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Thread: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 15) 9th April

  1. #1
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    Default Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 15) 9th April

    Hi there. Just a little side thing I've being doing during the time when I should probably be studying. I've always come up with little stories in my head and over my eighteen year life have compiled an insane list of worlds. My most recent idea is one that I enjoyed thinking of over the summer, making little alterations in my head until I thought it actually resembled a plot. In any case, here is a recent history of my world and what the hell is going on.

    A Brief History of the Empire

    South of the Northern Pass there lies the Amortan Empire, founded six hundred years ago after the Great Human Migration, by Karm an axe wielder picked by the Giant Unum-Inno. It consisted of humans, the Karath, the wyvern and the Ogres. For many years it kept together, though the wyverns and the ogres were not willing members of the Empire, many times launching raids upon human villages.
    23 years prior to the beginning of the story, there occurred the one year war known only as The Great Revolution. All of the other races turned on the humans, led by Unum-Inno, for reasons that only he knew of. During the year long war, two major events occurred, the Capital of the Empire, Amorta City, was taken by the rebels and then burned, with many of it's people still inside. Then the last battle, the humans won and utterly crushed the rebels. There then followed a purge of every non human race, annihilating them. The prologue begins at the conclusion of this battle.


    The World


    The Empire: Covering the majority of the lands south of the Pass, the Empire is bordered to the east by the Unending Forest, to the south by the Forest of Sorcery and to the west by Kaprea. The Empire is ruled by the Emperor, however it is split into three regions, Giantsgrave to the north, The Bluffs to the south, and in the centre lies the Axelands, the land ruled by Emperor. The other two regions are semi autonomous and consist of two powerful dynasties, the Montagues of Giantgrave and the Krannols of The Bluffs.

    The symbol of the Empire and it's rulers is an axe cleaving the crescent moon, as the axe of the Empire's founder, karm was said to be enchanted and was capable to cutting anything.

    The Republic of Kaprea: Formally the third semi autonomous region of the Empire, it split off after a war. Afterwards it adopted a form of democracy that gave men and women the vote, but essentially left power in the hands of the former nobles of the land. It has fought four wars with the Empire, the first being the war of independence, the fourth being a war of aggressive expansion that ultimately failed. it is a land bordered on three sides by the sea, and it became fabulously wealthy thanks to the sea's bounties. The symbol of Kaprea is that of it's founder Lord Silus Blackgull, a black seagull flying over a large ship.

    Giantsgrave: This refers to all the lands north of Heartcore, a village roughly a hundred miles north of Amorta City. It's name derives from it's main city, where the outer walls of the castle town are made of Giant ribs, with two skulls creating the two entrances into the city. It is ruled by the Montagues, a family with a long history of independent action from the Empire.

    The Bluffs
    : This refers to all lands south of the River Loran, a river that is roughly two hundred miles south of Amorta City. It is a land of plains and was originally the land where humans first discovered horses and their use in riding. This tradition has meant that Bluff horses tend to be better than most others. It gets it's name from the five great Bluffs that rise from the plains, five hundred feet wide and four hundred high. The main Bluff, known as Krannol's Bluff, is the capital, with high stone walls providing protection from the elements on top of the Bluff itself. The commoners carve their homes into the rock faces on the winding load leading up the Bluff. It is ruled by the Krannols, usually a great supporter of the Emperor.

    Beyond the Northern Pass: A great number of humans still reside beyond the Northern Pass. There, tribes battle for supremacy for the Forge, a mysterious structure which gives a physical and spiritual advantage. Weapons forged there tend to be stronger and more durable than most other weapons. Those who control the forge are known as Forgemasters and can claim lordship over all the mostly unmapped lands of the region though this realm rarely outlives the Forgemaster.


    Peoples


    Humans: Also known as Karm's people, they made up a high proportion of the Empire's population. Those with decent living conditions often live to ninety at most, but most live to seventy or eighty.

    Karath: A group of mighty swordsmen, they practiced a strict doctrine of perfection in the art of swordsmanship. They lived in the Unending forest, mostly in an enchanted part that forbade access to those that were not friends of the race. General features of Karath are their black skin and lightning fast speed, though this is countered by their relatively short life span, living only fifty years at most

    Wyverns: Giant lizards that live in giant nests underground. They cannot fly, but some can breath fire.

    Ogres: Twice as large as a man, generally considered stupid relations to the Giants

    Giants: Were the main power before the Great Human Migration. A lot of the major human structures are their work. At some point, they pulled back from the world and retreated into the Far North. Beyond the Northern Pass lies those who would not leave their lands, mostly non magical giants, but Unum-Inno was the only magical giant to remain behind.


    Characters of Importance


    The Empire


    Silanus
    Heir to the Amortan Empire. 23 years old, Black hair with red eyes.


    Emperor Armius
    Current Emperor. Sixty years old, greying hair with red eyes. Has reigned for 23 years.


    Karlius
    Armius' brother, married off to a Kaprean noble by his father in order to bring about peace. Fifty-six years old, portly and with grey hair, still with red eyes.


    Caius
    Kaprean Ambassador to the Empire. 25 years old, black hair, red eyes.


    Arol
    Caius' bodyguard. 27 years old, Sandy coloured hair.


    Zalantor
    General of the Amortan Army, one handed and forty five years old. Blond and huge, with a very outgoing personality. Considered by many the best regular soldier in the Empire.


    The Captain
    Leader of the Veteran Guard, never removes his helmet, widely considered the best fighter in the Empire.


    Iro Krannol
    The second Hawk, a mighty horsemen, loved by many in the Empire. Heir to the Bluffs. Short brown hair and brown eyes, very handsome face. 24 years old.


    Kiro Krannol
    Second son of Byron Krannol, named the Sparrow. A Host for the Aspect of Winds. Shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes and a weak looking body. 21 years old.


    Byron Krannol
    Lord of the Bluffs. One of the Emperor's Fingers, and fifty six years old. Suffers from illness.


    Lyssa Krannol
    Betrothed to Silanus, only daughter of Byron Krannol. Famed for her beauty and singing voice. 23 years old.




    Republic of Kaprea


    Rolan Swiftboat
    Small time Senator. 40 years old, comes from a line of neutral senators. Slightly overweight, short sandy coloured hair.


    Lyson Blackwaters
    Current Leader of the Senate, three times a Leader. Personal vendetta with Karla Blackgull. Greying hair, 53 years old.


    Karla Blackgull
    Granddaughter of Silus Blackgull. 85 years old, white hair, with cruel green eyes.


    Stormsail
    The Senator in charge of the Radical Faction. Seeks to give bastards the vote, boosted since Caius' election. Black bushy beard, 35 years old.




    Unaffliated


    Maurice
    Bald mercenary. Wields a Greatsword, has a love of botany.


    Seamus
    Rescued by Maurice, a Host of Archibald, Aspect of Conjuring. Black hair, blue eyes. 18 years old


    Cuell
    Former Senator, drive out of Port Kaprea for treason, built up a small army in the woods, consists mostly of outlaws.





    Arc 1


    Prologue: http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...1#post14200026

    Chapter 1: http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...1#post14200386

    Chapter 2:http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...1#post14219086

    Chapter 3:http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...1#post14240268

    Chapter 4:http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...1#post14250077

    Chapter 5:http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...1#post14265702

    Chapter 6: http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...1#post14277694

    Chapter 7:http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...1#post14295351

    Chapter 8:http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...1#post14304332

    Chapter 9:http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...1#post14323776

    Chapter 10:http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...1#post14344401

    Chapter 11:http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...1#post14367615

    Chapter 12:http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...1#post14414223

    Chapter 13:http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...1#post14422018

    Last edited by Lortano; March 16, 2015 at 07:15 PM.

  2. #2
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    Default Re: The New Era ( little fantasy story)

    Prologue: The end of an Era

    The war was won. Upon the grey plains of Kastorgrow, Emperor Armius had fought for the future of humanity and he had won. He slowly sheathed his sword as all the surviving prisoners were driven together, surrounded by a ring of steelswords. He allowed himself a smile, something he hadn't done for nearly a year. He stared out amongst the carnage, wyvern bodies lay scattered on top of hundreds of human dead. Ogres lay with arrows lodged in nearly every part of their bodies. Heads lay on the ground, separated from their bodies. The grey plains ran red with rivers of blood, yet somehow they had won, against an army that many said was unbeatable.

    Victory. A thought that had seemed impossible a few weeks ago.
    As he stood there, his brother, Karlius came up behind him. He placed his hand on Armius' shoulder.

    "Well fought brother. Perhaps we can have peace now." He pulled his hand off the shoulder, leaving a bloody handprint. Clearly Karlius had been involved in the fighting. Armius found that amusing, his brother had never been very good at fighting, yet he got off without so much as a scratch.

    "Indeed, though there is much to do. Hopefully the Empire and Kaprea can rebuild this together." Armius agreed.

    A man in a blood spattered grey cloak walked up, walking on an injured leg. He was a Grey, the Emperor's bodyguard. His spear head was broken off, but he didn't seem to have noticed.

    "My lord," he said. "We've captured the Giant."

    "What? How?" Armius was surprised. Capturing a giant was obviously not a simple matter. They did have some shackles that could supposedly prevent beings of magic from using their power, but he hadn't expected them to work.

    "The shackles worked. We got them on his legs and suddenly he became weak and lost his magic. We lost a good few men doing it though." The Grey shook his head and limped off to receive some attention."

    Armius allowed himself another smile, but that quickly faded when two more Grey Cloaks pulled forward a shackled being. He was a Karath, his head was bowed and he was wounded, a small cut wound on his shoulder.

    Even in this battle he barely gets a scratch.

    The Karath raised his head, and laughed as he saw Armius.

    "So, even now you want to show your superiority to me and my people?" he spat at Armius' feet. "Well go on then! Gloat over the bodies of the broken and defeated!"

    "You are the traitor here Hierolas so don't give me a lecture on superiority, when you've clearly shown your baseness already."

    "HA! You are no liege of mine!" He spat again, this time a broken tooth coming with it.

    "Silence. I will hear no more of your poison." Armius said angrily, staring at the Karath's auburn eyes.

    "If that is your wish, your worship." Hierolas said mockingly, before staring at Armius' scabbard. "Go ahead. Kill me like the traitor I am. If you can't do it yourself, then why did you even bother fighting this damned war."

    So that's it is it? After everything that happened, all of the death and destruction, watching my city burn...he wants a clean death?

    Armius drew his sword and placed it on Hierolas' throat. The Karath didn't even flinch.

    "Come then, little boy. I told you that the Karath kill when needed, surely such a traitor deserves death. So why don't you finish this, like a true man should?"

