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 To form a a republic (CFoC) 
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Post To form a a republic (CFoC)
His horse pranced on the cliff edge, nervous being so close to the sheer drop into the sea. The dark green eyes started out over the the waves crashing into the hard rock face. His somewhat handsome, if weathered, face curled into a sneer, considering how the elements warred against one another.

The stone wall, stubborn and nearly invincible to all forms of punishment. Yet, even over time the water can wear down the rock wall.

As if to augment his point, a great stone slab fell from the wall, naerly two hundred yards to his left. He could feel the shutter even from here. He shook his black hair back, running gaunlet cover fingers back through it. His armor was wrapped around him, and gold in color, with sinuous black lines forming an outline of scales. The gauntlets he so casually put near his head were etched in the sameway, the ends coming to sharp points, also colored in black. He lifted his helmet, shaped like a a demon head to compliment the rest of the armor. His eyes shone from what looked to be the eye sockets of the demon, a slight spiney ridge running down the back of his head, and down his back. But what made this armor unique was what looked to be the skeleton of bat-like demon wings folded on his back.

At his hip rest the huge hilt of a sword. The hand guard running from his cross guard, was nearly eight inches wide, and slightly curved. The cross guard was nearly a foot wide, but the hilt seemed to be nearly formed for his formidable grip. However, the sword had no blade. Resting his other hip, was a hand-and-a-half sword, in a hip baldric, leaving the shining blue-steel blade exposed.

The was Fenrir Skyblade, leader of the Horde.

For ten years he had waged a personal war along the boarderlands. Never settling, never resting. He had gathered young men from far a wide, and forged them into his own personal army. The horse continued to prace, and Fenrir skillfully reigned it in. He lead the horse back to his armies camp. Dismounting, he allowed the groom to lead it away, and entered the command tent, removing his helmet and placing it on the table beside him he leaned down and looked over his maps, moving markers representing units into place.


Tellis, move the Storm Riders and the Spiders into position here, and here. Have the Night Blades stay behind their lines as a reinforcement group.

The young man he had chosen as his Squire saluted and darted out the door to relay the orders as Fenrir tugged the gauntlets off his hands, laying them next to the helm, he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, were his hair was starting to grey.

He disagreed with the principle of the idea that had sent to him via messenger, but understood the need. His forces, and that of the other rouge generals like him, could hardly hold out without some form of body to direct him.

But his very nature chaffed at being restricted by the idea of a governing body that presided over him. He had never been directed. He was no man's weapon. Yet here he would weilded and told what was, and was not allowed.

Yet he knew in his heart that if he did not agree to the terms laid out before him, his army would not grow like it had, and he would be wiped out, like an invader.

He wrote down the orders he would need carried out while he was gone. It was sure to be a long ride, and a longer council.


Last edited by Fenrir Skyblade on Tue Oct 15, 2002 11:09 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Fri Oct 04, 2002 5:26 pm
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The dawn was gray, as the halo of the sun peeked out over the eastern horizon, and a soft rain fell over the lands of Tismad. The mist that hung low to the ground barely allowed the marking of the hunting party's passage, as a contingent of elves and humans slipped quietly through the shadows of the morning, present in the forest.

Martin squinted against the grainy outlines of various scrub brush and smaller mammals, but vision was too inaccurate this one morn to continue with the deer hunt any longer.

"Figures, lads, we came out here for a merry jaunt in the forest and instead we get to return home somewhat soggy with sodden boots. Quite a fine way to be spending our sixthday, wouldn't you agree."

The host of trackers following in his wake chuckled their assent, as they slung up their bows and quivers, covering them with fine oil cloth so that the delicate clothyard shafts weren't damaged further by the moody weather. Without anything to show for their morning trouble, the group of about 15 began trudging back from whence they came, slightly cheery despite their failure, mostly due to Martin's uplifting mood.

