Post by thedarkone on Jul 20, 2021 14:30:40 GMT
Arthur's footsteps echoed through the upper levels of Karuzgard, the dark stone illuminated by iron sconces embedded in the walls as he hurried his way down one of the spiral staircases towards the Great Hall. The sounds of battle rose to met him, and as he arrived on the balcony overlooking the Great Hall, he could look down to see his brothers and sisters-in-arms training, each one of them locked in combat with one another while under the watchful eye of their Bladesinger trainers. From the sidelines some of the Shieldbearers were cheering them on, betting on some of the fights with one another.
Cursing under his breath, Arthur continued on with his task. He should be down there with them, but Ravenmaster Wirrel had seen fit to request Arthur's personal service. Now while his brothers and sisters were sent on excursions out into the Forsaken Lands, he was babysitting ravens and running messages. Making his way along the balcony to the far end of the hall, he moved to knock on the door but halted when he heard the Grandmaster speaking with someone.
"-reports coming in continue to worry me Vincent. 6 years since we last saw the orcs at our walls, no sightings for 20 miles." He heard Victarion say, his voice deep and powerful even while conveying his worries.
"Better to not look a gift horse in the mouth." Came a polite, dignified response. Likely it came from Vincent, the fortresses' chief physician. The man always gave Arthur the creeps "For the last 6 years we have managed to increase our numbers greatly with no losses from battle. When the orcs do return, they will find our battlements full once more."
"Prehaps you are right old friend. Still I feel uneasy about this false peace, unprecedented. Our newest recruits have barely seen combat against our foe, and without the hordes to convince them of their duty, many might choose-"
"It would seem our conversation is no longer private." Vincent interjected. Before Arthur could react, the door was wrenched open, the tall pale figure of Vincent greeting him. Clad in his Vigilant armour with the addition of dark robes that covered most of his face in shadow, long wisps of silver hair hung down around his gaunt face. It was the eyes however that felt like they were boring into his soul, a dull light red that seemed to shine every so slightly. Frozen in place, Arthur didn't say a word. "It's Wirrel's boy, Arthur I believe." Vincent said, noticing the scroll in his hand and stepping aside to let him pass.
Edging past him ever so carefully, he entered into the Grandmasters quarters. More wide than long, the room was dominated by a map of the Heartlands carved into the stone itself, up to and including Karuzgard and the Encirling Mountains. A fireplace lay off to the side, the sound of the crackling flames cutting through the silence. On the other side of the room were some of the Grandmasters personal effects and his bed, including his the sword of the Vigilant, a gift to the first Grandmaster from the High King of the Dwarves many years ago. Directly in front of him on the other side of the map, was Victarion himself, seated behind a long desk of dwarven make, the chair itself a throne that rose up to tower over the room, dwarven runes carved into it. Light streamed in from behind him, the open balcony facing out towards the Heartlands. "Speak." Victarion ordered. While the man was showing his age, his short cut hair and beard snow white, Victarion still emanated power. While in battle he would wear the same armour as the Shieldbearers and Bladesingers to show that although he led them, he was still one of them, buy now he was draped in simple attire with a black cotton shirt tucked into his trousers, a black bear skin hung around his shoulders. "Master Wirrel said to bring this to you urgently." Arthur managed to blurt out, not without having to clear his throat first. Making his way around the map, he placed it onto Victarion's desk before slowly backing away.
"He also spotted a scouting party returning from from Wilds. They will be here shortly." He added as Victarion opened up the scroll, casting his eyes over the report. Vincent had closed the door and joined them now, although he made sure to keep well away from the daylight, Arthur catching a glance at the physician staring at him. When he was finished reading, Victarion handed the scroll back to Arthur. Before he could speak, a horn sounded out throughout the Halls of Karuzgard, deep and booming. "It would appear Galland has returned with some new recruits" the vampire muttered as Victarion made his way out towards the balcony, using his twisted iron cane to move due to his injured leg. Looking out down the road, a small group of people approached from the south, as the gates below them opened slowly, the ancient dwarven gears groaning under the strain of moving the huge slabs of stone.
"Very well. You are dismissed Arthur. Inform Wirrel to send the expedition leader to my quarters when they arrive." Victarion commanded, making his way back in through the balcony. "Let us go meet our new Initiates."
