Open Chronicles The Capitulation of Coraliv

[Harry]

In the moment that it took the rocks to hover, Hal crouched down and laid his palms flat on the cavern floor. A thin wall of ice was all that the boy could muster. It rose, though only slowed the rocks as they shattered ice. Hal raised his arms to his face as rocks pelted his kneeling form, denting the plate that covered his arms and legs.

A single rock, smaller than a balled fist, slipped between his raised arms and glanced his forehead, leaving a shallow but long gash. A river of blood quickly began to flow over his brow and down his cheek.

The apprentice rose and extended both arms in front of him, fingers splayed. A biting, frigid gust blew from his palms. The moisture that clung to the inner surfaces began to freeze, covering the cave in a thin layer of frost. The two in front would only feel a drastic drop in temperature, though Hal wondered if the one with a gaping hole in his head could feel anything at all.

Orbs of ice and snow swirled in his palms before exploding outward in a cold flurry of ice shards.

 

[Ademar Acero]

They would follow orders it would seem. There was a special place for the retreating mages and mercenaries that opposed them, and they would be brought for Naja to see what she wished for them to be done. Probably be executed in front of the city square, a task he would like to carry out.

They approached the city square with whatever men they had, obviously noticing the colors and banners of Anirians dominating against their opponents. Their enemy had heart, he’d give them that and they’d all fight towards an early grave of theirs. Most would surrender and hope to find mercy.

Then another quake of vibration as the buildings above them were shaking, and in doing so glass rained down from above. The vibrations stopped and Daria called to Ademar, gesturing towards a Dreadlord that was surrounded by enemy militia.

“Right,” and not being bothered by the blood spilled on him from the exploded soldier that charged at them. Magic began to enhance his body, mostly his legs and left shoulder that would be his instrument to smash into the ranks of militia surrounding the Dreadlord. He then charged, his feet stomping on the ground loudly from the magic in him. Enemy soldiers then looked at the behemoth, readying their spears at him. All futile as his body broke their weapons and found themselves crushed from his impact. He broke through their ranks as he was near the Dreadlord on the ground, mace in his hand that was prepared to clobber the militia soldiers.

 

[Talus]

The Red Ashes

The Archon watched as one of her ships was rammed by an Elven vessel, the prow of it dipping into the harbor and slowly falling into the water. Her lips thinned, and briefly she ran through the implications of what she'd just seen.

After a moment her head shook. "The Houses can deal with that."

She surmised with a bitter chuckle as she turned her attention back towards the city. Hundreds of Anirian Soldiers had already poured forth from the belly of their ships, thousands more to come over the next few hours.

The Milita that had been standing tall moments ago was now breaking, and in a matter of hours she would hold Coraliv. The Docks themselves were already secured, militia members surrendering and putting down their arms as they realized they could not beat the might of Vel Anir.

Soon the rest of the city would follow.

Cavern Entrance
Henry Bauer | Thronebreaker | Sierra

Talus ran as fast as the Anirian Knights with him would allow.

The small squad of impromptu relief moved through the city streets quickly, pushing civilians out of their way and cutting down any remaining militia that they happened upon. Fire had caught in some of the city center, and it seemed most of the fighting had now moved to protect the Palace district.

For the young Apprentice none of that really mattered. Coraliv had already fallen in his mind. There was an Archon in the city now, nothing would stop her. "There."

He pointed to the Guardsmen as he spotted the path to the caverns.

All of them quickly headed through, eventually happening to the half hidden entrance to the caverns that Sierra and He had discovered. Talus tightened the grip on his blade, the Anirian Knights knocking arrows and preparing their weapons.

"HAL! SIERRA!" Talus called out through the cavern as they stepped inside. His voice echoed and boomed.

It would alert any enemies, but he'd rather that than get a shard of ice through his chest.

 

[Sierra]

Stormy eyes narrowed in curiosity on that armored one. She’d thought the one up the stairs was formidable. Now him? He was powerful.

Back continued to press against the wall as the rocks shook around them. She took one step to her right and forward, quickly lining and firing an arrow at his armored form, going for the gaps between his armor around his armpit.

But rocks were swirling, hard to tell if her arrow would make it at all.

And the the rocks were exploding toward her and Hal. Feet tipped back into the only place she had cover. The water. She was wearing armor but it was lighter than Hal’s. She didn’t think it would stand up as well.

A few shards sliced across her neck and face before the dark water enveloped her. Before she went under, she heard the royals scream as they took the brunt of the attack meant for her. She briefly wondered if any of them would survive this.

Hands clawed at the rocky ledge, keeping herself from sinking. Head popped up. The air felt colder and she heard.

