within the trees looking as old as time itself, but that was not their destination, no. The Hall was their destination. A great self standing Hall used for gatherings. Wooden lggs made up this mighty structure. Intricate carvings of the finest detail on every pillar with candles inside making up the lighting. A large rectangular table took up the center length of the room. With a second story balcony above with more seating and a view down below. Chairs lined the table's sides and the surface covered in foods and beverages. The Elven clan were located to a wings to themselves to await the arrival of the humans. Both parties would enter the chambers together. To obstruct any foul play. These orders from the fae themselves. The trek seemed to have worn Queen Aarana thin and she show signs of her illness once more. Thinking it best for her not to attend she was tended to in a bed.

"I will attend in her absence, father." Sylvari turned to look at the young woman that was his beautiful daughter. "Eola, my dear, this is important and very risky, that and you've know knowledge..."
"Exactly." Eola's intervention cause her father to freeze his words. "how am I to learn if I do not attend? Sadly to say, you will not always be here to hold my hand father. Please?" Those green eyes seemed to sparkle as she pleaded and a rough and heavy sigh sounded from the High Elf's lips. "You ways of manipulation must surly be a form of dark magic, for how can I say no to such a compelling argument. Alright, but bite you tongue. This is not a game. Lives may hang in the balance."
 
It was indeed some time before they had heard back from the gracious Elven King; meanwhile, words of discontent began to spread, some telling that their once great King had gone mad. And who could blame them? The Elves had been enemies of the Humans for some time, and it wasn't like they had not tried to make peace with them before; but no, the Elves continued to try telling the humans what they could and could not do. Not only that, they slaughtered innocent people for their own selfish goals. Even some of the King's Inner Circle had begun debating their lord's sanity; however, Trystram was quick to quash this nonsense, ensuring that this was indeed the right path. Richard himself would not buckle on the matter; it was time to end this war. End the bloodshed and agony that plagued both races.

The news was indeed quite welcome when the familiar returned; so they were off to Tamriel. Naturally, young Abel had no clue and even Trystram - who often had at the very least a small knowledge of the other races and their homes - possessed nothing in the way of knowing about this Fae fortress. With the goodbyes said, King Richard, Trystram, Abel and several standard guards rode off to meet with their enemies. It was likely they would be spending at the very least a number of days in each other's company, and Trystram warned the others that instigating any form of aggravation would not be tolerated. About halfway to the kingdom, they came across a strange little man; it was a Fae. What was one of the Fae doing all the way out here? Trystram motioned for the caravan to stop. The presence of a Fae was certainly unexpected; for a moment, Sir Trystram had a look of uncertainty on his face as he asked, "Speak your name and business, stranger....."

The Fae merely chuckled at the humans, replying "My apologies, I normally do not forget my manners! I am Jargeon of the Fae Kingdom, here by order of High Elf King Sylvari!" It was here Sir Trystram then moved his own horse forward and demanded, "State your business, Jargeon; we're in a bit of a hurry, you understand". "Oh, but that's precisely why I've come! Sylvari asked me to show you the way, he did! Good thing too; Fae territory is deceivingly treacherous. Even for the crafty Drow and resilient Orcs, if one does not know the way...Well, it's better you didn't know what happened". Each of the Knights exchanged somewhat nervous looks with each other; sir Trystram then replied, "Very well, Jargeon. Lead the way" "Oh, good! Don't worry, I'll have us there in no time at all!" Jargeon then gave a quick snap of his fingers; the caravan soon found itself right outside a large mountainside. Abel had to crane his armored head up to see the monolith's tip; was this where the Fae lived? He'd originally believed they were forest dwellers, not mountain dwellers.

"One moment; just let me get the door" Jargeon stated; the little winged man began to chant, speaking in a long-used tongue of the Fae. Within moments, a door appeared and opened for the human caravan to pass through. "Follow me please and stay close; the castle is not far from here" Jargeon added, motioning for the humans to follow; Abel and indeed the rest of the Knights were astonished at the environment. Everything was so...serene. So calm. So pure. Something they had witnessed very rarely, almost never in their world. Within moments, they had reached the impressive log castle. The small troop was then led inside to a different wing of the castle; most could not believe how large the castle was. The Fae were relatively tiny for the most part; why would they need such a large castle?

