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 The ORB rolls though the lands of the SANCTUM ORB vs SO 
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Post The ORB rolls though the lands of the SANCTUM ORB vs SO
As Lord Creed ready himself in his war room a servant of the King appeared before him with a decree, he was to take to the ruler's of the SANCTUM OFFICIUM. It read

[center]Declaration of War[/center]

[center]To whom it may concern.

For some time the leaders of the ORB have watched the SANCTUM OFFICIUM reek havoc on the other followers of Foret and the allies of the ORB, and at this time we feel that it is in our best interest to step in and take back what you have taken over the ages from our brothers. This is also to let you have the chance to evacuate you women, children sick and the elderly the chance to flee into the land before the war wagon of the ORB consumes them with you soldiers. As you will soon see the fury or Foret and the power of the ORB will soon engulf you and make your lands there own. May your god have mercy on you souls.[/center]



Creed bolted to his horse and quickly made the ride to the lands of the SANCTUM OFFICIUM. Delivered the message and quickly made his ride back to the lands of the ORB as he rode off behind him he could see the chaos that his message had brought. He also knew that it would be met with a small show of force. Creed knew that was the action of any knowing of what was yet to come

[center]SANCTUM OFFICIUM (SO) 16 6,120,192 382,512
ORDER OF THE RADIANT BLADE (ORB) 15 5,427,435 361,829[/center]


Fri Dec 27, 2002 11:36 pm
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Stablehand
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Fupa dismounted his mighty stead to view ravaged lands for as far as the eye could see. He bent to a knee to examine a little boy who's legs were unfortunaty amputated in a battle. "Here take this," Fupa said in a whisper. He handed the boy a nug from his sacho. "It will ease the pain." The boy took out the seeds and stems then slowly went limp. A tear fell to the ground as Fupa stood tall. He mounted his horse and rode swiftly to the lands of darden's to reak havok wherever he saw fit.

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Sat Dec 28, 2002 8:32 am
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Bran stood back from the ruckus and watched as his brother led a sortie against the Dardenite Hordes. Aidan sent in wave after wave of soilders, each screaming at the top of thier lungs for the glory of Foret. Turning Bran looked at his own troops with some trepidation. They were such a small company after all.

"Bring me the torches and the pitch. We will follow in behind Aidan and take care of those who still refuse to change. We are dealing with deamons and those who trafic wit such so beware the succubi and the gloden coins. You will only die to feed thier unatural lust for blood and vengencae." Bran said as his men lined up in formation.

Without another word, his troops leapt across the feild of battle.

Smoke rose, magic flashed, flesh burned.


Sat Dec 28, 2002 10:21 am
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The Wizard sat quietly in the largest classroom of the Academy, preparing tommorow's teachings when news of of declaration was received. This came as no real surprise as the treasury of the Giant had been raided daily for the last week, and everything indicated that the Foretians were responisible.

The Elder had seen so many attacks upon the Giant's Castle he saw little need too panic, and gazed outside to view a solitary Owl hidden away on a high branch of the Huge oak that stood over the Academy. He often saw the Owl sat there, content and judging, Zorban felt everyone could learn from the habits of a wise Owl. In the distance the sounds of metal hitting upon metal and bloodcurdling screams could be heard, this was a particuarly viscious assualt.

Quickly he paused from his daydreaming, went over the largest bookcase and collected the three biggest books of spells in the Academy, he felt they would be needed, proceeded to his quarters for his cloak, and left for the Chapel by the back door, everything pointed to it being a long, hard night.

_________________
Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness.
Thereby you can be the director of the opponent's fate

[glow=black]Sanctum Officium: Lost in the Fog[/glow]


Sat Dec 28, 2002 10:40 am
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The Dark has been said to sit upon a jewelled crown encrusted in fine jewels bore of the Droben mines deep within the ‘Red Mountains’, his face blurred to the world of men and at hand the broad sword of the ancient ones.
Many times Dark mused over the words of the many races of Maxim, their many tales and their many stories, their many faiths, all this that lay before his realm.