The human tracker was in fine spirits today for a couple of reasons. Firstly, he had been given the day off so that his lord could focus entirely on his studies, days off were rare in coming these days in the borderlands. Secondly, the overall mood of the principality was higher these days for the simple fact that the common defense treaty was nearing completion, though it seemed the body of the work was still under too much debate for passage by all the lords of the regions.

Martin was mulling these facts over, when a vague shadow appeared in the mist, and soon coalesced into the figure of a young elven man, one of the new runners employed by the sovereignty. Good fellows, those runners, fast and silent, very efficient. He seemed headed for the group, so Martin called up a five-minute break for the rest of the hunters and trackers, breaking off the meet the boy halfway at a semi-trot.

"Ho there, young fellow, what can an old tracker like myself do for you this fine day?"

The man nodded curtly and retrieved a small, wax-sealed parchment from his breast pocket, sealed with the symbol of the hawk. Probably some new standing orders from his regent lord, no doubt. So much for the prospect of a day off.

"Here you go, sir, an urgent message from the house of the borderlands, to be seen by you immediately."

Without further decorum, the boy turned and sprinted back into the woods, disappearing almost immediately. Martin may seem to act like an elf, but he figured he would never truly understand the quixotic beings.

Humming to himself, he broke the seal and opened the message, scanning the contents hastily, and moving to fold it back up and continue on his way till he stopped breathing. He read it again, his eyes wide with shock.

He sat down heavily on a log nearby, breathing in deep breaths, drawing so much attention that one of his veteran trackers wandered over.

"You alright, boss?"

Martin waved off the man, and seemed to try to explain it by waving the message at the man. The tracker, a man by the name of Everin, read the message and simply stared at the contents for a few long minutes.

"Is this real?"

Martin nodded.

"Thank Darden, it's happened."

They both broke off into wide grins, and started laughing, a loud and joyous sound.

These simple words were written on the message:

We are finally united.

-SJ, First Unanimous Chair of the Confederation of the Free Cities.

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Fri Oct 04, 2002 9:42 pm
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The clip clop of the horses heavy hooves were somewhat muted by the muck that managed to cling to them. The air this morn was crisp and sharp to breathe, but seemed all the more worth it for the fresh chill that was upon it.

Sitting on the sadle, he watched in the distance as they were coming together. It was happening before his eyes, as he spotted the first ones arriving to the spot he had been beckoned to. Taking a moment to remember the moment, he knew this would be a momentous and historic occasion.

He urged the horse to move onwards to the meeting... riding without guard, nor escort of any kind. He moved with a familiarity of the land found in few, and a sort of supreme confidence only found in the most powerful or the incredibly insane. He chuckled softly to himself, as he remarked to himself that he was possibly a bit of both. His war machine was a violent and awe-inspiring thing to behold, and would provide the heaviest stock of manpower to the creation of the republic.


His existance had been long, bloodied and filled with much horrors. It was time he built up something greater then himself and fulfill a purpose truly worth his being alive after all he'd been through.

It would be a most glorious struggle to see the fruitation of such a dream, and he'd been there in the thick of it.

Shaking his head, he brought himself out of the glorified day-dreams he was taking the time to conjure up, and went onwards with a solemn look on his face.

Soon...

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Fri Oct 04, 2002 11:56 pm
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A soothing west wind played from through the trees, as small scatterings of rain pattered almost silently on the canvas pavilion tent. Activity beneath the covering was excited, but restrained, as a group of roughly 50 well-dressed men sat around a fine oaken table, brought to the location by a team of oxen for this purpose alone.

At the head of the table, a sturdy looking elf sat pensive, his blonde hair whipping lazily in the occasional gust that would circumvent the higher flows. He pored over a lengthy document in front of him, with the heading "To form a Republic.." It was left to him alone to sign, such a weighty and immortal task for a mere man.

