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 Posted: Mon Dec 28, 2009 12:49 pm
A man whom can conquer his fear can strive to conquer the world.>x-General Caesar-x< It would have been a dark and stormy night if this wasn’t the wintertime, but the air was cold and it just so happened to be that time of the year where there was snow instead of rain. One would be more accurate to say that it was a ‘dark and blizzard-filled’ night. Footfalls of many armored feet, horse hooves, and even the claws of wyverns (whom were kept in special armor so they wouldn’t lose their heat, being cold-blooded steeds as opposed to the warm-blooded horses) making prints in this snowy night, where the clouds covered the moon and all that could be seen for miles around was the stark contrast of the white ground and the very dark sky. In this blizzard, it didn’t take much to tell that this was an army marching on its campaign.
At the head of the army, composed of many soldiers of all different kinds of fighters for ground and air… there stood a leader whom was proud, tall, and noble. He was a man whom had many victories in the past, thanks to his commanding presence and strong skills in the weapons he used as tools of war. Like all the others who followed him, this man was a soldier before all else, and would lead his Legion behind him towards a path that would ensure victory for them and glory towards his country. The soldiers’ leader went by the name of either “General” or “General Caesar”, nothing more, nothing less. Most who followed him, especially the six Captains who were closely behind their commanding officer truly respected Caesar for being a military mastermind: able to overcome any obstacle to his ultimate goal: being the greatest squad that ever lived, and becoming immortal through the songs of the bards forever.
Just recently, Caesar’s beloved nation had entered a sort of alliance with a powerful ally, Dohlr. They were said to be ruled by the dragons of the oldest legends in the land, the very same ones that the Hero Anri purged from the world forever. It had to be a myth that they were dragons, but this new ally of Archanea had just as good of track record as any when it came to winning wars. They sought to squash all those whom opposed them, and give praise to all whom joined their cause to become the best empire that ever lived.
For the sake of Dohlr, their powerful ally, and their homeland Archanea, Caesar and his troops marched forward. Before, they’d treaded through rivers, weathered thunderstorms, and hidden in the plentiful forests of their world and faced overwhelming numbers and odds before. Going through this blizzard seemed like a picnic. Up ahead soon would be a tunnel, where his and many other squads would seek to stomp out the only country resisting the ever marching momentum of the Dohlr Alliance. Orleans had been an eyesore for quite a while, for the country had crusaders from within: the Altean Prince and his infamous cavalry. When Caesar and his Archanean Legion were the first ones ordered to go through the tunnel and try to catch these ‘heroes’ off guard at night, he couldn’t be more satisfied. What greater glory than to smash Prince Marth and his pathetic sense of morality to pieces? This General could find none.
Further marching brought them to the cave entrance that would lead his Legion’s march to immortality forever within the bards’ music. “Keep your formation! Remember, when we reach the other side, we show no mercy to the Altean Prince and his band of misfits! Let us show him that there is no ‘heroism’ in this world, but only two kinds of soldiers…” He made a dramatic gesture towards himself, the six leaders who kept on pace with him, and then the rest of the enlisted men and woman under him. “There are the victorious…” And then he made a fist, punching it in the air towards the tunnel. “And there are the defeated, who believe they can change the world, sleeping soundly on the other side of Orleans’s great mountain tunnel! Let us show them the one rule in this world, that all will fall to that which is greater!”
Cheers came from the soldiers, even though they were long exhausted from the march to these mountains, the only barriers from them and their ultimate goal of being even greater than the young Camus and his Sable Order. Caesar loved hearing them cheer. Having good morale amongst his troops was half the battle the military leader, knowing all too well that low spirits meant even less will to fight. At least, with being a great public speaker, he knew that those fears wouldn’t be something he’d have to worry about.
More footfalls were heard, as the Legion marched faster. They made sure to get into the proper formation as they entered the tunnel, and were careful to light the torches in case an ambush awaited them. So far, so good, the coast was clear. On the other side would be the Altean Prince’s encampment, and Caesar’s ticket to unending glory. He turned around one last time to give a nod to the officers amongst his company: Beatrix, Felix, Lancelot, Esmerelda, Antonio, and Milan. There was to be no holding back now. Gripping his steel axe, Caesar gave the order to charge, and lead his soldiers through to the other side.