Dark knew, as did Gorf ancient profit of Foret, that there was only one true faith the faith of justice, the faith of Foret.
With this Era he had seen his beloved fellow Foret ravaged by the hand of the Darden hoards, sat back and pondered what kind who do such unholy acts against his kind, but no longer.

The word was sent to Lactent ruler of the western brotherhood, commander of all forces deep within the open savanna at the heart of maxim.
Homeland to ORB.

Quote:

Take upon yourself this day brother, upon your shoulders the weight of leadership, the weight of Forets grief, cast down upon those so unholy, those of Darden, those of SO.



This call for arms was met with such vengeance by the western realms that the once great guild of SO was left in desolation, smashed, but a remnant of the great guild they once were.
At no time did Dark believe the anger within his brothers to be so strong, nor did he believe that the resilience within SO to be so weak, a mere handful of stragglers now stood between ORB and outright victory.

Dark sat upon his crown of gold and mused, he was pleased with the western king and his armies, he was pleased with all the western frontier.

Dark saw this and it was good.

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Sat Dec 28, 2002 11:26 am
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The cavernous kingdom, was quite as every night since peace was taken from this land the heathens of several Foret kingdoms where spotted with in his realm. He knew something was coming when the miserable forces of ORB showed their colors. His kingdom was left in ruins, but the number of kingdoms it took to take him down was laughable.

ShadowWander arched an eyebrow when he saw some of the kingdoms that rode with Orb. They seemed to have switched guilds. This just made ShadowWander laugh harder.


Chamberlain called to my war chiefs. These Bastard heathens wish a fight. So we shall give them one.

Soon after the call went out to gather for a counter attack, a message came was brought to ShadowWander. It was this declaration or shall I say bitching on what SO has done to the poor heathens of Foret. ShadowWander grabbed the message and began to read. First a slight grin formed on his lips but by the time he was done reading. He was laughing heartily. He tossed the message to the flooring, with a slight grin.

Well hmmm what should I think of this; messenger?

The messenger spoke softly; knowing the ShadowWander was acting lightly on the outside but raging on the inside. But He quickly showed his anger when he turned and pulled his pants down slightly and began to soil the message of war.

Well I think that was an appropriate answer to them.

As ShadowWander finished making his point of what he thought of the words of such heathens. The door opened and a scout entered. Informing him that those other kingdoms for the other Foret guilds where spotted once again. ShadowWander thought to himself, on how many kingdoms we are truly fighting.





[center]
ShadowWander

~Shadow of Despair~
<<<<<<<< Sanctum Officium<<<<==I==0
Scream, Scream louder Heathen! You're agony is a symphony to my ears[/center]


Sat Dec 28, 2002 12:45 pm
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Creed returned from his ride into the land of the Sanctum Officium when he was met by another of the king’s messenger’s. Again they had another task for him to perform, Creed knew that this was also a test another to test his loyalty to his Leaders. This task was to have him call all of his sorcerers to break down the barriers that one of the great lands of the Sanctum Officium had raised. Creeds mighty wizards called on all their power and knowledge given to them by Foret. Then they unleashed a great wind; over and over the mighty land was set upon with a mighty and powerful barrage of winds and each time the power of Darden was strong with them. Then a breakthrough Foret’s fury was unleashed and buildings started to crumble. Those that did not collapse were set ablaze, many civilians perished, soldiers died were they stood. Then Creed sent word for his sorcerers to stop.

Creed then readies his troops his infantry, his archers then he sent several men to go to the many caves and call forth his dragons. When all were assembled, the march for new lands began. As Creed and his army entered the lands of the SO he was met with some opposition but each army Creed and his men encountered were struck down as quickly as they appeared. Acre upon acre was taken, and when all was done Creed had marched so far into SO lands his own castle was barely visible. This is where they would stop for now. He then sent some men out to gather all the wounded and also send word to his General’s to meet him at his tent to prepare for the next attacks over the next few days.


