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 The Crimson Crusade... (MoS/SA+FA) 
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Stablehand
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Post The Crimson Crusade... (MoS/SA+FA)
Toph silently looked out across the deserts where the tribes of Sekhet Aaru had made their home. He had visited here, a few times, in happier days. It reminded him of Lyssia's home, deep in the desert, watching over a seer who may never awaken. Toph wondered what had happened to his old friend, but, as the elves behind him shifted restlestly, realized that now was not the time for such idle thought. His elves were not used to this terrain. It was hot, and gritty, and alltogether unpleasant. Even Toph, who had visited the deserts of the isle many times, realized he was sweating profusely. Was it the weather? or was it the nature of this mission?

His faithmates. He was attacking his own faithmates. Isonian brethren. Toph's insides rolled as he furitively looked to the heavens. But Isonia had stopped answering their prayers long ago. Now, with the rise of the three dominions, it was up to the lesser beings to dictate where the lines of alliance and emnity were. Toph could tell that his men were not happy, either. This rankled them as well. Nothing to be done though, but move forwards.

And move forwards they did. The armies of the Ministry rolled over the dunes and through the defenses of the desert like paper. Within hours, Toph stood in the middle of a kingdom, watching as the villagers raced for cover. He let them go. They didnt know any better. The soldiers of the kingdom were racing for their last fortifications... and Toph waited, knowing what would come next.

Reports were coming in from other armies of MoS. the Final Ascension was also on high alert, and MoS' armies stood poised to smite them in short order. Toph hoped their conquests were going as well as his.

Toph turned his attention to the heavens as lightning struck the fortifications before him. Moments later, it was all over, and Toph waved his men forwards. Isonia's religion may be fragmented, he thought, but Barnabas would rule the isle.

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Mon Jul 25, 2005 9:53 pm
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(ooc: I love being lumped for numbers - good luck Heathenz)

He was suprised, and none to pleased to be awoken from his slumber. He had lofty plans to engage upon his own terms. The enemy came in the night and though his sentries were wary of attack they were taken unawares.

Truth be told these were the times he relished most.

The missive from the page was disturbing however, sworn enemies now followers were to be his allies. His brushed aside the dream that had awoken him prior to the banging on his quarters.

The Ascension was ready for such an assault, they're own offensive would have to wait, the Heathens knocked upon their doors. Greater numbers were clambering at their walls, and the call of battle heeded a response. The bells rang on high, the Ascension had been called to war.


Mon Jul 25, 2005 10:59 pm
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The war song sounded, twas not the war Lord Iblade had chosen for the new Mos, but the fates had interverned and handed down their descision. Already the armies of The Ministry were on the march.

Lord Iblade knew that some were once sword brothers and sisters, but had turned to another path. But he knew that war was inevitable and began sending out the orders.

"Lords, and Ladies of The Ministry

The fates of war have come. Many of you have already proven yourselves on the field of battle, and I know the mettle of your hearts.

May Barnabas guide and protect you"

Stirke swiftly and accurately and we will prevail.


Lord Iblade


Tue Jul 26, 2005 8:38 pm
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"So it is Barnabas now eh?" Viios smiled, reading over the missive in his hand. More accurately, it was a missive in someones hand that happened to be detached, and was now in his hand.

"They call us worshippers of Barnabas...they call us heathens. Frankly, I prefer to be considered something a bit less...easy. I mean, really, don't you think that's just oversimplifying things just a tad?" Viios asked. The man he was asking was, of course, tied to a wooden stake, beaten and quite thouroughly disembowled. The blood loss would finish him soon, but Viios' knowledge of blood magiks kept the vital stuff from spilling too rapidly. He needed a captive audience for his rant.

"I am a vampire. I hail from all over the Isle of Maxim. Truthfully, sometimes I wonder if there -isn't- a memory in my head for every single locale on this blasted place. For example. Right where you are, right there, I killed my first giant. It's true. I'm quite positive that he was a gigantic, freakish Goblin/Ogre hybrid, and he was just begging to be slaughtered. So, now here I am, killing yet another person. You're no goblin, but for now you'll do." Viios smirked, his ivory fangs showing once more.

"Now look, you're Angelique followers, yes? Isn't that why we're killing you off? I'm almost positive that's the reason. Everyone else is ranting and raving about zealotry and necessity, but me, I'm just curious."

Viios lays a hand on the mans gaping stomach wound and pulls forth a bloody finger. "I'm curious as to why it matters who you worship." He dips the finger into his mouth, savors it for a moment, then releases the stasis hold on the mans intestines, which spill to the ground unceremoniously.

