The Crusade of Hope

[Nanami Touko]

((Incoming Wolf football!))

Amera's adrenaline was running out, like a machine running out of battery power, and her mind was shutting off again. She wasn't aware of all this, but it was happening. She met Shiris's charge with a lunge of her own, but her energy ran out, mid-lunge; her eyes going back to normal and her ears falling flat. As she blacked out, her lunge became more of a drop, and she flew straight for Shiris's legs, colliding and knocking her down, but not causing any serious injury. She was out, and not waking up anytime soon; her body and mind needed time to relax.

Edited December 6, 2010 by seph1212

[Thor Odinson]

100 gold. That's certainly more than the average mercenary... though, getting through the Yied is more important, and, well, we just came out of a war, so mercenaries are a bit low on jobs... well, it's not that much to me anyway, thought Camilla. "We have a deal, then. 100 gold pieces is fine." She said, and with a swift motion, mounting astride her horse. "Let's go," she said, and with a flick of the reins, she directed her horse to go in the direction of Rivough, and the Yied desert, her army following.

"How did you become a mercenary?" Camilla asked Estevan. She didn't want to bring up any bad memories or intrude too much, but she was curious about how he went from the son of a Cross Knight to a mercenary, and she thought that the question was neutral enough. After all, it's still a while until they get to Rivough, might as well get to know this man better.

(short post lololol)

Edited December 6, 2010 by Luminescent Blade

[Kanami]

Shiris suddenly fell back, she'd expected her opponent to charge at her, but she hadn't expected a low blow. She moved her arm forward aiming for a clean hit, but missing completely, her ball of flame helplessly flying up into the sky and withering away into smoke. So this was it, her body would be mauled to death by this rabid dog. She felt her head connect with the ground and everything went black.

.........

It didn't take long for her to come around, her world had only gone black because she'd closed her eyes bracing for the impact of her head colliding. She could taste the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. Spitting it out, she pulled herself up into a sitting position. Looking for a opening to escape.... finding none. She raised her arm to rub her temples, her head felt like it was being split open but the pain quickly transferred over to her broken arm. <Oh right, it's broken> she thought to herself as if she were observing herself in third person.

In an attempt to take her mind off the pain she looked around again, any hope of escape dying with it. She could hear a voice in her head begging for help, wanting to get away, wanting to escape from this fiery hell. And she felt her leg muscles tense as she tried to stand up, only to find a sack of potatoes weighing her down. Or was that a human figure? She couldn't really tell at first glance, her vision was getting blurry. She focused her eyes on the hazel hair, thinking it looked familiar. She'd been talking to someone earlier......"Amera" she whispered in a husky voice after racking her memory for the name of the girl. Pain filled her lungs making Shiris immediately regret opening her mouth, her throat dryer the the Yied Dessert. Shiris waited a few seconds but reached out with her good hand to cover the girls mouth and nose.

She felt sudden urge to suffocate the girl right then and there, if she was going to die she'd kill the wench who had put her in such a situation first.

But that urge quickly died away as she noticed that the girl wasn't breathing. The soot on her face being a sign of smoke inhalation. It was a wonder that Shiris too hadn't passed out yet. "Hey, wake up!" she coughed, her voice not being much louder then a whisper now. She felt her lungs being attacked by a coughing fit, trying to get the smoke out of her system, but only succeeding in forcing out as much as it drew in.

As her coughing fit receded, she smiled. She'd know she'd die in flames the day she'd taken up fire magic. Though she honestly hadn't expected her end to come so soon. She was surrounded now, fire licking at her body from all directions. Even if she were in top condition she wouldn't be getting out of this one. The smell of burning flesh filling the air around her, She could barely see the limp wolf girl now, her figure engulfed in flames. Shiris's eyes hurt from the heat and smoke but she forced them to stay open as she took in the scene around her. The last scene she'd see in this stupid world.

A stupid beautiful world of yellow red and orange. Crimson flames dancing around her merrily as if celebrating her departure from this world. Shiris reached out resting her hand on the wolf-girls head, flames transferring from Amera's head to Shiris's arm. "Unlucky, would have lived a longer happier life had you not come across me" she whispered at the dead girl. Dead without a doubt, and Shiris would join her soon enough.

She opened her mouth to say one last word, but whether anything came out, she didn't know.

[Nanami Touko]

((This is nothing in comparison to Kanami's post, but, oh well XD))

"...ey...ke..p..." A voice rang out in Amera's ears. They twitched, but she couldn't feel them, only intense heat.

What's... This? Smoke? Fire? Where am I?... Oh, right. I was... Trying to stop Shiris? I can't... remember... It's so hot right now. Amera felt a hand on her head, not opening her eyes. I'm going to die, aren't I? There's... Nothing I can do.

The warmth around her was increasing, and she could barely feel her arms. Forcing one eye to open, she found herself laying on Shiris. With what strength she had left, her arms wrapped themselves around Shiris, holding onto the last thing she had as the inferno began to swirl out of control.

Shiris had said something, and Amera heard it.

She tried to respond, but whether or not anything came out, she didn't know.

[AstraLunaSol]

Solaris and her comrades thanked King Arthur for the pleasant stay, and prepared for the last step towards Barhara. They were prepared for anything, bandits, injuries, even a lack of food. But one thing they had not expected was a thunderstorm.