This war was about to be over. This obstruction to Archanean power was about to be crushed, and Caesar and the Legion’s place in literature was about to become solid. All of this could have happened, but then a light flashed before both the General and his followers. For a few seconds, the Caesar shielded his eyes, and when he opened them again, the surroundings were… not as he expected. There were no Alteans camped out here. The familiar mountains that marked this area of Caesar’s map were nowhere to be seen, and for miles around… all he observed were trees.
Trees. As far as Caesar knew, Orleans didn’t have any trees until the very end of it! This was black magic at work… or something. Had the sorcerers of Khadien been fooling around again?! They’d hear from him in due time, but now, the more daunting question just had to be asked. “Where… are we?”
« ● ● ● ● ● ● »
All will fall to that which is greater, this is an inevitable truth.
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Posted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 6:12 pm
 •~•~•
The air was cold, and the falling snow would be enough to slow most travelers. On this night, however, the General's army marched on, the burning flames of war and passion more than enough to warm their limbs and fuel their steps. The Dohlr Alliance was readying itself to sweep the entire continent, and it would be for the better, to boot. One unified alliance was much more efficient than multiple coexisting countries, right?
It was only a shame that this Prince Marth found something inherently wrong with wanting to join all of the countries under Dohlr's alliance. The tan-skinned Archanean would have preferred a more... peaceful resistance, but that little blue-haired boy just insisted on fighting back.
So be it. She had more than enough arrows to spare.
Esmerelda tightened her grip on her bow as she raised her gaze to the General's face. The cold wasn't the only reason she shuddered then as he spoke, powerful and commanding. He was just the kind of man to demand respect, not just request it, and respect she had to give. She cheered along with her fellow warriors, shaking her shoulders to knock the excess snow off of her traveling cloak.
That coming dawn, this battle would end. Esmerelda was almost disappointed, really, at a sneak attack leading to the end of their battle, but in the end, there were only those that won, and those that died.
Esmerelda stuck closer to the others as their march continued on, starting into the long, long tunnel that lead past the edge of Orleans and towards the heart of the large country. She couldn't help but give a faint half-smile towards the General, then turned her odd-colored eyes back ahead, to the slowly-approaching light at the end.
It was surprising, then, as the light suddenly brightened and solidified as they began to emerge. The Sniper shrieked involuntarily, throwing one arm over her eyes. She could feel a harsh wind whipping around her as the light began to die away from her eyes. When Esmerelda's arm lowered again, moving immediately to her bow, the entire landscape around them was not the same.
There were no mountains. There was only grass and trees, off in the distance. Lots and lots of trees. The wind was still thrashing around her, powerful and constantly shifting, and before she could realize what had happened, her cloak's clasp had come undone in the wind. The heavy grey fabric fluttered away, soaring high up into the air and off to the east. Esmerelda simply let it blow away, deciding it wasn't worth it to chase after a simple cloak, taking in her surroundings. The sun was shining overhead, yet there had been a blazing blizzard just moments ago... (That didn't exactly stem the cold much, though; Esmerelda struggled to keep from quaking in the strong, chilled wind.)
"Well... clearly we aren't in Orleans, but where beyond that... I haven't the foggiest, General," Esmerelda responded quietly. She kept her bow ready at her side, clasped in her right hand. She reached her left hand to the quiver across her back, readying her fingers over the fletching of a single arrow. "I think the most important question is whether or not this is hostile territory, General."
•~•~•  My answer is...
→I will always be here.←
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Posted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 9:58 pm
╚ Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. ╗ Antonio Strategy: The science or art of employing the means of war in planning and directing large military movements and operations.
Tactics: The science or art of disposing military or naval forces and maneuvering them in battle.
The difference? Strategy is an overall plan of action, while tactics are the smaller actions made to ensure the success of the strategy. Utilizing these will bring about definite results, and utilizing them well will give you the advantage. The Archanean legion under General Caesar's command had both, and they were being well used. For serving under the general was one of Archanea's top tacticians. He was young, and because of that was not taken seriously, upon his entrance into service. Soon enough, however, he proved that his age was irrelevant. He worked hard to get to his position and made sure he was up to date on his studies. Among his troops, he is revered as the Frigid Tactician. Among other battalions, he is called the hailstorm, for they find him to be cold and harsh. He cares not about names however, and remains focused on his duties. His main duty was to end the war.