Sat Dec 28, 2002 1:27 pm
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[[OOC: sorry about the poor quality of my roleplay here.. it's christmas and I have a family and life :P]]


Foretian Children. The Torturer hissed through clenched teeth as he walked through his now ruined city. Corpses lay at awkward angles within the rubble of fallen buildings and the streets ran red with blood. With one strike they think they have won the war.

The demon turned to face the old man who followed him. Aye, Milord. Our spies claim that the heathen are already shouting about their victory over us. The old man said in a voice resembling the sound of fingernails scraping against tombstones. He scratched his grizzled grey beard and squinted at Maledict with his beady eyes. A smirk etched it's way across the thin lips of the demon and a chuckle rumbled deep within his chest.

Tell me, ancient mage.. how do you measure success? He asked, his dark gaze holding that of the mage. A simple question, Milord. Success is measured in stamina and resolve, not in the first move, but rather.. the last. The mage replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Maledict looked around the ruins that sprawled before him once more and smiled. The despair of Darden has been taught to four of their great cities. He whispered softly, the words carried by the gentle breeze. Let us teach them all.

The mage knew what must be done and he inclined his head before shuffling toward the Onyx Temple. The temple itself stood proud above all the wreckage for it was immortal.

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Sat Dec 28, 2002 4:08 pm
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The borders were pressed, but they held, if barely.

The temples were strained, but they lasted, if only just.

The land was beaten, but it perservered, if slightly.

Sorentio worked day and night with the priests, leading them in construction new temples in the core of the realm. The attack had come swiftly and had been pretty much unexpected, and left his resources stretched mighty thin. But still the orders came--his magicks were to be directed towards two of the mighty attackers, those too prideful to see that they were not invincible themselves.

His magicks alone slew all the inhabitants of one such realm, leaving nothing but acres of the dead. His efforts alone were not enough for the next, but another of the Officium's forces followed through.

All in all, over a third of the attackers were destroyed by nightfall.

Sorentio snatched a brief period of rest, knowing it would all be repeated again on the morrow. The heathens would never learn, it seemed.

_________________
[center]Sorentio Rhicende
Rhyming Magician
Sanctum Officium
1am GMT 27/3/04
[/center]


Sun Dec 29, 2002 3:45 pm
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The Sidhe woman looked out patiently over the silent lands of the desert, her grey eyes seeming to be so keen that not even the smallest grain of sand would escape her notice. She stood among the half-built mountain valley fortress, timbers and dressed stone almost appearing to have been disgarded by the makers of this place in some haste. Alone, Lyssia was the only living creature that could be seen in that abondonned place, not even the smallest rodent of the dunes scuttled about its business. Perhaps if a wanderer had come that way they might have presumed that these lands were dead and the realm overtaken by foul magics. But people did not come to the desert lands by chance so there were none to think such things.

Besides the silence of Ebony's realm was not one that had come about by sorcerous means. Neither death, nor magic, nor the mundane attack of man had touched the realm, not since the protection of Darden had fallen about it. The people had taken their pilgramage to the main settlement, where they no doubt kneeled in fervent worship of their chosen deity. She could almost imagine them, men, women and children all, flesh pressed into the gritty ground, gleefully shedding their blood in order to 'prove' their love for their Lord.

The ill touch of the cowled God's hand did not sit well with the sorceress, her distaste of the Divine did not allow for it to be any other way. She had watched the people leave their work and set their faces towards the settlement, casting aside their tools and weapons in order to pay homage to Him. Why they should do such things was beyond her, their faith the greatest mystery that she had come across in many a long age. No one would ever find Lyssia acting as they did, no she was content to walk the borders instead.