    Armius lowered his blade. He walked slightly backwards and grabbed a female Karath. She didn't move as he held her in front of him, gazing at Hierolas. His grin suddenly faded.

    "What are you doing?" he asked tentatively, perhaps hoping that it was a threat, nothing more.

    "You also told me that the death of a loved one does not involve any emotion from the bereaved in your land. So then...show no emotion. Watch her die."

    With that he pulled out his sword and drove it through the Karath's back. He let her fall and let the blood drip from his sword. Hierolas seemed startled, but he kept a straight face.

    "So, you show your true face, Emperor. You are no friend of my people, a mere murderer, little more than a common thief at the side of the road."

    "You burned my city to the ground, and you dare to judge ME on betrayal?" Armius aimed a kick in Hierolas' face. He took the kick without flinching and fell silent. Perhaps he realised what was coming, or that Armius' argument did have some sense to it.

    "For your crimes I will not give you death. But I suggest you try very hard to keep a straight face." He turned and shouted, "Kill all of these traitors. Leave their bodies for the crows and the worms, let this lie as a legacy to betrayal and all it gets you."

    Hierolas strained at his bonds as the humans closed in and the ringing of swords and the clash of steel on flesh and the first sounds of dying began to hit Armius' ears.

    "So, how's that for revenge, old friend." Armius said with a small smile. "You dared to mock ME to my face. I who held your life in the balance. So witness the fruits of your labour, the end of your people, while you live to know that you forced my hand."

    Strange. I feel....empty, but every Karath is a traitor. I must do this, no matter what. Father would have done the same. He burned to death thanks to this creature and this is price enough for him to pay.
    Suddenly he heard a tremendous roar. Hierolas had tears running down his face and he was fighting at his chains, his normally calm face reduced to a mess of red cheeks and spittle. He grabbed at one of the Greys, who shook him off and he fell into the dirt. The screams grew louder, the din rising like an unholy crescendo that no man should ever hear.

    "ARMIUS!" he shouted above the screams. "I will find you one day, no matter how long it takes, no matter how or where you hold me, if you put me under the sea or in the heavens, I will find you again, sitting atop your throne on the skulls of all who died here today. And I will make you the perfect offering to appease them."

    Armius laughed and motioned to the Greys holding him.

    "Your words are empty, old friend, much like your sword hand. You will never see the light of this earth, nor will another Karath face disturb you as you writhe in the darkness of your prison. Take him away."

    Hierolas bowed his head and sobbed as the Greys led him away, not even attempting to struggle anymore. As he turned away from the carnage, Karlius came up besides him again.

    "I respect your decision brother, but I'd hate to be the Emperor right now. No man should make this choice." Karlius' eyes seemed to be filled with pity and he tried to extend his hand to Armius.

    "They made my choice when they tried to kill us both, Karlius." Armius turned away from him. He knew that his brother was only trying to help, but as Emperor he had to shoulder this burden. It was his and his alone.

    "True. But I just hope that you can handle making such a decision." And with that Karlius turned away heading off to direct those tending to the wounded, even as hundreds were slaughtered not a few feet away.

    Armius watched the slaughter, Hierolas' last words ringing in his ears.

    I hope your words are just empty threats...for your sake and for mine.





    From the author: Criticism is actively encouraged if it helps the quality. Cheers.
    Last edited by Lortano; November 11, 2014 at 02:12 AM.

  3. #3
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    Default Re: The New Era ( Title needs work)

    Chapter 1
    Chapter 1: Caius

    Caius slowly trotted on his horse along the narrow dirt path. Behind him lay a long convoy, befitting the Ambassador to Amorta. A prestigious position for one of twenty five, yet not one without risks. The last ambassador came home in a box. Well, two boxes, if rumours were to be believed. Clearly the Emperor was not someone to upset. Still, he was pretty certain that he would not be executed immediately.

    Beside Cauis rode two others, his father Karlius and his bodyguard, Arol. His father was a rather portly gentleman, wearing the fine clothes befitting a Senator of Kaprea. He was in his sixtieth year, and old age was just starting to claim his handsome face. Arol wore chainmail, emblazoned with the Gull and Ship of Kaprea. They made an odd trio, riding in front of a long line of wagons, carrying the various gifts and the staff Caius would need to ensure he survived his year’s term in his position.

    As they approached a crest of a hill, Karlius chuckled to himself.

    “It’s been a long time since I walked these paths. You’re about to see something very, very incredible son.”

    And as they crested it, Caius saw what his father meant. Before him lay Amorta City, the heartland of the Empire, the citadel of Imperial power. Before him lay the grey stone walls that made up the Castle Town defences, and past that, rising far past the walls, lay the Crown. Built by giants, so the rumours went, it was the main reason that the emperors wore no crown, they basically lived in one. Seven great towers rose from it, like the prongs in the crowns that minor lords wear to make themselves appear more important than they actually are. And it was made of hard black rock, difficult to find, even more difficult to break. Caius took in a breath.

    “Well…it is certainly amazing.” He said slowly.

    “Yes. Still, it’s the man inside you’ll be interested in. Let us hope that my brother has grown a sense of humour, or at least become more agreeable to jokes.” Karlius chuckled again.

    He’s enjoying himself far too much for a diplomatic mission, Caius thought to himself.

    And forward they rode, down towards the city gates. And the walls grew bigger and bigger with each step, rising six times higher than Arol, and he stood taller than most. The gates were closed when they reached them.

    “Ah, I remember now. Its market day, all of the farmers brought in the goods last night and sell them today.” Karlius said with a small smile, eyes glistening as he seemed to remember the ‘good old days’ that he was always talking about.

    “What business do you have here strangers!” came a cry from above. All three looked up, as a helmeted head peeped out from the ramparts.

    “Karlius of Kaprea, here to pay my brother a visit. Oh, and I’ve brought the new ambassador along with me!”

    “Karlius? The Emperor’s brother?“

    Karlius’ face went dark and he barked up

    “No, the Emperor’s bed-warmer…yes I’m the Emperor’s brother. Didn’t I just say I was here to visit? Now, open up, or do you want to ask me what I had for breakfast this morning as well?”

    The guard said nothing and the head vanished, after a few minutes and some grunting; the two gates were open wide.

    “Thank you,” Caius said politely. The guard waved them past with a nod, not looking at Karlius, as if slightly embarrassed by the encounter

    Poor man, father can get irritated quite easily by idiots.


    They were in the middle of a bustling city, with market stalls on every side of the street. People ran to and fro, searching for a special treat for birthdays or weddings. The buildings were all constructed of stone, painted many different colours. Karlius was grinning from ear to ear and he began to laugh.

    “Much has changed indeed. Last time I was here these buildings were made of wood…and were burning. My brother must have saved up some of the money he stole from me when we were children.”

    As they passed the crowd began to turn and look quizzically at them. Some whispered to their neighbour and pointed at Karlius, even more so at Caius. Even more amazingly, they weren’t looking at him with hatred.

    “The Emperor’s brother returns!” they said with a cry and many came up to shake his hand. Many old men came up and spoke of how they had once seen him roam the streets when he was young. Young children ran along to see the man himself.

    “They seem to like you father!” Caius shouted at him through the din.

    “Probably because most of them are his children, the wily old bastard!” Arol shouted back.

    Caius would have been insulted but frankly such a revelation wouldn’t have surprised him too much.

    Karlius laughed and dismounted, handing the reins of his horse to Arol. He shouted towards Caius,

    “Go on through to the Crown. I’ll spend some time here and get the rest of the convoy through this madness.” And with that he was lost in a din of people, shaking hands and patting children on the head.

    Caius and Arol continued to trot onwards, the crowd thinning as they got further away from Karlius.

    “Well, it’s nice to know that some of us are popular around here.” Arol said wryly.

    “Well, father is. I’m not sure how they’ll react to me.” Caius said with a small shake of the head.
    “Bah, they aren’t so uptight about who ed who in Amorta. You’ll be fine and hopefully your uncle will be just as kind.” Arol replied, clearly trying not to sound condescending

    “I wouldn’t count on it. If the stories we’ve heard are true then he’ll be one tricky bastard.”

    “Not as tricky as you Caius?” Arol asked inquisitively.

    “Well, I am a very special case,” Caius smiled as they reached the outer wall of the Crown. In front of them lay the curtain wall, also human built, a portcullis blocked their path.

    Two guards wearing grey cloaks raised their spears, blocking their path.

    “You are the Kaprean Ambassador?” one of them asked Arol. He laughed.

    “Me? No, you’ll be more interested in the red eyed lad beside me.”

    The Grey stared at Caius quizzically.

    "A bit young aren't you?" he asked, before shaking his head and waving his hand.

    “You may enter. The Emperor is waiting just inside.” He paused before adding, “Any funny business and I’ll gut you both.”

    The gate opened and Caius went through, before dismounting and handing the reins to Arol.

    “Keep him safe for me. We might need to make a quick escape if it all goes wrong.”

    “Well then, don’t make a mess of it.” Arol replied and dismounted himself and walking away to find some stables, with all three horses in hand.

    Caius turned and walked through the courtyard that surrounded the keep proper. Around him stood men practicing with various dummies, some fighting with spears and swords, other firing arrows at targets. Above him lay the great towers of the Crown, now he was up close he could see the runes carved into the side of the building. And on the steps leading up to the doors, the doors themselves rose near thirty feet, stood Emperor Armius.

    Last edited by Lortano; November 11, 2014 at 04:39 AM.

  4. #4
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    Default Re: The New Era ( Title needs work)

    Chapter 2
    Chapter 2: Reunion

    He had a thin greying beard, red eyes shining out of his head. He seemed to be the sort of man who wouldn’t just behead someone for no reason. Caius thought that it would probably be helpful.
    When he saw Caius walking towards him, he began to stare. Caius bowed before him, and then the Emperor spoke.


    “I was under the impression that my brother would be leading this, not some wet behind the ears lad.”


    Well, not five minutes and he already thinks I’m a wet behind the ears lad. Perfect.



    “Well, your brother is out receiving the adulation of your people, your highness.” Caius said quietly.


    “Oh, so you don’t want to call him father in front of me, do you?” The Emperor asked. Caius felt his cheeks go red. The Emperor smiled when he saw that.


    It appears that father felt the need to tell the Emperor of me.



    “No worries lad, I’m not one to pry in what goes on in my brother’s private life, even when he brings the result to my front doorstep. So tell me, young Caius, they made YOU ambassador?”


    “You know my name?”


    “Of course I do, do you really think that a river is going to stop me from speaking to my brother? My brother and I always keep in contact, though not as often as we would like. Do you think that living in Kaprea makes him my enemy? Or you for that matter?”