As Antonio marched forward, he kept running the plans he had made through his head, double and triple checking to make sure he had made no error in his calculations. The slightest room for mistake could ensure that this Marth would be able to escape. Many had taken this person for granted, but Antonio was not so quick to underestimate his enemy. His plans were sound. Very soon, Archanea would be victorious.
The group made their way through the cave, and all was going well. Suddenly, a blinding light came forth and wind arose. Antonio heard the scream of a familiar female, but before he could do anything, everything was once again calm. He opened his eyes, after being forced to shut them, to find that they were no longer in the cave. It was a field, and there were many surrounding trees, all covered in snow. It was windy, but the weather was still rather peaceful, unlike what it had been outside of the cave. The landscape did not match the map. Antonio had no clue where they were. The tactician found himself dumbfounded, for the first time in a long while.
He did not know how to answer the General. He never made assertions without a confident and rational basis behind them. All he knew was that his plan to defeat Marth was somehow foiled by an unknown force. Antonio clutched the magical book he carried and gazed at the white blanket laid out before them all. He could not help but slip out a whisper to himself, despite thinking that talking aloud to oneself was pointless. "What is this magic...?" [A hailstorm approaches] ╚ Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat. ╗
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Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2009 6:08 pm
Lo there, do I see my father,
Lo there, do I see my mother, my sisters and brothers,
Lo there, do I see the line of my people, back to the beginning
Lo, they do call to me, they bid me take my place among them.
Beatrix ------------------- Captain Clouseau trotted into the cave on her lovely white stallion, who on this occasion of battle war blue bows woven into his mane, as opposed to the usual deep royal violet his rider preferred. Beatrix sat high in her saddle and marched out ahead of her squad-- bishops, valkyries, mage knights, sages, hand-picked for their skill and power. And all rather conspicuously attractive.
Beatrix Clouseau primped and preened as she rode through the dark, following the torches ahead and behind, and after a moment's frustration, she picked up her own staff and lit the cave rather brightly with a light cast from the tip. And this, she used to adjust her cloak. She carefully put the Torch staff away, and with the light following over her head, she picked up a small, flat round box with a hinge on one end and flipped it open. "Hmm," she sighed, leaning down to peer closely at the mirror on the inside. Satisfied that the small amount of sleep she'd recently gotten hadn't left her looking unpleasant for the battle, she flipped it closed and pulled her top up a little, then gently took hold of her plentiful breasts and adjusted them to expose a little more cleavage. "There we go," she murmured, giggling. "That's better."
A second later, she grabbed onto her steed's neck as it reared back in response to a bright and blinding flash of light. She shrieked for just a moment, burying her face in his mane, and when he had settled, she found she had to adjust her shirt all over again. Bothersome inexplicable lightning flashes inside caves.
She shook her hair out a bit and called her unit along after her toward the exit of the cave, and the gentle bounce of her steed caused her assets to jiggle pleasantly, much to the tired delight the troops as they emerged. General Caeasar may have been a fine public speaker, but there was another thing that kept morale high: Captain Clouseau's morning jogs.
Her brow began the semblance of a furrow as she looked around sharply in confusion. "Huh? Where are the Alteans? And they like... really fixed up the place," she added, looking around at the trees. "Got rid of those ugly old mountains, brought in some trees... I mean, it's really wonderful landsc-- wait," she said, as her mind caught up with her mouth, "We're lost." She pursed her full and luscious lips, then gently patted her steed's neck. "Horsie, relax," she unnecessarily told her now grazing mount, "This will all be fine." She tugged the reins gently and guided her mount to turn around so she could face her squad. "Okay... just, uh, sit tight, guys! I'm gonna go talk to Cae-- the General!" she called to them, waving.