Her steps were deliberate and slow; what need did she have to hurry? The peasantry of this place and their blnd mistress would remain closetted away for several days as yet, their whispered prayers the only thing to disturb the silence of the sands. The Sidhe woman did not expect to see another living soul till they returned to their posts and once more, the desert realm once more bursting into life, or as much life as it ever experienced.

And so it was that the appearance of the ragged messenger on the edges of her sight surprised the sorceress greatly.

Lyssia didn't move as she watched him approach the great gates that framed one end of the valley, the end that lead out into the world at large. His clothing, though it showed signs of wear and tear was dark as night, marking him surely as one that was not of this place. To live in the desert lands was to be stained with the touch of its red grains, there was simply no way to avoid it. He caught sight of the Sidhe and made swiftly for her, bowing his head just before he reached her position. I bring word of war for the Vision-Seeker Ebony, I must speak with her now, he said hurriedly.

For a moment Lyssia did not reply, looking up and down the messenger as if he was no more than a bug to be studied. Then she sighed, a flush of weariness flowing over her as it seemed to do more and more as of late. You, nor anyone else, shall not speak to Ebony for a while as yet, all the fanatical souls of this realm are communing with their God...with your God I suppose.

But the Foretians march towards the lands of the true faith, the Vision-Seeker must know of this, she must prepare to send her son out against the heathen hordes, the messenger stuttered.

Let the heathens march this way if they choose, these lands area barred to them just as all others are. None shall pass this way though the borders are without guards or magicks, your God sees to that well enough. When the people are ready to return to the lands they shall, until then they are away from the troubles of the world, untouched by wars and the like. They shall neither attack nor be attacked, such is the way of the God's protection when His people must worship Him it seems.

The messenger's face seemed to darken like a coming storm, his anger clear at being stopped by one who would not even acknowledge Darden as her Lord. But before he could say a word Lyssia gestured him away, Go from here, tell all that you meet that the desert people are at a peace likes of which cannot be experienced by the mere lack of war alone. Lyssia turned her back on him, knowing that he would leave, there was no place for any not of the realm in the desert for the moment.

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SO - Into darkness...
Hlasta! Quetis Ilfirimain
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Sun Dec 29, 2002 6:30 pm
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Post my 5th post
The desert was deserted for miles as far as ones' eye could see in exception for the one vonerable kingdom in which was ruled by the barren queen Lyssia. Fupa viewed the endless number of footsoldiers entrenched in the sands preparing for a full scale attack, whilst the great titans of Fupa's lands prepared for an offensive. Rows upon rows of grunting, sweating pikemen sharpened the ends of their bloodied iron staffs to needle sharp points inwhich thousands would fall. As the vast lines of dragons formed the vampire Fupa became quickly irate. . . A great black cloud emounted above the thick wall of soldiers and beasts in which turned day into night completley blocking out the sun and moon. Fupa removed the thick hood that shielded him from the sun, his' eyes ablaze a deep red. Tension mounted as the order was givin. All forces slowley marched in a syncronized motion towards thousands of blood stained fortresses. Lyssia's lands would soon be under seige. Not a soul could do a thing but watch and regret the past mistakes of dardens and those to come who would fall under the blade of Fupa.

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i drink a lot of beer


Sun Dec 29, 2002 10:34 pm
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The morning had dawned sunny and bright. I looked at the woman that slept peacefully beside me. Gently moving the hair that fell across her face, I leant forward and gently brushed my lips across her mouth. She stirred a little but did not wake. Quietly I left the bed, dressed and went to the temple.

I entered the temple where the sorcerors had gathered, some still looked at me warily soem with open disdain. I could understand that they resented me being put in charge of them, or infact didn't trust me at all, being a necomer to these lands. Still we had work to do, for the good of their faith. Soon the familiar feel and sound of sorcery being used filled the temple. At times it shook so violently one began to wonder if it would collapse about our ears.

It didn't though and just as the last spell was cast my lovely wife walked through the door. She snuggled into me and whispered "you did not wake me dearest" giving me a mock scolding lookat the same time. I smiled at her "No, you looked so peaceful, I didn't want to disturb you."

