Classic-Castle Roleplay: February 2005

[lemon_squeezer2]

Grid: Far to the west on the 14th latitude
Location: ?

The next day, the former commander of the Falcon fleet had determined his circumstances. The hulk was on a reef of some sort and land could be sighted just a mile away. Using his sextant, he was far to the west of Dameteros and in the southern latitudes as well – the water was unusually cold, but the air was warm and he had spotted some tropical birds. Most significantly though, he was alone – utterly alone. There were six bodies in the ship – the rest of the crew had been swept overboard. For all practical purposes, he was marooned.

Girard’s body was still sore, but walking around the ship he was able to take stock of his supplies. The cargo was not spoiled fortunately, so that meant there was enough dried meat and hardtack for perhaps nine months. As for tools, the carpenter’s toolbox was still onboard and intact. The best surprise was that two of the chickens had survived. That meant that he would have a ready source of eggs.

Throughout the afternoon, the marooned captain spent his time building a raft from the wreckage of the ship. He had to make himself some sort of shelter on land – the next storm that came would surely dislodge the ship and most likely sink it in the state she was in.

Despite his predicament, Girard could not help but feel a bit excited as he set out the next morning, his craft loaded with provisions and supplies. He was an explorer now. He had found land, and was probably the first person to set foot on it. That meant he could, for all practical purposes claim it for the Black Falcons. Right now it may be an empty claim, but he was determined to put together a more seaworthy craft as soon as possible.

Using some spare canvas, he erected a small tent on the beach, careful to position it somewhat inland so as not to have it swept away by high tide. Another item that had survived was the ship’s log. Sitting on the fallen branch of a palm tree he began to write:

February 10th

The storm system mentioned before grew into a hurricane the likes of I had never seen. The fleet is apparently lost, save for the battered hulk of the Deleos. I seem to be the only survivor and I am marooned on what seems to be an Island in the far west on the 14th parallel. Whatever useful supplies I could find on the ship I have brought with me here. As of today, I claim this land for the Black Falcons, naming it New Johanasburg in honor of my hometown. It appears to be a rich country filled with a multitude of tropical vegetation and what appears to be a fertile plain farther to the south.

Girard closed the leatherbound book. The first item of business would be a permanent shelter.

[Commander Redbeard]

Location: Archives in Orion

For five and a half hours, until nearly ten at night, the Fellowship searched the scrolls. It was slow going, for many of the scrolls needed to be translated by Hans, who became slower and slower as the time wore on. The scrolls were filled with ancient records, myths, legands, and literature of all types, but there was nobody in the room who took the time to do anything but glance over the ancient penwork, then carefully reroll the papyrus and stack it in the ever-growing pile of parchments. Daner Pluto seemed to be enjoying himself, taking scrolls from the "Already read" stack and reading them over, making notes on his paper, then putting it in a "finished" pile of his own. About midnight, Luxus and Hans had fallen over with exaustion, their collapsing onto the scroll entitled An examination of cloud formations in Northwest Dametros. Daner winced as the ancient parchment tore, then hurredly shoved them off it and picked it up. The two stared blankly at him, then promptly nestled into a corner and fell asleep, their heads resting on A History of the Bull Isles. Daner just smiled slightly, chortling.

"Let them get some sleep, they won't hurt that book. My, Luxus and Hans do seem to get on famously, don't you agree?"

The others nodded from behind their scrolls. The two had been talking all evening, Hans teaching Luxus fragments of several languages, while Luxus chattered on about their adventures since leaving Forestman territory. But that was of little concern now, they had work to do.

By three in the morning, the crew was exausted.

"Let's call it a night."

Even Daner looked tired now. He picked the lantern from a rickety table and started to turn when a scroll, which had been wedged under the lantern to keep it from sliding, fell off the table. Instinctively, Daner caught it in his free hand and started to put it on one of the shelves when he dropped the lantern in surprise. It shattered, and oil started to blaze on the floor. The rest of the Fellowship turned in alarm, and Anardan and Reno quickly used their cloaks to smother the flames. They stood up, cloaks slightly smoking, while Shainya took the other lantern from a bleary-eyed Luxus and held it up.

"What's wrong?"

Daner held up the scroll, stared at it for a moment to make sure that his exausted eyes had not misfunctioned, then opened his mouth.