    Caius had no answer. The Emperor rubbed his hands together and looked up at the sky.


    “Still, standing out here for too long gives me a chill. Come, let us make introductions inside. I suspect you’ll be far more interesting than the last idiot your Senate sent.”


    Caius and Emperor walked through the hallways of the Crown, flanked silently by two Greys. At last they came to the throne room. And upon the top step lay the Notched Throne. A simple rickety wooden chair, with the backrest having several axe marks in it, the sign of the Empire at war.


    “Does that chair look comfortable young Caius?” The Emperor asked as he walked up to it.


    “I’d rather not sit on it.” Caius replied, trying not to insult the Throne outright.


    “You are damn right my boy. It is the least comfortable thing I have ever sat on, and I once sat on your father during a fight.”


    The Emperor slowly sat down, grunting slightly, the first signs of his age showing. For a man of seventy, he wasn’t in too bad a condition.


    “Don’t I get a chair?” Caius asked.


    “It is my chair Caius. Surely a big strong man such as you can stand for a few minutes?”


    Caius remained standing.


    “So tell me, what did the senate ask you to look out for here? How good our harvests are, how many soldiers I have, whether my son has had any blemishes on his character? Because that’s what the last one screamed as we took him to the block.”


    “All three as well as other various plans they concocted.” Caius responded, he decided that honesty was the better part of valour.


    They also suggested that I put poison in your wine and that I smother your son.
    He felt that mentioning that happy little fact might put a dampener on the whole introduction, so he kept his mouth shut.


    “Excellent, honesty is appreciated. Then again, my ambassador to Kaprea does the exact same thing and I don’t think he bothered to inform the senate…ah well, what they won’t know won’t hurt them. Besides, knowing how much fish you catch is not especially helpful.” The Emperor scratched his beard. Silence fell.


    “So, where is Crown Prince Silanus?” Caius asked slowly, trying to break the silence.


    “Well, usually around this time he’s off practising his fighting with Zalantor.”


    “The one handed general?”


    “Yes, and he’s damn lucky to still have his head.” The Emperor said a touch of anger in his voice.


    “Oh? Did he do something wrong?”


    “Nothing, nothing at all, just the ramblings of an old fool, to be mostly ignored by fellows such as yourself... anyways, where is my brother. I know that being late is one of his many traits but this is a new record.”


    Suddenly a door opened and a man strode in to the room. He had red hair and was carrying a scroll underneath his arm. He stopped when he saw Caius.


    “Oh, I wasn’t aware that the Kapreans would be here so soon.” He seemed rather surprised.


    “We try our best to be on time.” Caius said and bowed. The man stared at him, and Caius could feel him staring at his eyes.


    At least try to look the rest of my face.



    “Well, I think I’ll leave my meeting with your lordship until after you’ve done meeting and greeting.”


    The man gave a cheery wave and then headed off.


    “Valo is his name.” the Emperor said once he had left. “He’s a huge help in running the whole place. Man can make gold axeheads appear faster than a man in a whorehouse. He may seem off putting, but he is a nice fellow.”


    Caius smiled weakly, not wanting to say anything. The Emperor leaned forward slightly on the throne and said quietly,


    “Doesn’t feel nice, does it? People stare at you wherever you walk no doubt. I saw Valo, gazing into those accursed eyes of yours. It shows who you are better than anything. Well Caius, I know you’ve had to deal with this for years, and I’m probably not the best man to say this….but being a bastard doesn’t change the fact that you are my nephew. If you ever need a place to live free from any of that rubbish, my oversized doors are always open.”


    As he finished speaking, the doors opened and up the steps came Karlius. He had a wreath of flowers on his head; clearly the people still loved him here. He smiled when he saw the Emperor, and the Emperor stood from his chair and half ran towards him. They embraced and slapped each other on the back.


    “Armius, how long has it been?” Karlius asked.


    “Not nearly long enough!” The Emperor replied. The two laughed at the joke and shook hands.


    “I see you’ve met young Caius then?” Karlius said.


    “Yes, we were just discussing a few things, including sanctuary should father’s plans go badly awry.”


    Karlius smile faded slightly, and he turned to Caius.


    “I saw the Crown Prince outside. Go and meet him, I believe he was told about you by your dear uncle. We have a lot of catching up to do.”


    Caius nodded and turned away, walking down the steps to the entrance to the throne room. He doubted he’d find his way through the maze of corridors first time, but hopefully he’d find Silanus and speak to his royal cousin.


  5. #5
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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 2 22/11)

    Very nice

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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 2 22/11)

    Quote Originally Posted by General Brewster View Post
    Very nice
    Thank you sir.

  7. #7
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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 2 22/11)

    Chapter 3
    Silanus grunted as his sword clashed with the shield of his mentor. The ironclad warrior stood at least a foot taller than him and getting past the iron shield that was hitched to his arm was proving difficult, to say the least. What made the fight even more interesting was the fact that his opponent was unarmed, save for the shield.

    He feinted high, then low, then slashed high. His opponent simply raised the shield and blocked it again, before reaching with his other hand and grabbing Silanus’ arm. He twisted, and with a grunt the sword fell from his hand. Silanus stumbled back as his opponent pulled off his helmet.

    “Silanus…you lost to an unarmed man,” the man smirked.


    “This is you we are talking about here Zalantor.” Silanus replied. “If I didn’t lose, we’d have to find a new general.”


    Zalantor laughed at that, his gauntlet sweeping through his short blond hair. The man was a very competent combatant and Silanus had never beaten him. Nor did he expect to, the man was a cunning fighter and Silanus had seen him take down many a young braggart. Zalantor’s other arm lay strapped behind his shield, which he promptly removed, revealing his lack of a right hand.


    “I reckon that’ll be all today Silanus. You move on to whatever lesson you need to learn how not to start a war when you open your mouth.”


    “Why? Losing your touch, old man?” Silanus said cheekily, hoping to draw a response.


    “I am not old!” Zalantor shouted. The man could barely be touched by weapons yet one jab about his age cut him deep.


    Everyone has a weakness I suppose.



    “Those grey patches say otherwise.” Silanus observed. Almost instinctively, Zalantor moved his hand over the sides of his head, where indeed little grey hairs were starting to outnumber the blond.


    “I’ve still got a good twenty years left in me. I’ll still be going when you’re busy being on by Silanus the Younger, and then trying for more with your little wife.”


    Silanus turned bright red and he felt his cheeks go warm. Apparently it wasn’t just his words that could cut deep.


    “Come now, I’ve never even met the woman!” he protested. It was true. He was betrothed to Lyssa Krannol, the daughter of the current Lord of the Bluffs, Logan Krannol. Apparently she was a very beautiful young lady, but she and Silanus had never met. He was still nervous about doing so and oddly enough Zalantor’s jibes were not helping the situation.


    “You’ll be getting familiar with her real quick when you finally meet.” Zalantor said with a smirk.


    Silanus’ hand moved to his sword. Zalantor laughed, he knew how to make Silanus angry and Silanus fell for the bait every single time.


    “What are you going to do with that? Hit my shield a few times and then be crushed faster than a drunk trying to fight a giant?”


    “We’ll see about that.” Silanus said slowly drawing his sword. Suddenly he felt a prick in the side of his neck. He immediately stopped breathing, his mouth going dry.


    Assassins,
    that was his first thought before he slowly swivelled his eyes sideways and saw a young man, with red eyes, staring at him, holding a knife to his throat.

    The whole courtyard went silent. Zalantor didn’t even move, but Silanus knew he wouldn’t just let this person kill him. The man was staring at him, slowly examining his face. Then he chuckled and Silanus felt the pressure leave his neck. The man slowly put the knife back into his pouch at his side.

    “Lesson one that your mentor hasn’t taught you. You focus on one man and don’t look behind you, you die.” The man said with a smile, as Zalantor stormed over. There was fury on his face.


    “What the hell are you playing at? Do you know who that was?” he demanded and Silanus seriously thought that he was going to throw the man through a nearby wall.


    “Crown Prince Silanus, heir to the Amortan Empire. I know of him, and I think you have a good idea who I am. But for those of us who don’t, I am Caius, Kaprean Ambassador. A pleasure to meet you.


    Zalantor sheathed his sword, a look of extreme displeasure on his face.


    “The bastard of the Emperor’s brother, I wondered when you would show your snivelling hide around here. Now I’ll ask again, what in the name of Karm’s hairy arse were you doing putting a knife to the prince’s throat?”


    “Peace Zalantor.” Silanus said and gazed at his cousin. He seemed rather handsome, with black hair, much like his own and eyes that scanned him.


    “That was a dirty trick you played there, cousin.” Silanus attempted to put on an air of dignity, despite being completely being caught off guard and embarrassed


    “Well, it’s a little lesson. I’m sure your father will thank me for it later.” Caius seemed to just wave away the act like it was nothing.


    Yes, or kill you,
    Silanus imagined the handsome face in a noose. It felt surprisingly satisfying.


    “If it makes you feel better, I would lose an actual fight.” Caius said with a smirk, before extending his hand. Zalantor grunted and walked off to shout at some recruits, as Silanus shook Caius’ hand


    “So, father has told me much about you.” Silanus said. He’d also made some lewd comments regarding Karlius’ infidelities but he thought it best not to let Caius know that.


    “My father said little of you, though he did say that you were destined to be great.”


    Barely concealed flattery... This man spins on a plate, one minute he holds a knife to my throat, the next he wants to be my best friend.



    “Oh and he also mentioned something about you getting married.” Caius said. Silanus went red again.


    “Ah, er, yes, I’m engaged to a Krannol.”


    “Ah I see. Well, good for you cousin. It’s nice to see someone able to have that particular privilege.” Caius said a small hint of bitterness in his voice. Silanus remembered something else his father had told him. Bastards in Kaprea were not allowed to breed, to sleep with anyone risked being hurled into the sea, or broken on the harbour wall.


    “Well, thank you very much for the introduction Caius.” Silanus said without a hint of sarcasm. His diplomacy lessons would not go waste, especially in front of a close relative.


    “Tell me, would you like to take a walk along the walls and watch over the city at night?” he continued.


    “Getting in some practice for the lovely lady?” Caius asked mockingly.


    “Shut up.”


    “I jest. I do enjoy nice walks, so I think I will come. Sundown will do quite nicely.”


    As he spoke a knight in chainmail walked up, with the Gull and Ship on his chest. He was tall, a head shorter than Zalantor, but he towered above Caius.