Freege's Thunder Mages had shot off one too many thunder spells, and the Freege region was drenched in water. Solaris could feel the cold water hitting her face, and the muddy ground below her horse's feet was slowing their travel down. Suddenly a bolt of lightning struck a forest of trees, setting them on fire. Not only were they set on fire, but they collapsed right in front of them, effectively blocking the only way to Barhara.

"You've got to be kidding me" muttered Solaris.

It would take days to move the tree out of the way, Solaris did not even want to imagine the punishment they would receive for being late.

[Light Lord]

"Hi Damian, I know you have your own things to tend to, but if ou could spare me some minutes I would be grateful to you." replied Rafael, greeted by Damian. He then turned his head down and started getting worried.

"Damian, you seem honest enough. Do you think Oifaye choose the right person to lead this mission?" asked Rafael in s erious way, but obviously concerned by something. Rafael began explaining everything to the bishop; the main reason for his doubts, his old life in Chalphy, but mainly he continued talking about how he felt in the current assignment.

"Sorry, I think I got carried away." replied Rafael, turning to Damian and waiting for his reply.

[Acacia Sgt]

Damian only stood there as Rafael talked. 'This man is very troubled.' He thought as he heard. 'It won't be good for the troop if our leader is not stable. I must do something about it...'

After Rafael was done talking, Damian thought a little for his answer. Finally, he walked until he was next to Rafael, though facing the outside of the tent, and finally answered:

''Well sir,'' he began. ''Being a volunteer and my first time in Grandbell, I can't say I know how the minds of your superiors work. But I do know this: If you know they make good judgments in their decisions, then you more than anything should know that you being chosen is that they are confident in leaving you in charge, even if you have yet to be aware of your skill. A leader must not show doubts lest he looses face on his followers, and that would be bad, especially when our mission is as dangerious as it is.''

Here he paused a little, choosing his next words carefully. ''But, you must also be aware that no victory comes without cost. We may not all return alive, or perhaps we may all die. But you must be prepared for it, and brace for it. You must stand strong throughout.''

[Light Lord]

Rafael simply couldn't help but feel his father was talking with him from his past. He finally understood what it meant and realized how foolish his attitude was up to that moment. He also understood why the soldier took advantage of him, he surely made it clear he was doubtful of being a captain, he finally was able to talk again "You're right Damian. Everyone needs to believe a bit in themselves. Well, we gotta be ready for tomorrow. The march on the dessert will be a tough test, since we enter enemy territory. thanks again Damian, get some rest."

As he left, he felt a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He couldn't help but let go a smile and begin to believe in himself a bit more. Some more memories of his past came back that night, memories he thought long lost.

Ralph, we'll be friends forever right?

Of course we'll be Erika, I promise it.

I gotta go, my family lives in Phinora, thanks for the time Ralph!

We'll meet again Erika!

I wonder how Erika's doing. We lost contact since Alvis' rule began. She's surely fine, I have nothing to worry about.

I've got to stay calm and focused...for tomorrow we may find the truth behind all of this mess.

[Ansem]

Following Camilla's lead, he started to ride toward Rivough amongst the rest of the army. Estevan had a hard time fitting in due to the fact that most of the army was in uniform. The silver paladin was indeed the odd one out, something he resented. It would definitely be a while until they reach Rivough.

"How did you become a mercenary?" Camilla asked breaking the silence. Estevan wasn’t expecting the question. Most employers just waited for the Mercenary to die or the job to be finished. They didn’t want anything to do with the mercenary. Nevertheless, the Paladin found himself responding.

"Well, I was only 9 years old when father died. I lived in Nodion for a couple of years under the care of one of its nobles. Eventually, I had to leave, so I joined a caravan and headed to Velthomer where I was knighted. We went out on a mission and then-" Estevan stopped himself from speaking any further. The silver paladin was too ashamed.

"... I defected after a year. It just wasn’t worth the time and the effort." Estevan finished calmly taking heed of the knights behind him. "No offence to you guys." He hollered at the knights that had heard him speak. "Hey, how long it 'till we hit Rivough?" He asked Camilla.

[mr_e_s]

It was funny, if you took a moment to step back and really think about it.

It didn't seem it if you were looking too close, though. A lot of people were dying.Shit, he was in pretty bad shape himself. Still if you took a step. Well, maybe a few steps back and took a big look a twhat was going on, you could definitely see the morbid humour past the bodies. Two caravans, each from different nations, waving different flags run into each other in the middle of a forest, both taking really roundabout paths to their destinations trying to avoid conflict with each other. If either one of them had just taken the road they never would have met. But they did meet. And these two caravans of merchants, with no attachments to the military, out of fear for their lives send out their hired guards to defend them.

But they didn't have to. That's the thing. Neither side was military. Just two like-minded groups of people, trying to do business. If either side hadn't put up their mandatory flags that day, they might have just gotten along did some trading, had a party together in the forest. He could have been chatting up some foreign girls, telling them tall tales of amazing exploits, only some of which he'd been around for and none of which he'd had as big a part in as he'd have claimed. That wasn't going to happen though. he didn't think very many of them were alive any more to chat up.

Hell, when the two groups met, they could have just agreed that neither ever saw each other, and move about their lives, and they probably would have, if them meeting up in between the two caravans hadn't been interrupted by a small group of bandits looking to make a quick profit. They weren't even a threat. These were two pretty well trained guards, and this group of bandits weren't ex military or anything. Probably just locals, hitting that point of starving enough to think taking from others was the way to go. No one had to die. All we had to do was rough them up a little bit so they got the idea that this wasn't one of their better plans.

