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 Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2010 8:17 pm
Extended Scene
The Archanean Legion has assaulted Estarcia, targeting a northern fort by the name of Vajeh. They have seized this fort and made it their own. The commander, Ezekiel, has been sent to the wyvern lord, Lancelot, for interrogation. (Paggy help him) The remaining troops within the fort have been locked up, and their commander will soon be among them.
The Legion's tactician, Antonio, has secluded himself in an attempt to learn about where they are and form a strategy for them to achieve their goal. The remaining commanders go about their own business within the fort.
The camaraderie shall soon commence.
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Posted: Mon Jan 11, 2010 2:55 pm
 •~•~•
The day might have been cold, but the coming evening was even more so. Wearing Milan's borrowed cloak once more, the Sniper knelt before the fireplace within the large room and poked at the cinders, attempting to get the fire to chew at the newly-added logs. It was definitely a large room, enough for the Caesar's female Captains to all comfortably share, and a single large fireplace was going to have to work quite hard to heat up that whole space.
She rubbed her arms in silence after replacing the poker against its holding rack and settled into a sitting position a few feet away from the smouldering flames, legs crossing Indian-style. (Vaguely Esmerelda wondered what Indians were, exactly, and promptly swept the thought away.) She had changed into sleeping clothes by this point; even if some of the other members of the company might not share her view, she could never get herself to rest comfortably while wearing her attire from the day's work. Sure, her sleeping clothes often had to go long periods without proper washing (since when was a reliable source to wash your clothes and enough time to allow them to try available when you're marching?), but it was at least devoid of the wear, tear, and blood of battle.
As it was, now wearing a simple tank top and loose cotton pants, Esmerelda drew Milan's cloak around her more securely. Beatrix had gone to take a bath, perhaps, and she honestly hadn't the foggiest of where Milan had gotten to within the newly-claimed fort. Knowing her, though, she would simply pop out of nowhere within the next few hours as if she had been standing there all along.
The Sniper chuckled quietly, pushing her loose, tangled hair off of one shoulder, and picked up the poker again. She resumed her task of urging the fireplace into blazing glory, already feeling the chill of the evening air begin to rush away from her bare skin.
•~•~•  My answer is...
→I will always be here.←
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Posted: Mon Jan 11, 2010 3:30 pm
LANCELOT If there was one thing that Lancelot was certain of, it was that faith in humanity wasn't always misplaced.
The enemy commander had been brought to him at his General's orders, and there was an oddly unique sense of pleasure and spite that made the corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly. He'd removed most of his armor, though he kept his helmet and cape on- his dignity remained unsullied, due to the brown hemp undershirt and cotton briefs he wore, not that such things as frivolous as all that would've convinced him to do otherwise. He remembered with a laugh the one time he had taken his men out flying over the mountains, completely in the nude- they had pushed their wyverns too hard during practice flights, sending their mounts soaring into the frigid thin air and whipping them when their performance faltered. As an act of revenge- though he told Caesar and the others that the exercise was intended to acclimate them to the chilly winds- the men quickly realized that Lancelot wasn't a man to be trifled with. After that, none of the men dared take their wyverns up so high without their commander's orders.
The bond between riders and beasts had improved, if only because the wyverns had realized the meaning of the ploy. They'd been fed warm food for days to make up for the initial discomfort.
The last word made him pause, with the wyvern lord smirking as he leaned back against the door frame. Yes, yes, that was it- he would bring discomfort, only to metamorphose it into an even more biting taste when he brought this rogue under his control.
Esmeralda may not have been the only one to disapprove of his acceptance of traitors into his brigade, but it was her he thought of when he looked at the pyromaniac nestled uncomfortably into a wooden chair. Ezekiel's hands were bound tightly behind his back with braided chains- the small, interwoven locks that were braided together (after already having been hooked together like chainmail) were far more effective than the large, clunky, barbaric things that this castle had in its dungeon. The keep was ill-equipped for keeping men bound and held captive, seeming more suited for torture than for imprisonment.
"So. Mr... ah, what was your name, again? A bit hard to catch a name when half of my brigade goes crashing through your walls." Throwing a pinch of salt over his shoulder, Lancelot walked into the room after knocking on a wooden desk, coming to rest beside the large fireplace that burned brightly in the relatively dark room. Sitting just in front of it was a lone pot, hissing and popping- he listened carefully to those notes as its contents warmed, though his eyes never moved from the prisoner.
"I do hope you're comfortable. I've a proposal for you." Pulling on his gloves again, he waited until he heard a sharp whistle before plunging his hand into the pot, clearly wrestling with something that didn't want to be touched. Shrieks of outrage, punctuated by whistles of indignation and snarls of impatience- noises that surely no prisoner wanted to hear when even the man who attacked him seemed hesitant to handle the creature with bare hands. After a moment, however, the screaming stopped, replaced by a gentle, calmer hiss.
