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| − | '''Roleplay from Hexic Jeckyl'''
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| − | Hexic had assembled the troops outside the palace in Paisly. He, along with the other troop leaders were dressed for war. The marshal had requested Ygor be present as well, even though he did not possess a unit. The units were arrayed in a semi-circle around him, the troop leaders at the head of each unit. For his unit, his Captain, Andric, was at its head. Hexic gathered his thoughts, and spoke.
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| − | "We cannot predict when Madina will bring the full force of their army to bear, but it will be soon. By my own calculations, they will either be here in less than an hour, or within thirteen hours. It is true that their numbers are great, but that is no reason to have fear. We are the largest, most active, and in my opinion, comprised of the most courageous. My reputation speaks for itself. But when I look at each of you, whether of noble or common birth, I see the heart of a Black Lion. We are truly D'Hara's finest. You are truly D'Hara's finest. There is a reason we are called the D'Haran Guard. It is not because our mandate is to protect the Eastern Border. It is because we protect D'Hara! THIS, IS, D'HARA!"
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| − | The army roared, inspired by the praise their Marshal had given them. Hexic only hoped that the inspiration didn't fade by the time Madina arrived, a second speech would be less effective.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Thers Lewinn'''
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| − | The events of the last several days had been mystifying to Thers Lewinn. The maddening wait for Madina’s attack had caused frustration and impatience to ripple through the allied war camp, and his Black Arrow Guard was not immune.
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| − | More troubling was the perverse manner in which Madina controlled, or failed to control, their forces. It seemed that one-by-one, the long wait at sea was causing their nobility to madly charge their men directly into the walls of Paisly. After one lopsided battle, a laughable skirmish and a Madinan defection, it was plain to all that D’Hara’s enemy had more soldiers than discipline. Still, Thers shuddered at the thought of being stuck in a ship for weeks at a time; it might be enough to drive any man insane.
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| − | Earlier that day, Thers had watched his Marshall approach the mainland from his trio of warships. The Black Arrow’s sergeant discretely pointed out the other vessel which had departed from the Duke’s vessels. The distance was great, but personal colors told the tale: Lady Eleanor had met with the Duke in private. What intrigue is she spinning? Thers thought, I have no similar talent for political maneuvers and it may be my undoing.
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| − | Now Thers was listening to a speech by Duke Jeckyl. He appreciated the Duke’s powerful words and Thers’ chest swelled at the compliment of the D’Haran Guard. Although Thers could not place it precisely, the Duke’s last comment seemed eerily familiar. The D’Haran Guard’s assembly stood as silent testament to the strength of their country – although their island nation was smaller than most, none could question the martial ability of the Dragon King’s men.
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| − | The call to arms steadily beat through the camps; to the ramparts and then to battle, arriving hungry and soon.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Thers Lewinn'''
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| − | The night air was light and unimpeded by the humidity that periodically plagued the mainland of Dwilight. A cloudless moon hung in the sky, challenging Thers’ attempts at sleep. The Black Arrow Guard had broken their camp and moved within the confines of the motte which surrounded a portion of the city of Paisly. While the seventeen-year old knight enjoyed playing a bit of camp outside the city walls, attempting to sleep in a dignified fashion while cramped into the shaded corner of a building was beyond him. Stirring restlessly, Thers rose again (to the great chagrin of the Black Arrows’ weary sergeant) and began stalking the ramparts.
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| − | Thers rubbed his face, freshly cut from shaving. His attempts to grow a beard were fruitless; in his mind, a man of nobility should be able to sport a beard, even if he chose not to do so. At present, the young knight would merely have to wait. How waiting had begun to dominate his life!
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| − | He noticed that he was not alone on the walls. Other nobles, unidentifiable at the distance, were prowling the parapets, likely pondering the coming battle. Today, tomorrow, or some day soon the screams of men would replace the cool tranquility that had settled on Paisly in the past week.
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| − | Thers’ thoughts turned to his King: Cenarious, whose correspondence had just reached the assembled D’Harans en masse. The message had spoken of the prudence of waiting; the dignity of defending D’Haran soil; the reality that they were on the defensive for practical reasons. D’Haran nobility was hot for Medinan blood, but the practicalities of war and governance required that they continue their course, and indefinitely if required.
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| − | Thers reflected on Cenarious’ plight as Dragon King of D’Hara. A small kingdom already troubled by great conflict from within and without. The nation’s history already had more than its fair share of ne’er-do-wells, questionable loyalties and threats from outside its borders. How did the King manage those competing interests, when each could prove more deadly than the last? Thers returned to the small areas his men and sectioned off as their own and called for his sergeant. Paper, quill and the small writing desk Thers used for correspondence were requested.
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| − | Sitting silently for a moment, Thers reflected on his short time as a knight of D’Hara; as a member of the small nation's nobility. The victory of D’Hara culminating in the re-capture of Paisly. The triumphant return to Port Raviel and Port Nebel. His visit to the Grove of Honor and its meaningful silence. Raising his quill, Thers began to write:
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| − | I, Thers Lewinn, Knight of Port Nebel and son of D’Hara, son of Milors ab Lewinn, grandson of Cors Lewinn, and subject of Cenarious Stormage, Dragon King of the the Kingdom of D’Hara and all of its territories, do swear my undying fealty to my King.