Horsie rounded the ranks at a quick trot until she met her fellow officers. "Okay, so like, there was this nasty flash, I don't know if you all saw it but it really hurt my eyes, um... But yeah, it was pretty bad. So what's, uh, what's going on here, are we lost or something? 'Cause you know, I was gonna take a couple of cute prisoners, maybe, but if I don't get to I'm gonna have to settle on you guys for eye candy and honestly that's just been getting kinda boring you know?" She scratched her ear and blinked as she felt something move in her hair. "Wha...?" She turned her head, rather ineffectively, to try and see what it was, then shrieked and shook it wildly until a little black spider landed on the saddle and crawled onto Horsie. "EEEEYAAAGH! A-Antonio, C-Caesar, there's a sp-sp- just kill it, get it, kill it get it awaaaaaay!" she wailed, apparently trying to climb off her saddle onto Horsie's neck. To his credit, the horse sat there and took it, but he was fairly used to this by now.------------------- -jiggle-
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Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2009 9:40 pm
LANCELOT The General was always an intelligent man- but leading them into a tunnel had left the Wyvern Lord understandably ill at ease. Kept grounded by the blizzard, his mount groaned even as she plodded faithfully forward, her tail sweeping the snow with every step forward she took. Her armor, coated in white snow and inlaid with silks to trap the heat, did nothing to assure the mighty beast that she was at all safe- quite to the contrary. Her eyes moved up, and she swung her head frequently from side to side to make sure that none came at her from overhead.
If there was anything she'd learned in war, it was that the most dangerous foes were not the arrows that littered the skies when her belly was exposed to them- it was the flying opponents that somehow managed to fly above her. Nothing was more deadly than a dive from above- and she had been bred from the finest stock to withstand the thin upper atmosphere to better allow her to catch lower units unawares. While on the ground, however, she was just as vulnerable as the horses that she often helped defend from the skies. She grunted her displeasure, and her rider's hand patted on her side.
Caesar's words didn't fall on deaf ears, but neither did he bother to respond to them. It was bad luck, after all, to simply announce that they were going to win before entering into the fray. Bad karma to simply assume that they were able to wield their lances and axes to an assured victory, as arrogance was often the Goddess's way of figuring out who not to favor with luck.
Mordred puffed her chest out and hissed audibly, opening her mouth and swinging her head from one side to the next as the flash of light overcame them. It took some coaxing to get the wyvern to stop her instinctive flashing- as it looked not unlike a Light spell- but it took none to get the wyvern to charge out from these cramped quarters.
At the sudden exposure to warm sunshine, Lancelot balked visibly, holding his wyvern's reigns as she raised her head in challenge, clearly ready for war. The warm rays were a smooth caress against her scales, and she could feel her blood begin to warm ever so slowly. She heard nothing of the horses she expected, and no sound of clambering steel as men readied their arms. Her rider was just as nervous, though he hid it behind a steely grimace.
"...This isn't Orleans. And I can't take to the sky until Mordred warms. This bodes ill, I tell you." Turning his head in time to see Beatrix flail and scream, Lancelot's eyes widened and he waved off the potential help.
"If that spider's from here, don't kill it! Until we know what we're dealing with... It's very bad karma to kill a local life until we know where we are."۞ Luck be a Lady ۞
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Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2009 11:33 pm
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Felix~ ﻬ~The Cerulean Champion
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯⋟
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Among the Archanean Legion’s units, a young man with royal blue armor rode onward upon a proud ivory steed. Looking at the details of his appearance, one could tell that he was a high ranking officer; a captain to be more precise. Being completely honest, Felix didn’t care much for titles. He had his subordinates address him as "sir" or just "Felix" depending on the situation. He believed this created a personal bond with his squad of cavalry. The paladin only wore this cobalt armor because it was a uniform that tied him to his homeland’s military and a symbol of his loyalties.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Deep snow slowed down Felix’s mount. "Come on, Joel! We’re falling behind! This isn’t like you. Move faster," he said to his horse. The white beast picked up his pace at his rider’s command as soon as they reached the cave. As he gained some speed, Felix tightened his grip on the Brave Lance in his left hand. An important battle was about to commence. Archanea’s swiftest duo had to be ready. General Caesar’s gallant words echoed in the soldier’s head.