A Mighty Quest For Thee

Behemoth

Experienced
Joined
Mar 23, 2001
Posts
34
Hey, everybody! I'm totally new to this, but I love what's happening! Unfortunatelly, when I look at King and Country I see great stuff, but it gets confusing with that many people(probably because the idea is TOO good!) So, I'd like to start a thread along the same lines. Swords and sorcery, War of the Realms, type genre. Cool? Here goes: I'll be glad to keep it up.
One caveat: Only serious gamers need apply. No runon sentences giving your bio in one shot. Feel free to start your character on your FIFTH post as weel as your first! Use the preceding posts to weave your way into the main line, give yourself some development. Be creative.

Okay, here goes:

Rothran sighed in disbelief as he looked at the parchments in front of him.

So many.....

He lifted his gaze to stare at his charred walls, stone blackened by fire.

So many.....that he was sworn to protect.

His mighty arms ached with pent up rage and fatigue both. He needed to sleep, but sleep would never come. Not after what he had seen.

So many.....that he would never see again.

His ears still carried the cruel wind's report of wailing outside his castle walls. A few women who were strong had gone for help, but the only men left were here in his guard. And that number had been greatly.....reduced.

So many......that he would never be able to love again.

The parchments told of the casualties brought by the invading monsters. Not in two hundred years, since the time of the swarven Rocksmith Clan's greatness, had the evil flowed out of the mountain like water, destroying and burning what it touched. Ghouls, goblins, hobgoblins, dark elves leading the way with their gigantic eight legged mounts, even elemental forces had carried the day, and carried his people to their graves. His anger was matched only by his shame, that he had not been able to defend his people.



The woman gasped her greeting to the city walls, bowmwn watching her warily. "I am here to see the Great King Agron!" she wailed. "My people have been slaughtered by the Great Evil from Mount Polro!"

Half-interested eyes suddenly swiveled at that remark. Inside, the guards who chuckled at an old woman's plight now stared at the barred gates. The order was given-"Quickly-let her in!" Hands tightened on pikes and swords. Leather squeaked as men raised their heads from conversation. She was speedlily ushered in.

King Agron's head raised slowly as his great throne room doors opened. A wailing woman's cry echoed in his chambers. What was this? He hurried to her side.

She collapsed before he arrived. Holding her slight form in his arms, he gazed wonderingly at her face. A red scar blazed on her cheek. He had seen that scar only once before . . .

"Mighty King, your brother in virtue, King Rothran, sends word that his city has been utterly destroyed by the Evil from the Mount Polro. Stop.."she gasped, "stop these invaders. It has come, The prophecy is come. Ah." Her grasp of his shoulder slipped. She dropped her arm and flopped, dead as a beached fish. He stared, then lowered her form gently to the floor.

His mind raced. How to deal with this threat? His army was barely capable of defending their lands, let alone raising an army. He needed information. Standing to his considerable height, he nodded to his attendants. They briskly but gently carried this woman to a proper place.
Striding to his scribes' chanbers, he slammed the oak door aside, and pointing a gauntleted hand at his scribes' desk, he boomed:

"Set aside a new proclamation, Scribe: From this day forth, King Agron seeks strong and hearty souls to adventure for him on a quest unlike any this land has seen for two centuries! I seek adventurers to travel to the heart of Mount Polro, the home of ancient evil, to rid this land of creatures that were spat upon by our ancestors.

"Make it plain: this land needs heroes of great renown, who will stop at nothing to free the land. Note it, Scribe, and place it in everey public post in this land. That is all." He turned and stalked off.
 
Ariel approached the castle gates noting that alot of it showed signs of fire. She stopped at the gates and the Gaurds eyed her suspiciously. She didn't blame them, all they saw was a cloaked figure carrying a sword. They saw nothing of the woman underneath. When she spoke her voice held a note of authority "I wish to speak with your king. This is a very important matter and has to do with the raids from the mountain, I believe I may be able to help him immensly" Ariel awaited the gaurds reply. They looked at her hesitating. She remained silent. "Please wait here I will speak with the king" One said gruffly before heading off towards the castle. Ariel sat patiently awaiting the kings reply.
 