He painstakingly drew a quill from a nearby inkpot, holding it steady over the paper and he considered the ramifications. If he signed, he was no longer in charge of his noble house, hell, his noble house would cease to exist. He would be in charge of untold thousands across the borderlands, as it was written in the text before him. True, there were clauses aplenty for him to choose, or gain others to join him in his endeavor, but it still seemed so much...

Steeling his resolve, he put the pen to the paper and signed his name in long, graceful strokes Stee Jans.

He let out a long, deep breath he had been holding in. He found, that in all his concentration, he had begun to silently weep, tears coursing down his face. Tears of joy.

He raised his streaked face to the anticipatory throng and said only one thing:

"It is done."

A cheer went up, a sound of the ages, that would echo in the eternity of the borderlands and Tonan.

"Let it be known! The Confederation rises!"

At this sign, a good two dozen courier runners sped from the tent, in different directions, to different regions of the lands. Half went to notify the regional lords to dissolve their houses and become senators in the assembly. The other half went to the leaders of the few Darden guilds, and to lands further away that had been considering the Confederation.

This was a great day in history. And it was only the beginning.

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Sat Oct 05, 2002 9:34 am
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The cheers rose up all around him, and the pavillion was filled with exaltation as hundred hands rose in joyous celebration of the accomplishment.
Karhedron stood still and silent, his armoured fingers strumming dully on his sword hilt.

An accomplishment it was indeed, but he felt no will to celebrate.

He, and his father before him, and his father's father before, had fought many a war, hundreds a battle and thousands of deliberations and arguments, to bring Karhedron's province to what it was.
Was, yes, was. For as far as he could see, it was no longer his.

Turning, he left the pavillion -afew errand runners jostling past him as he did- and walked afew paces until he was alone, and the cheers and tears of the pavillion were but a murmur on the wind.
Slowly, he lifted off his helmet and placed it down on the damp grass next to his feet. Then, untying the scarf that he wore around his lower face, he neatly folded it and rested upon the top of his helm.

Deeply did he breath, 'til his lungs were all but full - and then held them so - savouring the moment, savouring the taste of the air. Borderland air. So fresh, so clear... and he knew he had made the right choice.

It had been many a week since he had tasted air so true. Back home, in his province, just over the range of small mountains at which he placed his gaze, the air was far from what it should be - and had been for many a year.

Separated from the rest of the borderlands by the small peaks, Karhedron's people had fought long and hard to keep the mountain passes open, the trade routes unblocked and river, the Yvienne -mother of the border lakes- flowing... And had paid dearly for their struggle.

No air could be found that did not carry the stench of death or ash. His people were worn and scarred, and those of youth were few and far between - each season the number of men raised by the levies became smaller and smaller...

An unfavourable choice, but a right one.

For already, regiments were en-route to reinforce his pass guards and a small fleet was on it's way upstream to aid the river guards, and though he disliked having these outsiders within his province, maybe, just maybe, they might bring some of this true air with them!


Wed Oct 16, 2002 5:51 am
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The battered old warrior idly watched the Orient Track from his post on the sunrise wall. It was nearing the end of his shift and his thoughts kept straying to the recollections of a comfortable chair and a cool draught of bock at the Perverse Pony. It took a few moments before his bleary eyes blinked and focused on the rider cresting the nearest rise.

He stood and squinted trying to see who was coming. The beat of hooves grew louder and Fletcher recognized the fellow. It was that skinny damned elf who'd been bragging about being a courier for the Halls. Who was the mayor now? Hank? Had Hank finally beat Aruthustra the Elder in an election? The sentry's shoulders hunched as he leaned closer.

"Open the door, he's one of our'n" yelled Fletcher, cupping his hands so the half-orcs manning the gate might hear him. The hookers were screeching about something again, and their Union rep had yet to arrive to mediate let alone reduce their volume. To himself Fletcher grumbled, "One of our'n with nothin' but crap news too, I bet, more caravan's taken for taxes and donations to those rancid Foret and Isonian thieves."