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Suddenly a bright light flashed and blinded the horseman. "What the?!" As he muttered those few words, Felix heard feminine shrieks come from his comrades. Were they under attack? Did the enemy ambush them? What the heck just happened? Slowly his vision came back into focus. Looking around Felix noticed their surrounds were not the same as they had been before the intense shine. "Heaven’s greener that I thought it would be," he thought after assuming the sudden unfamiliar change in settings meant everyone somehow died ...all at once …from a single light attack.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Artists often depict the great beyond as a cloudy paradise, but this place was just a wooded plane. Trees covered the horizon. The visions of hundreds of brilliant painters couldn’t possibly mistake the beauty of the divine realm. Felix patted himself and Joel with his free right hand just for good measure. "Oh good," sighed the paladin out of relief. "We’re not ghosts."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~≼______________________________________________________________________
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Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2010 11:14 am
Milan Johannsen
The Silent Blade
____________________________________________ Milan paced in silence, the enchanted sword at her side shining a pale glow as it reacted with the chilled temperatures around her. Unlike the others, she saw no point in commenting upon the surroundings, no point in speaking to the others. She was respected (and somewhat feared) for her stoic façade and her tendency to be a woman of very few words. She spoke only when necessary, either to respond to an order or to put an ally at ease or an enemy to dread. It was a trait that worked quite well in her favor; speaking rarely allowed her words to have far more of an impact when she actually used them than the words of those who simply didn't know when to shut up. A case in point: that Beatrix Clouseau, whom she respected for her position and her ability, but didn't particularly like for her mouthiness and her...endowments. Perhaps it was simply the swordmaster intellect she had; you made things work in your favor so they wouldn't become an inconvenience later. But each to her own, she supposed. She pulled the cloak that was wrapped around her lithe form closer to herself to shield from the frigid air, and continued.
So on she strode, pausing only a moment to shield her eyes from the flash that had enveloped the company. While everyone gazed around, bewildered, commenting upon their surroundings, Milan simply glanced around, remaining silent. Trees? Here? This isn't correct... Orleans was a land of mountains and formidable defenses, and few trees. This was forested, flat terrain. It didn't add up.
She took the lead to assume a side by the General, pausing only as she passed Esmerelda to remove the cloak from around her and wrap it around the shivering sniper's shoulders. The cold seemed to leave Milan unfazed, even with the thin clothing she wore. The valkryie was making some sort of fuss about a spider, the situation of which was not anything new, and the dragon knight was exercising his extreme superstition once again. The members of this company are insufferable sometimes... But they were here for their talent, as intolerable as they could be at times. She respected her leader's decisions. Caesar had not led them wrong yet.
"General," she spoke in a low tone, inaudible to the others, "I believe the others may be correct about our surroundings." She glanced around once again. "I have studied the maps for as long as you have, and this is unfamiliar territory. I shall move forward to survey our surroundings, if you so command." She drew the enchanted blade from its sheath and held onto it, the blade of the sword pulsating a gentle frigid blue in the chill air.____________________________________________
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Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2010 11:48 am
A man whom can conquer his fear can strive to conquer the world.>x-General Caesar-x< They were in another land entirely than the one that they were meant to march to. Caesar didn't need a map to tell him that it wasn't the end of Orleans that he was supposed to cross into. He shared his subordinate, Felix's relief that they weren't all suddenly dead. While great Generals were remembered, it was their follies that would make them permanent stains in a country's history. Caesar wouldn't live (or die) with himself if he did something to get his entire legion killed. "We are alive, Felix... he answered his fellow patron in the arts first. "And whatever magic that was, it doesn't appear to have harmed anyone."
The ranks were in-tact, despite Lancelot's suspicions and Beatrix's overreaction to a mere spider. The General picked it up, but was sure to just let the pesky thing escape, as to not make the Wyvern Lord start accusing him of bringing the company bad luck. Antonio was calm, as usual, and this was good for Caesar's sake. He needed his tactician to be collected in times where there was uncertainty, it meant that their next move could be decided wisely.
His bodyguard and assassin, Milan spoke to him in the hushed tones. He too kept his voice low when he talked with her, because it just seemed appropriate to do so. "That would be wise of us to send a few scouts. I want you to stay beside me, however. Felix and Lancelot, along with their units are mobile though. I'll give the order."
