High Fantasy RP Thread

"I misjudged the time it'd take to get here," She said, her voice sounding cold and hollow, "Can I come in?" She asked, motioning to the gate with her hand.

"Depends on your reason for being here. See, we're not really accepting visitors right now"

I thought about how many more I'd be likely to turn away in the coming months. My Lords instructions were rather harsh considering how many farmers were still out there and supposed to be under our protection, but I understand his reasons. Who knew the Paladins would conspire to assassination.

"I'm searching for someone," She said, "I have no idea who they are or what they look like. I only know that they are here."

"Then I don't think you'll ever find them. Turn away ma'am. The gates are closed."

I turned my back on her and started my patrol along the Eastern walltop where there was already another guard patroling

The knight rested her hand on a large coin purse as she continued to address the guard.
"I also seem to have found a large sum of money, I was wondering if the owner might be inside the walls?"

I turned back at the shout from the woman.

"If you attempt to bribe me again, I will loose an arrow at you. Now leave."

"I'm cannot leave until I've brought this person to justice," She replied, "I serve my lord as you serve your own."

I sighed and hefted the crossbow I was carrying across my back, pointing it at her.

"Turn around and leave now. This is your final warning."

"You'd try to kill a traveller simply for asking entry. My what a lovely city you guard." The knight said, a trace of sarcasm in her otherwise empty voice, "I'd like to meet Lord Serpenthelm. I assume you have protocols for when royalty arrive at your gates."

"Lord Leokul is otherwise engaged currently. Why would Royalty come here considering recent events? The Paladins have betrayed us all."

To be honest, the more I thought about it, the odder it was. If she was royalty, why was she alone? Shouldn't she have an escort or something? It was all too fishy.

"Whatever quarrel you have with the Paladins is none of my concern," She said, "In fact, I welcome the notion that someone would be willing to fight them." She paused, unsure of how to continue. "I will gladly act as an intermediary between my house and Lord Serpenthelm, if he requires allies."

"If you're royalty, then you wouldn't mind giving us the name of your house?"

I motioned one of the other patrolling guards over and whispered hasty instructions to inform Leokul as soon as possible.

"Ezris," She replied, "I can trace my lineage back to the Rissain Empire."

I chewed the name over in my head, rolling it around on my tongue. I couldn't remember any noble house known as Ezris, but there was something familiar about it.

"Alright. Wait there."

As Leokul left the house, he patted the guards outside the door on the shoulder and thanked them for guarding him. He was about to walk over to his house for some sleep when another guard came running up to him.

"My Lord, there's a woman outside the gates claiming she is royalty. She claims she is willing to broker an alliance."

"Send her to the council chamber, I'll meet with her there after I have refreshed myself."

The guard saluted and ran off again and Leokul continued his walk towards his house, this time with the purpose of a wash and change.

When the guard finally returned and let her inside, the knight briefly considered hunting for her target before meeting with Leokul, but decided against it, she'd need time, and that would be halved if she were being hunted by the guards. She made her way to the council chamber.

When she arrived, she could feel death in the air, despite there being no physical evidence of anything happening. It was there, death, fear, blood and dark magic. She felt it pouring into her, her body reacting with excitement and joy as it sharpened her senses. The only explaination she could find was that someone in this city was a powerful mage; she would have to be on guard.

Leokul reached his house and went inside, stopping by the washbasin nearest the door and splashing the cold water on his face. He looked up at himself in the mirror. His face was pale, and he felt weak. Leokul needed time to rest, and regain his power, but if there was already nobility arriving then there wouldn't be time for rest in the coming months.

He headed upstairs to his bedroom and to the closet that lay within. He selected some basic robes, noble in appearance but able to conceal the light armour he also choose to wear underneath it.

"Just in case."

Leokul grabbed an apple from a basket in the kitchen as he was leaving and made his way to the council chamber, entering from the back so that he wouldn't have to walk past this visitor at any point. When he finally came into the room, it was on the dias at the opposite end to the main door.

He eyed up his visitor carefully. Her clothing and armour covered nearly every part of her, but she smelled wrong. Not something a normal person could detect, but just off. Leokul was having a hard time placing it.