Ariel's Entrance to the Throne Room

Rothran stood as his attendant entered the throne room. "Your majesty?"
His head lifted raggedly, slowly. "Yes?"

"A visitor asks for an audience, sire. A woman."

He waved uncaringly. The guard stepped out of his sight.

The head guard suspiciously waved the young woman, Airel, in. "His majesty, King Rothran, will see you. Enter straight and remain where you are told. Aye?" She nodded.

Two burly guards snapped to attention and turned to escort her into the castle. Burned and blackened walls and tapestries met her every gaze. The oaken doors leading to the throne were charred. She pushed.

"Sire, your audience has arrived."
 
Ariel walked gracfully into the room. "I wish to speak alone with the king if you don't mind" the gaurds hesitated then consented closing the door behind them. Ariel removed her hood revealing auburn hair and greenish gold eyes. Her features were delicate but her eyes showed strength and an inner fire. She approached the king bowing slightly showing her respect. "Your majesty my name is Ariel, I am queen of the Amazons to the east. We to have had problems with the evil that has come from the mountains. Yet my numbers are still great. I have come to aid us both, I am here to propose that we join forces, all my Amazons are skilled with swords and bows and hand to hand combat. They are fearless and loyal. I believe that joning forces will be the only way for either of us to survive this trial" Ariel watched the king awaiting his reply.
 
A new alliance?

Rothran narrowed his eyes at this attractive, powerful colleague. He remembered the Amazons, aloof people that they were. Rarely had his people interacted, although there had never been any ill blood between them. He stood.

"I am overburdened and tired from battle, my lady. However, this seems to be good news. Mayhap you could stay here this night so we may discuss details?"
 
Ariel nodded "I will stay for the night but no longer then that, I must return to my kingdom to notify my subjects of your decision" she removed the rest of her cloak revealing a pair of riding pants that hugged tightly to her legs and a top that showed her midriff. Not exactly the fashion for ladies during that time but she wore it for comfort nothign more. "Don't think me rude but is there a place I might clean up? I have traveled long and hard to reach this place"
 
Whoa....

Rothran was a fatigued, battle-weary soldier, but he knew what he was looking at. An Amazon is said to be the mightiest in battle, and ...other things. Still, his voice and manner were composed, a worthy warrior's front. He gestured, and the guards remaining snapped to attention.

"These two of my honor guard will escort you to suitable quarters, my lady." His boots clacked as he traversed the large room to stand an arm's length apart from his new arrival. His shoulders squared.

"You must needs know that many of my kind have died this day. Doubtless more are to follow. This can only be the great evil we have both heard from our childhood about. We knew they would come soneday, milday. They are here, now."

He looked for her reaction.
 
Ariel felt an attraction the king. She angrily scolded herself for feeling that way. She was here for business and the welfare of her people. Not for trivial things. "I know of this evil, and know that they can be stopped. But I also know that I can not stop them alone only together can we defeat these creatures" she frown slightly "I am sorry for your losses I would have aided you if it were possible but we were having much of the same problems"
 
Rothran took the statement in stride. He nodded. "Fair enough. These devils are extreme enough to deal with, even if we are allies." He sighed heavily. "It is time for you to rest. Come. I will show you to your chanbers for the night." He gestured, and they swept out of the room.

The guards exchanged glances as the pair left the throne room.
 
Ariel nodded and followed him out of the throne room. Her eyes took in her surroundings. "Your castle looks to have been quite beautiful before the fire" she said. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and breifly wondered if he was married then shook her head pushing that thought away. What was wrong with her? "I hope it does not bother you to have women helping you. Most men I know wouldn't let them because of his pride, you seem different some how. You are a rare find indeed" she said softly her mind beginning to wander as memorie flooded through her. Memories that she didn't wish to remember. She firmly pushed them away and turned her attention back to the king.
 