"I need your information. I'm not the torturing type, really- it always did take too long. So I'll make this simple- this little fellow doesn't understand when you tell the truth, but screams are universal."
Cradling a small, scaly creature in his hands, it wasn't until the baby wyvern uncurled its stubby wings and arched a bony, crooked neck out from behind its fingers that Ezekiel could see the face of his intended interrogator.
"I lost plenty of men today. The rest of your keep wouldn't fill my ranks with anything better than spittle, so I'll ask the only one with substance between his skull. How do you feel about... flying?"۞ Luck be a Lady ۞
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Posted: Mon Jan 11, 2010 4:23 pm
A man whom can conquer his fear can strive to conquer the world.>x-General Caesar-x< People wouldn't believe that a General, or any soldier at all could feel regret for their actions. Many civilians saw soldiers and their leaders as the faceless pawns that only charged on without their own dreams, fears, and ambitions. However, Caesar was just as human as any civilian. He had plenty to regret about this seige, despite it being a victory in every right possible. So many of the lower ranks died in an unknown land, never again feeling the warmth of their beloved Archanea.
Some officers would drown their sorrows in spirits, letting the troubles and memories of the day drift away with their senses bottle after bottle. Others whom were high in the ranks of the command would sometimes close themselves off completely from all emotion, as to never feel the horrible grief and remorse that came with part of their duty. The Legion's general had decided that either course of action was extremely unhealthy, and not good for his troops overall. Caesar would bear the sorrow of today's losses, and would never, ever forget their bravery.
Instead he would remember them and keep his head up high. Caesar would recall their wishes as well as his own, and never think of giving up. He remembered who gave him this spirit of optimism. While the General had taught the Cerulean Champion, Felix a lot of what he knows with the lance, the great military leader learned how to keep his sanity within the chaos that was war. After a bit of searching around his now seized stronghold, Caesar at last saw the sight he'd never get tired of. "Felix... it's good to see you. I'm glad that you haven't been injured." the horseman's superior said sincerely. "I suppose Joel is getting along well too?" it was odd to hear General Ceasar speak in such a casual tone, but around the Captain of the cavalry, it appeared almost natural.
« ● ● ● ● ● ● »
All will fall to that which is greater, this is an inevitable truth.
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Posted: Mon Jan 11, 2010 11:23 pm
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Felix~ ﻬ~The Cerulean Champion
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯⋟
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~With the battle over, there was still a lot of work to be done to make it inhabitable for such a large army. The fortress they had captured didn’t have the proper stables to hold all of the Legion’s horses so Felix and his cavalry would have to improvise. They built temporary pens out of broken wooden planks from today’s fighting. Sadly space wasn’t abundant but they learned to make due with what they got. The steeds would just have to be uncomfortable for a little while longer until a bigger fort could be seized. It was better than letting them roam the unknown terrain where they could get stolen by traveling bandits or hunted by hungry wild beasts.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Felix took off his signature cerulean armor and set it against a nearby wall. There was never a moment when the paladin wasn’t wearing blue clothing of some sort. Underneath he wore a navy tunic with gold trim and dark colored cotton pants. As he undressed, Joel neighed from the fenced area behind him. "All right. All right. I’ll get to you next," he said amused. The rider casually walked over to the animal then patted its back. "You want out of that armor too, right?" Joel nodded his head exaggeratedly as though he understood perfectly what was said and wanted to add attitude to his response. Felix chuckled at his close friend’s childish action before unfastening the first of many buckles. After several minutes the stallion experienced freedom from his leather and metal shell.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Suddenly a familiar voice began to address the young man. Felix turned to face the figure speaking. "Ah General. I didn’t expect to see you here. It’s good to see that you weren’t hurt also. The soldiers’ moral would have weakened if you took damage," he responded with a polite smile. "Thanks for asking. Joel is doing just fine." The steed snorted at that last sentence. It was as if he commented "like being cooped up in a foreign castle is just fine." Felix ignored his mount’s rude noise. "Is something on your mind, General Caesar? You sound a bit troubled. There anything I can do to help?"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~≼_______________________________________________
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Posted: Tue Jan 19, 2010 7:21 pm
A man whom can conquer his fear can strive to conquer the world.>x-General Caesar-x< When Felix spoke to Caesar, it felt like he was doing so casually despite the addressing of him by his rank. This lightened the atmosphere around the superior and subordinate, even if only slightly. However, that slight calm that they felt was all that both of them needed to stay completely sane in the many times madness threatened to take them during the great battlefields they fought. The moment that Caesar got to truly be friends with some of his subordinates made the carnage worth it. He remembered what he fought for when he spoke to them about anything, and that built a strong resolve within him that made him fight his hardest.