So many ways this could have gone better, so many reasons it shouldn't have played out this way. It's really amazing when you think about all the stupid little things that had to coincide for one big stupid bloodbath. All it took was one accidental poke with a spear. Or something like that. he hadn't really seen that bit. before he realized what was going on, that one little accident from one side of the guard to the other turned into a stupid argument with some shoving. Some others got involved, a punch was thrown. Still not a big deal. This one guy got socked pretty good. Some girl from the other caravan came over to check on him. She was real worried for a second, but after seeing he was alright. She went over to the guy who socked him to give him a big piece of her mind. This guy had been a shit disturber since day one with the caravan. Big talker, liked to act real tough. Well, he slapped this girl down, probably thought he was pretty cool doing it too.

Well the guy he socked before didn't think it was too cool. He threw a knife into that big bastard's arm. And that's where it really went south. That guy that just took the knife in his arm, he was seeing red now. Nobody had liked him since the day he showed up. People avoided him. But when one of your own gets attacked, popularity isn't really an issue any more. People went back to fighting, this time with weapons out. This girl tried to get out of it but she took a hard club to the face trying to run through a fight between two other guys. She would have been fine, just a little dazed. But try telling that to a girl's family. They rushed in, their merchant friends tried to join them, the other side rushed in too, and a stupid little fight turned into a free-for-all. By the end of it, people were just fighting tooth and nail about nothing. There weren't any sides. There'd been more then one fight between people flying the same flag. Pretty much everyone was down though, really badly injured or just dead.

For nothing.

Him and a couple of guys from the other side were all that was left. he was still lost in what was happening, but he wasn't about to get killed for it. He had another job offer, but he didn't take it. he had his eye on one of the girls in the caravan here. poor choice of words. Recent gaping eye wound and all. He was pretty sure it had been a rapier that punctured it. He supposed he was lucky that it hadn't kept going further. He didn't really feel lucky though. These guys didn't look great either. All three could barely stand. The difference in the fight came down to him having the heavier weapon, and when he used it, they didn't have the speed to doge or the strength to withstand. He cut them down cleanly as he could. Knowing that if he let them go, they wouldn't do the same for him.

He walked for a couple miles, just wanting to get away from it, to not see any of it any more. In a world so full of dangers it was just two groups of people in the forest killing each other because they were afraid for their lives and afraid for the lives of those they cared about. Neither side wanted this, not even just for the others. Just... fate?

As he stopped and lay against a Tree trunk, he just had to laugh at it. How stupid and unnecessary all of it was. Now that he'd had a moment to step back and think about it.

[SuperFush]

"Let's go, daddy, come on!" The man's young son pulled at his hand as they walked down the street in the brisk fall air. His term of military service had ended with little more incident than simple bandits, and he was incredibly glad to be home. The war had never managed to reach the garrison that he'd been stationed at, and the tales he heard of wars past and present from the veteran career soldiers that trained his troop left him more than glad to deal with boredom in exchange for peace. Now he was home, back with his beautiful wife and charming son, and all was well once more. In celebration of his return, the man took his son for a special treat. As luck would have it, not long after he returned, a renowned puppeteer visited their village. It was to this show that the man now took his son, who had always loved puppet shows of all sorts.

The entirety of the village had shown up for the show, it seemed, or at least all the villagers with young children. They gathered around the brightly coloured wagon, waiting in anticipation for the show to begin. Some of the less patient children had begun to fidget, but they soon stilled themselves as, with the sound of piano and horns, the wagon opened and the puppeteer walked out onto the platform. While the children surely were fascinated by her incredibly lifelike and beautiful marionettes, the various older boys and men in the crowd were no doubt more interested in the puppeteer herself. Tall and shapely, with long blond hair, and a surprising amount of skin bared for the weather, she certainly struck an imposing figure.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen! I am Lucrezia, the Marionette Mistress! Let yourselves be carried away by my dears here~" She gently stroked her hands down the faces of her marionettes, "And give yourselves to the fantasy of my show~!" With those words, she stepped back and took up the strings of her puppets, and with control granted, she made them dance. They moved so gracefully it seemed to be impossible, as though they were not wood and glass, but flesh and bone, with all the agility of the greatest of dancers. The crowd ooh'd and aah'd at the wondrous display, and erupted in furious applause as their dance finished, and both puppeteer and puppets bowed in gratitude for the display of appreciation. The crowd grew quiet once more as the beautiful puppeteer stepped back into the darkness of her wagon. Soon, a single puppet popped out of the side and made a face at the crowd. The air filled with the sound of children's laughter as the puppet comedy continued.

Despite the overall sense of wonderment, however, the former soldier couldn't shake the feeling that something was...off. The music, while beautiful, was somehow also...eerie. The puppets moved too smoothly, and it seemed impossible for one woman to be able to control all of them at once. He pushed the thoughts away, though, telling himself that he just wasn't familiar enough with the music, and that a famous puppeteer would surely have only the very best of puppets, and that some sort of clockwork mechanism could be used to control the less important puppets. Yes, surely there was an explanation for all of these unsettling thoughts. He once more turned his focus to enjoying his time together with his son.