What? What did 'oo say Fletch? croaked Zoroc the Gate Orc

"Open up! Courier!" Fletcher repeated louder. He turned back to see the elf reign up his horse. He doffed his cap and waved, Look, look at me now, Fletcher! I told you I would be someone! Someone important!
He flashed alot of pointy white teeth, like Elves do when they're excited,
And I've got important news too!

Fletcher frowned and waved. From his perch above the gate he watched as the courier trotted throught the gate. Our petition to join the Confederation was accepted! He waved a scroll in his hand, Right here! The treaty is right here! Yee ha!

Fletcher picked up his lance and headed down the stairs. Ranulf was here, and his shift was over. Time for a cool draught and a quiet smoke. And to think about this news. The heathens weren't gonna like this at all, which meant Fletcher might be a busy man soon.

He smiled for the first time in a month. This meant killing heathens. So it was good news after all.


Wed Oct 16, 2002 9:11 pm
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“Sire, I do not see why Annexation is even a suggestion. Currently with the cap on farm products you pushed through the Council. The Progeny and the Foundation are more than enough protection to serve us even in our direst need. And with the waning reliability in the Dardenite nations, I cannot see Mr. Jans or his Confederacy lasting more than twenty minutes, let alone full years under the bright sun of Tonan. In closing sire, I would like to remind you one last time as well about the religious implications this would have as well.”

Reylan shifted as Mr. Pestinwink, a respected member of the Council, tried to push him away from his plea of Annexation to the leadership of the Confederacy. “My dear Mr. Pestinwink, I would not suggest, in the slightest, that the Foundation, nor the people of Progeny not capable of defending us at a moments notice. Also, I am not one to rouse concern when it comes to monetary issues of the Foundation, we have never been poor and I doubt that we shall be anytime in the foreseeable future. What I am asking for though is something I have thought about for such a long time it actually frightens me to witness it here and now, a Republic. This is not another amalgamation of city states ruling independently of each other, serving a lord or lady, but instead it is the very truth of freedom.”

Reylan poured another glass of sherry from the canter. “Mr. Pestinwink, you brought up the mention of religion. Something I have yet to touch on in Council, and for good reason. Is it not prudent that the Council not combine church and state? Should they not try to defend the inalienable rights of man, elf, dwarf, even the droben, so that they can continue their reign upon Tonan, unfettered by the greedy hands of monarchs and dictators? It is no longer a question my dear Mr. Pestinwink, it is the solution!”

Mr. Pestinwink looked a bit shocked; he had come for coffee and tea, and instead had found staunch resistance to his plea for non-annexation. “Well then, you will be at the mercy of the dogs then, the Council may call for a vote of no-confidence in you and your staff if they support you. House Evencourt will most likely be the one to make the first motion.”

”I have done more idiotic things for smaller gains before Bill. I doubt the Council could frighten me anymore.” Reylan said with a smile. “I have asked the people of the Confederacy to accept our petition for Annexation. I hope to have a response via aviary within days. We shall take this matter directly to the Confederacy, and test this new Republic of theirs.”

Mr. Pestinwink just nodded.

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Fri Oct 18, 2002 3:57 pm
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Stee Jans was not a stupid man. Granted, he had his moments of flitting vanity, where he thought himself the greatest thinker yet, the common sign of a stupid man, but he realized the foolishness of the thought all the same.

Of the things he knew, most were of warcraft and statecraft, more in the realm of governmental function, rather than politics. However, he still was able to see what men were thinking in a way, and realize the sum importance of the situation. He knew that more men than not were against the idea of a republic, even in the soothing guise of a confederation. And not only outside influences, either, mostly in the home camp. He had heard the grumblings during the proceedings, the eloquent arguments against such a committment, the seething assent due to real circumstances. He knew most of his new senators were warlords through and through, he himself could reflect that mindset, though less extremely. They knew this was a good short term solution to the defense problem, so they acceded out of need rather than want. He could only hope to sway their later thinking.