“Talus?!” She yelled. “Two magic users!” She warned.

 

[Rob Yew]

Ice shards shattered against Duvain's cuirass. An arrow zipped through the storm and slipped between pauldron and breastplate, sticking from his shoulder like an odd growth.

He did not seem to care.

A shout came from back up the cavern system.

The helmet creaked as it turned, twisted toward the noise, then back to stare at Hal.

"Duvain," cried the one called Galen, "The ships. We can make it to the ships with the royals."

The royals... Most were laying on the ground or curled into balls, trembling, one was bleeding from the forehead. In the distance, rocking on the water, were the ships. Two longboats sat in the water by shore.

The man who had once been Duvain did not feel any emotion. Not really. Ondina's spell had brought his body back to life, but his spirit had come back shredded. Tattered. The rage he should have felt at the sight of dreadlords, fellows to the ones who had killed him, seemed so far away. He reached for it, but it slipped through his fingers, leaving only the memory of hate.

He held onto that though. He held it dearly. He would not die here.

Not again.

Duvain stretched one hand out toward Hal and the other back toward the cavern's exit. The pelting rocks ceased to fly, but the cavern's roof began to tremble, then caved in with a rumble of falling stone, blocking off the reinforcements from reaching the two apprentices. For now.

At the same time, Duvain's will stretched out and wrapped around Hal's armor, then began to squeeze beneath telekinetic force as Duvain sought to make the metal squeal by bending it inward and crushing Hal with his own armor, starting with the greaves on his legs, the vambraces on his arms, and working his way inward.

 

[Harry]

Hal was unable to move as his armor crumpled in on his limbs. His legs gave out first as his chausses clamped down. He fell to his knees. Hal's arms, which had been extended, were now bent and twisted at the joints. The apprentice vainly struggled against the knight's magic, unable to straighten his arms.

Flesh began to tear as plate armor continued to crush down. A sharp gasp followed by a groan from deep in his throat escape his lips as he felt bone in his right elbow break under metal. Hal writhed on the ground, unable to even maintain an upright posture on the ground. His hands, covered only by leather gloves, laid flat on the ground. In a moment of desperation, his neck twisted up so he could see Duvain. Power coursed through his constricted arm, magic flowing like blood through his veins to the center of his palm that was pressed flat against the cavern floor.

Under Duvain, a ring of snow swirled. Hal did not have the presence of mind to shape the ice into a spike or anything that would do considerable damage. His intentions were to only distract the battlemage, if only for a moment. To buy time for Talus to come.

A pillar of ice rose from the ring, shooting from the magic circle up at an angle towards the knight's midsection.

 

[Talus]

The Caverns

Rock and boulders fell from the top of the cavern just as Talus crested a corner that would have allowed him to reach his friends.

One of the Knights grabbed him by the back of his armor, reaching out and snatching the young Apprentice to pull him back just as a huge stone fell where he had been standing. The clatter of debris and rock fell, closing the path between the reinforcements and the other Apprentices.

"SHIT!" Talus swore as he pulled himself free of the Knight, offering a terse nod of thanks as he glanced at the landslide now in his way.

His lips thinned, and he looked at the twelve men with him. "Clear this as quickly as you can. I'm going through."

"S-sir?"​

Confusion dawned on the Knight's face, the slash of color on his armor marking him as a sergeant. Talus did not answer, instead he waved him off and closed his eyes

A ghostly apparition parted from Talus' body. An ethereal copy of the young Dreadlord. It looked around for only one second, and then darted through the stone. For just a brief moment it stepped through the fallen rock, appearing directly behind Duvain.

The ghost hesitated, and then suddenly stabbed forward. His blade swept towards the undead titan, cutting towards the small gap in his armor at the crux of his shoulder.

As the ghost stepped forward to slice at the undead Dreadlord it seemed to snap to reality. Talus true form appeared where his ghost had been standing, his blade forming back into itself as it swept low at Duvain's shoulder.

 

[Sierra]

Who has the advantage?

The battle instructor hissed in Sierra's ear. In the practice arena at the academy there was a student fire mage and a water mage. Most people though the might of fire would take out the water mage. But water had the advantage every time.

Who has the advantage?

Water streamed with blood down her face. Duvain did. Probably even with Talus. Unless...

Hands scrambled on the rock as she pulled herself from the water. With one swift heave, she was behind the cowering royals. Behind the remaining cataphract. The knife slid easily into his neck and he went down. Sierra grabbed the strongest looking royal. A cowering young man. Arm wrapped around his head, locking him in place, the tip of her nipped into the soft skin at his neck.

She'd heard what the one up the stairs had said.