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| − | I give this oath of my own free will, with the understanding that it is binding and everlasting. I will protect his body and territory, and will seek to do justice to all that I encounter in the name of my King. I will forever more seek to hold upright the ideals of D’Hara, the kingdom which I and my family call home, and will holdfast to our traditions, our beliefs and that which makes the Dragon Isles the greatest nation of the Western Continent.
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| − | I do swear this upon my honor, sword and soul this day of the eighth year of Dwilight.
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| − | Sir Thers Lewinn, Knight of Port Nebel, subject of D’Hara </i>
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| − | The oath was rough, but it was all that his learning would allow the quill to produce. Was it meaningful to his King? Thers decided not to decide on that issue. The knight called his sergeant to witness the oath and then sealed it with the wax of the small candle which provided the sole source of unnatural light. On a whim, Thers traced a small ‘L’ in the wax as it cooled. The sergeant promptly took the letter and hurried to the docks. If it made the nightly ship back to D’Hara, Cenarious would receive Thers’ vow before the week was finished.
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| − | It felt good to have made official what his original offer of service only suggested: he was D’Hara’s man. A small gesture in light of ongoing events? Perhaps, Thers wondered. But it was heartfelt and sincerely written. Thers returned to his former spot and fell asleep. The rest was better than it had been in weeks.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Hexic Jeckyl'''
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| − | Hexic was still on the battlefield, he hadn't yet found the time to return to the Enterprise. Instead of going there to write letters, he dictated the letters to various scribes as he multi-tasked. It was probably best that way. One assassin had already come after him. Returning to the ship would have to wait until after his men foraged for better equipment, so he could guarantee he would be safe there. As great a victory as it had been, it saddened Hexic that Dakan had attempted to assassinate him. He had been very close to his father, and even had avenged his death. There was no excuse. His life would be forfeit.
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| − | "Duke Hexic, here is the list of nobles captured and wounded on both sides you requested." A scribe held a parchment. This was likely the same scribe that had recorded the battle, based on his promptness. Hexic accepted the document, and read it.
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| − | Sir Vigilans Animus, Magistrate of Justice of Terran, Senator of Chateau Saffalore, Marshal of the Pride of the Highlands has been seriously wounded.
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| − | Sir Francis Kinsey (Knight of Port Nebel, D'Hara) has been wounded.
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| − | Lycan Moreira, Royal Fiduciary of D'Hara has been wounded.
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| − | Pavel Jeffrey (Knight of Madina, Madina) has been wounded.
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| − | Karpur Dur (Lord of Madina) has been wounded.
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| − | Daniel Allard, Baron of Lawataling has been captured by D'Hara forces.
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| − | Vallyn Rothach, Lord Admiral of Madina, Marshal of the Madinan Ducal Guards has been seriously wounded.
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| − | "Dakan needs to be added to this list. He was just arrested for attempting to assassinate me."
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| − | "Yes Sire." The scribe knew by the tone that if he dared ask if Hexic was alright, that he himself would become a "casualty of war". Instead he clamped the report to the wooden board he held and edited the document for the Duke, returned it, and departed in haste.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | Sorsha had been walking through the camps, surveying the men when she heard whispers of a duel. She frowned and followed the voices information to Zeromus himself and Kay who had already started. The duel ended quickly, and Zeromus stood over Kay who was lightly wounded.
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| − | Her eyes darkened and her hand gripped the hilt of her dagger at her belt and she approached the fat man. “Are you mad!?” she hissed at him her voice dangerous and before she could control her anger she punched him across the face. “What has possessed you to duel on the eve of battle. “Now not only are we short a man, but Madina is at Paisly’s shores as we speak. The King will not be pleased with your behavior. I care not if the man insulted your honor, or you his and which of you initiated it. I honestly don’t care that you duel at all, but there is a time and place for such things. A little common sense man! I once had respect for you, but now I see you are nothing but a pitiful soul just waiting for the axeman’s block. Does your Marshal condone this type of behavior? Take your men, and get ready for battle!” She yelled at him, her dagger now out of her belt.
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| − | She was seething, she was so angry with him. She looked over to people who had watched the duel. “You and you, pick this knight up, make sure he is taken care off,” she pointed to Sir Kay. It was too bad the man was lightly injured, she would have given him something to think about as well.
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| − | She watched Zeromus leave, shaking her head. She was so done with his childish behavior, the moment she had a chance she would take care of him once and for all, but now was not the time. As she walked away, she heard the battle horns, calling to defend the ramparts. The Madinans had arrived, it was time.
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| − | Sorsha ran back to her men, and prepared herself for battle. She yelled out orders to her men to protect the walls at all cost, and joined the ranks picking up her bow. It was beautifully crafted, the entire edge of it adorned with mystical runes, and larger than any regular bows. It had been a gift from Kaylan before her cousin had left home, now it would be put to good use.
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| − | Some hours later, the battle had ended, but the war was not over. Sorsha walked around the men, making sure everyone was taken care of and no one had been overlooked. She had lost a handful herself, and some injured but they would soon be back on their feet.
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| − | Among the men she noticed Hexic, and gave him a respectful nod. Much was going on this morning. She then noticed her Captain approach her, and she stopped walking. “He is well,” he told her and she gave a firm nod. “Good,” she said tiredly. She had been coiled tightly, she was exhausted from the battle but she refused to stop until she was sure Mathias was fine. “Inform me if there are any changes,” she said and returned to her command tent.
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