Nearly two hours after the show began, it finally ended. the crowd stood, applauding and cheering as Lucrezia and her marionettes bowed once more, smiling. She waved and thanked the crowd for their patronage, and wished them all a good day. One man, however, standing aside, laughed rather than cheered. The puppeteer locked gazes with him, her eyes narrowing. He yelled epithets and insults at her, and her show, and even the crowd. Most ignored him, a few yelled back, but he left before any more meaningful action could be taken against him. The crowd dispersed, their pleasure at the wonderful show far too great to be affected by one single idiot. The former soldier and his child walked away, his son talking excitedly of how amazing the show and puppets were. They would spend the rest of the day together as well, before returning to their home as night began to fall, and enjoyed a delicious meal together with his wife, her mother, and finally, the man set his son to bed.

They woke in the night to a horrific sound - yells and crackling flames. Not merely yells of urgency, though - these were screams of utter terror. The man jumped out of his bed and reached underneath it, pulling out the sword that he had brought back with him from his service. He picked up his son and pushed him into his wife's arms. They left their house - not yet touched by the roaring flames - only to witness a sight more horrific than they had imagined.

Their peaceful village had become a battlefield, but it was no mundane foe they fought. The streets and fields teamed with independently moving dolls, puppets and marionettes, wielding knives, wickedly curved blades and mundane object like scissors and hammers - objects that could easily be perverted to implements of death rather than tools of creation. The man turned to his wife and told her to run, far way from the village, and not to look back. She nodded, terrified, and he turned to the burning village, intent to save as many of his friends as he could, and to create a diversion great enough for his family to escape without notice.

It was difficult and horrifying. Many of the puppets, small though they were, seemed possessed of strength as great as a full-grown man, while others...the marionettes especially, bled when cut. This was simply not natural. He fought and struggled, and many of the villagers were able to escape thanks to his efforts, but he was gradually worn down. Rather than simply butcher him as they had many others, however, the puppets and dolls restrained him, and brought him to the village green, where the puppeteer's wagon still stood, untouched amidst the blaze. Standing on the platform, still dressed in her beautiful dress, was Lucrezia, and before her, kneeling and restrained by puppeteer's strings, was the man who had insulted her work. Her previously beautiful face was twisted into a terrible visage of anger. However, she calmed herself and instead focused her gaze on the former soldier.

"Ah, you are the man who fought so valiantly against my dears, are you not~? Such skill! Such bravery! A man such as you is too precious to waste, therefore..." She reach out her hand, and strings floated around the man's arms, legs and neck, burrowing into his skin. He tried to speak, but no words would come. He tried to escape, but his limbs made no movements. Lucrezia giggled. "Stand, my pretty~"

She rose her hand, and with her motion, so too rose the former soldier. His body no longer belonged to him - he was but another marionette. Jerkily at first, but more smoothly as his mistress solidified her control over him, he stood and drew his dagger. With every motion, his mind screamed for him to stop, but he continued nonetheless, helpless in her power. He approached the restrained man, who looked to him with terrified, remorseful eyes.

"Now, my darling...cut out his tongue~" The former soldier's hand shot out, grabbed the restrained man's jaw, and with unnatural strength forced it open. Slowly, he inserted the blade into the man's mouth, and with careful movements, dragged the blade through the heckler's tongue. His screams seared the former soldier's soul, but no power he possessed could allow him to stop. Finished, the pulled the severed member out of the man's bloody mouth and presented it to his mistress.

"Ah, wonderful, much better~ Perhaps he will think twice before insulted a poor performer next time! Ahahaha~!" Lucrezia threw her hands into the air with glee, her insane laughter echoing over the empty village. The former soldier tried to force himself to move, to kill the beautiful demon that had deceived them with her wondrous tools, but it was useless. He could never be free of her again.

[CATS]

"Heh, not bad. Not nearly good enough, though."

"... Quite."

The two men stood facing each other, the one holding his bleeding hand, the other holding a blood-stained saber. They stared.

"So this is it, then? It was not enough to just exile me, the marquess has now sent an assassin, too?"

"Well, I don't know about assassin. I'd call myself more of a general wetworks man. Not that it matters to you, of course. Anyways, yep, marquess sent me. What, you thought you could steal and raid without any sort of a response? 'Course he sent me. Gotta say, you earned this.... no booby traps around the house, no swinging sharp object to impale me when I came through the door? It's like you thought no one would ever come for you. Downright stupid, really."

"It's true, I thought the marquess would summon his soldiers and set off on a sweep through the forest, searching for my hideaway in force. I expected to hear them coming a mile away, evade them with ease, taunt them, harass them, send them back to the town whispering in fear of me, and in so doing increase my reputation all the more. I never once imagined that the marquess might send, not an army, but rather one man, one man like myself, more skilled than myself. A single man to do what an army surely could not have. I suppose you are right, I have been an arrogant fool, haven't I? I was so caught up in my own fantasies of how I wanted things to play out, I couldn't see how they actually would....."

"And you won't have a chance to learn from that mistake. Shame, ain't it? That's the thing about this business, one of the reasons I like it. Not many prideful, self-important bastards in it. You get cocky doing this, get just a little bit comfortable, you're gone forever, just like that."

"Indeed. Do you even know why you're supposed to kill me?"