As each knight was shown to his room, Abel had removed his helmet and allowed the silver hair to fall free; it had grown a bit, going just beneath his shoulders. He had hated how his locks grew so fast, and this was just more evidence to why; he couldn't understand why he looked so different from the other human boys. This hair and eye color....Was so unnatural, even to him. His eyes felt especially alien to him; though perhaps because he'd never seen anyone else with silver hues. However, his thoughts were distracted when a knock was heard on the door; Abel placed his helmet down and walked to open the door, seeing Trystram standing there. "Sir, is everything alright?" young Abel asked; Trystram nodded, "Yes...For now. I just want you to know Abel, that sometimes negotiations can be tricky. Just remember to address your superiors properly; it will do wonders to help things move along peacefullly. And don't be afraid to defend yourself from physical attack. But tomorrow's a big day; so rest up, Abel. Sleep well". Abel watched as his master turned and walked back to his own quarters. Regardless, Abel shook his mind free of the thoughts and after undressing from his chainmail armor, changed into his sleepwear and drifted off into slumber.

The next morning he was awoken by a short series of raps at the door; one of the other Knights' voice played through the solid wood, "Abel...Rise and ready yourself for duty". The lad groaned, wishing to sleep after such long riding, but knew where he needed to be; redressing himself in his chainmail armor, placing the tunic over the entire suit and securing the simple cap helmet atop his head, he then made his way to Trystram's quarters, where he assisted his mentor and superior in dressing himself for the first day of negotiations. Once Trystram's comparatively elegant armor was all in place, the Head Paladin gave Abel a quick check to make sure the boy didn't look too sloppy. When that was done, they joined up with Richard and were escorted into the main room to begin.
 
The night was upon them when news had reached her that the human's had arrived. That the meeting was going to be in the morning. She was given a lovely view of the moon from her bedroom. To believe that she was going to rest her head none to far from those who slaughtered many of her kin had her slightly nervous. A cocktail of various emotions overcame her, but she could not forget why they were there. A heavy sigh sounded as she looked out the open window with the moon light shining upon her fair facial features. It was only a matter of time before she passed out in what, oddly enough, had to be the best sleep she'd had in ages. So much so the princess remained in her heavy slumber when a light rapping sounded at her door. When there came no response at the third time, Her Majesty opened the door and spotted her daughter asleep. Pale she was, feeling no better than she had upon her arrival.

Yet she sat upon the side of her daughter's bed and raked her fingers through the soft ebony locks of her daughter. Long lashes lifted and a smile tugged at both corners of Eola's lips before stretching and sitting up in bed. "Good morning dear." Araana said as she stood up and walked over to the wardrobe to browse the attire brought for their time here. The queen plucked a lovely emerald dress with gold lacing upon the top of the bodice. It was hung upon one of the doors of the wardrobe while the princess tossed the comfortable blankets aside and sat upon the edge of the bed, still trying to wipe away the spell of slumber that lingered. The ever gentle queen began raking an ivory comb through her daughter's hair. Something she did not do often as there were ladies about the castle walls of their home that were tasked with the simple duty when asked, but the bond between mother and daughter was strong.

Once her mother was done combing the long golden mane that adorned her head, Princess Eola stood and walked over to the wash basin and cleaned her face with a sigh of relief that she was fully and finally awake. "And what is the occasion mother? Should you not be resting?" Queen Araana couldn't help but chuckle as she sat upon the edge of her daughter's bed as she watched her only child prepare for a big day. "You have grown so much." Eola began dawning her dress and threw her mother a questionable look accompanied with a smile. "Mayhaps you do need to rest mother, you speak nonsense." Her Majesty got up to tie the back of her daughters gown which dawned a corset back with gold criss crossed lacing and a heart shaped neckline with her shoulders revealed and sleeves starting at the tops of her arms and draping down into a bell shape. With golden locks tucked behind her pointed ears with a small and modest gold circlet with a solitary emerald in the center that adorned her head. A matching necklace was draped about her neck with an emerald nestled in the valley of her bust that rivaled the very color of her eyes.