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The journey was long and uncomfortable, clearly the Bladesingers didn't like to travel in style. A few bumps and rocks on the road had woken Faris up from his rest, shaking the prison cart so much that he had banged his head off the iron bars. "Ow." He complained, rubbing the tender spot on his head. They were moving through a forest now, the sunlight above struggling to cut through the thick canopy of leaves. Their company wasn't large, himself and a handful of criminals stuffed into the cage while being pulled by two powerful farm horses. The few 'down on their luck' souls that had willingly joined followed the cart either by foot or on horseback, while the Bladesinger himself sat on the front of the cart, his feet propped up on the kickboard. The man wasn't much to look at, his armour shabby and his cloak more well worn than even his, but if the stoies from his youth were true, Faris was looking at one of the most deadly warriors in the world. Stretching out carefully so as not to disturb any of his companions, Faris yawned loudly before speaking up. "Where are we now? Last I saw we were passing Helmgard."
"We, are nearly there." Gallant replied. A man of few words, the two of them had been travelling alongside each other for almost two months now, one of the first recruits picked up from the south. They had talked every now and again to pass the time, and although he didn't say much, Gallant was always willing to answer questions about the order and treated everyone the same. From the nobles to the commoners, he had treated them all with respect and manners. "That would make this...Herklion Forest. By the gods, did you ride all through the night?" Faris said in disbelief. As far as he knew, the man hadn't slept in three days at this stage. Gallant simply nodded, their journey continuing.
"Fuck sake." Came a voice from behind him, one of the others waking up now. He had only been picked up in the last week, and hadn't gotten used to their style of life on the road. "If I knew how uncomfortable it would be, I'd have stayed in the fucking prisons."
"I'm with you brother, I was expecting luxury blankets and food. Prehaps more of a carriage than a cart." Faris joked, watching Gallant as he reached down past his sword and shield to grab two bread rolls from a burlap sack. Tossing both to the two of them through the bars, they both caught them and tucked in. They were slightly stale, but beggers can't be choosers and anything would have satisfied his rumbling stomach. Keeping their voices low as whispers to not wake anyone, the two of them chatted with one another. The man was called Thomas, and over the last week or so he found out he had been imprisoned for stealing cattle from the local noble. Rather than lose a hand, when Gallant passed through he joined up with the Vigilant.
"Eyes up, we've arrived." Gallant said, disrupting the conversation and waking up some of the others. Shuffling around, Faris turned his head to the sight emerging through through trees. The Encircling Mountains were massive, a wall of steep cliffs and peaks so high that snow began to fall before they pierced the clouds. Below that was the gates of Karugard. Standing around 50 to 60 feet tall, an ornate design of runes were carved into the doors while on either side of them was a depiction of a dwarf warrior, both heavily armoured with one wielding a hammer and the other a battleaxe, holding up the rocks above lit by two mammoth braziers whose fires never burnt out, a secret of the dwarves. Faris stood in awe, he had travelled all over with his mercenary company but nothing compared to this. This gateway ran through the entire mountain to the gate on the other side, the one that kept out the beasts of the Forsaken Lands. Meanwhile hundreds of tunnels and rooms carved out of sheer rock provided ample space for the Order.
"Welcome to your new home." Gallant said, breaking the silence all of them fell into under the shadow of the fortress. As they approached, a horn sounded out while the doors opened up of their own accord, slowly peeping back to allow them access to the inside of the fortress. Looking up, Faris spotted a man watching them approach from a balcony above, until he disappeared out of sight as they got even closer. As soon as they were inside, the doors sprang to life once more, closing slowly before shutting out the light of day. The Great Hall was another feat of engineering, and Faris couldn't help but wonder how the race who built it managed. It ran on for so long that he could barely see the far end, lit by metal chandeliers that hung from above, filled with the same magical fire the dwarves had used with the brazier. Several floors lay above, with balconies in place to give line of sight down into the hall. Mammoth granite pillars held up the ceiling, placed at either side of the hall from which hung banners depicting the orders banner; a crowned sword placed between two mountains. Their arrival had already gathered some attention from the other brothers and sisters, who watched as Gallant brought the horses to a halt.
