Urominiel Family/Glorawarthien

Glorawarthien

Realms: Sirion, Assassins, Plergoth, Arcaea, Svunnetland, Soliferum, Antoza Commonwealth, Grand Lodge of Lunaria, Nighthelm, Toren, Kingdom of Alluran.
Positions: Count, Battlegroup commander, Duke, Former Prime Minister. Currently: Deceased, Executed in Falasan.

The Fall of Omsk

Not many can say they fought during the fall of Omsk and even though he did, his recollection of the events were spotty. The allied realms of Sirion, Eleador and Rancagua had amassed a large army outside of Kazakh, the capital of Omsk. While Oligarch did what they could to help their allies Omsk would fall.

He was just a eagar young noble, looking forward to his first real battle with his unit of famous sirion mixed infantry. The ranks of men and elves waited in battle formation upon the swampy outskirts of the city. Glorawarthien looked across the battlefield, scanning the ranks of Eleador infantry for his brother. They would have a great many stories to tell back home when this battle was over.

The attack order came and his men readied themselves for taking on the daunting fortifications of the city. Arrows readied, his mixed unit moved into range with the rest of the archers as the battle horn sounded for the infantry charge. Volleys of arrows were loosed as the Rancagua-Eleador infantry swept across the battlefield like a blue-green wave. The marshes around the city slowed their advance, their siege weaponry caught in the bog. The fighting at the wall caused heavy casualties on both sides. But the battle turned for the better as the large units of pegasus knights flew overhead, charging the defenders atop the battlements. As the defenders fell from their fortifications, the walls were soon breached and Glorawarthien marched his men through the breached fortifications to mop up the remainder of the defending forces.

It was not until the battle was over had he stopped to look around him, blood pooled in the streets as the dead were piled for burial. This was the first time he had seen the devastation of war, its true face behind the romanticized mask, though it would not be the last.

A Path into the Shadows

The war with the south had gone on for many years now, with countless casualties on both sides. The advances of each side as regular as the lunar cycle of the tides. The lands gained after each campaign would be the same lands lost in the next. Niether side was able to forge ahead with decisive victories to end the war. The supply lines to the blood marred fields were too long to have the regions secured. The allied realms near the front lines lacked the economy of the Sirion war machine, and in the most recent set of battles were no match for the advancing south. Thousands of men fell, mostly Eleador, but a small contigent of Sirionite elves lead by veteran commanders were also amongst the dead. However, Sirion as a whole had become complacent and left much of the heavy fighting to its allies instead focusing on internal administration. The northern alliance was starting to lose ground, but Sirion knew the lands could be retaken with the next moon. But that wasnt good enough, because of Sirions complacency, he had lost his brother in Ashforth, a man with a wife a child, a boy he had protected his entire life, but couldn't this time. How many more young men must fall in order for this stubborn war to end.

He removed his chest plate and dropped it to the wooden floor, then began to gather his Clothes from a nearby drawer. The traditional arts of war had failed him. There was no glory in dying on a battlefield. There was too little he and any other noble could do to change the tides of war, a nameless soldier whos single goal was to kill and not be killed. The soldiers know not why they fight, save to protect hearth and home. There was more he could do to end the war, to ensure that good men like his brother wouldn't have to fall on the battlefield. He would remove the weed by its roots, without a proper chain of command and a flow of gold, every war must come to a end. So it was decided, he would leave for the assassins guild the following day. He threw his hood from his gray cloak over his head as he let the door close behind him. He did not know when he would have a chance to see Nnaoj or Elenhir again and he regretted not being able to watch over them in place of his fallen brother, but it was a sacrifice he needed to make to ensure many more young women and children don't have the same fate.

A New Light

Part I

Glorawarthien sat in his court room after solving a dispute over a stolen pig, he quite liked his decision and was going to enjoy the ham he would have for dinner tonight. He waited for the next commoner to enter with their mundane problems but instead he was greated by a messenger. After hearing the new that the Senate would be dissolved, Glorawarthien didnt know how to react. The fact that he had only been to a few Senate meetings didn't help the matter. Their was one thing he was sure of his loyalties will remain with the Lady Hoshi, wherever that would take him he would be willing to go. Along while has passed since he promised to find the person who placed the bounty on Zhiang Zhoa and he had made no progress. Zhoa has even left Svunnetland and no further word on the mystery would arrive. The year would soon pass and he would be a free man, free to transverse the continent looking for something worth his time. As thoughts of the events coursed through his mind, two men entered escorted by guards.

"Baron, this mans hound attacked my sheep, something must be done!"

Glorawarthien wondered what would taste better, hound or sheep.