OOC: Behemoth... I would love to join, but unluckily can't as to the whopping number of threads I am in at the presemt moment. But, I would like to seep in later. I will, of course, be going with my tradition and of course, playing Lokken(again)
 
Sasha Thoron

Sleep..

She needed sleep so badly and yet she could not.. would not allow it. What if they come again? She was the only one left, all the others were gone. Dead or missing.

Sasha moved closer to the small fire she'd built to ward off the evil ones. She could hear them out there. Or maybe it was only the wind. Yes, maybe just the wind..
 
Gregor Carawan

Gregor looked upon the castle with eyes accostomed to the mines of his people. This castle he knew had once been a very beautifull place. Before the fire that had obviously ravaged it. He hefted his war hammer, which was knoched several hundred times, over his left shoulder. He read the request for aid once again as he had so many times before on his journey here. "This land needs heroes of great renown, who will stop at nothing to free the land" it said.
He shifted atop his great white war horse and continued forward. He wore spiked steel gauntlets, open fingered, on each hand, an had similar half inch spikes protruding from his elbows and knees. He wore armor of parallel, horizontal metal ridges half an inch apart and ringing his body from neck to mid-thigh, and his arms from shoulder to forearm. His grey helmet was open-faced, with thick leather straps running under his clean shaven chin the helmet had small spikes running from the crest of the forehead all the way over and down the back of the hel each a quarter inch long.
As he approached the castle walls a man atop the tower cried out to him,
" Who goes there and what do ya want?"
" I am Gregor Carawan, " he began, " First son of King Malderas Carawan of Queltrest, and Master of the Ragers of Everflame. I have come to the summons of your king I am here to help."
 
Reply to Ariel's Conversation

Rothran glanced in her direction as they neared her chambers for the night. That hair, that voice, that build-Ariel and his former wife could have been sisters. Ariel caught the sadness of his expression upon meeting her gaze.

"Lord, what troubles you?" she asked softly.

He sighed heavily, the fatigue evident. "I have fought for many days straight my lady, that is all. I grow weary of blood. My brother, King Agron from across the Altwind Plains, has sent his tribute to me with a few men. They are powerful and stout, although their loyalty is questionable. I think we attract more rabble than hero when we have desperate times such as these. Still," he continued, looking out an archer's window at the rubble smoking below, "In these times, a man may find himself of use where previously soldiers took up his task. Great opportunity may lie in wait for those strong enough to grasp it now, I suppose."

"But that lies not for me. My people rebuild their city, and I need to find what evil this is that has desroyed my land. I will lead this party of heroes," he growled, fist grinding into his massive palm. "And be it lich or lichen that guards the mountain Polro, I will crash it to the ground to live no more. So mark the words of Rothran."
 
Reply to Gregor Caravan

OOC: Sorry I haven't been around to respond! I will be back every night at least to check on progress of our tale. Welcome all. Morgoth, don't feel bad. I know the feeling. :)

"Gregor Carawan!"

The name was whispered, spoken aloud, and sent from one end of the city to the other. Gregor Carawan was a name not unknown in this city-his father had once led a great charge against their nieghboring land of Altwind, against nomads bent on ruining and plundering what they had not the civilization to build themselves. That had been a wondrous battle-rangers against bandit, noble against cutthroat, purse snatcher vanquished by mighty sword arm. Could there be a more fitting hero?

Quickly, the gates were opened, the creak of old stout wood pushing into post holes as the drawbridge lowered with a ponderous crash. The chains went slack as the gatesmen locked down the bridge.

"Honor guard-HUP!" came the loud call. Three soldiers lined up and marched their way to the center of the bridge. Gregor pranced his way toward them on his horse.