    No doubt Zalantor will see this man as a challenger. He always did. Whenever a knight tried to worm his way into the higher ranks of the army, Zalantor would challenge them. Usually it ended with said knight being punched very hard in the face and then having his arm twisted behind his back.


    “Caius, all the horses and wagons are where they are needed.” The knight began, before noticing Silanus. He gave a small bow. Caius nodded in response.


    “Thank you Arol. Meet Prince Silanus.”


    “The pleasure is mine, your highness.”


    “Pleased to meet you as well, good knight, I hope you enjoy your time here.” Silanus replied curtly. He seemed strong. Maybe even a match for Zalantor.


    “Have you two been introducing yourselves to each other?” Arol asked.


    “Yes, I held a knife to his throat and that proved to be an excellent conversation starter.” Caius said, and began to walk away.


    “You WHAT?” Arol looked at Silanus with a look of worry.


    “Forgive him my liege, he’s…new at this whole diplomacy idea.” He said and bowed again, then ran after Caius, who was striding towards the stables.

    Silanus rubbed his neck where the knife had been. There was a small mark there on his skin.

    I shall have to keep an eye on him, family member or not.



    Zalantor came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.


    “Don’t worry lad, Caius is certainly a piece of work, but if he so much thinks about killing you, I’ll personally bring his senate the gift of his head.”


    “You have his little knight friend to deal with.” Silanus pointed out.


    “Are you joking, young man? I’d beat him to death with his own chainmail before he could land a blow.” Zalantor laughed as if the very idea of him losing was a joke. He then continued,


    “Oh, and Varo just sent one of his runners along. Apparently you’re late for your lesson on speech making.”


    Silanus groaned. Varo was very, very clever but unfortunately he was also a very, very boring teacher.


    “Ugh, it better not be another welcoming speech for my bride to be…” he muttered.


    “I’m sorry, what was that?” Zalantor asked with a stupid grin on his face. Silanus felt like punching the oaf in the face, hard.


    “Nothing, now get back to shouting at people, I have some work to do.” he turned away and headed for the front steps of the Crown, ready to work his way all the way up to the fifth floor, to Varo’s room.



    New chapter. I wasn't entirely sure about this one, but give it a read and see what you think. Critique can then be turned into edited results!

  8. #8
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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 2 22/11)

    Chapter 4
    The sun was just beginning to set when the attack began. They were ambushing a large garrison that was moving up to Port Kaprea for the annual independence celebration, unfortunately for the garrison in question; their route took them through the forest where the Cuellen rebels made their home.


    Maurice watched the passing garrison from his hiding place just within the tree line. There were at least two dozen of them, but a few arrows would cut the numbers fast. However, every soldier was armed and ready for a fight. It would appear that the Senate had woken up to the threat within these woods. Still, it wasn’t his fight. He fought for gold axe-heads and silver crescents. Such was the life of a sellsword.


    The signal was given as the first arrow struck the lead soldier’s horse, sending him and the horse tumbling. In seconds, more arrows came down from the trees, striking several members of the garrison. The Kapreans rallied, and gathered around their commander as the rebels rushed out of the woods. Maurice charged the group, raising his two handed greatsword with a roar.


    He slammed into a young soldier with his shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground. As another rebel moved in with a dagger and drove it between a chink in the young soldiers armour, Maurice turned and swung low, taking another soldier’s legs from under him. As he fell, he raised the sword and brought it down upon the soldier’s chest. Blood spurted out of the wound and the soldier died almost instantly.

    The fighting was over quickly, not one of the soldiers had been spared, and now the gift that they were bringing to Port Kaprea was in rebel hands. One rebel wiped his hands of the blood and then walked over to Maurice, who was busy searching the man he had killed for any money.

    “Not bad work sellsword, you may make a decent rebel yet.” He grinned at Maurice, who didn’t even bother looking up at him.


    “Your dream is wonderful and limitless in its potential, but I doubt that your coin reserves run that deep.” Maurice responded.


    “Bah, you sellswords and your love of money, surely there is something else that you love?”


    “More money.” Maurice responded, lowering his sword into its scabbard on his back.


    The rebel laughed.


    “Don’t you worry about that, once we get this open we’ll get hold of more loot than you can imagine.”

    He gestured to the carriage; it had one barred window and a locked door. One rebel was currently trying to pick the lock and sure enough the lock soon clicked.

    Maurice picked himself up and headed over as they opened the door. There was silence as the light hit the contents. In the very corner of the crate sat a man. He blinked as the light hit him.


    “In the capital already? Faster than I expected.” The man said with a raspy voice.


    He pushed himself up and cheerfully stepped out of the carriage, his expression changing to confused as he realised that he wasn’t actually in Port Kaprea, and then horror when he realised that he was standing on the corpse of the recently departed commander.


    “Oh.” He managed to squeak out, staring at the body.


    “Who are you?” one of rebels asked. That seemed to snap him out of his stare.


    “Ah yes. My name is Seamus and I assure you that I can fetch quite a high ransom price. So…please don’t….hack me to death?”

    There was a silence. Then one of the rebels said,


    “What if he’s one of those tricky senators? They catch you with their words and then kill you with hidden knives.”


    “I assure you gentlemen, that I would never betray you.” Seamus said, showing both sides of his hands as a gesture of peace. However, it also revealed the small green stone embedded in the back of his hand. Instantly weapons were drawn.

    A Host? Now things are getting interesting. Hosts were humans that had a bond formed between them and an aspect of magic, literally by having the aspect within the stone embedding itself in the flesh. This gave the Host access to some very powerful magic but, as far as Maurice knew, some nasty drawbacks.

    Seamus seemed to realise his mistake as he slowly lowered his hands again.


    “I am peaceful. Yes, I am a Host, but I’m no sadistic killer.”


    “I’ve heard rumours about what happened in Carobar. They say one Host alone captured the city, turned its people into unliving slaves and still lives there to this day. This one could be that very one!” one of the rebels barked out. The armies of kaprea couldn’t scare these men yet this young man made them all draw weapons on him. Even Maurice had to admit that it was somewhat impressive.


    “Come now, even if I was the one who captured Carobar, surely I’d have an undead army at my back. Also, how do you suggest that these Kapreans took me from Carobar, a city a fifty bloody miles within the Empire?” Seamus smiled reassuringly at the rebels after he spoke, hoping logic and reason would win them over.


    Good points, but I doubt it’ll be enough
    . The Aspects and their Hosts were feared throughout the continent, especially because of the Tragedy of Carobar.

    The weapons stayed raised. Seamus looked slightly afraid now. Then, his whole stance changed and he stood taller, and his voice boomed out.

    “You will release me, or I will use my powers to kill each and every one of you.” It was a bold move and a clever one at that.


    “I highly doubt that,” came the curt reply, from the man standing behind Seamus with a notched arrow in his bow pointed directly at his head. All the other rebels fell to their knees, except for Maurice. Ex-Senator Cuell, as he liked to style himself, was the leader of this rag tag group. Seamus appeared dumbfounded.


    “Oh? No witty comeback? Perhaps a threat about pulling my heart out? No? Nothing?” Cuell asked, his voice slowly rising in volume. He did have quite the temper when he got going, though Maurice imagined living in a forest for a few months did that to you. He jabbed the arrow into Seamus’ back and called to his men.


    “Take him back to the camp and tie him to a tree. He may have magic, but I doubt he can use it if he’s tied up so much that he can’t move his hands.” They grabbed Seamus and dragged him away, protesting as he went.

    It was only Maurice and Cuell left, as the ex- senator began sifting through the corpses, looking for anything the rebels may have missed.

    “Looking for my pay?” Maurice asked, sitting next to him.


    “It’s not my fault that the caravans have nothing in them. Kaprea has grown smarter.” The leader said with a shrug of the shoulders. He did have a point; the amount of traffic had lessened since Cuell’s band started their attack.


    “That still doesn’t change the fact that my pockets are surprisingly lighter than you promised.”


    “Look, give it another week and I promise you’ll get your pay.” Cuell gazed at him, seemingly begging him not to leave.


    “Excellent.” Maurice patted Cuell on the back and walked into the woods. He’d first gotten involved with the rebels a month ago, after hearing from a band of mercenaries about the excellent pay. Once he arrived he quickly realised that the mercenaries had probably been carrying most of that pay, Cuell had been more than happy to have his services, but clearly his coffers were empty.


    After a ten minute walk, he was back at the rebel camp, a collection of a couple dozen tents which housed about 50 men. Most of them were other outlaws who saw that grouping with Cuell might get them more profit, as well as his promise of a pardon. Five of them were loyal soldiers from Cuell’s Senatorial days, who were loyal enough to follow him into exile. All five of them were busy tying up Seamus to a nearby oak tree.


    “Look, gentlemen, I have Crescents and Axeheads by the thousands if you’ll let me go!” he protested, to no avail, the ropes were simply bound tighter.


    “Sure you do, now hold still or the rope might crack a rib and we’d all hate to see that.” One of the knights, Sarol was his name, said. Seamus fell silent.


    Maurice rolled his eyes and headed over to his tent, a battered old thing that had seen far too many rainy nights. He removed his scabbard and placed it beside his bed, a small cloth rectangle that he could barely lie on. But still, it was better than nothing, or being tied to a tree. He got back up and stepped out of the tent, watching the hive of activity. Men were bringing in wood, there were several women there as well, fletching arrows and sharpening weapons, both theirs and the men. Some rebels were busy cooking some sort of stew; others were busy trying on the armour of Kapreans they had killed.

    Maurice shook his head. It was all rather disappointing, considering that Cuell’s grand plan, from what he could gather, was to march on Port Kaprea and demand his pardon. He’d never been to Port Kaprea, but he suspected that the Senate’s response would be to close the gate to the 50 men and then fill them with arrows. He was beginning to understand why the mercenaries he had met were moving as far away from Cuell as possible.


    As he watched, one of Cuell’s loyal soldiers, a woman named Merialla, came marching up to him.


    “Mercenary,” she said curtly. Maurice bowed his head out of respect.


    “What’s the problem Merialla? Did I look at you in an innapropriate way again, because I assure that the last time was unintentional.”


    She stared at him coolly. Apparently humour wasn’t going to work.


    “Where were you last time we were practising?”


    “Practising? Whatever were you doing?” Maurice asked, rubbing the back of his bald head.


    “Fighting! Training the men for the eventual victory!” she raised her voice slightly, glaring at Maurice.


    “Oh, that training. Well I was busy doing more productive things, such as flower picking. I keep a record of the plants I find you know.” The last part was true, though he mostly didn’t bother attending because beating up men who could barely swing a sword wasn’t especially interesting.


    “I don’t care about your strange habits, Mercenary. You are at this camp; you will obey its rules, as long as we pay you.” The soldiers frown deepened.