A cough resonated in the now silent temple. er Lord Havisham ... Chris, Frances, Lord Maledict is desiring to know the outcome of our activity.

I looked towards the voice of Father Eugene, "Ah yes I gathered the report from the last sorcerer as I walked to the font. Here they are Father, could you ask Lord Maledict what he requires of us now?

[ooc]I have permissin to rp Frances character and she mine[/occ]


Wed Jan 01, 2003 5:58 pm
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I followed Chris to the font and waited for the reply and it came quickly. Turning to the sorcorers present I ordered them to summon the drobens. We watched as they gathered in a circle around the font and began chanting. The chanting was soft to start off with as if it was crooning to the essence of the lands of Maxim. Slowly it changed in pitch and volume, the raw elements of earth, wind and fire joining until the chant sounded more like a woman birthing. Then without warning there was utter silence. A deathly quiet and then a sigh as the wind and rain brought forth the Droben. I smiled this olde magick always felt so special, I felt the oneness with the elements, all working together for the glory of our faith.

I looked at Christopher and smiled and then to Eugene, Father, ride with me please. For a moment he looked taken a back. Yes Frances certainly. I looked to Chris, waved, blew him a kiss, I will see you soon. I turned and Eugene and I walked from the Temple. Our horses that had been prepared earlier and now were eager to get moving. Simultaneously Eugene and I mounted our horses and rode to where we knew the army would be waiting. They were there and with a flick of my wrist we rode in the direction of Lord Lactents' lands.

It didn't take us long to get there and as we gathered along their borders Eugene summoned the spectral Injins. They would be used to distract the main troops as the Nubash were ordered to slit the throats of every Drow they could find. I signaled the start of the attack and my forces rode forward. After each strike a runner arrived reporting the results and requesting the summoning of spectral troops. Soon our resources were depleted and we retreated.

Returning to the temple I smiled at Christopher as I entered. His face relaxed from being tense with concern. I approached the font and reported to Lord Maledict on the result of our foray into Lord Lactents' lands. As we waited for any further orders to arrive a young man dressed as monk, but not yet ordained burst into the temple. Madam Madam Father Stephen sent me with this. He thrust the scroll into my hands. Absently muttering my thanks I unrolled the scroll. The contents of which brought tears to my eyes and almost split my sides as almost fell upon the floor laughing. Everyone looked at me strangely so I passed the scroll to Christopher for I could not read it aloud.


"Bad news my Marquise. 22 of our Enclaves were destroyed."
"Bad news my Marquise. 25 of our Enclaves were destroyed."
"Bad news my Marquise. 29 of our Enclaves were destroyed."
"Bad news my Marquise. 33 of our Enclaves were destroyed."
"Bad news my Marquise. 39 of our Enclaves were destroyed."


I watch Chris' face has he valiantly tried to control his mirth before it got the better of him, even the ever sober and stern Eugene broke into a chuckle.

Still laughing I managed "Stupid Heathens" and shook my head in amazed disbelief.

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0100 GMT Saturday 27th March 2004
SOSilently Mourned but Forever Remembered in my Heart.


Wed Jan 01, 2003 7:43 pm
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It had been five nights since the aged Wizard had been required to command offensive sorcery against those of Foret, yet still he was ever so tired. Night after night he had left the safety of the Academy to perform spell after spell.

The Giant had told the Elder where the weaknesses lie, and after two nights of hard toil, it was clear that Officium wouldn't stop until all of ORB had felt the true force of Darden's Glory.

And in time, they all did. Zorban was relieved when the notice of Peace came to his quarters. The days of a prelonged effort were beyond the Wizard. He returned to his bed, informed his advisors not to disturb him, and attempted to recover.

_________________
Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness.
Thereby you can be the director of the opponent's fate

[glow=black]Sanctum Officium: Lost in the Fog[/glow]


Sun Jan 05, 2003 9:38 am
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