The honor guard and Gregor squared off at the center of the bridge, the setting sun framing them in shafts of orange light.

The colonel from King Agron's guard spoke first. "Gregor Carawan, the city of Klasckel welcomes you and yours to our fair city. Were it in need, the land of Everflame's might would receive such aid from Klasckel as it needed. May your weapon be quick as your father's in our time of need."

Gregor nodded sagely. "It pleases me to be here, man. Inform your king that I await his convenience." The guards snapped to attention, calling a quick "Hup!" before step-timing to the side. Gregor's mount pawed the ground and snorted as Gregor urged him forward, past the guards and into Klackel.
 
Gregor Carawan

Gregor shifted visibly atop the horse as he looked out from the city gates at the camp where his fellow berzerkers awaited his return. There was a group of fifteen others with him this day known as the Blood Eagles and he was their commander. They were the elite amongst the ragers of everflame and had to the man survived every battle with the darkness as it had come to Queltrest many a rager and common soilder had fallen but none amongst the Blood Eagles had tasted death. Finally the magi within the tower of Sorcery had been able to pirge the darkness from the kingdom of Queltrest.

After hearing of the carnage throughout the other kingdoms to the south Gregor had convinced his father of the opportunity to form alliances with the southlands in exchange for military aide. That is why Gregor had come carrying personally the offer of soilders and supplies to the beseiged south. Now here in the city of Klasckel, Gregor laughed inwardly at the offer of aid to his home a bastion of strength for nearly eight hundred years, but a strength tempered with knowledge.

Queltrest was a city carved into the side of a mountain where the people were hardened by working the mines mining for mithral and silver along with precious gems and gold.
Gregor's armor was made entirely of the most precious metal in all the land Mithral, as was his helm and the head of his hammer.

" Tell your king I bring an offer from my King, " Gregor began, " an offer for aid against a common foe. In exchange for the lift of taxes upon the trade caravans we send south. I offer a force of nearly 200 battle ragers in supprt to your cause and an additional force of archers, magi, and knights equalling another 200. All for the support of your fair city until the darkness is driven from the land. Tell your king of my offer and give him this treaty all he needs to do is sign it and all this will be as I have said. "

Gregor watched as the guard took the parchment handed him and scurried off twards the palace. Now all Gregor had to do was wait.
 
A Mighty Alliance is forged

King Agron read the parchment from Queltrest with interest. He was not surprised that these warriors were capable to the task-his question was how they decided to send any at all. What could be the motive? Is it that they were purely noble in intent? The king stood to his feet and pounded on a gong with his gauntleted hand. A moment later, a few large framed men entered his archway.
"Sire?" came a call. King Agron nodded at his most dependable officers, men of courage and strength. In this city, as with most, there existed a powerful class of warrior that scoffed at the term "hero", but most qualified for the term. These were his commanders, the peak of their abilities matched only by the measure of their confidence. He strode to the main table, a well-worn polished slab of bronze supported by lions' heads carved out of acacia wood. He gestured.
"Attend me."
They came to his side and sat, eldest first, as was custom.
He chose to stand and slowly pace around the table. "We have an offer from the lands of Queltrest." Heads turned. "They have offered us an . . . alliance."
"You mean a stranglehold," offered one of them. King Agron held his hand up, and the man subsided.
"They claim to offer military aid in exchange for lifting of the burden we place upon their goods."
"Ridiculous!" one of them spat. "Without those tariffs, our people would have no work!"
"They would have no work because everyone would buy Queltrest armor and weapons, my friend. Before long, they will have enough market power to sell mithral cooking kettles to us," said another somberly. "This is not good, my King."
"Aye," he responded. "But I do not see a way out of our fix. We need this help-"
A man sputtered. "Your majesty, I must object. We have never had an enemy within these walls, ever since your great-grandfather built them. We are given aide by an older player, but not one who bargains from a position of strength over us. Our guard could even contend with these men themselves, if necessary." The King waved away his impertinence.
"There has been enough battle this day, my comrade. Your bravery speaks where your mind should think. We DO need this help-"sullen glances-"but this trade agreement would do us harm. Before I bring their hero in, I would know where we stand, comrades."
"My Lord, this is an insult to our people's pride," said the first quickly. "We stand independent in the Realms. This would be a first step to subjugation of our people under the thumb of another. We cannot see it stand."
"I agree, sir. At the very least, concessions must be made between Queltrest's position and ours. Perhaps a delegation could be sent to ascertain this likelihood?" the other asked.
The King shook his maned head. "That would be most unwise, considering the mighty men my scouts tell me are just outside the gates. If we send an envoy, we insult the caravan that has come to us." He sighed. The mantle of leadership never had been easy, after all. "Squire, bring these men inside our walls, if they are willing, and offer them the best that Klasckel has. I would see their envoy as soon as he is able." The young waif nodded and disappeared.