    “Well, pay me a fair wage and then we’ll talk about training.” Maurice grinned in response.

    She had no answer to that. He continued,

    “What’s the matter my dear? Feeling a little stressed? Go talk to Markol, I hear he has a touch of that as well. Perhaps you two could work it out together?”


    She blushed, exactly as he’d expected. The two of them clearly liked each other, though neither of them would admit it.


    “You mind your own business mercenary, or I’ll cut your bald head from its shoulders.”


    With that she stormed away towards Markol.


    “Damned woman, my hobby is not silly.” He muttered to himself. He looked up as the evening drew to a close.


    After the evening meal, which was spiced up considerably when Cuell had a merchant’s son's hand cut off because his father refused to answer a ransom note, the group headed off to bed with the boy screaming in the night as they cauterised the wound.


    Maurice lay on his bed, half asleep. He wasn’t sure if he would last another week here, he doubted even more that he would actually get a decent amount of coin at the end of it. As he shook the thoughts from his head and prepared to get a decent night’s sleep, he heard a voice whisper into his ear.


    “Mercenary, get up. A friend of mine wishes to speak with you.”


  9. #9
    General Retreat's Avatar Policeman Pleb
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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 4 12th December)

    I must admit, I'm finding the rebels and Maurice much more engaging characters than the previous royal court antics. That said, it's all very well written so I'm definitely keenly anticipating your next installment. Maybe a little more about the insurgency campaign?
    Swords of the Sea: 1066 has come and gone, the Danelaw torn down and a new kingdom built in the image of its Norman rulers. But with time, wounds heal and what is broken can be reforged. The Danes have returned with steel, and seek to reclaim what is theirs.
    The Great Expedition: Pax Anglia, one of Earth's great empires, sprawling across the stars. On their newly colonised planet of Nova Sydney, adventure awaits on the savage frontier - Henry Boyce steps forward to lead an expedition to pierce the Bushlands' wild heart.
    Winter War: Finland, 1939. The Soviet war machine has begun its indomitable advance from the east. Of all its neighbours, only Finland stands alone in defiance. Conscript Anton Bezrukov prepares for a quick victory, but the reality is far bloodier...

  10. #10
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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 4 12th December)

    Come on now, everyone likes rebels more than Royals, we all like an underdog.

  11. #11
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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 4 12th December)

    Chapter 5
    Maurice slowly picked himself up. There was nobody nearby.

    “Hello?” He hissed into the dark.


    “If you are trying to speak to me, I’m afraid I can’t quite hear you .It’s the disadvantage of using human ears. Over by the tree, quickly now


    Maurice grabbed his sword and moved out of his tent, heading towards the tree where Seamus was bound. The young man seemed to be asleep. Maurice grabbed his face and pulled it up to wake him and he awoke with a start.


    “You called?” Maurice asked.


    “What? No, I would never trouble your rest good mercenary.”


    “Fortunately, we aspects don’t have a concept of sleep.”
    The disembodied voice, said with a small chuckle.


    Maurice raised an eyebrow. He knew the aspects had power but this was something he didn’t expect. Seamus eyes widened in horror.


    “Archie, what did I tell you about talking to random people! Especially the kind that carry large swords!”


    “Oh shut up you young fool, I have no intention of choosing these buffoons as my next Host, and I must admit I have become rather fond of you. Anyways, Mercenary, I have a deal I can make with you.”



    “Go on.”


    “We happen to know the location of a fabulous treasure that could be yours if you cut the ropes loose.” Seamus nodded in response

    “Yes, it’s worth so much that men would kill for this information.”


    Maurice stroked his chin, while slowly moving his head to check for movement. He was expecting an axe to the head if they spoke too loudly.


    “It’s a deal. Give me a few minutes to pack my tent and we’ll be on the move.”

    With that he headed over to his tent and slowly began to pack it away, rolling his mattress up and placing his few valuables into a pouch that he wore by his side. Inch by inch he took down the tent rolling it into a cylindrical shape. He left them on the floor and headed back to Seamus. He pulled a dagger from his side and cut the ropes binding the young man and then stepped back, allowing the young man to catch his breath.

    “Thank you,” Seamus said as he dusted himself down.


    “Don’t mention it. As long as I get my pay, you’ll walk away a free man.”


    Suddenly Seamus froze, staring behind Maurice. He slowly turned around, and saw an arrow in his face. Cuell was there, with his five retainers behind him.


    “Interesting. I didn’t expect you to get this desperate Mercenary. Did you really think I wouldn’t keep a watch on him?”


    Maurice cursed himself silently, but he kept a small smirk on his face.


    “Of course I knew. I’m not afraid of you or your swords; you’re as toothless as the old men that you rob for their last crescents! You really think I wouldn’t have a plan to escape you?”


    “I do hope you actually have a plan.” Archie whispered in Maurice’s ear


    Cuell laughed as the camp began to rouse itself and more and more men began to join the group. Some of them were armed, and all of them didn’t look pleased at being woken up in the dead of night.


    “So then Mercenary…how does fifty against two sound to you? I’m guessing you have a grand plan to kill each and every one of us?” Cuell tilted his head to one side and gave a cocky grin.


    Maurice drew his greatsword and held it towards the group.


    “Run.” He ordered Seamus. Seamus did so, turning tail and fleeing through the woods as Maurice slowly backed away from the mob, defending Seamus’ escape.


    “You’ll pay for that, Mercenary.” Cuell shook his head softly as Sarol and Markol walked forward, chainmail glinting in the light of the torches.

    Maurice leapt forward, and blocked a stroke from one of the retainers, before darting backwards, trying to keep both of the men in front of him. As he did so, his foot caught on a tree root and tumbled backwards, his greatsword flying from his grasp. In an instant, he had the two swords to his throat.

    “I want him alive.” Cuell said above the laughter of his men and motioned with his hand. Maurice was dragged to his feet and taken to a post in the centre of the camp, which he was then tied to. The knots were tight on his wrists and hurt almost as badly as his beaten pride. Cuell watched the binding with interest, and as the rest of the men went back to sleep leaned close to Maurice.


    “I haven’t decided on how long to draw out your misery yet.”


    “Oh? Can you keep thinking about it for another few years?” Maurice gazed up at him with slight contempt.

    Cuell grabbed Maurice’s face and held it tightly in an iron grip.

    “You are a truly funny man. You should be entertaining the emperor with your wit. Alas, I’ll have to send him your ashes in a small pot.”


    Maurice gulped.


    “You want to burn me?”


    “Well, considering how much pain you caused me by letting that Host get away, I suppose I will have to draw your own pain out. I imagine we can find some damp wood to make the pain worse.”

    Maurice’s face grew pale.

    “Burnt….alive?”


    “I don’t want quick or clean deaths Mercenary. Not for traitors. You’ll die in the exact same way all the traitors in Port Kaprea will, slowly and with me watching with tears of joy streaming down my face.”


    “You are a bitter bastard, in all my years I have never someone I wanted to choke more than you at this moment.”


    “Brave words for someone doomed to die.” Cuell moved back and began to turn away.


    “You really think that your pathetic excuse of a rebellion is going to win?” Cuell turned sharply to face Maurice.

    “Without traitors such as yourself? Almost certainly. Loyalty breeds triumph, after all.”

    “You have fifty men! Against a nation whose military might is matched only by the size of your ego!”


    “Fifity today, an army tomorrow.” Cuell shrugged his shoulders, as though it were a given that he would gain support.


    “You’ll be dead this time tomorrow, if you keep that attitude up. You really are overestimating yourself.”


    “I have led a successful revolt against Kaprea, evading captured despite its military might. I will be spoken to with respect, Mercenary!”


    “Nonsense! From what I heard you fled the capital near two months ago and as no massive army has come to end your sorry excuse for a life I expect that the Senate hasn’t even noticed yet! Successful? You stole objects with all the net worth of a whore’s undergarments. In fact, I’m pretty sure that you did steal a whore’s undergarments at some point, or were those presents for your mother?”


    Cuell slapped Maurice in the face, hard, before turning away.


    “Enjoy your last night Mercenary. I do hope that you don’t soil yourself on your pyre tomorrow, we wouldn’t want to add to your discomfort.”


    “Rot inside your own arse Cuell, you’ve spent enough time there.” Maurice responded as Cuell headed away to his own tent.


    Bollocks
    , he thought to himself. It was the stickiest situation he’d found himself in for a long time, especially the part about being burned alive. He could endure torture and accept death, but burning…the very thought sent a shiver down his spine. He began to think of some escape plans but all of them were hampered by the fact that he was unable to move, both his hands and feet were tied to the pole. He bowed his head as the fire began to burn low and decided to sleep on the matter. After all, he didn’t really have much of a choice.


    The next morning Maurice was awoken by having the contents of a toilet bucket hurled over him and the following raucous laughter. He shook his head and gazed up at the crowd and felt his gaze wander to the conspicuous and newly built pyre.


    “Wake up Mercenary. It’s time to free yourself of your flesh.” A voice whispered into his ear and he felt the ropes being cut. He fell to the ground, only to be dragged to his feet by two of Cuell’s retainers, Markol and Sarol. He slowly shook his head to wipe the sleep from his eyes as he was half dragged towards a pyre, where Cuell was standing with a lit torch in his hand. He was grinning, with pure delight, a little too much delight.

    He enjoys it…Maurice could scarce believe that any man could enjoy burning another man, to hear the screams and smell the scent of roasting meat. But Cuell…perhaps he had underestimated just how far the ex-Senator would go to win.
    He finished the train of thought as he was hurled at Cuell’s feet, with the two retainers standing over him like two iron towers. Cuell knelt down, handing the torch to a young outlaw, and whispered to Maurice.

    “I want you to beg for your life. Maybe then I’ll just have Markol drive a blade through your gut.”


    “I see through your charming promises Cuell. You love lording over those who can’t hurt you, you’d probably sell your own mother to a brothel if you felt that you’d profit.”


    “I gave you a choice.” Cuell shrugged his shoulders and turned to the young outlaw.


    “The torch if you please.” He said softly before booming out to the rest of the camp,


    “This scum has rejected my merciful offers of death and has instead chosen to burn like last night’s deer,” he shot a rueful glance at the man who’d prepared the stew.


    “As such,” he continued, “I insist that all of you watch this and learn the valuable skill of loyalty, that this plague on humanity clearly has not learnt in his life.”

    He would have continued, but there came a great roar from the woods and the twang of bowstrings, the young outlaw toppled forward with two arrows in his back and Markol took two more in his shield. Then came a dozen javelins, flying in at all angles, Cuell dived to the ground to avoid them, Markol and Sarol moving in to protect him, the other three rallied the outlaws. Not that it did any good, some were already turning to flee, others doubled over with javelins in the gut.