As the man, a simple serf, gasps his last breath, his last sight is that of Viios turning towards the setting sun with a smile. "You all taste the same to me."

Then, there is only darkness as the twilight falls on Angeliques kingdoms. Soon the open desert would burn with the light of the Black Wounds murderous flames. Many would die tonight. More would die tomorrow.


Tue Jul 26, 2005 10:02 pm
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Word of wars abounded the lands as quickly and the sun's rays did the morning sky. It was inevitable for everyone, but he found himself counting another day that it did not find him.

Though it was not with a fault that he urged his patrols to be more alert. He listened to the reports of the sentries and the battles of the Aaru, Ascension, and the Ministry came closer and closer to his lands.

Two he had fought before, the third was a long standing ally, and their battles filled a hole inside him with eagerness. Soon would be his chance, but for now he would have first hand accounts of a marvelous war so near his home. And soon, war may come knocking upon his door.

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It is not ours to question why, it is but ours to do and die
Hail Ceasar, we who are bout to die salute you!
Errrmmm.... Something or another, anyways?


Tue Jul 26, 2005 10:39 pm
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Faile was not in a good mood.
She had just awoken from a much-needed nap to find her captain in her office. "Milady, I am sorry to disturb you, but I thought you should know that while you rested the realm was attacked by personages not worthy of your time. Several times, in fact... We repulsed them of course, but with your permission we shall take out one of their assiociates as an example, then crush them."

Faile, while part of a group of specialists, often liked to fly solo...
"Captain, make it so. And may whatever malignant entity they follow have mercy on their souls."

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Shadowwolf of the Mists
The Dark Is Rising!
Last Grand Mistress of the Heart of Darkness

MoS' Voice of Reason
TK CD
Commander of the Chaotic Mercenary Alliance


Wed Jul 27, 2005 4:05 pm
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She woke to the news in the middle of the night, hearing the screams through the opened doors to the balcony. The moon shown down brightly on the scene of carnage beneath her cool beams, the blood shining blackly in the light. Blade fell, scream stopped, dull thud into the sands.

This scene was repeated over and over on all corners of the lands, and the reports came in of all the other Aaru suffering the same fate. The Ministry had finally shown their true colors, and apparently IBlade was leading them to "victory".

She snorted.

On into the night the attacks raged, and finally they found that they were not the only ones targeted by this farce Named War. Final Ascension was to be their allied target.

Very well, she could work with Eltharion. She had spoken to him before under different circumstances, and they had a workable relationship. He respected her warring abilities, and she respected his leadership. This could be arranged into a suitable alliance.

The attacks ceased as the sun rose, those of The Ministry slinking back to their holes, and a single rider came through the mists as the sun crested the dunes.

A Single rider bearing an "Offer" of Peace to those of The Aaru and The Ascension.

A Single rider the Aaru beheaded and returned the horse riderless.

The Aaru refused to be Farm to anyone.

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~{Sekhet Aaru}~
Akhemu-Betesh
Battle-Mistress
Walk in the darkness to find the light


Fri Jul 29, 2005 12:34 am
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The messanger that Lord Iblade sent out with a missive to the SEKHET AARU, and Iblade knew that his fate had met with a most horrible end..

Lord Iblade was saddened by this.. He felt that Sekhet AARU who had turned to a differnt path, would have proven a most honorable foe, but all missives to them turned to a long ago, unknown transgression, one that Lord Iblade and the rest of the Council were not aware of..

Sekhet Aaru were once a great and noble ally, but as in all things, Leaders must chose thier own path for their people. As the Ministry rode into battle with what they knew to a far more capable adversary, and after the first battles, and the Ministry did not see the Great Armies of Sekhet Aaru on the march towards the Ministry, Lord Iblade knew that something was amiss, for they were great warriors, and he knew that they would more than likely have to go to great lengths to protect the Ministry Lands..

But when there was only sporatic excursions into the Ministry.. Lord Iblade knowing the reputation of the Sekhet Aaru, sent a messanger of peace... for this was not the war that the Ministry expected of them... For their reputation for ferocious battle has always been the norm.

But the message of Peace was thrown back at the Ministry, and Lord Iblade's heart sank.. for if he and the Council had known the feelings harbored by the Sekhet Aaru.. Mabe things would have worked out differntly..

Captain... Get the men ready.... This war continues.. though it pains me....

Lord Iblade asked for another volunteer...

Take this Message to the border lands.. and put it into the hands Of the Sekhet Aaru.

To the Leaders of Sekhet Aaru, We have before sent you an offer of peace.. This was not an offer of insult to you or your great people. But as it has come to light that once we were allies, there was a conflct that the Ministry did not know existed... I send again an Offer of Peace to you and your people.. and though I lead the Ministry now... I was the War Master for them during that time...