The squire was known for his speed in carrying messages across the city. It was said that he once carried news all the way from the Tower of Pren to King Agron's castle in ten minutes, on foot. He whipped through the corridors of his majesty's edifice and sprang from the inner court, boots flying. Gregor laid a hand on his horse to steady him as the youth flew up and bowed.
"My King, Agron the Mighty, requests an audience with you, sir. Your men are welcome in our gates as long as you remain, and we are to offer you only our best in accomodations. You are to be escorted by me to our castle-" he pointed at th imposing structure of stone and mortar behind him-"and led to the throne room of his majesty himself. Will you join me, sir?"

OOC: Feel free to RP yourself right into the presence of the King, Kalann. You can include some characterization of them, if you want, but nothing about the trade agreement until I post the King's words with you. Also, is there a time that you would be online so we could finish the conversation quickly, by replying to each other's posts faster? Thanks! ;)
 
Gregor listened as the young boy spoke to him,

"My King, Agron the Mighty, requests an audience with you, sir. Your men are welcome in our gates as long as you remain, and we are to offer you only our best in accomodations. You are to be escorted by me to our castle-" he pointed at th imposing structure of stone and mortar behind him-"and led to the throne room of his majesty himself. Will you join me, sir?"

A smile crossed the tower of a man as the child spoke to him. When the boy had finished Gregor said,

" Send someone to my men when they are safely within the walls of the city then I will go to your king. Make haste in doing so that I am not to keep the king waiting longer than needs be."

Immediately the child shot past him and out the gate twards the waiting Ragers. Gregor had hoped the child wouldn't go himself but nothing could be done about it now.

**********************************************************

Outside the city the young boy ran up a hill and crested it. Before him stood the camp of the Blood Eagles. The camp was arrayed in a circle around one enormous tent, which the boy assumed to be the tent of Gregor Carawan. He slowly made his way twards the camp and the men milling around all in armor similar to Gregors save for their helms. One bore the twisted horns of a Horrocrag and another the long straight horns of a bull. The men carried war hammers, or Great axes, and some carried broadswords. The first of the men to see the boy was the man in the helm with the twisted horns.
The men appeared more like steel demons than men, but their appearence was aided by there ferocity in battle to strike fear in the hearts of those who stood against them. The boy approached the camp and the man said to him,

" What do ye want child o Klasckel. " the man with the twisted horns on his helm asked.

" I-I-I w-w-as sent here by Gregor to bring you into the city. " the boy stammered out his answer.

" Oh, really now were ye ? " the man asked, " We shall see and for your sake you best be telling me straight child. "

The man brought a large twisted object to his mouth and blew into it. It made a deep wailing sound like that of a banshee.

" Now we wait for an answer. " the man said.

************************************************************

Gregor heard the wailing of the horn as it was blown by Riak he assumed since he had left Riak in command in his absence. Gregor raised a similar horn to his own lips and blew into it producing a similar sound.