"Here follows the account of the Temple of Stars, written on 15 June in the year of..."

Shainya almost dropped the other lantern with surprise.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

"What's wrong?"

Daner held up the scroll, stared at it for a moment to make sure that his exausted eyes had not misfunctioned, then opened his mouth.

"Here follows the account of the Temple of Stars, written on 15 June in the year of..."

Shainya almost dropped the other lantern with surprise.

Reno and Aros gasped and Bjarn raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Daner continued, "Here follows the account of the Temple of Lost Stars, written on 15 June in the Year of the Fallen Hawk.

After the legendary defeat of the Battle of the Second Suns, Lord Inion of Heilsgoth learned by betrayal and subterfuge the exsistance of two magical pendants, wrought by King Kris himself, to contain all his power. Upon learning of these Pendants that could hold the fate of King Kris, Lord Inion scoured the land until at last he found them in a temple, known as the Heart Of The World.

Before King Kris could stop him, Lord Intion destroyed the Pendants, causing at great spout of flame to rise into the sky and obliterating all of King Kris's power. The great flame burned for three days, and when it at last fell to earth, the locals began calling the infamous temple the "Temple Of Lost Stars", for it seemed the heavens themselves had fallen to earth, not knowing where to go.

When the flame at last was quenched, Lord Inion, now ruler of this most vast and expancive land, commanded a mighty forest to grow, to swallow up and hide the place that was the symbol of King Kris' power. Then Lord Inion was banished by Verlin the Great, and the wood became a place of fear and danger."

Daner looked up. All of them stared back. Then, slowly, Aros said, "I've wandered Dametreos all my life, and there is only one place that the Temple Of Lost Stars could be. And that would be the Neverwood."

There was a stunned silence, then someone spoke. It was Hans.

"I've never stepped out of Classic LEGOland in my life, but I think you're right. I've seen many maps of Dametreos, and the Neverwood is in the perfect location. It's western borders are on what used to be the Draqqar Desert before it was irrigated and converted by magic and muscle in 1652 CC. Also, all of Classic LEGOland was mostly plains before being built upon."

Daner nodded. "I believe you are both right. It is logical too. The Neverwood is one of the few places in Dametreos that has not been acurately charted and is generally avoided. A perfect place for a 4000 year old temple to hide."

Bjarn sighed a slumped into a chair, rubbing his eyes.

"Of all the places, it had to be the Neverwood..."

[Loneranger]

“As for payments, we will be glad to offer any assistance to the Black Knights. Too long have we held grudges against one another. As for the third, the former heart of Bull territory is now clearly Falcon land. However, a joint settlement could be agreed between us and the Black Knights to give some of our possessions in the isles for the Bulls. Thank you.”

Sirion pondered about this in his mind for a long time before standing up. Seeing that the speaker for the Royal'ss was done.

“I would like to speak next.” Sirion asked of the Emperor

“Go ahead” The emperor replied.

Me and my country men have fought on the battle field to protect our homes. Clearly you have invaded my lands for years, and we to you. But I will not stand here and be told that we must sacrifice our own lands. We have already done so. By giving the bull's a Island lesser in price. And if we would need any assistance. I would gladly ask of you to restore our burnt fields and comfort those who are starving, and that have lost loved ones in battles against your army's. My people are now plagued with disease and famine. And once was a beautiful capital, now lays in ruins. What say you of the Black Falcon's.

Everyone took there eyes off of Sirion and looked at Karl.

Everyone could tell it would be a long council meeting...

[lemon_squeezer2]

My people are now plagued with disease and famine. And once was a beautiful capital, now lays in ruins. What say you of the Black Falcon's.

Everyone took there eyes off of Sirion and looked at Karl.

Everyone could tell it would be a long council meeting...

Karl sighed. “Has your memory grown faint? The disastrous siege of Rathoan was retaliation for your seizure of some of our islands in 1996. That in turn was to avenge the long march of 1985 that ransacked your countryside. The long march was a result of the sea battle in the southern isles that took place in 1979, resulting in near destruction of our 2nd fleet. The list goes on and on. I simply am proposing that in turn for a joint concession of some of our holdings to the south to the Bulls, we will promise to stop hostilities once and for all. We also are offering aid and supplies to repair any damage we might have done. In this way, the Emperor’s three points can be met while at the same time settling an old feud.”