"Everyone, it appears as if some unknown magic has taken us to another location! Fear not though... our mobile scouts will see if it is safe for us, and if not, we will simply do as we've always done: we will conquer all before us! Our Motherland cannot be far, we must still act in the name of Archanea. Felix, Lancelot. Take some of your best and go ahead. Take caution in these new surroundings." He gave the orders to two of his Captains, feeling that being a strong leader in times of uncertainty was a definite requirement. There were a lot of Enlisted men here, more than the officers, and definitely more than Caesar. Preventing disorder was a top priority, and making a glorious opportunity out of it was a close second. With these orders, he did both.
« ● ● ● ● ● ● »
All will fall to that which is greater, this is an inevitable truth.
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Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2010 9:02 pm
 "I wouldn't go anywhere so hastily, if I were you."
If the Archaneans were to look immediately ahead, they would find a red-haired sorceress standing several paces off from the general. She was dressed as scantily-clad as ever, the mask perched in its usual position upon her face. Her blood tattoo seemed to shimmer ever so faintly as she stood with one hand perched upon a hip, watching the company. Her swords were nowhere to be seen, though one could assume that they were nearby. And though the Archaneans didn't know it, Razevi had a fair number of spells memorized that she could use if she needed them.
Of course, fighting was not the reason she had tracked the group down. She had sensed the disturbance from many miles away and, though she didn't know who would be coming through, she was confident that they would be able to assist her. At the very least, they would provide a diversion while she attended to some much needed business. Razevi really couldn't lose, any way the events folded out.
"As you may have noticed," she stated clearly as she sauntered towards Caesar, "You're not in Archanea anymore." Where she had stood, and around every step she took, the snow was rapidly melting, leaving leaf-covered ground in each step. As she drew closer to Caesar, and as he instinctively switched into a defensive stance, one could feel the sweltering heat surrounding the woman. Razevi appeared at home within the infernal aura.
"You're in an entirely different world, the name of which I shall spare you. But I will tell you that the name of the country you are now in is named Estarcia. Estarcia is a vile, evil land, ruled by despicable tyrants whose only desire is to oppress and crush those beneath them." She nodded and continued. "For many years, the poor people of this land have suffered the torture that their rulers have served upon them." She smiled and nodded weakly, adding a faint sense of innocence and despair to her words. They were all lies. Of course, they didn't have to know that, did they? There was only one matter that involved them.
"In the head temple of this country, there lies a sacred artifact. You may be familiar with it. Its name is the Fire Emblem. If you help me obtain this item, we can overthrow this horrible country and restore the rights that have for so many years been twisted and broken. And if you succeed, you may bring the item to me right here, where we stand." She raised a hand to the sky, and from her palm burst a plume of flame that rose into the sky and exploded into a fine circle of embers that circled safely around the group and settled upon the ground, etching a trail of ash around them.
"Bring me the Fire Emblem, and I can return you to your home."
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Posted: Sun Jan 03, 2010 10:43 am
A man whom can conquer his fear can strive to conquer the world.>x-General Caesar-x< If this sorceress that appeared before the General and his men was to be believed, they were in an entirely different world? While the mere thought of it was inconceivable to Caesar, what else explanation was there? The surroundings were different, there was that strange flash of light... magic. With that mysterious force at work, anything was possible. Being in another world, even.
The land of Estarcia, and the way Razevi described it sounded like so many of the other nations that Caesar and the Legion brought down with their might. They were those whom abused the common man, and left him nothing more than the clothes on his back and no pride to show for himself at all. While Caesar was a noble, he had respect for those whom were below him in both military rank and social status. It was sometimes in the depths of poverty where you found the soldiers whom fought the hardest, because their name, their country, and their armor were all they had.
"And then there comes nations like this "Estarcia", the barbarians, who go and treat these people worse than the animals they use to do work. There is no excuse for this.
"Listen, my soldiers!" Caesar begun, addressing the Legion as a whole in another of his hopefully motivational ways of words. "A citizen, a sorceress has informed us that we have come into another world! However... we are not stuck here. There is a way home, but the heathens that step on the rights of the common man are guarding it! So, before is a campaign much like the others we've fought before... for liberty... for justice... and now, for our way home! The oppressive kingdom of Estarcia lie before us with our only way to return to Archanea and finish what we started!" He turned to face them, and then he said a declaration that meant there would be no turning back from this point forward. "The target we're aiming for... is the Fire Emblem!"
« ● ● ● ● ● ● »
All will fall to that which is greater, this is an inevitable truth.
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