    That’s when a group of heavily armed soldiers burst through the trees, surrounding the camp and charging in with a roar. Maurice rushed to his feet, his would be captors now diving for cover and weapons, and rushed towards Cuell’s tent, he’d seen his greatsword get taken there the night before.


    “Kaprean Military!” came a cry from one of Cuell’s retainers, above the screams Maurice couldn’t make out who it was. He turned to see one soldier drive a spear right through an outlaws chest, and yet another soldier beheading a bearded man as he rushed at him. He glanced behind him as he ran and saw Markol hurl a javelin clean through one soldier’s head and then grab Cuell and start pulling him out of the melee.

    He reached Cuell’s tent and pushed open the flap and paused. Rifling through the open chest in the corner was Seamus. Maurice grabbed his greatsword that was stood next to Cuell’s makeshift mattress and then tapped Seamus on the shoulder.

    “So you did come back?” Seamus looked startled but then gave a small grin when he realised who it was.


    “Thank Karm you got out alright. Quickly, grab some of this and then follow me, I made a hole in the back of the tent.” He pointed a gaping hole in the material. Maurice knelt down and gazed in wonder at the chest. It had gold and jewellery in it, silver as well, though the Sapphire necklace caught his eye the most; Sapphires were only found in a tiny corner of Kaprea.


    “Couldn’t pay me, pah!” he half laughed, half spat. He grabbed a fistful of gold, as well as the necklace and with Seamus jumped through the flap and ran off into the woods, just as the screams began to die down from the camp.



    Righto, I rewrote this chapter because it was too short for my ling and didn't have nearly enough drama, they both just ran away in the first draft. So I spent the last week rewriting it, hopefully it came out a bit better. Anyways, I likely won't be posting over this christmas period, but I might find the time to edit Chapter 5. For now, enjoy this, and feedback is appreciated. Tata.

  12. #12

    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 5 21st December)

    Archie sounds like a funny guy, but that Saphire necklace... It smells a lot of Chekhov's gun.

  13. #13
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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 5 21st December)

    Whatever plans I have for that object, I assure you that it will in no way involve a peasant king and a rubbish deus ex machina to destroy an evil dark lord. I'm not that unimaginative.

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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 5 21st December)

    Chapter 6
    Rolan, clutching several parchments, hurried through the Senate House towards the main chamber. The Leader of the Senate had asked for him to bring all of these parchments for use in deciding how to deal with a tax dispute involving some powerful merchants. As one of his supporters, Rolan was all too happy to oblige. He rushed past an open window, briefly glancing out at Port Kaprea, the City of Gulls.

    He rushed past various servants of Senators, themselves carrying parchments and messages. Rolan did not wish to compare himself to them. He was,after all, a Senator himself, the makers and maintainers of the law. Like his father, and his father before him he had entered the Senate, and now as a 40 year old he had his sights set on a nice high position to retire in.


    For now, his thoughts were settled on delivering the parchments to their destination. Eventually he found himself at a large oaken door. He knocked twice and then pushed the door open. He shuffled in and up some stone steps to the main part of the study, not failing to notice the shields that bore each Senate Leader’s name, from the very founding to the latest. He was currently sitting at his desk, poring over a letter. Lyson Blackwaters was his name.


    He looked up as Rolan gave a cough.


    “Ah, Senator Swiftboat. I assume those are the papers I asked for?”


    “Of course, Captain.” It was custom in the senate for it’s leader to be referred to as captain, due to the seaborne heritage of the republic. Lyson took the parchment from Rolan and placed them aside, before waving the letter gently in the air.


    “I just received this. It’s from Ambassador Caius.” Rolan noted that he refused to refer to the bastard by his last name, as did most in the Senate.


    “Oh? He hasn’t been murdered has he?”


    “No, but apparently he just crossed the border, so he should hopefully be safe and sound in his uncle’s arms.”


    “And then he’ll be sent back in a box a few days later?”


    “Would save us all some trouble, that’s for certain.” Lyson took a sip from a nearby wine glass.


    Drinking while working
    ,Rolan wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.


    “Now, about the vote coming up today.” Lyson began.


    Rolan nodded, still standing. The vote in question happened to been proposed by a group of radicals,calling for an abolishment of the Bastard Laws. The Laws prevented a bastard from having children or being married. In fact it all but excluded them from public office, but Caius had broken that barrier.


    “There’s no doubt it will fail, Captain.”


    “Oh yes, but they bring this up after every bloody election.We need to deal with this problem at the source.”


    “What, murder them?”


    “No. Treason would be a good crime to catch them in. But for that we’d need an insider.” He glanced up at Rolan.


    “What? Me?”


    “Yes. Your grandfather kept out of the Liberation War until the last minute and your father took no position on anything. Now, if you’d like to pass your seat to your sons, I’d suggest that you do as you are ordered.”


    Rolan’s eyebrow gave a nervous twitch. He was right of course, it was only through Lyson’s support that he was in the senate at all and he had many ways to ensure that his two boys would not achieve the same success.


    “How would I go about joining the group then?”


    “Well, vote for abolishment today. Cast your stone into the pot and they’ll notice you. Then, I want you to keep an eye on them, go to their meetings and lunches. Endure their insufferable preaching on the rights of bastards and then, wait until one of them mentions something treasonous.Then we’ll have them all dangling from the harbour walls.”


    Rolan shuddered. Being thrown off Port Kaprea’s harbour wall,tied by your hands to a long rope, to be smashed against the wall by the waves,was not something he would want to risk.


    “And what’s in it for me if I do this?”


    “Well, I think a promotion of the highest order. How does Keeper of the Wines sound?”


    Rolan nodded eagerly, Keeper of the Wines was a very comfortable job, after all who wouldn’t kill to control the contents of Kaprea’s wine cellar?


    “Very well Captain, when the vote comes I’ll do it.”


    “Excellent.” Lyson laughed aloud as a servant popped his head round the door.


    “Captain Blackwaters, the Senate will be gathering in ten minutes.”


    Lyson stood up and drained his wine glass.


    “I believe that’s our deal complete. Now, I need to get ready for the Session, I do hope you go through with our little plan.”

    Rolan nodded and headed out, closing the door behind him. It appeared that his family’s neutral stance would have to be subverted in order to maintain their position. Still, he didn’t really think it would be such a difficult task.

    He turned right after exiting and headed towards two large open doors. Within lay the Senate chamber, on each side of the room lay three long benches. Of the 300 Senators elected every single year 150 sat in this chamber, the others being sent to govern the smaller holdings around Kaprea.
    It was still a tight fit with all the Senate there, like there would be today.


    A few Senators were here already, patiently waiting on the benches. With a sigh, Rolan heaved himself onto one of the benches. He was definitely passing his prime, sitting down was less easier than it had been five years ago.


    10 minutes later, the Senate hall was full, a bustling mess of old and young men alike. And they all fell silent as three loud drumbeats sounded from two drummers near the end of the hall, where there lay a large chair made of limestone. Next to it lay two other chairs made of granite. At the drumbeats, Lyson walked in through the door, heading up towards his chair. Behind him walked the Sword Master of Kaprea, Arnos Strongtide, he was in charge of Kaprea’s military. Next to him stood Wallos Sharpwind, The Sail Master, the leader of Kaprea’s strong navy.

    The three walked to their respective chairs, with Lyson sitting atop the Limestone Seat. The drums beat three more times, signalling the beginning of the session.

    “Members of the Senate. Let us begin this meeting with the vote proposed by Senator Stormsail. I see no need for a debate, as he placed his arguments quite extensively in an extremely long and tedious letter.”


    Burst of laughter echoed around the Senate. Lyson raised his hand and two servants carried in two wooden barrels. Behind them two others carried another barrel filled with pebbles.


    “We all know how this works, all those voting against this proposition place the pebbles in the box to your left. To vote yes, place the pebble in the barrel to your right.”


    The Senators filed down and grabbed one stone each from the barrel before throwing it into their chosen barrel. Rolan picked up his and stood in front of the barrels.


    What am I lettingmyself in for…
    he wondered as he tossed the pebble into the barrel on his right. From his position, it was clear who was going to win, the ‘No’ barrel was filling up fast, while the other barrel had practically nothing, in fact he heard the thump of stone on wood as his pebble went in. He wasn’t surprised,the radicals were called that for a reason; very few senators were willing to go as far as they were.


    The votes didn’t even need to be counted, Lyson simply looked inside the barrels and sat back down, a small smile on his face.


    “The results are clear. The motion is rejected.” With that a small murmur echoed around the senate and about ten or so Senators got up out of their seats and left the room. Apparently the radicals were disgruntled over the result.


    “Now, onto more regular business.” Various reports were read out on the state of the realm, particularly on the fate of Senator Cuell. There were several reports from several different places that he had set up shop as a bandit, one claimed that he’d become a local bard in a remote village and yet another claimed that he had fled to Amorta. The fact was that nobody knew where the man was and what he planned to do next.


    After four hours of discussing the various reports and some lively debate on the issues, Lyson raised his hand and three drumbeats sounded again.


    “Thank you all for your time gentlemen. We’ll meet again in three days time, for now be off and try to put the plans discussed today into action.” With that he rose and all the other senators began to file out of the room, discussing the events of the day with their neighbours. Rolan stroked his beard as he left, quite pleased with the day. Apart from the vote, things had gone as well as usual.

    As he left the Senate building and walked down its long steps, he was joined by a man with a long bushy black beard.

    “Ah, Senator Stormsail! Bad luck on the vote.”


    “That’s why I’m here to talk to you. I noticed that you threw in your lot with us, have you picked up our banner, joined our cause?”


    “Well, I must confess that young Caius being elected made me see that there wasn’t much difference between us and them.”


    We can still both hang
    he thought to himself.


    “I see. I’m having dinner tomorrow with a few of our loyal senators and I would be delighted if you came along.”


    “Oh, the pleasure would be all mine. Your house is on People’s Road, correct?” That was where most of the Senatorial families had their dwellings, Rolan himself owned property not too far away from there but the People’s Road was the home of thereally influential families.


    “Correct. I do hope you attend, I have something very special to show you all.” Stormsail nodded and headed away.


    Rolan turned away and headed down the steps, past the two giant statues that rose with the staircase, both of Blackgull, the founder of the Republic, whose Coat of Arms was adopted by the whole nation. He was holding a sword to the throat of a disfigured creature, which was supposed to be the Emperor . The story went that he forced the Emperor to recognise Kaprea as a state and then cut his throat in front of his son and the entire Amortan army, at the very gates of Amorta City.