The visitor cast her gaze to Lord Leokul, her eyes drinking in everything about him. Most living people found this incredibly unnerving, like she was staring into their souls. For several seconds, she stood motionless, analysing him.
"Good evening, Lord Serpenthelm." She said, her voice echoing unnaturally through the room.

"You have me at a disadvantage, Miss?"

Ah. There it was. As soon as she spoke, he recognised the smell and the voice. She had the power of magic coursing through her veins, but not magic that she was in control of. Someone else was pulling these strings.

"Sylvira," She replied, "Of the Rissain bloodline, Ezris." Sylvira shifted her footing to better face Lord Serpenthelm, "I understand that you are willing to broker for allies against the Paladins, though I'm not quite sure why you'd need them." A cold gaze settled on Sylvira, and the words she spoke came naturally, an outside force guiding her actions.

"Oh, so you don't know of anything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours then?"

Leokul crossed his arms and took a relaxed stance on the dias.

"Now, you see. That name carries some problems. The Rissain's near enough died out and the ones that are left are about as noble as my pig farmers."

He began pacing across the dias.

"So IF you really ARE a descendent, then you've either got nothing that I could want or you're a lot older than you have any right to be."

"I am but a knight," Sylvira replied, "My own blood was simply a means to enter your city. It is my lord who can offer you support. I am simply carrying out his wishes." She stopped speaking, her voice cutting out unnaturally, "Though I must know what cause his soldiers will be serving."

Leokul stopped his pacing.

"Your Lord has nothing to offer me. If he did, he wouldn't insult me by sending a Rissain to dirty my halls. Be out of my city by morning."

He spat on the ground and turned away from her.

"You already know what I am, correct?" Sylvira asked, her gaze unshifting from Lord Leokul.

Leokul didn't turn back.

"Yes. And I'm insulted by it.I want no alliance with the abominations."

With that, he left the room the same way he had come.

Sylvira felt her master's gaze leave her, and left the council chamber. She intended to finish her search before she left, and roamed the streets, searching for any trace of necromancy.

As Leokul left, a whisper formed in his head, a raspy voice as cold as the grave.
"Foolish child," It said, "I do not take insults lightly."

"I don't like when people lie to me. Your intentions here are not to broker any kind of alliance. Why did you send one of your thralls to my town?"

Leokul continued his walk back to his house.

"No such promise was made, your guards have obviously... mistranslated what was said." The voice said, "My knight has her own goal, this was simply an opportunity for the both of us."

"You still have not answered why you have sent her. I will allow her to continue unimpeded if her actions are agreeable."

Leokul reached his house and entered, heading straight to the kitchen and began to eat his apple.

"It felt as though someone had torn a hole in reality, something that hasn't happened since the last Blight," It said, "That kind of power would interest any scholar, don't you agree?"

"As a scholar myself, I would be interested. If I didn't already know the details. Send your thrall home. The portal is closed and she will not find what she is looking for."

"Do not presume to give me orders, Leokul Serpenthelm." The voice replied, "You are a child with a new toy. You cannot stand alone against the might of the world, even with your toy."

"You did, once upon a time. Coward, I name you and all of your kin. Remove your thrall or I shall remove her for you, Lich"

Leokul spat the name with disgust

"It appears you are as foolish as your predecessors." The voice replied, "You could've had death itself by your side, you will not live to see your plan bear fruit." The presence left.

Sylvira found herself wanting to leave, and did so. Passing through the gate under the eye of the guards. She could feel her lord's rage seething within herself, and almost struck out at a passing guard. She stopped herself, death would come to this city, one way or another.

Leokul rapped on his window, and a guard from outside came in.

"Ready twenty ravens. Send them out across Praxa. The message must be spread."

"Praxa, my Lord?"

"Yes. If we can tell the Undead that the Paladin's have betrayed the Human Empire, they will form around us. I know we haven't always agreed, but I believe we can make a new future together under peace."

The guard nodded, his convictions strengthened.

"What's the message?"

Leokul glanced around, found some paper and hastily wrote his note on it, passing it to the guard. He nodded at Leokul and left the room hurriedly and a few minutes later, Leokul watched the unkindness of ravens fly from one of the towers.