"Nope, not really. I mean, the marquess said you'd been stealing and raiding, sure, but there's always another side to it, isn't there? Guess you could fill me in before I do the deed, if you'd like."

"Steal and raid I have, but that's not the real issue here. I've stolen from only the marquess's supporters, I've raided only his own food stores, and whatever I've had left over after feeding myself, I've given to the townspeople. They see me as a hero, a symbol of resistance to the marquess's oppressive rule. Did you know that? Did you even stop and talk to any of them before you came here?"

"Course not. What do you think I am, a knight errant wandering the land, winning the hearts of beautiful damsels and righting the wrongs of the world? Look at me."

"So that's it then, you're a careless killer, are you? A sellsword through and through? I see. How can you live as such a man? I'm not just doing this out of a sense of idealistic self-righteousness, you know. It is my only option. The marquess had me exiled and blacklisted for speaking out against him. I can't get a job. I can't live in any of the towns. Guards are ordered to kill me on sight. This isn't something I've chosen; it is the only way I can put food into my mouth. And still, knowing that, you are going to kill me. I can see it in your eyes. How can you live with yourself--how do you look into the mirror without an overwhelming sense of shame and guilt?"

"I see. You don't like doing this, it's just that you have to do, eh? Well, guess who's going hungry tonight if you're still alive when he walks back into town? There's good reason for someone like you to speak out--soldiers, peasants, they don't get shit for pay, do they? Nah, they don't. Not much better than slaves, are they? That's the thing, if you're not a noble around here, there's only one way to make a livable wage. Why don't I join forces with you and shine light and justice on the world and change that, though, that's what you're wondering. I could try, sure, but then there'd be someone else like me coming for the both of us, and even if we killed him, there'd be another one after that, and then another, and another.... see what I'm getting at here? Oh, and mirrors? Don't get me wrong, I avoid 'em like the plague."

"Very well, then I--aggh!"

[Light Lord]

After resting in Velthomer, Ralh began moving the squad to the Yied Dessert, heading towards the Yied Shrine. With a new resolution in mind, he couldn't wait any longer to uncover what the Lopt Sect was planning if there were any remnants of the sect. Not only that, but with the menace of soldiers that were still loyal to the 12 Dark Warlords and Yurius' reign, the road ahead proved to be a risk to the group.

As the day kept going and the volunteer squad kept pushing forward, they noticed some commotion in a hidden cave in the desert. Doubtful of what to do, Ralph resolved to move onwards to the shrine, feeling regrets and remembering once again his father.

Son, sooner or later you'll understand the code of knighthood is a rough one. You must begin to understand that our job is to defend our lords and the kingdom.

But, what if I must choose between how I am or my knight code?

You'll understand when you face such a situation. Just trust your heart and you'll make no mistake.

Ralph suddenly stopped, turning around towards the cave's direction. The other volunteers suddenly stopped, wondering what the captain was going to do. He turned and readied his sword "Comrades, I understand that our mission is to find any leads on those who still follow Yurius, but as knight or volunteers we must help those in need." he then pointed to the cave and continued "Something's going on there, possibly it has to do with the remnants or the loptians, I don't know. But I can't move without lifting a finger when somebody else is in troubles."

Edited December 12, 2010 by Light Lord

[rn7]

There is nothing worse than winning a battle then losing a war. There will be people who tell you otherwise. If you ever meet those people, please tell them how full of it they are, and promptly apply your foot to their behinds. As I sit here, trapped in some godforsaken cave with my comrades, I cannot help but think about all the times I've won my piece only to be let down in the end.

Most people know of the Holy War. Two sides, Celice's Liberation Army, and the Lopt forces. I was on the Lopt side. Was it by choice? Yes. Did I kill innocents? Yes. Was I just following orders? Yes. Am I a despicable, irredeemable monster? You tell me after you've seen that blackened army march into your town and offer you a bag of gold in one hand and the head of a dissenter in the other hand. I was a soldier, through and through. My place was not to discuss morals or ethnics, to follow codes or laws, to save the world or dominate it. I was to follow orders.

Up to the very end of the war, I followed orders. I was head of my own regiment, fighting far off in the eastern front, many days from the capital. The two sides had been faced with a bitter stalemate for weeks, to the point that many more were dying to exhaustion and sickness than to combat. As captain, I felt that I had to spare my men that. In a great glorious charge, I lead my men over the contested hill, through hails of falling rocks and arrows, past waves of stampeding cavalry, and into the enemy's base. Soldier and civilian we killed alike, for we could take no chances. We forced the Liberation Army back, the cowards hastily retreating from our grand fury.

And yet, the very next day, a messenger came, with a letter from the capital. Just as we were about to click our mugs together to celebrate, he had informed us that Celice had already won, and the war had ended a week ago. A army with numbers only half strong as ours came into our captured base, and forced us to surrender. What could we have done instead? Fought back, and incur the wrath of the main liberation army, perhaps even Lord Celice himself? I am not a fool, I know when I have lost. And that day, we won the battle and lost the war.

The very same situation has come to me today. An army of camel riders, draped in that mystifying cloth, came upon my unit as we were crossing the desert. Using the sandstorm as cover, the riders charged down my soldiers, slowing picking away at us. We were forced to fall back into a cave, deep within the desert, and from there we struck back. We spared no mercy for our attackers, making sure they knew full well of the mistake they had made in attacking us. Upon their chests and draped across their camels were a banner with an oddly familiar symbol. We drowned those symbols with their own blood.