In Falconis City Martin threw down his teacup in a fit of frustration, causing it to shatter on the varnished wood floor releasing its still warm contents everywhere.
“Tyco this megablocks snow!” The precipitation had stopped, but the temperatures continued to get increasingly colder. There was no way – unless…

Walking downstairs, the balding general pulled on his regulation shirt, heavy with innumerable ribbons and medals. He had not become the third most powerful man in the nation for nothing. Strapping on his boots, he put on his recently pressed coat, finishing it off with a furlined hat, its front cover and earmuffs tied up and a golden pin displaying a falcon on front. The general walked upstairs again and climbed out the window. He had an appointment to make.

[Barbapple]

Grid O-4
Location: Forestmen Territory

Markus rode his horse along the shores of the forestman's land. He smelt the salt from the sea, and there was adventure on his mind. He rode into the woods, not knowing what they may hold.
"Markus, today is a day for conquest." He said to himself, slowly riding threw the woods.
"Halt!" A forestman's voice came from the back of him, "Who goes there, and what is your buisness in our land?"
"I do. And my buisness is my own." Markus said, with a sneer in his tone.
"Tell us your name and state your buisness, or we will be forced to make you exit our land." The soldier insisted.
"Let me pass or I'll be forced to render your head from your shoulders.
The forester, though taken back by this, had delt with delinquents before.
"Please, sir, get down from your steed, and we will take yoiu to a nearby village, in whist you will be held under supervision untill we see if your any danger.
Markus glared at the forester, then rode beside him.
"I said get off the horse." Said the forestman, in an annoyed tone.
"Take me to the nearest village." Said Markus, shooting one of his swords out quickly, and the forest-dweller could feel it's cold steel on his neck. he swollowed nervously.
"Yes, right away" the forester said, leading the horse by its rains.
It was little time before they reached the small village.
"Now," Said Markus, "Fatch me food, drink, and a fire to sit by."
"Why should I?" Said the forester, rolling his eyes, and turning around.
"Incolent swine." Said markus, hopping down from his steed, and punching the forestman in the back of the head, rendering him unconcious.
"Now," He anounced to the village, "If none of yee want to suffer the same fate as your freind here," He lifted the limp body by it's hair, and quickly slit his throat, "Than I sudjest you do as I say."
Unbeknownst to Markus, A villager had slipped away, and was running. runing to tell someone what had just happened

[Sir Drake]

Grid: M-8
Location: Drullen Bell Keep

1 week after the snowstorm incident...

"Open the gates!!" Fraun yelled.
"Who's there?"
"It's me, Fraun" he said "now open the gates, hurry, I have wounded people with me!"
The great oaken gates opened and Fraun and twenty others went inside. Fraun carried Frayla, Swift carried Aaylah. Strider, Draco, Drakkon and Drake were carried by some soldiers. Others limped towards the gate.
"What happened?" Gonderin asked.
"We were under attack by Wolf Pack soldiers, but that doesn't mathers now, clear the way to the sickbay!"

When all the wounded were carried to the sickbay, Fraun went to the quarters of Gonderin. He threw a sword on his desk.
"What is this?"
"This is a sword I took from one of our ambushers, look closer at the blade..."
"That red flame... that's the sign of Grimtongue" he Gonderin said "I tought he was defeated?"
"He is.."
"But then...?"
"Who this is?" Fraun smirked "I wouldn't have found that without my new friends, you can come in now..."
Suddenly Swift entered.

Gonderin drew his sword when he saw him.
"You foul trader, how could you do this?"
"Easy, Gonderin, he can be trusted" Fraun calmed the man.
"How do you know?" Gonderin said, putting his sword away.
"He saved my sister's life..." Fraun said like something broke inside of him.
"I see..., now could we please change subject?"
"Yes, back to the sword, as I said I wouldn't figured this out without Swift"
"Please, tell me"
"Well, actually it's quite simple to figure this out, here look even closer to the sword, if you look very closely you can see the flames form two symbols: an C and an G, can you allready think of someone?"
"Well, the only one I can think of is Defoe Grimtongue, but he's dead" Gonderin said.
"Pretty close..., these are the symbols of Ciroal Grimtongue, the Fair Lady"
"My Elk, but what does this has to do with us?"
"Well, as far as I can think, it's a while since I was on Wolf Pack lands, she has ceized power on Fell Isle and her followers has spread to the Mainland, she is hunting down the non-Wolf Pack Forest-Dwellers"
Gonderin's eyes went wide open wen he heard this news.
"We should gather a meeting to discuss this terrible news, we must do something about it, quikly!"