    As he reached the bottom of the steps, he headed out into the busy Kaprean streets. Groups of sailors were wandering around after long and hard voyages. The backbone of Kaprea’s wealth was below sea level and ships journeyed around the nation, bringing in resources from the rest of Kaprea.

    Thesmell of fish reached even this far from the docks, and a stiff sea breeze filled Rolan’s nostrils. The Senate House, high above the bustle, didn’t
    get such a smell.


    He headed down the various streets until he reached his own,Swiftboat Street, named after his grandfather. That was one of the reasons he hadn’t moved to a place more suited to his family’s position, he simply was loyal to his family’s name. His house was built of stone bricks, painted over with a brilliant white paint. Two huge pillars stood before the entrance, with the doors standing near six foot tall, the house itself standing 3 stories high.


    He strolled up the steps and entered the house, entering agreat entrance hall with a huge staircase opposite the door. On either sides of the room lay two more doors, which led to the dining room and the servant’s quarters.


    As he entered, one such servant ran up. She bowed before him.


    “Senator Swiftboat! We had no idea you’d be back so early!”


    “Not a problem Mary. I’ll have some wine in my study in about an hour. Now, where is my wife?”


    “Oh, she’s playing with the two boys, Master.”


    “Thank you.” Logan smiled and walked past Mary, up the stairs, before turning left. There was a long corridor with three doors on either side. He entered the last of the rooms on the right and found his wife reading his two boys a story.


    “And the brave soldier and beautiful princess were married at last and all the land was at peace.” She smiled as she finished, before gazing at Logan in surprise.


    “Oh. Run along boys, your father is here.” They obeyed,giving their father a respectful nod as they left. He wasn’t really the hugging type when it came to children but he loved them all the same.


    “Back so soon?” his wife asked.


    “Business was short today. Thank Karm for that. Anyways Sora, I won’t be in tomorrow evening, not until late at least.”


    “Oh? Another dinner with Captain Blackwaters?”


    “No… with Senator Stormsail.”


    Sora furrowed her eyebrows.


    “What? Why would you go to dinner with that man? Doesn’t he want to make bastards superior to the rest of us?”


    “Something like that. Captain Blackwaters insisted that I get close to them. He wants the lot of them arrested for treason but unfortunately he needs that pesky little thing called evidence.”


    “That sounds dangerous…what if they find out you’re a spy?”


    “It won’t come to it. At least, I hope not. I just need to get some evidence that they are plotting against the Republic and then they’ll be arrested. No real risk really.”


    “Well…if you are sure about this.”


    “Thanks for your support, my dear.” Rolan smiled and kissed her on the lips, before drawing back and heading for the door.




    Righto, I finished this chapter a little while ago and was just touching it up a bit, so I feel that it's good enough to release. Also, this chapter does take place at the same time as Maurice's two chapters. Also, Merry Christmas.
    Last edited by Lortano; December 29, 2014 at 11:57 AM.

  15. #15
    Iron Aquilifer's Avatar Protector Domesticus
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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 6 29th December)

    Moar

  16. #16
    Shankbot de Bodemloze's Avatar From the Writers Study!
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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 6 29th December)

    This looks like a mightily impressive story to get my teeth into, looking forward to it!
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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 6 29th December)

    Fantastic experience!
    The Face of Murder

    "Have any of you ever felt your imagination going wild reading ancient lore?"

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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter 6 29th December)

    Chapter 7


    Chapter 7

    Maurice and Seamus finally came to a halt after close to five minutes of running as far away from the camp as possible. Seamus clutched his stomach and gasped out his breaths. Apparently running wasn’t his strong suite. Maurice leaned up against a tree; it had been a while since he’d had such a long run.


    He turned to Seamus, who was still doubled over, gasping.


    “Thanks for the help.”


    “I-it was my pleasure good sir knight.”


    “Ha. No such luck with me, I’m no knight.”


    “You fight like…one.”


    Oh, hold your tongue, idiot boy.” Archie’s voice sounded in Maurice’s head. He sounded irritated.


    “We never introduced ourselves properly…I’m Maurice, mercenary of peerless skill and looks matched only by my wit.”


    “I’m-“Seamus was cut off by Archie


    The feeble boy you see before you is called Seamus, and I am Archibald, Aspect of Conjuring.”


    “You have a very high opinion of yourself.” Maurice snorted. For a disembodied voice, he seemed far too confident.


    I have been carried by names famed throughout the land, mercenary. I have the right to be slightly proud of myself. Also, ‘peerless skill and wit?’ Was that sarcasm or is my sense of humour just higher than your own?”


    Seamus interjected,

    “Please Archie, let’s not upset our good friend here, we did just save him.”


    “You did and I am grateful for that. Now then, what can I do for you in return?”


    Seamus thought briefly, before a smile flashed across his face.

    “I want half of the treasure Archie pointed you towards.”


    Maurice fell silent. Granted, he had saved his life, but if the treasure did exist he didn’t really want to share it with anyone.


    “Hm…how old are you again?”


    “Eighteen summers, sir.”


    “If you asked me for a share in my coin at any other moment, I think that you wouldn’t make it to the nineteenth. Just a lesson, then you might reach as many as me.”

    Seamus gulped nervously.

    “As you did save me…I’ll give you a quarter of the treasure.”


    “A third.”


    “Don’t push me.”


    I’m inclined to agree, don’t push him.”


    “Were you supposed to let me know that you’re giving your host advice, Archie?”


    Archie said nothing else. Maurice imagined that he was feeling rather embarrassed about such a major mistake.


    “Fine, I’ll give you a third.”


    Seamus smiled and placed his hand out for a handshake. Maurice took it and shook it vigorously.


    “It looks like we have a deal.” Seamus said, with his smile widening. Maurice smiled back, before pulling himself closer and shoving a dagger close to Seamus’ throat. The smile instantly turned into a look of silent terror.


    “If I find that there is no treasure and that your Aspect lied…well…he’ll be looking for a new Host sooner than he hopes.” Maurice didn’t like threatening the boy, but he needed him to respect and fear him, if not, Seamus could come along and cut his throat as he slept.


    Seamus nodded slowly, but then he clenched his fist slowly. There came the sound of steel scraping from a scabbard and suddenly Maurice had a dozen hooded men around him, with drawn swords pointing directly at him.


    “One of your little conjurers tricks eh? These things are just smoke and dust, harmless.”


    Well the constructs are smoke and dust and are easy enough to kill, but I assure you that the weapons are deadly.” Archie spoke up.


    As if to prove the point, Seamus slowly raised his hand and brought it down. One of the constructs walked over to a nearby tree and struck it with his sword. It left a neat scar in the bark. Maurice’s eyes hardened.

    Maybe this boy is worth a little bit more than I thought…

    He lowered the dagger and stepped back. Seamus clenched his fist again and the men vanished into dust and smoke. Maurice would never show it in front of the boy, but he was shaken slightly that anyone could have such a hidden army up their sleeves. He sat down on a nearby tree stump and took off the sapphire necklace that he’d stolen. He’d hung it on his neck as they were running and he hadn’t had a good chance to look at it.

    The chain of the necklace was silver in colour, likely actual silver considering that Cuell was hardly the poorest man in the world. The chain connected to a circle of gold, inlaid with seven pearls in a circular pattern. And in the centre, a solitary sapphire, carved beautifully to fit the necklace. Maurice bit his top lip, as was his habit when thinking, as he ran his hands over the object. It was probably worth a lot of money and if there was one thing that appealed to Maurice, it was the glitter of gold. Still, he had to wonder what Cuell was doing with something so incredibly valuable just stowed away in a chest.

    As he sat there, he heard a hissing sound and he looked up. For a moment he wondered if Seamus and summoned his phantom army to kill him but then he saw him standing there, clutching a blade that shimmered with a purple glow.

    Maurice furrowed his eyebrows. This boy had more tricks up his sleeves than he imagined, though he knew that Archie was the real power behind the magic.

    “You know how to use that?” he called out to Seamus. Another sword to any group was always welcome.


    “Err….I had some practice.”


    He means that he used it to intimidate youths to get himself out of situations. He once tried to impress a young lady friend as well, but he accidently cut a hole in her clothing. That was funny; especially the part when she screamed and half the town chased poor Seamus for about a mile down the road.”


    Archie!” Seamus spluttered. “There’s no need to mention that!”


    “What? I thought this is what human fathers did to their sons, tell their friends all of their embarrassing tales. Or are you saying that you no longer want me as a father figure? You know, after you spent so long saying that you saw me as your father during the endless nights round the campfires?”



    “Be glad that you stay inside the stone Aspect, or I’d be tempted to kill you myself.” Maurice shook his head and laughed.


    But I’m nice and safe inside the stone, so I can really say what I like.”


    If I were you Seamus, I’d cut my own hand off and throw it into the sea. That might just get rid of him.” Maurice slowly drew his greatsword as he spoke.


    “Wait, what are you doing?”


    “You haven’t had much practice, right? Well, I’m not dragging you through Kaprea when your sole skill is to summon dust clouds to fight for you.”


    Seamus nodded slowly before raising the sword. Maurice stifled a laugh, he looked utterly off balance and his posture was all wrong. He could think of about five ways to bowl him off of his feet and make him look ridiculous.

    He swept forward, far faster than most would have expected and feinted high, causing seamus to flinch, expecting the blow to the sword, before diving low and shoulder barging Seamus’ chest. He went sprawling and Maurice simply placed his sword to Seamus’ back as he lay there, face down on the grass.

    Well that was embarrassing. I’ve had Hosts who could have flattened you, mercenary.”


    “Well it’s unfortunate that our friend here isn’t one of them.”


    My intuition rarely fails me, nearly all of my Hosts have grown up to become great men. In this case though….”


    “I’m right here!” Seamus grumbled as he pulled himself to his feet.


    “You’ll need a lot more practice, I’ve seen recruits in Carobar’s city guard who could swing a sword better than this.”


    “Are you sure? I won’t survive a day of this kind of beating!”


    “Then learn not to get such a beating.” Maurice shrugged and raised his sword again. Seamus steadied himself as Maurice rushed forward again, planning to go for the high feint and another shoulder charge. He feinted and then went low, but Seamus’ hand snapped open and Maurice smashed off what felt like a hard stone wall. He tumbled backwards, grunting as his sword fell from his hand.


    “What was that?” he demanded as soon as he’d shaken his head a few times.


