- 1 1st November
- 2 4th November
- 3 15th November
- 4 19th November
- 5 21st November
- 6 22nd November
- 7 24th November
Summer Day -- Ikalak Prison
Kraken was Studying the ledger and the roll call. This mornings battle had been a mild succes even though they had to yield the field, losses were light and enough damage had been done. One wounded commander that could hopefully get out soon and not be captured. This would be a quiet week with hopefully a better and stronger army at the end of it. There was still no word of lady Scein and the others imprisoned during the battle of Neralle and its aftermath. Krakens bones chilled when he thought what they might do to their proud Dutchess...
Summer Evening -- Taselak
General Kraken took the roster of the commanders in Endelee, quatermaster Andre came in with that sullen look as he handed over the parchment.
How many missing?
About half, melord...
So does that mean we expect to gain half a glorious victory?
Half of what melord?
Half a battle? Half the Glory? Or just defeat, plain and simple?
I suppose melord...
OK, Tell the men in Taselak they are expected in Endelee by sunup!
Very well melord, and the women what about the women?
Just get over to the city and tell everybody able to swing a blade or pole to bring it here, come morning, it is not that far, sleeping is for the dead...
Summer Day -- Taselak
Armitage IV D'Anglos
Armitage raised her hand when she heard the noble speak
"If no other nobles are brave enough to attempt to rebuild our realm and regions, I will volunteer to be the Lady of that region."
Summer Day -- Taselak
Kraken went over the Battle reports and was shocked at the resources ding defeat their forces had sustained. The last five minimumeis of Battle were pure slaughter and exactly the kind of slaughter that had been planned to inflict on the ikkies, infantry cutting through skirmishing archers. 30 dead versus 300. This would not do. The hammer needed an anvil. Some solid units of high armoired infantry in stead of these soggy archers. He saw the wounded men four five nobles many more soldiers plod southwards Into Taselak for refitting.
Underway to Taselak Kraken shares his thoughts with candidly with everyone.
Lately I have been musing about the nature of fruit. Are we a banana? Soft I side and slimy of peel hoping to trip our enemies with our limpness, are we a coconut hard of head and shelll And tough the meat within. Or are we a prickly pear, butter of flesh and a sting to the touch? Are we a peach a berry squashed under foot? I hope we can be a pineapple grow upright instead of dangling to appease gravity. Alert and to attention. That way we could take And defend what we have gained. Let’s refit and make ourselves into the pineapple of my musings....
Summer Day -- Taselak
My lords, my ladies,
The king has asked us to celebrate with him, to think of the good and bad times Taselak has seen And realise That there is a way up, we k ow this is so Because we have come up from when we were down to two regions. Sadly Kiala k has both speed and strength on us, We cannot fight harder but we can fight smarter.
But first we drink the fruit wine and the fermented goat urine from the mountains of toren. I happen to have on case left...
Summer Evening -- Taselak
Kraken took the Rollcall of the army, brought to him by many scribes carrying way to few pieces of parchment.
One by one stragglers dropped in from the Neralle campaign. The battle was lost in sight of the finish line and that hurts a bit because of all the good hours wasted and the beer of course.
Still everyone was here save the wounded and the dead everyone had bonds to spend and by the sight of it the houses of drink and ill repute were packed.
Kraken felt like dancing, a traditional Ibladeshi sword dance would do, nothing less. He had found a place off the main square where a man play d a fiddle like no one else. He wondered who he would run in to...
Summer Evening -- Taselak
The band start playing all the locals are dancing taselak is once again happy people are enjoying themselves. For a moment for a brief moment the king seems to be enjoying himself a war bound nation no longer weighing on his mind. He walks over to the new nobles “ feel free to enjoy the dancing there is plenty of ale. Also servant send our finest flowers to our banker see needs to see some beauty the tireless hours of doing our finances will drive a person mad”. Preston walks up to his good friend Artinian and smashes ale goblets with him while they entertain the locals with an old sailing song.
Kraken sat at the bar stooped over a long drink...
He needed a moment to reflect on the battle of Neralle and the retreat back to Taselak.
The Ikalak General had shown great skill moving in unison, pursuing the remnants of the army and eradicating many units.
Their army had not been that much bigger but the results were dramatic.
Kraken had looked over the battle again and again in his mind.
The wipe out of their archery component in the final charge.
He should have asked the troopleaders to stay after the battle, to regroup before moving.
He should have set up the archers in line on the front row so they could do more melee damage.
He took another Drink... Marshal Fechin had never returned.
Slowly the reality of the city in celebration was breaking through his brooding.
Outside in the street, a band was playing children dancing girls smiling.