Part II

Glorawarthien would be forever grateful to Hoshi. She had looked passed his barren exterior of the man who attempted to assassinate her father and taken him into her own order. But now he had found a new life out of the shadows and it would be his own life to lead. He repayed what he could of all that she had done for him, but he had new responsibilities so regrettably he penned the letter.

Lady Hoshi

I will be taking my leave from your service soon after disposing of both batman and shadowtheif from Soliferum. Batman forced from general and dukeship for apparent high treason, though shadowthief never managed to show the proof. Now Shadowthief has left suddenly without much reason, though I suspect I know why. After I have disposed of Senoske I will have officially completed my mission of determining and eliminating the ones that put the bounty on your father, the entire former Svunnetland Empire military.

Glorawarthien of the Emerald Order, Duke of Osaliel

Interlude

Glorawarthien watched the dance floor begin to get populated, each noble lady that graced it beautiful in her own right. Maybe he wished that he could be like the fine nobleman there that night, to have a dance in the time a peace and a home to return to, yet maybe not.

He knew the path he took was a solitary one. Any relationship could get cut abruptly short as death was merciless in that way. He couldnt be where death lurked and yet he was death, for everything and everyone he loved and/or touched were now dead (one way or another). If anyone knew the uselessness of bodyguards, he did and so he walks the path alone for kepting anyone at his side wasnt an option.

Glorawarthien takes another gaze over the ladies in the room, keeping in mind anyone he could ever love, he could never have and and anyone he could ever have, he would never love. Finally he approaches Surreal, she was similar to the ladies he has known before, but he was used to paying for their services...

Surreal looked amusingly at the man approaching her, one that knew what he liked and always got what he wanted. One she would not mind playing with.

She remembered her time with Lord Burfgand who preferred things roughter than what she would liked but never hurt his partner. She wasn't sad that she wasn't with him, but she never liked staying put. She was a whore after all eventhough she didn't make others pay for her services now she was making motions to get land for her Red Moon House, a house where all pleasures and needs could be serviced.

But she came back to reality when Glorawarthien (crtl c of course :p) ask her a simple question "Lady Surreal, I too would like to know who I would have to bed for a region, but seeing as how you arent bedding anyone at the moment, care for a dance?"

Laughing in pure amusement, Surreal says to Glorawarthien "Sugar, with your manners I do think I will but on one condition only, will you join me later for some pillow talk and allow my student Lavigna to watch and learn, it will be unforgettable, of that I am certain of sugar?"

...

And here he was again, feeling powerless to stop the enveloping darkness from claiming a thing he loved, a city he had come to known as home. Perhaps it was a mistake to get attached, to let himself get involved and letting his emotions cloud his judgment. Things were much simpler when it was just about filling his pockets and not asking questions. He knew before and he was reminded again, he could not do everything, be everywhere, or serve his mandate as protector of all the peoples of the former Svunnetland Empire. He was just a man.

The people are quick to move for war, to find insult where there is none and to cut diplomacy short to replace it with terror and death. With half the island resolved in removing of the few realms not in their collective, there were too many places he needed to be, too many enemies that he had made, and what he could do was far too little. The armies approached from all directions as he made his way unseen, undecided; after all how much difference could one man make.

Guilt

A single tear made its way through the stubble down Glorawarthiens cheek. His many years of training had taught him to bury his emotions, turned him into well tuned malicious machine, but that cold barren exterior was from years passed. He no longer had it in him since he joined the Emerald Order. Why did he let her wrestle him from the tendrils of shadows. What was it that caused the unique connection he felt with Lady Hoshi. Why did he have the same feeling sitting in Svunnetlands dungeons during her visits as those he had in Eleador with his brother and Nnaoj. Those women that seemed so vulnerable but yet could manipulate him with only the use of their tongues; those that could look past his exterior and see him for what he really was, they were his bane. Glorawarthien couldn't help but let the questions burst into his consciousness as he walked the lonely path under the twilight sky towards the city.

The walls of Eno glimmered ahead in the breaking dawn. The single droplet hung from his chin like the morning dew; a constant reminder of the night that had passed. Eno, the city of his niece, or so is the accepted rumour. It had been a long while since he had been to the East Continent, he had left shortly after his brothers death and Nnaoj's disappearance. He never had the chance to see Nnaoj since she mysteriously reappeared with Annaej. Perhaps it was the guilt he felt for abandoning the young widow for his assassins training. And there it was again, guilt. How it would creep up on him, for the many years he had managed to rid himself of it, a few nights in Svunnetlands prison and it would plague him forever.

Freedom at Last

To Do