Some days later

Sylvira stood at the front of the army, as the Lich addressed a legion of his Death Knights. No propaganda, all of them were shown the memory of my time in Sutrea. Of Leokul's insolence and arrogance. The Elves in Arleta were already rallying their army, furious that some human would dare attack the Paladins. The human's government was in chaos, trying to appease the elves and their own people, failing miserably. The others stayed out of it, the Minotaurs incredibly wary of both sides. The Orcs would march under the banners of Warbands, as usual, fighting for whichever side their warband chose and the Dwarves remained in their hidden city, not seeing this war as their fight. Several of our own had defected to Leokul's side, another thing that made the Lich seethe.

Within the Legion, several Death Knights were being sent to the capital, messengers to the human king. The Legion would march in a few days, regardless of what the human king thought, and Sylvira was sent back to Palis, to hunt any defecting undead down.

Sile glanced up at the at the man, whose overly common face lacked any distinguishing features, apart from maybe his receding hairline, which wasn't overly unusual for a man of his age, gathering from the wrinkles on his face.

'Now, the wound, rather fortunately, isn't too deep. Shouldn't even leave too nasty of a scar.'

Sile wanted to reply, but felt an overwhelming... drowsiness of sorts overtake her.

'Won't even feel a thing, this little concoction of mine is quite effective - all locally sourced ingredients too. Although I do fear I may somewhat have miscalculated the dosage for someone of your build. Nevertheless, enough chit-chat, I suppose we should -'

Then there was silence.

Each man stood in silence as they finally caught a glimpse of the beast they had been ordered to hunt. The Griffin, which stood several feet tall, had a rather common brown feather plumage with a beak designed to tear through flesh with relative ease - and, as it had unfortunately turned out for many, the steel plating of a Knight's armour. The monster lay still on its nest, glancing around in a dazed, confused manner. This was of great comfort to Sile - her plan had worked.

The hamlet of Falkar had became rather renowned for its unusual relationship with the Griffin inhabiting its woods. Where as most would run screaming to their local baron about the beast, demanding something be done about this terror gobbling up their cattle and their children alike, the inhabitants of Falkar had instead turned to providing food for the beast - every so often, they would lead an innocent sheep to the edge of the woods, and leave it, in an attempt to appease the Griffin. To people of Falkar, it appeared to work - Sile believed it was simply coincidence. The Griffin clearly had a sustainable food source, the woods, and had no need to feast on the nearby village, the fact the occasional plump ewe showed up had no effect on the eating patterns of the beast.

Nevertheless, this odd little ritual proved to be of great use to Sile and the accompanying Baron's men. It allowed them to fill the poor ewe with all sorts of herbs and chemicals, which would, as seen here, clearly be detrimental to the Griffin. After all, fighting something that found walking a challenge was a much easier task - perhaps not the most noble of methods, but the Baron nevertheless would get the decoration he desired for his feasting hall, and Sile would get her pay.

Thus the Griffin lay, dazed and confused. Everything was going to plan. That was until the creature cast its gaze to the treeline in which the men were positioned. It simply stared at them, or at least in their direction, tilting its head somewhat. No one dared breathe as the Griffin stared unwaveringly. Eventually, the beast gave up, and lay its head down. Everything was going to plan. Then, from somewhere, a twig, or something of the like snapped. The Griffin suddenly reared its monstrous head again. Then the calm broke. One of the men, the Baron's cousin if Sile remembered correctly, roared something incoherent and charged at the Griffin, spear in hand. The rest followed suit quickly, and Sile, drawing her sword, charged forwards as well.

Everything had been going to plan.

The Baron's cousin didn't get very close - the Griffin simply swiped his spear to the side, and lunged forward, catching the tumbling man, ripping into his chest. He screamed in agony, but not for long, as the Griffin tore its beak out, finishing the Baron's cousin. Yet, the next howl of pain came not from one of the Baron's men, nor Sile, but the Griffin, who found itself with a spear lodged in one of its hind legs. Another of the men charged the Griffins front, and even dazed, the Griffin easily swiped the spear aside, but could not pounce on the man, as it lurched to the side to avoid being gutted by another incoming spear from the side. The Griffin regained its balance, and thrust forwards toward its next target - which happened to be Sile. The Griffin, was however, slow - again, thanks to the sacrifice of that valiant sheep - and Sile easily dodged to the side, slashing at the beast as it lunged past. Sile prepared to strike again, as the monster recovered from lurching at thin air, but she was distracted by something - an unusual noise, a rather odd 'growling' of sorts. She glanced to the source of the growling.