Get the royals.

"I'll kill this one. And the next unless you surrender. Or leave." Sierra's muscular and battle-toned arm kept her easy grip on the young man, who's eyes widened in fear. Her gaze and threat called out to Duvain and his friend.

 

[Rob Yew]

The pillar of ice smote Duvain in the breastplate with a resounding gong and sent him stumbling backward - directly into Talus' sword strike that crashed against his shoulder pauldron with unmitigated might. The metal dented and something cracked beneath the blow.

Duvain did not cry out.

A blast of brutal wind exploded from his left hand, intending to send Talus slamming into the cavern wall, while the fingers of his right continued to curl inward, crumpling Hal's armor like weak tin.

Suddenly, the female began shouting, threatening the royals. Metal creaked as Duvain cocked his helmeted head to one side.

Galen, wide eyed, saw what was about to happen. He'd seen it growing up on the streets before. Some people didn't care about self-preservation. They just cared about getting even, no matter the cost. Those were the ones you had to watch out for, the crazy ones. He could sense the same crazed attitude in this man, in the way he stood, in the way the fingers of his hands curled and uncurled.

"Wait!" the apprentice cried out. "We'll go. Duvain. Stop. This is our way out. We have to get them out."

He gestured at the wounded Kestral and Titian, arrows sprouting from their bodies as they lay panting on the cavern floor.

Dark blue eyes turned toward the girl. "Let them go. Let us leave. Titian, help me get the boat."

 

[Harry]

Hal was capable of doing little more than writing on the cavern floor. The knight's tightening grasp on his armor locked his limbs as armor continued to press down. Blood slowly seeped between some gaps in the plate. While Duvain did not cry out from Hal and Talus' combined assault, the writhing apprentice did. It felt as if something were about to irreparably break in his body when the pressure lightened. A gasp of relief escaped his lips. The negotiations between the young mage and Sierra fell on deaf ears. Hal only heard his own erratic breathing as he lay there incapacitated.

 

[Talus]

Talus went clattering against the wall.

The sound of his armor crashing against the wall was loud enough to echo through the cavern, his sword falling to the ground as he lost his grip. He could hear himself wheezing as the wind was knocked out of him, the young Knight falling to the floor with a thud.

"Ow." Talus said to himself as he reached out for his sword, feeling the ache in his back where his armor had been dented inwards.

Fingers wrapped around his blade once more as he heard the call of someone else from up the stairs. His gaze shifted, spotting the other mage that Sierra had called out about. His lips thinned as he brought himself to his feet.

He did not make a move, holding to the truce. Naja won't like this.

Talus thought to himself, knowing that the royals escaping would likely be frowned upon. The city would still belong to Vel Anir, but a great deal of it's money would be leaving.

Propoganda and politics meant nothing, but money? Money was always important.

 

[Sierra]

She watched. Muscles coiled and bound like a rathtik tiger. The flicker of stormy eyes spared a quick glance at Hal's floor-bound form. Jaw clenched as her gaze snapped back to Duvain and Galen.

She purposefully didn't look at Talus because she knew the Proctors or the Dreadlords wouldn't like the loss of the royals. But they weren't here.

She didn't think they'd like the loss of their top three most promising students either.

The royal young man whimpered in her arms. Her knife tip pricked against his throat, letting fresh blood stream down his skin. Greys locked onto those of dark blue of the foreign mage.

"Start moving. Toward the boats." Her free hand yanked the other royal roughly up, keeping a grip of steel on the woman's arm. She kept the other young man in front of her, arm wrapped around him so her knife tip remained in an easy-kill position.

She wouldn't hesitate in killing the young man she held. Or the woman. If Duvain or Galen tested her. It would be easy. And fast.

 

[Venanin Sen Shiir]

The most basic truth of magic was, you could not create something from nothing. And the greater the effect produced, the greater the cost. Venanin reflected on that truth as the enemy stepped over the corpses of their brethren that had brought the young dreadlord down. It was funny; shatter, as it was called, was easily one of the most powerful spells in an evocation mages arsenal, but it had made Ven weak for the next wave.

The arrows still bristled from Venanin's body as the enemy closed in. The small incantation Ven had begun had slowed the bleeding but it made the dreadlord weaker still. The apprentice began to push up slowly and was suddenly splatted with gore. For a moment the end of Venanin Sen Shiir flew through the young apprentice's mind.

"Not mine." Ven said as a hand wiped blood from a too pretty face.

Ven looked back and saw the armor and symbols of other dreadlords. Filled with pride, Ven pushed up to a knee and tried to stand. Venanin would not die, not here, not today. The Dreadlord apprentice was no longer alone.