I ask for a meeting of your Leaders and mine.. To sort through these problems and hopefully come to an understanding..

I would ask that this man be given safe passage through your lands.. for he has not but followed my orders...

Lord Iblade.
Protector of the Ministry


Fri Jul 29, 2005 9:27 pm
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Blood. There was so much blood. Hundreds of soaked bandages were thrown along the floor in a chaotic fashion, leaving the entire tent looking like the belly of a bleeding mummy. Sand and dirt was everywhere, filling every crevice, every wound, every eye. There was no man out there who didn't feel the murderous deserts brutal touch. They had encamped at a vast oasis just out of the heathen lands, but now the waters ran red and brown with filth and death.

He hated this place. Every inch of this land was gods curse upon men. For most of the other soldiers the more this land hurt them, the more they wanted to hurt it back. As some of the missions and priests were preaching, the land was that of Angelique, so it was naught but an enemy to be struck down by the wisdom and might of Barnabas. Or something like that. He was trying to pay attention to the scriptures so carefully...trying to adhere to the rules, the guidelines, everything. After all, General Iblade demanded his soldiers, especially his ranger corps, were devout followers of his newfound faith. Having always held General Iblade in the highest and most absolute regard, there was no turning away from the task.

While it is true that he had followed the worship of Isonia for all his youth, there was some great sense of accomplishment when he went to Service. Sitting there with all of his brothers in arms, saying the words...it was like he could actually feel the power in his blood. He saw the lightning strikes of Isonian wrath from the distance. He had seen entire temples shaken apart and an army of the dead rise at her beck and call. But this...this was different. This wasn't just sorcery and brutality. This was real. This was faith.

It was strange is what it was. Long had he sat at the altar of Isonia at his mothers side, staring in the statues of the goddess. Long had he stared at her with stubborn but subdued defiance in his heart. Who was she to tell him what to do? Who was the Matriarch to sacrifice anyone for that statue? And for what? More power? More burning cities and dead armies? Even as a child he had seen what others did not, or what the others refused to see out of terror of being declared a heretic. He saw Isonia was a devil, demanding and giving disproportionally. No god, no ONE should be in that position. It was not theirs to have, and not theirs to force unto others.

He shook his head and ran bandages hands over his bald, slashed scalp. His hair was coming back in now, as was his beard. The Ranger corps had always had the strictest discipline regarding facial hair, but right now that was by the wayside. He had friends to burn at the pyres tonight. Today had been a long day of ruthless combat. The enemies he fought were like demons, charging their ranks headlong, with no sense of reality, no sense of pride. All they wanted was blood. Whoever their leaders were, they had given them the grim task of defending some useless tomb in the middle of the desert wastes...and had worked them into a blood thirsty frenzy as well. It mattered not, however. His gladius sprang into four chests that day...and one neck.

He ran a hand over his head once again and felt the dried blood not his own. The neck...he had never seen blood spray like that before. There was a difference between elite training and experience, and today he saw that. The most well trained warriors slaughter the green and even the veterans...but in the end, the experienced soldier doesn't hesitate. Today he hesitated, but thankfully, in that moment the berserker didn't take the advantage. She just...blinked. It was as if all his rage fell apart when she looked into the eyes of a believer. Sapped of her energy, the berserkers neck was split in twain by a singularly perfect stroke.

He clutched at his gladius, begging his hand to pull it free so as to gaze at its bloodied tip. But no, not now. The Rangers only unsheathed their weapons to show pride, to show beauty, or to show death. It was their creed. Now that creed was intermingled with the philosophy of Barnabas...and for Corporal Kabuto, 1st class, that was awfully comforting.


Sat Jul 30, 2005 9:58 pm
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Looks like Faile's propensity to go it alone may have been her Achille's heel. Having flung her challenge to the winds, it seemed as if the latest bit of unrest was focused entirely upon her and those who wouldst follow.

Most of those under her banner fell, a core group of devoted followers were all that remained of a once thriving group...
The good thing was, that if all this attention was focused upon her, her guildmates were more able to get clear of it.

It hurts, seeing things go to rot, but such is the nature of our business. Risk. With a roll of the dice, things happen. But, Faile perhaps is just too stubborn to give in to melancholy, her time will return again, soon enough.

_________________
Shadowwolf of the Mists
The Dark Is Rising!
Last Grand Mistress of the Heart of Darkness

MoS' Voice of Reason
TK CD
Commander of the Chaotic Mercenary Alliance


Sun Jul 31, 2005 8:09 pm
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