Slippers were slipped on and a gold earcuff placed upon one ear adorned with small gold chains. A sigh was more than enough of a sign for the queen to know that the nerve were eating at her daughter. "It will be fine. You will be at your father's side and in this kingdom, no harm should come of you." Eola looked at her mother with a thankful smile and walked over to her with the grace known from one of her station. "I am more fearful that this would not result as I hope." It was all too true and the same with her majesty. Let this all not be for not. A kiss to the cheek and a knock upon the door she was soon escorted to the door that led to the chambers where the meeting between her kin and the humans would commence on this early morning. The day couldn't have been more perfect and the smell of food wafted from beneath the doors. At her father's side she stood and Knight Commander Uthal stood opposite her, dawning her armor, as always. The doors opened before them and the room was different from before. A round table took up place in the middle of the room. No longer the rectangular one from before. Food adorned the middle, along with various pitchers. This was certainly a surprise for her. Were negotiations usually conducted as so?

The doors upon the opposite side of the chamber were opened as well and fairies fluttered about the room. The Faye Queen appeared from a balcony from above and with open arms and a bright smile, she gestured for everyone to take a seat. "Let the discussions proceed, but you must eat first. It is a tradition in this kingdom that a meal must be served with negotiations, discussions, or meeting of this grand a scale. You eat as your alleged enemy eats. You speak as they do and this is one this you share in common and tension will be cut. Now... King Richard of the humans and High King Sylvari, please may you and your company enjoy." His Majesty pulled out a table for his daughter before taking a seat himself and Sylvari was working hard biting her tongue. More than wanting to voice how she thought this all ridiculous, but it was not place to do so... just yet.

Emerald looked upon the ground and to the table the entire way. The silence and tension in the air so think Eola felt as though it would crush her larynx. With a heavy sigh she looked up with a lax smile. First green orbs landed upon the sight of her father and then the human King then upon the male dressed in the garb of a Paladin and what had to be an assistant. She looked to Commander Sylvari before her eyes looked back to the lad across the table. "It's you." The first words to break silence. Words causing a smile to tug at the corner of her soft pink lips. The sound of his daughter's voice catching King Sylvari's attention. "What is it you speak of child?" Eola looked at her father and then back at the lad. "I believe introduction's need to be made." Eola cleared her throat and stood upon her own two feet. Unawre of where the sudden surge of courage came from. "Your Majesty you of course know of my father High King Sylvari and Knight Commander Sylvari. I Princess Eola Raina Sylvari am here in place of my mother, Her Majesty Queen Araana Miriel Sylvari as she is ill from the venture here. And you..." Her eyes commanded attention as they landed upon the familiar sight of the male from before. "You saved my life." These words caught the attention of many. "Eola, have you grown ill? When did this happen?"

The princess shook her head and took her seat once more before taking a pitcher and filling her up with orange juice. "When you were sending me away for my own safety. Well... on the way we were ambushed by orcs and the humans were on the same road and aided in the slaying of the orc. And this one... " She looked at the young male across from her as she placed a slice of ham upon her plate as though this were all the norm, " he saved me." The look upon her father's face spoke volumes. It said that he was not informed of this little side mishap while his only daughter was being transported to their brethren home. "I owe you my thanks and much more, as I am sure my father does." Sybal had enough. This was too odd for the likes of a meeting that had lakes of bloodshed on both sides. "This is nonsense!" The dark elf yelled with a fist slamming upon the table top. We dine with the enemy who slayed countless of our kin and act as though it never happened." This time his majesty was on the edge with his attendant and almost agreed with her. "You act as though continuing with decrease the amount of lives we will lose. You forget that this meeting is simply to begin the negotiations to bring a peaceful time for both of our kinds. I am sick and tired of the bloodshed, both elven and human. So bite your tongue and cease your hatred for just this moment. " Eola had shocked not only the Knight Commander, but her father as well. Realizing the words she had just spoken to a Knight Commander she humbly apologized and went about eating her meal. King Sylvari suddenly burst out in laughter. "You are your mother's daughter, that is for sure. We shall get to the neotiating soon, but for now I am starving." He raised his goblet in a cheer. "To a new beginning, may the fall not have died in vein..."
 
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