O
Owen Mason
Owen lay in his bunk below deck. The swaying of the mighty warship, the Braun Virak, on the waters of the Cortosi Coast. The berth was tight and cramped. Bunks made to be lean and three high.
In his hand he held two dice. Shifted them around. Watched absently the different numbers as they appeared and disappeared with the motions of his hand and the dice themselves.
Today was the day.
The mighty force mustered by Vel Anir finally arrived at the island known as The Blades.
A large number of vessels carried the combined force of the Auxiliaries and the Anirian Guard, the total number around one thousand fighting men and women. And these vessels also had an escort from ships carrying no troops, but that came for protection and for the show of force. The Master of the Blades had crossed Vel Anir in so egregious a way that the only proper response was the iron fist of overwhelming military might. And the Houses of Virak, Weiroon, and in particular Pirian were all eager to unleash it.
Storied vessels all, these ships so assembled now in the vicinity of the island. The Braun Virak, the Mandred Weiroon, the Juliet Pirian, among many others. And the crews of these ships and the troops aboard all sought to add The Master and his forces as another accolade to the list.
Nothing less than total victory was acceptable. The landing and holding of the beach by the Auxiliaries, the formation and assault by the Anirian Guard, and the liberation of Kristen Pirian from The Master's capture.
All of Arethil needed a reminder of who the greatest fighting force in the world happened to be.
They would have it.
The journey had been long, even by boat. It spoke to the vastness of Arethil. But there in the distance now as she leaned with her hands against the railing she could see it. The island. The Blades, as it was called. All the tropical trees she'd not seen in the world before now. The large rising hill to the right of the beach. That point to the left and right of the beach where the island's namesake, the dark and jagged rocks lurking in the seawater, broke the surf and the white foam, splashing up in displays made tiny by distance but reflecting the noontime sunlight all the same.
She could almost see them. The fortifications of The Master's forces. Miniscule and faint, abnormalities in the treeline just past the beach.
And there on that island and hiding in that treeline and behind their defenses was her enemy.
The enemy of all Vel Anir at this instance in time.
And Elan was here to do her part.
For her city. For her home.
"Hey." Lienhard. His brother. He had the middle bunk, the one just above Owen's own.
"Yeah," Owen said.
"Nervous?"
"Caint reckon why I wouldn't be."
Lienhard leaned out over the edge of his bunk and down just enough to catch sight of Owen below. Smiled a bit. "I was nervous too, you know. Settin' out on my own back then. You know I vomited when I first killed a man?"
"Ain't why I'm here."
"I know, I know, I'm just sayin'. I didn't like it but it had to be done. Bandit, man." Lienhard shook his head and rolled his eyes a bit. "Like we ain't got enough monsters in the world."
"Guess Arethil rolled and came up short," Owen said. Eyes on the dice.
An upside-down nod from Lienhard, as it was from Owen's perspective. Lienhard said, "You take up gambling?"
"From time to time." And Owen looked to his brother. Smiled a bit too. "I may be in the middle of a war here without intent to kill anyone, but I figure jus' me bein' here gonna help someone live who otherwise wouldn't. And that ain't gamblin'. That's somethin' I know I can do."
A horn. The loud sound of it above deck. And indeed, the sound of other horns from other ships over the creaking of the wood and the constant splash of water against the outside of the vessel.
That was it. The call for the Auxiliaries to board the landing skiffs.
The time had come.
(((Thread is open to all)))
Xyrdithas Faerlin Selene Avar
In his hand he held two dice. Shifted them around. Watched absently the different numbers as they appeared and disappeared with the motions of his hand and the dice themselves.
Today was the day.
* * * * *
The mighty force mustered by Vel Anir finally arrived at the island known as The Blades.
A large number of vessels carried the combined force of the Auxiliaries and the Anirian Guard, the total number around one thousand fighting men and women. And these vessels also had an escort from ships carrying no troops, but that came for protection and for the show of force. The Master of the Blades had crossed Vel Anir in so egregious a way that the only proper response was the iron fist of overwhelming military might. And the Houses of Virak, Weiroon, and in particular Pirian were all eager to unleash it.
Storied vessels all, these ships so assembled now in the vicinity of the island. The Braun Virak, the Mandred Weiroon, the Juliet Pirian, among many others. And the crews of these ships and the troops aboard all sought to add The Master and his forces as another accolade to the list.
Nothing less than total victory was acceptable. The landing and holding of the beach by the Auxiliaries, the formation and assault by the Anirian Guard, and the liberation of Kristen Pirian from The Master's capture.
All of Arethil needed a reminder of who the greatest fighting force in the world happened to be.
They would have it.
* * * * *
Elan stood on the deck of the warship Juliet Pirian, near Boat One, the landing skiff she and the unit of Auxiliaries she was with would board.The journey had been long, even by boat. It spoke to the vastness of Arethil. But there in the distance now as she leaned with her hands against the railing she could see it. The island. The Blades, as it was called. All the tropical trees she'd not seen in the world before now. The large rising hill to the right of the beach. That point to the left and right of the beach where the island's namesake, the dark and jagged rocks lurking in the seawater, broke the surf and the white foam, splashing up in displays made tiny by distance but reflecting the noontime sunlight all the same.
She could almost see them. The fortifications of The Master's forces. Miniscule and faint, abnormalities in the treeline just past the beach.
And there on that island and hiding in that treeline and behind their defenses was her enemy.
The enemy of all Vel Anir at this instance in time.
And Elan was here to do her part.
For her city. For her home.
* * * * *
"Hey." Lienhard. His brother. He had the middle bunk, the one just above Owen's own.
"Yeah," Owen said.
"Nervous?"
"Caint reckon why I wouldn't be."
Lienhard leaned out over the edge of his bunk and down just enough to catch sight of Owen below. Smiled a bit. "I was nervous too, you know. Settin' out on my own back then. You know I vomited when I first killed a man?"
"Ain't why I'm here."
"I know, I know, I'm just sayin'. I didn't like it but it had to be done. Bandit, man." Lienhard shook his head and rolled his eyes a bit. "Like we ain't got enough monsters in the world."
"Guess Arethil rolled and came up short," Owen said. Eyes on the dice.
An upside-down nod from Lienhard, as it was from Owen's perspective. Lienhard said, "You take up gambling?"
"From time to time." And Owen looked to his brother. Smiled a bit too. "I may be in the middle of a war here without intent to kill anyone, but I figure jus' me bein' here gonna help someone live who otherwise wouldn't. And that ain't gamblin'. That's somethin' I know I can do."
A horn. The loud sound of it above deck. And indeed, the sound of other horns from other ships over the creaking of the wood and the constant splash of water against the outside of the vessel.
That was it. The call for the Auxiliaries to board the landing skiffs.
The time had come.
(((Thread is open to all)))
Xyrdithas Faerlin Selene Avar