"Brother!" Came a shout from the crowd. A woman stepped forward, clad in heavy armour with a small axe at her waist. Gallant disembarked with a grin and the two embraced. "How was the trip to the south?"
"Long, dull but productive" He answered, heading around to the back of the cart to unlock their gate, allowing them to step out into their new home.
Cursing under his breath, Arthur continued on with his task. He should be down there with them, but Ravenmaster Wirrel had seen fit to request Arthur's personal service. Now while his brothers and sisters were sent on excursions out into the Forsaken Lands, he was babysitting ravens and running messages. Making his way along the balcony to the far end of the hall, he moved to knock on the door but halted when he heard the Grandmaster speaking with someone.
"-reports coming in continue to worry me Vincent. 6 years since we last saw the orcs at our walls, no sightings for 20 miles." He heard Victarion say, his voice deep and powerful even while conveying his worries.
"Better to not look a gift horse in the mouth." Came a polite, dignified response. Likely it came from Vincent, the fortresses' chief physician. The man always gave Arthur the creeps "For the last 6 years we have managed to increase our numbers greatly with no losses from battle. When the orcs do return, they will find our battlements full once more."
"Prehaps you are right old friend. Still I feel uneasy about this false peace, unprecedented. Our newest recruits have barely seen combat against our foe, and without the hordes to convince them of their duty, many might choose-"
"It would seem our conversation is no longer private." Vincent interjected. Before Arthur could react, the door was wrenched open, the tall pale figure of Vincent greeting him. Clad in his Vigilant armour with the addition of dark robes that covered most of his face in shadow, long wisps of silver hair hung down around his gaunt face. It was the eyes however that felt like they were boring into his soul, a dull light red that seemed to shine every so slightly. Frozen in place, Arthur didn't say a word. "It's Wirrel's boy, Arthur I believe." Vincent said, noticing the scroll in his hand and stepping aside to let him pass.
Edging past him ever so carefully, he entered into the Grandmasters quarters. More wide than long, the room was dominated by a map of the Heartlands carved into the stone itself, up to and including Karuzgard and the Encirling Mountains. A fireplace lay off to the side, the sound of the crackling flames cutting through the silence. On the other side of the room were some of the Grandmasters personal effects and his bed, including his the sword of the Vigilant, a gift to the first Grandmaster from the High King of the Dwarves many years ago. Directly in front of him on the other side of the map, was Victarion himself, seated behind a long desk of dwarven make, the chair itself a throne that rose up to tower over the room, dwarven runes carved into it. Light streamed in from behind him, the open balcony facing out towards the Heartlands. "Speak." Victarion ordered. While the man was showing his age, his short cut hair and beard snow white, Victarion still emanated power. While in battle he would wear the same armour as the Shieldbearers and Bladesingers to show that although he led them, he was still one of them, buy now he was draped in simple attire with a black cotton shirt tucked into his trousers, a black bear skin hung around his shoulders. "Master Wirrel said to bring this to you urgently." Arthur managed to blurt out, not without having to clear his throat first. Making his way around the map, he placed it onto Victarion's desk before slowly backing away.
"He also spotted a scouting party returning from from Wilds. They will be here shortly." He added as Victarion opened up the scroll, casting his eyes over the report. Vincent had closed the door and joined them now, although he made sure to keep well away from the daylight, Arthur catching a glance at the physician staring at him. When he was finished reading, Victarion handed the scroll back to Arthur. Before he could speak, a horn sounded out throughout the Halls of Karuzgard, deep and booming. "It would appear Galland has returned with some new recruits" the vampire muttered as Victarion made his way out towards the balcony, using his twisted iron cane to move due to his injured leg. Looking out down the road, a small group of people approached from the south, as the gates below them opened slowly, the ancient dwarven gears groaning under the strain of moving the huge slabs of stone.
"Very well. You are dismissed Arthur. Inform Wirrel to send the expedition leader to my quarters when they arrive." Victarion commanded, making his way back in through the balcony. "Let us go meet our new Initiates."