And when there was but two left, the camel riders made their way out. But not without taking us with them. An explosion rocked the area, and the mouth of the cave began to collapse. Stuck within the cave with no way out, I began to wonder why it was I bothered to fight in battles if the tides of wars always washed me upon the shores of defeat.

---

To any and all soldiers of the Lord Celice's army

This is Captian Ezekiel of 121st. We have engaged in battle with enemy combatants and have succeeded in their termination. However, an explosion has entrapped us within the confines of a desert cave. Though unharmed, our food and water supplies have begun to run out. If you have any men to spare, I request immediate aid to our location.

Zeke unwrapped a patch of bandages around his arm and soaked a rubber stamp with his blood. He then imprinted the official army seal upon the letter, rolled it up, and attached it to an arrow. He gave the arrow to one of the archers in his unit, who then proceeded to shoot out the letter through a crack in the collapsed cave. It was a noisemaker arrow, designed to attract anyone nearby. A long shot, but there was not much else he could do. Sighing, Zeke reached into his satchel and got out a cigarette and lighter. Propping the cigarette into his mouth with one hand and flicking the lighter with his other, Zeke attempted to take the edge off by taking a drag. No good. His lighter wasn't being cooperative today. Might be the sand.

"Light, sir?" A hand came from the darkness and snapped its fingers, and in the next instance a flame lit up the area. Zeke leaned over and lit up his cigarette.

"Damn, you fire mages are actually useful for once," Zeke mused, while blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"Well, sir, with all due respect, go stick your face in a pile of camel waste." The fire mage smiled, snapping off his finger fire.

"Heh. I'll be sure to try it if we get out of here." Zeke stared out into the open hole, wondering just when someone would show up, if anybody at all.

[Light Lord]

As the group began approaching the cave, they spotted an enemy unit reaching them from behind. Ralph didn't cared in the beginning, since he realized most of them were riders and the sand already began delaying their progress completely, not to mention he was sure his group could take care of them easily if a battle was to take place there. However, moments later he managed to see who was leading the group, he thought his eyes were deceiving him, that he was dreaming.

Leading the riders, was none other than one of Ralph's old friends, Bolder once known as the Great Axe of the Grauen Ritter when Dannan was in charge of Dozel. He was one of Ralph's best friends in the years before Emperor Alvis, but as soon as he fled Chalphy most of his ties with friends had to be broken abruptly. Ralph commande his group to reach the cave as soon as possible, if they were to put a fight against the Graun Ritter's last hope a place where sand was in their advantage could prove to be useful for them.

Ralph and his squad finally reached the cave, noticing there was a slide in the cave, blocking its entrance.

"Cool work captain, a dead end." said a mercenary "How are we going to get out of this mess?"

Ralph began looking into the cave's blocked entrance and noticed an open in it "Maybe if we stick this in here..." said Ralph, as he took his sheathed sword and used it as a lever, breaking down the rocks and opening the cave once again.

Inside of it, he noticed a few soldiers, apparently waiting for someone to find them. He looked at them and noticed they were sent from the capital, when and for what he ignored, yet he needed some help for the upcoming battle.

"Hello there soldiers; well, we need some volunteers to fight the Graun Ritter's remnants that are in pursuit of us." said Rafael pointing to his back, where the riders where "Anyone that is in the mood for a fight, take a step forward and get ready, we'll set them a trap to finish the enemy once and for all."

[rn7]

"Sir Damian, was it?" Zeke stood up, stomped out his smoke, and saluted his rescuer in a robotic fashion. His armor was the most apparently thing about him. Faded to a dull grey, scuffed and scratched beyond imagination, and yet still giving off a sense of strength. An equally worn helmet completely covered his head, save for a small gap where the mouth was/ A faded Lopt symbol was displayed on the chestplate, halfheartedly scratched out. Zeke continued to speak. "I have an idea, sir."

Zeke got out a machete and began hacking away at a corpse, taking the head off of the body. He then put the head on a spit, and propped the spit at the entrance to the cave.

"Sticking their dead comrades heads like this will enrage them, luring them to this cave. There we can do one of two things: collapse the cave again, or ambush them. If we cave them in, we can avoid any causalities. We loose access to the cave, though. There are valuable minerals in this cave-- if you believe it worth it, we would better fight. An order is an order either way, I'm not here to stroke your ego."

The nearing clopping sounds were a clear indication of the nearing forces.

"Choose quickly, Commander," Zeke said coldly as his grip on his hammer tightened.

[mr_e_s]

"Hey man, mind if I ask you which way the capitol is?" The soldier stopped in his tracks, a little taken aback at the casual way in which a civilian had just addressed him. Being a soldier garnered some respect, and even though he didn't expect a civilian to know what the markings on his shoulder meant, they still indicated he was a petty officer, not one of the mucky mucks, but high enough up that the new recruits had to call him sir and give up their chairs in a full restaurant for him, all those little benefits. He didn't particularly care for being called 'man', especially in front of his men, even if there were only three men serving under him currently.

Maybe it wasn't the manner in which he was being addressed so much as the man addressing him. He had a look about him, like he didn't respect anything, like he thought authority existed to be rebelled against. He looked disheveled. Homeless, maybe. The kinda guy that would be turned away if he applied. The soldier briefly considered just disregarding the urchin, but opted instead to demand his respect, to show his men that he would demand it from them as well. "I am a petty officer of the national army! You are not to address me in such a colloquial fashion, peasant!" He gave the bum a quick boot to the stomach to emphasize the point. Far from the expected reaction though, the miscreant just started laughing.