************************************************************

When Riak heard the answer he turned to the others and said,

" Break camp, for we sleep within the walls of a city again this night, and be quick about it I want the camp down in five. "

As Riak had commanded the camp was broken in five minutes and they were within the city in another five. Gregor and Riak went aside and talked to each other alone for a moment.

" Take the men and get some rest at the inn where they lead you to stay. " Gregor said, " I am to meet with their king."

" You go alone to meet with this man you know nothing of Sir Gregor." Riak began, " Your father would not look kindly upon me for letting that take place I shall accompany you if it doesn't displease you to be in my company."

Gregor shook his head and let Riak have his way the two had been friends for nearly all their 27 years of life. Had anyone other than Riak questioned Gregor's command they wouldn't have walked away from the exchange.

" Durrek , " Gregor said.

Another of the emmense figures the one with the bull horned helm spoke up and said,

" Yes milord."

" Take the men with the honor guard and find an inn to get some rest." Gregor said, " Riak and I are to see the king."

" Yes milord." Durrek said again.

Gregor turned to Riak and said,

" That is what is supposed to happen when I give an order."

Riak shook his head and laughed,

" Do you believe I shall ever act that way."

Gregor said nothing for he truely didn't. Gregor turned to the young boy and said,

" Take us to your king boy."

The child led them through the city to the castle and into the room where the king awwaited their arrival. Now was the crucial part of the journey to have the alliance signed and to aid these people before they were wiped from the earth.

" Well met King Agron, " Gregor said, " my father has spoken on may occasions of your honor and dedication to your people as well as your prowess in battle. Yet I dare say your people are in dire need of our aid."

This being said Gregor waited for the king's responce.
************************************************************
OOC: I don't like controlling other people characters and I don't like it when they control mine...
 
OOC(Gregor and Riak's bios)

First of all I intend to lay two entirely different characters in this thread Gregor Carawan and Riak Du'Sharadan. Both are battle rager and the two commanders of the blood eagles an elite group from the ragers of everflame. Battle ragers are berzerkers who use magically enchanted mithral weapons and armor. Their armor and helms tend to make them look more like steel demons than the honorable knights they are. They armor they wear is enchanted to make them immune to heat and fire and their weapons are enchanted to strike with fire. So here goes with the bios.

Name: Gregor Carawan
Age: 27
Height: 6'5"
Weight: 256 lbs (without Armor)
Hair: Wavy long brown hair
Eyes: Deep Almond
Weapon: War-Hammer(maul, 10 pound sledge hammer)
He wore spiked steel gauntlets, open fingered, on each hand, an had similar half inch spikes protruding from his elbows and knees. He wore armor of parallel, horizontal metal ridges half an inch apart and ringing his body from neck to mid-thigh, and his arms from shoulder to forearm. His grey helmet was open-faced, with thick leather straps running under his clean shaven chin the helmet had small spikes running from the crest of the forehead all the way over and down the back of the hel each a quarter inch long

Name: Riak Du'Sharadan
Age: 27
Height: 6'3 1/2"
Weight: 244 Lbs (without Armor)
Hair: Straight Black Hair
Eyes: Midnight Blue
Weapon: Great Axe
He wore spiked steel gauntlets, open fingered, on each hand, an had similar half inch spikes protruding from his elbows and knees. He wore armor of parallel, horizontal metal ridges half an inch apart and ringing his body from neck to mid-thigh, and his arms from shoulder to forearm.
His helm resembled somewhat a skull with twisting horns off each side of it.(Similar to the bone helm from Diablo 2)

[Edited by Kalann Rathwind on 03-26-2001 at 08:21 AM]
 
Ariel stood on the wall of the castle gazing out at the lands wondering if her people were all right. She sensed somehow they were. Her Amazons were feirce fighters and would protect their home at all costs. She knew this well for she herself had trained them. Ariel's mind wandered toward the king. He had seemed so sad in the hall, she could not help but wonder what troubled him so.