Troubled though? Yes, he was that, definitely. "Felix, I know I should be used to this, with our campaigns in our home world, and yet... I feel the guilt that comes with commanding the lower ranks. I give these orders and know that some of them will die..." He shook his head. He knew that as a General, these emotions were foolish. Everyone expected him to be completely stoic, but he could only hold up that facade for so long. It was rare that anyone saw the side of Caesar that was this way, almost 'sensitive.'
But the sympathy that he felt was only extended to his fellow soldiers and thier allies. He felt no sympathy for the enemy still, because they were the ones who chose to oppose him. The aggressors deserved this treatment they got from the righteous defenders: this was the way of the world. All his troops knew how to do was follow the General's orders, even if they led to their downfall.
« ● ● ● ● ● ● »
All will fall to that which is greater, this is an inevitable truth.
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Posted: Sat Feb 06, 2010 1:39 am
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Felix~ ﻬ~The Cerulean Champion
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯⋟
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~A soft grin appeared on Felix’s face as he listened. Hearing the general’s concerns made him respect his commander even more. Those worries made Caesar sound more like a compassionate human being. He cared for his soldiers’ lives unlike the enemy leaders from what they’ve experienced. To have these feelings of regret might consider an officer weak in others’ eyes, but to Felix lamenting meant one had a fine set of morals. General Caesar was a good, righteous man.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~"I empathize with you. The thought of sending out our troops when there is a high possibility they will never return weighs heavy on my heart too. However, battles are never without risk. It doesn’t take a tactical genius like Antonio to know that," he said in a reassuring voice. "Besides, everyone in the Legion follows your orders because they want to. We all volunteered to be in this army and we understand the consequences of our decisions. No one is forcing us into service."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Felix paused for a few moments. Sweet nostalgia began to surface in his mind. Memories of when the horseman first met his superior and why he joined the Archanean Legion.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Many years ago a boy in his early teens was traveling with his uncle, a prominent painter known for his talent. The artist was commissioned by a noble family to paint a portrait in honor of their son’s induction into higher military power. Sitting still for hours happened to be tedious so the nephew’s job was to keep the subject company while his uncle worked. During their daily conversations, Caesar spoke of his ambitions with such determination that he inspired young Felix to enlist. This man’s dreams sounded like they were worth fighting for.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~After much hard work and proper training with Joel, the paladin was promoted to Captain of the cavalry. On that day General Caesar gave him a prized weapon in congratulations. Felix treasured the lance and vowed to use it to carry out the ideals of Archanea.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Once the reminiscences faded back into his psyche, he began to speak again. "General, you motivated me to become a part of the Legion. I do not regret my choice. I never will. And I bet that if you ask anyone else, they will say the same thing." Felix stepped closer to Caesar so that he could put his hand on the superior’s right shoulder. "Don’t be so hard on yourself, okay? It is an honor to fight and die for your beliefs." Hopefully this comforted the general’s distraught conscious.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~≼_______________________________________________
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Posted: Sun Feb 07, 2010 1:19 pm
A man whom can conquer his fear can strive to conquer the world.>x-General Caesar-x< Felix's words, much like the words of all those who followed Caesar were both honest and strong words. It was a quality that he found unique in commissioned officers, a rarity that he stumbled upon only once in a great while. He had lived for a great while, and seen many things, and great subordinates whom were happy and willing to serve was just one of them. Caesar's life as a soldier wasn't all gloom and doom, because he was reminded every once in a while about a little something. He was reminded of what he raised his weapon for, what he gave his orders to protect.
It wasn't just his homeland that Caesar held dear to his heart, but great followers who respected their leader for who he was on the inside and out. There were people who turned their noses up at him, people who gave him harsh glares and equally harsh words. Other nobles were like that, trying their best to bring each other down so only one of them could have all the power and influence they could think about mustering. Caesar hated some of his fellow noblemen, and how they treated the ones who followed them. He was making sure, even with the lowly enlisted men, that they were all treated as human.
They were fighters, but in the end, Caesar, his officers, and even the nobles they served were all human. They all lived, and they all died, that was all when it came down to it. It was a simple existence, really. When the hand was placed on his shoulder, the General was a little surprised, to be snapped out of a trance of thought so suddenly. He didn't flinch, however, that would be a gesture of unwelcoming. Caesar had sought Felix because the young horseman was an expert at picking up people's moods, and that was just what he needed. "You're right... Felix. We are all here of our own choice. And it's because we as soldiers fight that other people have the chances of freedom. The only thing we can do, when taking losses becomes the only option is to end things quickly."
« ● ● ● ● ● ● »
All will fall to that which is greater, this is an inevitable truth.
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