Swift and Fraun exited the building. Fraun looked at Swift, he could clearly see Swift was troubled with this.
"What's the matter?"
"Well, it's just the fact that it will surely come to a fight and I will need to kill fellow Wolf Pack members"
"But, you allready killed some at Hemlock River when we were under attack, by the way, I haven't thanked you yet for helping us" Fraun said while shaking hands with Swift.
"That was different..., then I had to choose between my allies or some rebels, it wasn't a difficult choise..." he smiled.

They went to the great hall and ate some, it was a quiet meal. After that they went to the sickbay to see their friends. Radjar Kath and Rosa were there allready.

[Commander Redbeard]

The Fellowship retired at three in the morning, hardly having enough energy to make it to one of the Inns nearby. They slept until nearly noon, until they finially got up and enjoyed a hearty breakfast at the bar. Bjarn, Anardan, and Reno left soon afterwards to return to the Library, where they found Daner again seated at the little table they had found him at yesterday, reading his book. He looked happier then ever, hardly tired at all, unlike Hans, who lay with his face down on the table across from him, snoring into the wood. When he noticed them, Daner put down the volume he was reading.

"Good noontide to you! It seems as if you've slept well. Young Hans here's been asleep all morning- but he has an excuse. Take a look at what he made for you after you left last night."

Daner produced a thick scroll of heavy paper tied with a leather thong.

"This is the complete translation of the scroll we found, as well as a map of the Neverwood and the surrounding lands, with every detail known to us included. He stayed up late compiling all the maps of the region we have into this parchment right here."

Bjarn took the scroll, then opened it on the table. On the top was a neatly penned passage, and the bottom was an intricately detailed map written in black ink. After the trio scanned it for several moments, Bjarn re-rolled it and tied the thong.

"This will be invaluble! Give him my utmost thanks when he awakens."

Daner smiled again, picking up his book.

"Come see us again before you leave tomorrow. You can thank him then."

"We certainly will;" Said Bjarn. "We'll be leaving at dawn."

_______________________________________

The bright noon sunlight almost blinded them as they emerged from the cool, dim library. It was nippy, yet the sun warmed their heads and made them think of spring. It was a Saturday, Market-Day in Orion, and hordes of people were bustling about in the huge commons area. There was a festival feeling in the air; street preformers did acrobatic leaps or played jaunty songs, while men outside the drink boothes danced wild jigs to the music. The three couldn't help letting their spirits be lifted slightly; this was one of the parts of city life that the Forestmen rarely knew. The others were probably out as well. It would be good for them to have some fun and forget tomorrow, at least for awhile.

The three poked their way through the crowd, making their way to the street where vendor's stalls lined the way. The first stop was the baker's, where Bjarn ordered fifty pounds of a hard travelling bread called hardtack. After haggling with the baker, Bjarn paid him and arranged to have the hardtack brought to the inn where they were staying. In the next few hours, they bought dried meat from the butcher, lumber for a new sled from the carpenter, and some seasonings and salt for any stews they might make. Bjarn also ordered eight hardwood staves, all polished and cut to size for each member of the Fellowship. Reno also had the brilliant idea to procure eight pairs of sturdy snowshoes, which cost Bjarn most of his gold but everyone admitted it would be worth it, as their makeshift ones had fallen to pieces.

Back at the Inn that evening, Anardan took Luxus and Dractor to help him construct the sled. In their room, the other five talked about what they had bought while Shainya and Reno sat, a sewing box in between them, mending the company's torn clothes. Every few moments, Reno would offer a muffled apology to the owner of the garment he was sewing when he missed a stich, glancing embarassdly at Shainya's neat stiching. Voolmark unobtrusively nudged his torn cloak from Reno's pile into the mound at Shainya's feet, causing muffled laughter from the rest. It was good to laugh, for Tyco knew when they'd get to laugh like that again.