"Soldiers, huh?" He called out from the ground, after they had tired of watching him chuckle and began to continue about their important business. "Heh, I used to be a soldier of sorts. A while ago. I was kind of the runt of the bunch. Got made fun of a lot, wasn't man enough to hang out with the big boys, all that." His audience barely stopped to take note of his ramble before continuing on their way, considering him a lost cause. They kept going to the end of the street, and walked down another, letting his voice drown out in the small bustle of the tiny community.

...and drown back in as they walked past him again. Against a different building. "Army's gone now though, lost our head, kinda fell apart. I've kinda been moping around ever since. For a long time now..." He had their attention now. He was in the exact same position, like he never moved, but he'd gotten there ahead of them somehow, and they'd been walking in almost a straight line. "kinda miss all those guys, even though they didn't care for me much. We were kind of a family, you know? You guys'll love this though, the other day, I got the call back. I'm going to have a family again! It might be a bit smaller, and even more dysfunctional, but less alone, you know?" The three privates had stopped to listen, but were beckoned forth by their commander, who was determined not to be impressed either by the homeless man's quick reappearance, or the fact that he was juggling while lying down against a wall.

As they entered their little outpost barracks, currently occupied only by them, they realized that same man was lying on one of their beds, and now he was juggling knives instead of balls. This couldn't be ignored any longer. "You! Get out of here!" The commander barked as authoritatively as he could muster, trying his best to conceal the fact that this man had gone from a mild annoyance to genuinely unnerving in record time. "This is official government property and if you continue to trespass in here I will not hesitate to have you arrested and thrown in the stockades."

Now the man on the bed gave a deep smile "You and what family?" The commander turned around, and stumbled back onto the bed beside the bum. His men all had stab wounds in their necks, but not knife or anything. Two were already dead, one was silently clutching at his throat in a futile effort to stop the bleeding. The juggler stood up casually now, as though he were walking through the motions of something he'd planned out since before he'd met these guys, though in reality, there was no plan here, just a whim. "So, man, which way is it to the capital from here? I'm a little lost, you see, and I'd hate to keep my new family waiting."

It took a minute, at first there was nothing resembling a reaction, then some stammering, finally a weak pointing westward. Seemingly satisfied, the murderer got up and walked out the door, but not before turning around and commenting "I'm going to leave you, maybe after what happens next, you can be all alone like I was. Then we'll see how rude you are."

As he looked around the streets, feeling somewhat invigorated by his badass moment, he wondered vaguely how he could get to the capitol. Then he facepalmed.

While looking out at the capital city he thought to himself I forgot I could do that.

[Light Lord]

Ralph understood the risk of losing said minerals, but also the chance of having a lot of casualties, fighting in the cave. A bit unease about it, Ralph decided to ambush them within the cave; he ordered his men to help get everything ready to strike down Bolder and his troops. HE then turned to Zeke and told him to wait for his signal for the final assault within the cave.

Bolder finally arrived with his troops to the cave's entrance, he then saw the heads of his comrades recruited some time ago. Most of his troops began to termble in fear, while the others were angered as they could be. "Soldiers, for our fallen comrades, we MUST defeat the squad sent by Celice! That way they'll understand the Lopt Empire still lives on!" he then lifted his axe and pointed to the cave "CHAAAAAARGEEEEEEEE!" Bolder and his troops began riding to the cave, looking in the darkness for any enemy around there. Most of them were unaware of their surroundings, just looking for any movement in the dark cave.

Ralph began moving a bit and finally unsheathed his sword and then shouted "It's time to attack them now!" as his group began striking down a few of the axe knights in their way, while Ralph was readying to fight Bolder himself.

"Long time no see Bolder, how you doin'?" asked Ralph as he was moving against Bolder, while Boilder's squad was fighting with the enemies in front of them.

"So you're still alive Ralph, eh?" he then took his axe preparing to fight "It's about time I teach you who's the best around here."

Ralph turned to the cave, noticing Bolder took him out of it and the fight inside was still raging on "Do your worst then!"

Bolder placed on his helmet and rushed to face Ralph; in the conditions they were it appeared as if Ralph had the advantage with his sword. However, Bolder blocked easily his attacks, having trained under none other than Lord Burian himself. Ralph could only defend himself as the knight was striking him down with his axe, until Bolder threw him to the ground. "Well Ralph, it seems you're still number two." he then readied his axe for the final blow "Let's put an end to this!"

Ralph avoided the attack, rolling in the sand and readying his sword once again "I'm sorry Bolder, but I must fulfill my duty." he then rushed towards Bolder, only the sound of metal crashing was heard.

[rn7]

"Hold, crew. Let the commander and his unit... 'parley' with the enemy." Zeke ordered his soldiers. "The enemy is mounted, and known for dividing and conquering. Let them come to us-- assume shell formation. Private Mariner, take the center."

The fire mage confirmed the order aloud and took position in the middle of the shell of soldiers. The soldiers were lined up as close as possible to each other, each of their shields protecting another man. A camel rider charged into the shell with a thrusting sabre strike, skimming across the shield and nearly knocking them back. They were clearly not only skilled combatants, but strong, their power amplified from the use of their camels. Still, the power of a camel paled in comparison to that of a horse. Camels were breed more for endurance rather than aggression.