The other events were the ones that had happily surprised him. Without seeking it, there had been an influx in scribes to his personal office, requesting admittance or seeking terms of annexation. The wizard Hank and his principality was the first to do so, a very apt and competent man whom he was glad to have in the Confederation. The other was even more surprising than the first, since it stemmed from a heathen lord alluding to possible annexation. This man, a lord Talonspyre, was someone he was familiar with, and knew to be a good ally to gain. But there was still the issue of his being Foret.

Thinking upon the matter, and his response, he retired from the festivities of the evening to his personal quarters. He was unsure of what type of response was expected, but he may as well be prompt in it, if not anything else. He set his pen to parchment and began writing.

Quote:
Lord Talonspyre-

I thank and commend your interest in the Confederacy, and your willingness to suplicate yourself in annexation. It is a rare event when one of such radically different following would even consider such a course of action.

I am certain you wish to test us, and see if our mettle is as true as our word. I can begin by assuring you that we a true confederacy, as far as fledgling republic, I would imagine. Our methods are egalitarian, as the only thing that separates the echelons of our government is the division deemed appropriate by our people and their senators. All issues are voted upon, from simple policy change, to war resolutions, to amendment of our charter and structure. All are given these abilities on an equal spectrum, regardless of seniority or rank.

Greatly, we are a simple people, it was not embellishment that gave me cause to name us as simple border lords, for that is what we are. With the exception of newer entering states, we are rural, independent and free, even in the face of the adversity that the surrouding territories levy upon us. For one, we can count lucky the fact that many of our people are located within mountainous territory, and the natural defensive barrier preserved our continued sovereignty. Until this day, that is, where we now control our own freedom through our unity.

You may contribute as much or as little as you wish, either way, we will be satisfied with a mere token of your support of the cause. The cause is greater than us, and only through expanding support may it one day be viewed as the true method, thereby yielding universal freedom.

To this point, you may be concerned that I sound too idealistic, and that I have not taken into consideration the realities of the world we reside in. I can only assure you that I have, and know what we must do for continued existence. We will war when we have to, we will protect our allied states, and the only compelling thing I wish of new states, is the guarantee that they will contribute freely to our collective defense.

Beyond that, all you are expected to be is free. I hope this sheds light on the issue for you, and should you not see this as being favorable, I shall begrudgingly accept your position and hope we not meet across the field of battle one day.

Sincerely,
Stee Jans
First Chairman of the Confederacy
Leader of the Hawk Party.


After sending off the carrier pigeons, in threes to assure safe arrival, Jans relaxed for the first time in weeks, and attempted to relieve the pressure that seemed perpetually at his temples. Evolution of society was never an easy thing.

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Sat Oct 19, 2002 3:06 pm
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Reylan was read the letter aloud, his scribe, James, did not even mispronounce the larger words Foundation education systems did not teach for the fact Lord Talonspyre did not want his populace speaking more eloquently than he. Reylan looked to the window for a moment and then motioned with gloved hand for James to start writing.

Quote:
First Chairman of the Confederacy Stee Jans,

I am writing this in response to your last missive. I am pleased to have received such a prompt response to my inquiries into your government structure and it’s very core beliefs. Imagine my relief when I was informed, by your letter, of that core belief being one in the same with what I, personally, have deemed a necessity for a true republic. Freedom. Now please do not misunderstand this line of questioning that shall follow, but far be it for me, a respected leader of nations, to go headlong into an annexation, without more conclusive evidence of stability.

Upon the subject of war, you strike a nerve with me. In my time leading the armies of Foundation, I have been privileged to be schooled in the art of war by many great leaders. Not one of them have ever attempted such a command hierarchy as you have, to actually vote on war is a very unpalatable issue. A question that arises with this particular aspect is the case of a war when say thirty percent of your Confederacy is inactive in the Senate. Will the vote be performed upon a smaller more condensed group of senators or will the entirety of the Senate be required to call for an Act of War?