    “Well it was-“


    The same concept behind creating a weapon out of thin air, only this time he created a wall of it. I do love people’s reactions when they find themselves fighting smoke and dust.” Archie interrupted, and Maurice could imagine him smiling smugly inside his little stone. He seemed to enjoy mocking mere mortals with his power.


    “That wall won’t protect you from an attack from behind. So what do you think we’re going to do next?”


    Seamus shoulders sagged.

    “More training?”

    “You bet your life there’ll be more training. And try any tricks like the wall again and I’ll make sure to swing extra hard next time.” Maurice growled and pushed himself to his feet. Next time they trained he’d make sure he had a tree branch handy so he could beat Seamus into shape without getting his sword dirty.



    Chapter 8 is being worked on, so hopefully that'll be up around the weekend.

  19. #19
    Alwyn's Avatar Frothy Goodness
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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter7 5th January)

    Impressively creative world-building and great writing!

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    Default Re: Empire and Republic (Updated Chapter7 5th January)

    Chapter 8
    Rolan hurried through the streets of Port Kaprea as the sun began to set over the mighty city. He’d been held up in an argument with an angry merchant over some lost cargo. Trying to explain that ‘Yes, I am terribly sorry about your cargo but how was I supposed to know pirates would attack it?’ had taken far longer than anticipated. Still, he’d managed to convince the merchant to talk to him tomorrow and then hurried off.

    Through the winding streets he went, overshadowed by the left flank of the hill that Senate House was built upon. The walls of that hill were steep, and the great steps at the front of the hill were the only ones that had ever been carved into the place. After all, the Senators didn’t want any drunken sailors sneaking into the Senate House and leaving a puddle of vomit on the Limestone Seat.


    Down the main streets he went, past shops that were starting to close for the day. And then, barely a few streets from his own, he entered People’s Road. The street was full of mighty stone houses, only the best for the top Senatorial Houses. The streets were lit by braziers on the corners, one of the few roads that was lit in such a way. It also happened to be one of the longest, stretching from the East Wall all the way to the cliffs that formed the natural West Wall.

    Rolan had made sure that he knew the actual house that Senator Stormsail lived in and checked with the Senate records that very afternoon. He was in for a long walk; it was almost halfway down the street, at least half a miles walk. Still, Rolan had spent a long time walking the Capitals streets and he was hardly an old cripple. Not yet anyway.


    He passed several Senators heading home. Some of them he acknowledged, some he even greeted with a smile and a compliment. Most of them were the heads of their houses, the patriarchs that held their family together. They also held the government up because it was the system of bribery that could only work with collective effort that could keep the senatorial families in power. Even thinking about it caused Rolan a headache. Perhaps that was why he had never bothered involving himself too deeply in the madness of Kaprean politics.


    Eventually he reached a three storey building coloured light blue. Next to the door, hanging on the front wall, there was a sign that had the emblem of House Stormsail, a lightning bolt behind a Kaprean Galleon. It was certainly striking and Rolan wished that there was an emblem for the name Swiftboat which didn’t look ridiculous in comparison. The door was a very expensive looking thing, a studded wooden door that looked like it would take a lot of force to break. Rolan stepped up and knocked three times.


    There was a moment’s pause and then the door was pulled open by a very small man. Rolan stared for a moment, before marching in.


    “Your hat sir?” the dwarf asked politely. Rolan removed his hat, a red hat made of cloth that he’d picked out for the occasion. He took it off his head and handed it to the dwarf. The dwarf bowed and then pointed to a nearby arch.



    “The master is waiting for you in there.” He turned away and headed away on his stumpy legs. Rolan headed through the arch and found Stormsail standing with his back to him, watching a group of people talking and drinking from small goblets.

    He turned to face Rolan as he entered.


    “Ah, welcome Senator Swiftboat!”


    “Interesting political talk going on here.” Rolan replied dryly. Stormsail laughed.


    “Well, there’s little point inviting people if you’re going to bore them senseless.”

    Rolan had to agree with that.

    “Go and mingle with the guests, introduce yourself to our friends and allies. I think you’ll find many of them to be…interesting.”


    Rolan nodded and headed into the room proper. A huge table lay in the middle with people around it, talking and laughing. Rolan took a goblet of wine from a table and took a sip. It had a good flavour too it, unsurprising considering that Stormsail had sailed several of his family’s trading ships.


    Rolan took the opportunity to look at some of his esteemed colleagues. A old woman was busy cackling, she looked more like a bag of bones with the skin hanging off her face. Even so, Rolan felt his grip tighten on his goblet. She was Karla Blackgull, descended from the Founder himself. According to what he knew she was originally married off to her cousin as a politically arrangement, but after her husband suffered an awful accident and ended up crippled, she quickly filled his shoes. Some whispered that she helped him on his way to his accident and then helped him on his way to Karm’s Court….personally.


    Her dominance over her family was legendary. Her own sons referred to her as ‘madam’ in her presence. Rolan remembered his own father going off to visit her once and coming back with a hoarse voice and no hat, as though he’d left in such a hurry that he’d forgotten to take his hat with him. No wonder he’d only mentioned her in passing after that day, and even then only as ‘the Blackgull woman.’


    He recognised several other senators from around the senate, but he was interrupted by a small cough from beside him. He turned his head to see a pretty young lady staring inquisitively at him.


    “New here as well?” she asked, her voice tinged with the common street accent of Kaprea. Rolan took another sip of his wine, he knew exactly who this woman was. To senators who weren’t especially good at hiding their anger she was known as ‘Caius’ Whore’. Rolan didn’t know if she was actually that to Caius or something else, but he did know that she had been lifted out of the gutter by the bastard and given a place in his house. Her name was Elesia.


    “Aye, though I am surprised that you haven’t been here before considering your….how would you refer to Caius?”


    “He prefers ‘consort’.”


    “Considering your…consorts current status.”


    “He strictly told me not to get involved in anything like this,” she gave a little laugh.

    “I think that even he knows that I don’t follow his orders like a loyal dog.”


    “But surely such complex politics are no place for a pretty young thing such as you.”


    “Surely telling me what I can and can’t take an interest in is not for fat old men such as you.” She responded. Rolan’s eyes immediately moved to his gut. He was painfully aware of how it had expanded in the last decade..


    “Clever. Caius has taught you well.”


    “He says that I’m a good learner.” She smiled at that. As though reminding her of Caius made her very, very happy.


    Rolan fell silent and gazed among the rest of the group. There were now about two dozen people there, most of them senators, though some rich looking merchants were also there. Stormsail stepped into the middle of the crowd and tapped a spoon on his goblet. The room fell silent almost immediately.


    “Thank you all for coming. Today’s meeting will be on planning for the next set of elections in eleven months’ time. I know many of you are seeking re-election, or trying to enter the senate for the first time, so we will need as much of your support as possible to win these elections.”


    He can’t be seriously thinking of taking on Blackwaters in an election?
    Rolan couldn’t believe anyone would try it. Blackwaters hadn’t made Senate Leader three times out of luck; he controlled a group of money makers and senatorial families that stifled any form of electoral opposition.


    Stormsail gestured towards the table and everyone took their seats. He took his seat at the head of the table, while Rolan sat down near the centre, opposite Elesia.


    “Now. The question here is simple. How do we undermine Blackwaters enough to split his election winning alliance?”


    “Easier said then done.” Karla Blackgull spoke, sitting at the other end of the table. “That man has merchants that have more money than all of us combined. Half of them also dabble in piracy as a little side business. They make me look like a disinterested housewife.”


    There was muttering up and down the table. Stormsail chuckled and the muttering stopped.


    “Piracy my dear? Perhaps you don’t quite know how my family got their name, but we do not fear pirates. Let me come up with a way to deal with them. As a clever woman yourself, how would you go about destroying an unbreakable bond?”

    The old lady gave a toothy grin that shook Rolan to his core.

    “I’m glad you asked, Stormsail. Now, we suggested the vote that we lost yesterday for one major reason. Blackwaters thinks that we blew our chance for this year and that it shows we are becoming desperate. It wouldn’t surprise me if he were sending spies to try and root us out so we can’t inconvenience him again.”


    Rolan kept a straight face, but his heart began to pound in his chest. If they knew…


    “So, the next stage is simple. When an enemy feel at their most secure is the time to strike. The backbone of Blakwaters ‘campaign has always been his money. He can be beaten with speeches and policies but while he controls a large amount of money he is untouchable.”


    Rolan spoke up.

    “So, you suggest murdering his merchant allies?”

    Blackgull laughed.

    “You do remind me of your father, Swiftboat. A strong backbone, but very little in here.” She tapped the side of her head.

    “No, killing them would just leave their wealth to another puppet of Blackwaters. We need to drive a wedge between him and them, if they believe that he can no longer protect their interests, they’ll come to us.”


    “And how do you suggest we do that?” Rolan said, stroking his beard.


    “The usual tactics really: Looting their warehouses in the dead of night, loading their barrels of valuables with and letting them transport it away none the wiser and my personal favourite, kidnapping.”

    Stormsail furrowed his brow.

    “Kidnapping? And how exactly would that make them want to get closer to us?”


    “Because doing so means that they won’t have to get closer to me and my grandson Korlo. Poor lad, completely and utterly stupid but he can cause pain to parts of your body that should never be forced to feel such pain. Trust me, give me one night with a merchant and he’ll be begging to join this little group.”


    “I don’t know, Madame Blackwaters, it sounds remarkably close to treason to me.” Rolan pointed out. It wasn’t quite treason but Lyson had quite the way with twisting the truth to be painful for those caught in the lie.


    “You probably don’t know this Swiftboat, considering how long you have spent keeping out of these issues, but if you don’t risk everything, you will fail. Winners write history, and I fully intend to live long enough to write about the day Lyson Blackwaters was soundly thrashed in an election that he rigged!”


    There was a cheer from around the table and Stormsail smiled broadly. Rolan himself sat deep in thought. On one hand he had a job to do and Lyson had always supported him in his elections. On the other hand…fulfilling something his grandfather and father never could, to sit the Limestone Seat. He began to think, his brain whirring like it hadn’t for a long time, of plans, plans to help this little group win and place himself in a position to win without being in debt to Lyson.

    Stormsail stood up.

    “The general outline of a plan that may or may not work has been decided upon. Madame Blackgull and I will continue to work out the detail, in the meantime the rest of you head on home and plan speeches and anything else that we can use against Blackwaters. Goodnight to all of you and long live the republic!”


    The group muttered ‘Long live the Republic' and each took a sip of wine.



    I had fun writing this chapter (Though I must concede that I only thought up the Kaprean plotline a week or two ago.) I was surprised by how much I managed to write (About 200 words)
    Last edited by Lortano; January 11, 2015 at 05:57 PM.

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