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The journey was long and uncomfortable, clearly the Bladesingers didn't like to travel in style. A few bumps and rocks on the road had woken Faris up from his rest, shaking the prison cart so much that he had banged his head off the iron bars. "Ow." He complained, rubbing the tender spot on his head. They were moving through a forest now, the sunlight above struggling to cut through the thick canopy of leaves. Their company wasn't large, himself and a handful of criminals stuffed into the cage while being pulled by two powerful farm horses. The few 'down on their luck' souls that had willingly joined followed the cart either by foot or on horseback, while the Bladesinger himself sat on the front of the cart, his feet propped up on the kickboard. The man wasn't much to look at, his armour shabby and his cloak more well worn than even his, but if the stoies from his youth were true, Faris was looking at one of the most deadly warriors in the world. Stretching out carefully so as not to disturb any of his companions, Faris yawned loudly before speaking up. "Where are we now? Last I saw we were passing Helmgard."
"We, are nearly there." Gallant replied. A man of few words, the two of them had been travelling alongside each other for almost two months now, one of the first recruits picked up from the south. They had talked every now and again to pass the time, and although he didn't say much, Gallant was always willing to answer questions about the order and treated everyone the same. From the nobles to the commoners, he had treated them all with respect and manners. "That would make this...Herklion Forest. By the gods, did you ride all through the night?" Faris said in disbelief. As far as he knew, the man hadn't slept in three days at this stage. Gallant simply nodded, their journey continuing.
"Fuck sake." Came a voice from behind him, one of the others waking up now. He had only been picked up in the last week, and hadn't gotten used to their style of life on the road. "If I knew how uncomfortable it would be, I'd have stayed in the fucking prisons."
"I'm with you brother, I was expecting luxury blankets and food. Prehaps more of a carriage than a cart." Faris joked, watching Gallant as he reached down past his sword and shield to grab two bread rolls from a burlap sack. Tossing both to the two of them through the bars, they both caught them and tucked in. They were slightly stale, but beggers can't be choosers and anything would have satisfied his rumbling stomach. Keeping their voices low as whispers to not wake anyone, the two of them chatted with one another. The man was called Thomas, and over the last week or so he found out he had been imprisoned for stealing cattle from the local noble. Rather than lose a hand, when Gallant passed through he joined up with the Vigilant.
"Eyes up, we've arrived." Gallant said, disrupting the conversation and waking up some of the others. Shuffling around, Faris turned his head to the sight emerging through through trees. The Encircling Mountains were massive, a wall of steep cliffs and peaks so high that snow began to fall before they pierced the clouds. Below that was the gates of Karugard. Standing around 50 to 60 feet tall, an ornate design of runes were carved into the doors while on either side of them was a depiction of a dwarf warrior, both heavily armoured with one wielding a hammer and the other a battleaxe, holding up the rocks above lit by two mammoth braziers whose fires never burnt out, a secret of the dwarves. Faris stood in awe, he had travelled all over with his mercenary company but nothing compared to this. This gateway ran through the entire mountain to the gate on the other side, the one that kept out the beasts of the Forsaken Lands. Meanwhile hundreds of tunnels and rooms carved out of sheer rock provided ample space for the Order.
"Welcome to your new home." Gallant said, breaking the silence all of them fell into under the shadow of the fortress. As they approached, a horn sounded out while the doors opened up of their own accord, slowly peeping back to allow them access to the inside of the fortress. Looking up, Faris spotted a man watching them approach from a balcony above, until he disappeared out of sight as they got even closer. As soon as they were inside, the doors sprang to life once more, closing slowly before shutting out the light of day. The Great Hall was another feat of engineering, and Faris couldn't help but wonder how the race who built it managed. It ran on for so long that he could barely see the far end, lit by metal chandeliers that hung from above, filled with the same magical fire the dwarves had used with the brazier. Several floors lay above, with balconies in place to give line of sight down into the hall. Mammoth granite pillars held up the ceiling, placed at either side of the hall from which hung banners depicting the orders banner; a crowned sword placed between two mountains. Their arrival had already gathered some attention from the other brothers and sisters, who watched as Gallant brought the horses to a halt.
"Brother!" Came a shout from the crowd. A woman stepped forward, clad in heavy armour with a small axe at her waist. Gallant disembarked with a grin and the two embraced. "How was the trip to the south?"
"Long, dull but productive" He answered, heading around to the back of the cart to unlock their gate, allowing them to step out into their new home.