As artinian walked through the doors he saw the king and hit his fist to his chest in a salute and shouted above the rumble and ruckus of the party my king....the room grew to a hush my dear friend... As you requested I have brought the finest liquors...meads.. and ales my lands had to offer he then lifts he horn of special Brandy he personally brewed and drank it empty turning and throwing the empty horn to his commander he asked him to fill it... Rev I'll have my personal barrel rolled over by your throne for us to share and the rest shall be spread throughout the room taped and ready for consumption for all to enjoy for I believe they may not be able to handle the strong stuff I've brew for yourself and I and I apologise in advance for my men can get roudy in such circumstances as they love a good party.. artinian reach behind him just in time for his commander to finish filling his horn and place it in his hand and his squire to approach and hand rev a large horn of brady... He quickly raised his horn sloshing the Brandy around and yelled "this war may be hard but not as hard as our hearts for we have returned from nothing back to something the ikkies may ask for a cease fire but for one reason... Fear they have been at the end of our blades so close as they have looked down it and into our eyes and saw something to fear men and women of this great lands determination..they heard the hearts in our chest pounding with strength and love for our home and they knew then this wasn't a group that would roll over and drop trousers that in order to defeat us they would have to kill us all and it was in that moment a cold chill flew down there spines and returned home hoping we wouldn't continue pressing" he looked around the room took another large gulp from his horn and shouted to the brave men and women of taselak to the ones that have laid down there lives.. and to our king the man who returned us from the brink he took another drink and started laughing histariclly enough formalities let us drink until we can no longer see straight then he walked to the king and slapped horns with a sheepish grin and said my brother talked of how well you could handle your liquor shall we see if you still have it my friend
"Your Grace?" a young serving girl stood in the half-open doorway, in her arms a large vase seemingly larger than herself and bursting with fresh-cut flowers. Behind her the distant sounds of revelry could be heard from the Great Hall.
Scein looked up from her ledgers, fingers as unstained by the quill with which she'd been preparing work-orders as her flesh was by the many blades which had vainly sought to end her life. She paused for a moment, the intensity of her ice-blue stare causing the servant to shiver involuntarily, eyes which had gazed on the cold, dark reaches of the Higher Realms seeming to cut to her very core.
"They're from His Majesty M'lady," the girl smiled nervously.
"A thoughtful gesture," the tension was broken, "place them in the window bay where they'll catch the light in the morning."
A thoughtful gesture indeed. The Margravine turned back to her duties, glad to have an excuse to avoid the festivities. She loved her people dearly but that made it all the harder, the one remaining fragment of Old Taselak in a world turned mad. What she wouldn't give to see her friends restored to their former selves... but there was the sticking point. For if she yielded what The Beppo sought its evil would no longer be contained here in the South Isle but freed to spread ruin across the whole world.
"Oh Mother, why did you not smother us at birth?"
Even in ruins the Great Haven of Darfix wore a stately grandeur, mightiest of all the cities of the undrowned lands and yet too dear a prize for any King to long tame, not even the proud Horse Lords of fallen Niselur. Not that Moira had given any thought to such vanities since abandoning the noble life to which she'd been born, committing herself a wanderer in the trackless wastes of a foreign land, mother of Generals and Queens yet unremarked by the mighty.
It had started long before in a cellar in An Najaf when a foolish boy had made a compact with an ancient power far beyond his understanding, seeking to bind a Lord of the High Firmament to his venal desires. With his death a weighty burden had fallen on Moira's shoulders. One which her faith had been unable to ease. Thus she gathered rumours from far and wide, consulting with priests and scholars and workers of wonders, with the seers of Sirion and the Maunts of Old Rancagua until she learned of the distant Zuma and resolved to speak with them.
To speak. Aye, a foolish notion. For who but a fool or a madman would seek to speak with those fell and haughty beings? Exiles one and all from the High Firmament with little love for the race of men. She'd had her chance to speak alright for upon a certain night a pregnant Moira had been waylaid by the servants of Screamer and a dreadful melee ensued, one which she barely escaped with her life. The twins in her belly grew fast after that, nourished somehow by the essence her twin blades had drawn.
The physicians in Via had been no help, and the men of neighbouring Caerwyn were resolved to know little of such matters. So she travelled north, learning what she could from the hermits and anchorites of the western wilderlands, all the time dreading what might be growing in her womb. Thus it was that beyond all hope she'd heard the legend of the Silver Temple and her feet turned to Darfix where the fate of her unborn daughters would be revealed...
Upon receiving celebration letter from Taselak Ruler, Captain Flavorilla looks at the Countess Iris who is laying down on the bed still wounded. Captain almost shakes her head immediately as she says "Inform the King that Countess Iris is not in fit condition to travel immediately. Her men remain loyal to her and would protect her from harm."
The kings messaged gives him a letter it’s from lady Iris he reads over it and puts his hand up motions from someone to come over. “ go fetch my personal physician and take him to iris immediately do not stop anyone else”. Rev looks around the room at everyone and it seems like time slows he paces through them old taselak on his mind he makes his way to General Kraken “ My General after this we are going to issue a no to the ikkies I want to give them all we have this time we take Belus then we can strategize with sandies we will show them our might”. Rev shakes krakens hand then makes his way to the gardens. He sits on a beautifully carved marble bench looking over the lands. Coulson Blues grave standing tall rev walks over to it and says “ old friend we need you on the battlefield please help us in the future battles to come we need everyone to be at there mightiest”.
Summer Evening -- Taselak
Kraken surveyed the camp in Belus, it was good to see so many young nobles that had bloodied their blades for the first time. There were more battles ahead. For now a freedom celebration lasting 3 days would be held to sway the people of Belus, maybe less if all chipped in from their private cellars. The fruit wines mixed with the clear water from the mountains. Taselak was Rising once more.