Another creature was charging forwards. No bigger than a hunting dog, it was feathered, with a rather sharp beak. It was, as Sile considered herself idiotic for not realising earlier, a young Griffin. Then, the creature leapt towards her, and she reacted instinctively, slicing the youngling across the neck - easily cutting through its underdeveloped skin. It hit the ground, blood oozing from its wound. Next, was a sound that... shocked Sile. The youngling cried, or at least to the best it could, as it coughed up blood. The creature lay crying, oozing and coughing all at the same time, calling to its mother. Then a spear pierced its chest and it lay silent.

The mother screeched and turned, not bothering to finish off the man it had pinned to the ground, whose legs had probably been broken beyond repair by the Griffins grip. It began to sprint forwards, towards its already dead child. It didn't get far - in its blind, motherly rage it was cut down by spear after spear, until it too fell to the ground - not quite dead, bleeding heavily from its wounds, still desperately crawling onwards. Sile positioned herself to deliver the final blow to the beast. It was only as she hoisted her sword up she realised how stupid she had been. Sile had become overconfident, and the Griffin, like a cornered rat, swiped at her. She dashed back the best she could, but the talons caught her, and the tearing of fabric was soon followed by the tearing of flesh. Sile stumbled back, landing on the ground, wounded, but not dead. She was at least in better condition than the Griffin, who was soon finished by another barrage of spear thrusts - but it did not cry out in pain, it simply attempted to edge further forwards, towards the young Griffin. It was a fruitless effort.

Sile got up, slowly, clutching at her stomach - there was of course blood - but the wound didn't appear to be to bad, at least to her, but then again, she wasn't a trained doctor. She could've been in worse shape. After all, the Baron's cousin was dead, there was the unfortunate man who would probably never walk again, and another had to be carried back to the horses unconscious - hopefully alive. Having taken the head of the Griffin, rather awkwardly due to her still bleeding wound, she ordered one of the men to carry it back, and made her way back to the horses as well. It was an unusually long wait, as it took a while for the last two men to return, carrying something in a sack. Sile did not bother to ask, she was overly busy with applying some crude bandaging to her cut.

The journey back was nothing unusual, the weather was calm, and although the ride was slow, having to compensate for the various bumps and bruises they had received, they eventually reached the hamlet of Falkar. Sile, along with the presumably alive unconscious man, and the crippled spearman, were taken to see the village alchemist - who also filled the role of doctor and surgeon, and presumably mortician as well. He was a rather plain man, with a plain face, except for his receding hairline.

As Sylvira crossed the boarder into Palis, she cut herself from the Lich. She could no longer feel his rage, as his gaze was clearly turned elsewhere for now. She had her mission. Most of the defecting undead would be heading straight for Sutrea, but some might still be in this area, and if they weren't, they would be.

Sylvira walked in a trance-like state, using her Necromancy powers to search for any undead.

Sile awoke from her restless, drug incurred rest, and stared blankly at the the ceiling. Then, after a few moments, she sat up on the bed, inspecting the wound which had been stitched up to an acceptable level, and she hoped it would scar over nicely. It still stung, still rather painful, but at least she wasn't going to bleed to death any time soon. As she stood up, grabbing her torn and bloodstained shirt and putting it back, she then took full notice of the fact she was alone in the room. Neither the alchemist, nor any of the men she had entered were present. In fact, what was extremely odd, was the silence. Not just inside, but out. There was not a sound - not a single voice. Sile glanced at the slightly ajar door and move towards it, entering the main square of the hamlet.

Corpses. That was all that lay outside. Men, women, children lying in pools of blood, limbs torn from their bodies. Horses with either their heads torn completely off, or their innards devoured by something. Even as Sile walked further on, there was no difference. It appeared as if there was no sound that broke the impenetrable silence of the village turned cemetery. The sight still shocked Sile as she continued aimlessly, and she had seen some horrific things. But this... this scared her. Terrified her.