She ran a hand through her hair frustrated with everything that seemed to be going on. Needing to calm down she used a trick her mother taught her and she began to sing softly. She sung an ancient amazon song of longing and hope. Her voice carried on the wind across the castle courtyard seeming to calm and soothe some of the worries of the people...



[Edited by Lady_Siren on 03-26-2001 at 12:42 PM]
 
Riak Du'Sharadan

Riak watched as Gregor and the king talked to each other he knew little and carred little of politics. Suddenly something caught his attention the sounds of a song. A song that reminded him of a group of female warriors he had encountered on a mission to the southlands in his youth. Amazons he believed they were called increadibly beautifull and terrible fierce warriors. Riak felt himself drawn twards that song and the singer. Riak took his leave of the two men and searched out the origins of that song. Finally he came to the point where the song originated a beautifull woman atop the castle walls staring out at the lands twards the setting sun.

" Tis' Beautifull don't ye think ? " he asked the woman who had apparently not noticed him arrive for being as large as he was Riak was as quiet as a mouse.
 
Ariel jumped and spun around facing the man who had just spoken. "you shouldn't sneak up on people especially at high places. And to answer your question yes it is quite beautiful" she glanced back over the land then turned back to the new arrival. " and who might you be?"
 
Riak Du'Sharadan

" I am sorry milady." he said to her, " I did not mean to frighten you so. I am Riak Du'Sharadan second in command of the Blood Eagles. Who, now that you know who I am, might you be?"
 
Rothran and Gregor in Throne Room

OOC: Nice touch with the war party, Kalann! I'll throw a friendly reminder out to you to not write yourself in TOO powerfully, although it looks like you're experienced enough not to worry about that. Also, let's be looking a little more deeply into these characters-really get a feel for them. After all, that's what roleplaying's about. Looks like our little group is starting to add some depth. I'm excited-let's keep it going!
A little note about the cities-there are actually two! Rothran is king of Klanfeld(which lays at the foot of Mount Polro)
And King Agron is in Klasckel(which lies closer to Queltrest).
Ariel is in Klanfeld, speaking with King ROTHRAN. Riak(and his boss Gregor) are with King AGRON in Klasckel. Sorry for the confusion. Maybe those Amazon love songs carry farther than we think . . .

******************************

King Agron squinted as the entourage of warriors, backlit from the setting sun outside the gates, strode powerfully into his chamber. There was definitely no mistaking these men, he thought, even from a mile away. He stood from his throne, his own armor clinking at the adjustment. His attendants stood as well, sullen expressions evident.

"Well met, Gregor Carawan, Mighty Hero of Queltrest. We bid you welcome to our fair city of Klasckel, and hope you find your surroundings appealing."

Gregor inclined his head. "Well met, King Agron. My father has spoken on many occasions of your honor and dedication to your people as well as your prowess in battle. Yet I dare say your people are in dire need of our aid."
The King huffed throuh his nose. "Dire need may not be so approprate a phrase for us, Gregor." He heard a stifled snort to his left, and made a mental note to address it. "However, my brother, King Rothran, has a kingdom that lies at the foot of Evil itself, Mount Polro. He sends word from a messenger that his city is in ruin, and he requires aid. The messenger died right where you stand."
Gregor glanced downward, noting the staff set in a base surrounded by flowers and knowing now the reason that it stood in the middle of the floor next to him. A memorial.
The King continued. "Obviously, my heart leans in the direction of my brother's kingdom, but I have people of my own to defend. If it please you, will you break bread with me tonight at my table with your men? I have found that matters of weight are more easily discussed with a goblet of wine." He tilted his head questioningly.
 
Ariel warily looked at the stranger. "I am Ariel Queen of the Amazons to the east. What business do you have at the Castle Riak Du'Sharadan?" Ariel shifted her footing as the wind lightly blew her hair.
 
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