"On my call, light it up, Mariner." Zeke calmly ordered as a squadron of camel riders began circling around the shell formation, looking for an opportunity to strike. Any weakness at all would be punished seven times over. These camel riders knew nothing of mercy nor restraint. Suddenly, the opportunity presented itself. A shield shifted just barely, perhaps a soldier with an itch moving to scratch, but that was just enough. All seven camel riders closed in on the small opening.

"Call," Zeke uttered in his usual cold manner. The Fire Mage Mariner did not hesitate for a second, thrusting both his arms up into the air, and snapped his fingers, letting loose a bright light. As if that light were a spark that lit a fuse, Zeke's soldiers left formation and struck out, all in unison.

Zeke bashed the leg of the camel in front of him, his hammer striking true on the beast's leg. But the endurance of the camel held-- the leg did not break or yield. However, it was enough to surprise the camel, and force it to thrust off its rider, and run off scared. Zeke stood tall over his opponent, who was still recovering from being kicked off of his mount.

"Desert clothes are thin and minimal due to the harshness of the climate," commented Zeke. "It is unfortunate. For if you were wearing true armor, you would be walking away from here with only two broken ribs, instead of all of them."

Zeke brought down his hammer on the camel rider's chest. True to his word, Zeke completely crushed the man's ribcage, slamming with such force that one could see the rider's lung protrude out of his mouth.

"Fall back!" Zeke ordered his men, and they complied immediately. The unit fell back into formation, and Zeke assessed the situation. From the looks of it, three were dead. That left four to deal with, and without the element of surprise like before, Zeke wondered just how it was that he was going to deal with them.

Edited December 13, 2010 by rn7

[Joerachi]

((SORRYSORRYSORRY FOR LATE.))

"You're serious? You seriously want us to fight the Lopt. Sec?"

"We apologize for any inconvenience this causes. We know you're still recovering from Thracia's assaults and all."

"You want us to fight one of the most dangerous enemies of the general public, enemies that have advantages over our weaponry, and enemies that have something to accomplish, and all you have to say is sorry?"

"Sir, don't talk to King Celice like tha-" The soldier who spoke was cut off by Celice as he said,

"You feel strongly about this. Is there a problem you're not telling us about?

"! I-I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You don't have to tell us, but I know there is something you're hiding."

"Heh Heh. Thank you for that at least. Your Aura is... Pure. You seem reliable."

"W-What?"

"...Oh, sorry. Something I do every now and again. Anyway, I suppose given the situation, I guess I cou--"

"Captain Joseph, Emergency! You're required in the Lenster region!"

"...That figures."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"HOW COULD YOU NOT FIND THAT SWORD!?! WE BURNED DOWN THAT DAMNED VILLAGE ALMOST 10 YEARS AGO, AND YOU STILL HAVEN'T FOUND THAT SWORD!" A king from a neighboring castle screams at his subordinates.

"Milord, perhaps it was destroyed?"

"Impossible. The greatest warriors in the region forged it themselves. It's rumored to contain a fell wind of hellfire. A village fire can't simply destroy it like that."

"Perhaps someone took it."

"Actually, while combating Lenster, someone was using a sword similar to that of which you described. It wasn't an ordinary Fire Sword. I saw the same person heading into Yied. Rumor has it Barhara is gather high caliber men."

"Oh, really now. I think I know how to lure him out then..."

--------------------------

"Geez, I have to get across this stupid desert again..." Joey was plodding along the Yied and saw a platoon of men.

"The he is! That's him. Kill him!"

"Hmm? Now, Now, I'm sure I'm not who you're looking for. What makes you think I'm you're bounty?"

"A famed General was rumored to head for the Yied in the Grandbellian direction! You look a little similar to said general."

"And? I'm heading away from Grandbell. Surely this contradicts you're suspicions." Joey knew he had to con his way out. What were they looking for?

"Oh. I'm sorry then. The rumor must not be true."

"Must be..." Joey sly-ly went on by to Lenster, but as he walked by he tripped and dropped the Flamberge.

"Wait, that's it! You are the General! Seize him!"

"Ha! So you think any way to approach me is a good idea? Look at the situation you're in. I can run back to Barhara, and get reinforcements. If I run to Lenster, I can get my platoon to defeat you if I corner you, you'll run back to you're castle, and I'll know your affiliation, and you can say goodbye to your army. And if you fight, You'll surely die. How did you plan to seize me, exactly?" He grinned rather confidently with a victorious tone to his voice.

"N-No! R-R-Retreat!"

--------------------------------

Joey found his way back to Lenster, in Prince Leaf's presence.

"What's the problem?" Joey sounded really annoyed being called back to Lenster.

"I think you remember how your village was---

"Why is this important?"

"We know why it happened."

"!"

"A castle not too far from here wanted something from your village. Based on spy reports, we know what they wanted. Your parents were renowned fighters and their personal weapons were forged together."

"Yeah, the Flamberge.It's my last and only memento of them..."

"Well they wanted that."

"...I could only imagine why. I think this might have to do with the soldiers that attacked me in Yied."

"Well in any case, we think you're entitled to this mission."

"...Alright."

Edited December 27, 2010 by Joerachi