Her hand jumped the the hilt of her sword as she heard footsteps - getting closer and closer. By the time she saw whatever monstrosity was coming towards her she was ready to strike. But it was nothing more than a sheep, strolling through Falkar, and grazing on the grass. Whatever had happened must've made it rather unusual tasting she thought to herself, but that clearly did not deter the woolen being.

Sile knelt down by one of the equine corpses, determined to figure out what had happened. She believed she could get a rough idea of whatever had done this by examining the wounds, investigating the area, just like she'd been taught by Rivii. But this turned out to be unnecessary, for as she knelt down, a voice took her off guard, causing her to stumble, soaking her hand in the nearby pool of blood.

"You... You're alive...' The man murmured. She recognised him, mainly from his uniform - he was one of the Baron's men.

Sile went to reply, but was cut off by the man, who was suffering from a deep wound across his chest, and based on the bent position of his arm, a very, very crippled limb.

"You need to go," The man coughed - blood, 'in case it comes back, in case the beast comes back."

Sile sat listening to the man, having dried her hand on her shirt - after all, it was already ruined.

"I thought we'd killed it... You cut off its head!,' to this Sile simply raised her eyebrows in confusion.

"Aye, that's how many of us looked at first, before the panic started... Before the slaughter began. Everyone... Everyone who couldn't get on a horse and get away was torn apart, picked to pieces... They all screamed, the same scream, as... As it played with them. It must've been a demon... It had to have been. For it to be so evil, so full of hatred... For it to have come from the pissin' dead!" He coughed again, the same result as before.

"Did... Did we cause -" He asked.

"No."

"After it was... Finished... It started sniffing the sack, the one we brought back with us... God knows what they put in it... But the beast wanted it. Then, then it just screeched, and flew off." Sile nodded in response.

"Some of the lads got away, took the horse with the trophy on... Probably heading back to the Baron, get their pay. I suppose you'll do the same?"

"That's the plan."

The man nodded, and coughed again - violently. They both sat in silence, until after a few minutes Sile stood up - the injured man didn't follow. She made her way towards the sack, which lay just past the corpse of an elderly woman. The sack was made of a rough brown fabric, and was stained with blood. Through the tears in the sack, Sile could see something no bigger than a hunting dog, feathered, with a sharp beak.

Leokul had spent the last few days torn between various forays into the Void to council with the creatures there and organising the little fighting force he had, along with the few undead that had been showing up occasionally at his gates. He hid them for the most part, visiting them in the early hours of the morning and discussing ambush plans for the coming weeks. He tried to keep them happy, and their belief strong as best he could.

All in all, he was tired. He had liberal use of some rare Crystals found near the border of Ris which replenished the body and mind when mixed with water.

She found one soon enough, the traitor didn't even run. The sight of her onyx armour causing him to drop to his knees and beg. Undead didn't feel pain the way a human did, most couldn't feel it at all. But someone with enough skill in Necromancy could cause the dead unimaginable pain; Lord Praxa was rumoured to be capable of torturing those already in the afterlife; though not even his Knights could answer whether that was true or not. Faced with a coward, too weak to stand by his decision, Sylvira felt rage wash over her body. She grabbed his face, so tightly that her fingers almost cracked the skull, and lifted him.
"You are guilty of high treason," She said, her hollow voice cutting through the air, "And you have displayed cowardice when faced with your chosen fate. You are sentenced to destruction."

With nothing more to say, Sylvira reached up with her arm and tore off her captive's, throwing it to the side. She removed all of his limbs, and dropped his torso and head. She closed her eyes, and the traitor began to scream. A second later, he was unable to make any more sound, not because his torture had stopped, but because it was too much to even make a noise. He thrashed to the best of his ability for several minutes, before his movements slowed and he could only twitch pathetically, before his flesh turned to ash, leaving an ancient looking skeleton, a note trapped under its pelvis.

Sylvira read Leokul's words, and her fury only grew. This worm continued to displease Praxa. Her duty was clear. Her plated boot came down and crushed the skeleton's skull. She vowed, even if she had to tear the world in two, she would destroy Leokul Serpenthelm.