Will this not impede the process of war with the rest of the more totalitarian regimes on Tonan? My assumption would be that the vote perhaps is one of the most liberating and also one of the most constrictive measures ever created by a government. It binds people together in freedom and representation, yet at the same time it could very well waylay defensive maneuvers, offensive strikes, and perhaps even start a war that may not be very prudent.

Perhaps you could shed some light upon this subject.

Signed Respectfully,
Reylan Talonspyre
Supreme Chancellor of the Foundation

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Sat Oct 19, 2002 4:09 pm
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Stee wiped the weariness from his eyes once more, returning to the copious work that lay before him. He had been up 16 hours straight reading missives, well-wishes and subtle threats from the powers of Tonan. It seemed that the Confederacy was rising quickly to the notice of all, and he wasn't sure whether it was a good or bad thing at this early a time.

About three hours ago, a new batch of letters had arrived via runner, pigeon or caravan. Only now was he beginning to crack these ones open, so much was the load he shouldered. For the time being, he was the only administrator, as the Confederate states has not consolidated their power enough to organize elections for chair positions. The only power he had, the power of appointment, failed the couple times he had tried it, as regional lords wished no power but that over their people. It was a tiresome thing, and he hoped his cabinet was soon hereafter established, or things may well go into abject chaos.

As he was sifting through this new pile, he noticed a response from Lord Talonspyre, the enigmatic and odd Foretian lord who had answered the call for Darden's freedom. A very quixotic occasion it is, when a heathen is so enamoured with a concept he is willing for annexation. Nonetheless, it was a welcome thing, for the Confederacy was burgeoning, and while more states meant more work, it also meant more security and more chances to find leaders.

After reading the missive, Jans was slightly ambivalent. The contents were far more invasive in questioning than the last overview, and had he less faith in the allure of freedom, he may have sensed duplicity as the motivation. It was a touch decision to give a heathen the structure of war, and how it functioned within the Confederacy, but it was also understood. The man was about to sacrifice what he had called dear for so long, for a cause he was still unsure of.

Not possessing any servants to scribe the message, he set about it himself. The price of work was a small price to pay for the universal freedom all had in choosing their tasks. He had not yet fully assembled a paid house staff for the capital of Merenthis, his home city.

Quote:
Lord Talonspyre-

I am glad you choose to question things before committing, it shows an informed and cautious nature, but one also very capable of being reliable when the going gets tough. I will answer the questions you have succinctly, as I was never a man for verbose or overly-complicated communication.

The war votes are held on a majority quorom basis. Hence, if out of 13 members, only 7 show up, a vote can still be held. This prevents inactivity or inaccessibility from harming the unified states. Secondly, it only requires a majority vote, and since wars are very easy things to vote for, usually you'll only require 7-8 votes to secure passage.

Now, let's posit that this does not work, and a quorom vote is not achieved. In that case, the elastic clause of the charter allows me any necessary and proper action to protect the Confederacy. If a rush job is needed, I can declare 48 hour war without the assembly vote. At that time, the assembly votes, and I must abide their decision. Hence, I will offer peace to the other side, and if they do not accept, the assembly must accede that we take all proper action to defend our interests. The union is structured so that matters of war are given the most freely to the elected chairs, while more internal and less-pressing matters are taken in fully due time by the assembly.

I will cease now, as I have begun to ramble. But hopefully you will agree that the Confederacy and its charter takes duly into account the need for expedient and unrestrained action in terms of warfare, thereby circumventing the usually ponderous process of full vote.

Sincerely,
Stee Jans.


Personally, he set the message off, not wishing to disturb a courier at this time of night, and after the bird had sped away, he suddenly had a deep longing for a fine cup of brandy.

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Mon Oct 21, 2002 11:35 am
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The blind man walked slowly down the dark damp stonewalled corridor. His figure was a towering seven feet, but he was thin and frail. Despite his frailty, and great age, Drawde had the appearance of a young adult thanks to his powerful magic. The tall mans stange appearance was excentuated further by his complete lack of color, he stood as a black and white image. His skin was pale, nearly pure white, but his hair and eyes were black, and he wore black robes. Adorning his fingers wrists, and neck was silver rings bracelets and chain necklasses, they all shimmered in the dim torch light.
The blind man was contrasted sharply by the servant boy who led him. The small boy had fair blond hair, blue eyes and tanned skin. He dressed in red robes, and wore gold jewlery, although much less jewlery than his master. Compared to his keeper the boy seemed very full of life, exept for the expression on his face, or rather lack there of. He wore no expression, and seemed to be permenantly in a daze. The boy was also much older than he appeared, trapped in one point in time by his masters magic.
As the walked down the hall the boy described all that he saw. His describtions were highly detailed, his words were elequent and his voice was soft and soothing. He spoke with great rapidity.
The pair arived to the main chamber of the keep to find Philleman perched on his grandious throne. The cruel iron fisted ruler of Elad Nire was a rather fearsome sight. He was a half demon half human hybrid, and stood six foot nine inches tall, almost as high as his wizard. But unlike the skinny magic maker, Philleman had the body of a warrior, he was broad shouldered and muscular. He had an appearnce much like that of a human, but his demonic heratige gave him some interesting traits. The least noticable of which was his skin it was pale and faintly tinted blue. He also had two small horns on his head, but perhaps the most disconcerting feature of his appearance was his eyes. They were a deep blue, entirely blue, with no pupil nore whites, just an abyss of blue.

"You called for my Master Teman."
"Yes, I have news for you. As you will recall I petitioned for admitance into the Confederation of Free Cities not long ago, and it seems that Elad Nire has been acepted."
"Ah, yes I do recall you making the request, but fail to understand why you wish to get involved. I thought you refused to join a guild because you would loose you liberty over you own lands."
The wise old magician acctually did understand the situation perfectly, but he knew the arogant man Philleman wanted to expain so he played along.
"Yes Drawde, that is the beauty of this arrangement. The confederation allows a great deal of flexablity so far as I do not endanger them. So I loose little to no power, but my friend I do stand to gain power."
The half demon began to laugh.

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Thu Nov 07, 2002 2:28 pm
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Coming out of the deep sleep, Anvar realized he had been asleep for many years. Things had changed from what they once were. He was sure that he had been forgotten by all who trembled at his might and those who fought beside him.

Anvar found the need to make a name for himself once again. Constructing a new empire wouldn't be easy. Being an elf, however, he was sure he could manage to find several wood-elf villages willing to commit to his cause. After several days of campaigning he had a large following. He then began the process of creating his empire.

Among his followers, there were many skilled metal workers and some devout priests who knew something of enchanting. Anvar explained to the metal workers that he needed a suit of armor to fight alongside his armies in. The smiths worked many hours a day on this suit of armor. Anvar was very impressed by the work done. However, his plans were not complete. He took the armor, which was rather heavy, to the elven priests who followed Darden. Using their powerful magic the priests created an enchantment that made the armor even stronger and lighter than regular clothing. With this armor and his rather formidable skills with a long sword, Anvar would be a frightening force on the battlefield.

Building his empire within the forest, Anvar figured they would be relatively safe from attack. Going about his daily tasks of training soldiers and overseeing the work, he was interrupted by his scribe.


"Sir you have recieved a message. It's from the Confederation"

Taking the scroll, Anvar pondered at what the Confederation would want with him. Opening the seal, he began to read. Not completely taking in what he just read, he read it again, more slowly.

The Confederation is an alliance of free cities? How interesting. This would allow security yet maintain full control of my empire.

Anvar asked the scribe to write a letter informing the Chairman of the Confederation his allegiance. Anvar expected this would mean more security, and yet at the same time more war. Large wars, thats what he liked most.

_________________
Chan'ti


Fri Nov 08, 2002 3:44 pm
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