[Commander Redbeard]

Location: Forestman territory

Elacil could tell something was wrong when the ragged Forestman skidded into camp. With two others, Elacil listened to his story: A rogue knight terrorizing a nearby Forestman villiage.

"Who does he think we are, whelps playing in the forest? I want ten good Forestmen to follow me, you two, ride to Drullen Bell and tell them what's happened!"

Twelve good Forestmen, arrows nocked to their bows, made the two-mile trek to the nearby villiage. Markus had his sword out, and the villiagers were hanging back, some holding pitchforks. Elacil signalled to his forestmen to stand fast, then stepped forward.

"Who are you, and why do you draw blade in Forestman lands?"

Markus sneered and turned toward him.

"My buisness is mine, forestdweller, and I draw sword where I wish."

Elacil drew his own sword and gestured to the fallen Forestman:

"Why did you injure this man?"

"He cheeked me, Forestdweller." sneered Markus.

"You know that if you meant no harm, you would have been let free? We do not suffer rogues to trespass on our lands."

Elacil had finially had enough.

"Sieze him!"

The Forestmen broke cover, twelve bows pulled taught, aimed at Markus.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Back at the Inn that evening, Anardan took Luxus and Dractor to help him construct the sled. In their room, the other five talked about what they had bought while Shainya and Reno sat, a sewing box in between them, mending the company's torn clothes. Every few moments, Reno would offer a muffled apology to the owner of the garment he was sewing when he missed a stich, glancing embarassdly at Shainya's neat stiching. Voolmark unobtrusively nudged his torn cloak from Reno's pile into the mound at Shainya's feet, causing muffled laughter from the rest. It was good to laugh, for Tyco knew when they'd get to laugh like that again.

J-10

Bjarn smiled at Voolmark's antics and went back to polishing his new bow. He had gotten it from a particuarly skilled artisan in Orion, a Forestmen by birth, who made the constructed the best bows and fletched the finest arrows Bjarn had seen in a long while. The bow was two and a half feet long and genty curved. The bowstring was the finest doe's gut provided by a local butcher, and provided 60 pounds of pull. The arrows were also very well made, with finely clipped feathers and a shaft sanded smooth. Bjarn had opted to buy the arrows that were void of metallic heads and were simply fire-harded, for they were cheaper and work almost as well, though it didn't look as impressive.

Soon work on the sled and the cloths was finished, and the Fellowship all settled down to one last night in a warm bed.

The next morning after loading the sled and putting their and repaired clothing, the Fellowship stopped by the Archives to say goodbye to Hans Lentawl who had helped them so much. They all thanked him and he smiled and shook hands with everyone, but when Bjarn attempted to press some money into Hans hand's, the young mad pushed it away and said, "I don't need that. Keep it. I had a great time with you guys, it was a nice break from bookkeeping and translating sickening Elven love ballads."

They all laughed, and Hans continued, "When you get out of the Neverwood, stop by and tell me what happened, will you?"

They promised, then turned to Daner Pluto. The wizard of old smiled genty and embraced all of them one by one.

"Best of luck, all of you." he said at last, "I wish I could join you, but I have other tasks to attend to in other parts of the world."

Daner gave the Sigh of the Elk, and Bjarn returned it. As the Fellowship turned away and began to trudge to the Gate of Orion, Hans called out, "Eth ae tomeo gwathea tod, frgatae una tedgo!"

Luxus turned and replied, "Ae metk gow tawnd, tomeo welvarndye!"

"What did you two just say?" asked Shainya.

"He said, 'All quests come to an end, may yours be joyful as the morning sunrise.' And I said, 'Thanks to you, our quest will be.'"

Shainya smiled.

[Barbapple]

Elacil had finially had enough.

"Sieze him!"

The Forestmen broke cover, twelve bows pulled taught, aimed at Markus.

Grid:O-4
Location: Forestmen Territory

"I know when I've been beat" Said Markus, quietly.
"Good" Replied Elacil, his voice like a whip.
"It is not now." He said, throwing a handfull of ask into Elacil's eyes. Markus quickly darted sideways, avoiding a barrage of arrows from the forest archers, but one hit him in the thigh, and one in the sholder. He mounted his horse quickly and drew his swords.
"This isn't nessisary." Elacil yelled, drawing his bow.
"Markus only looked at him, and kicked his horse to move.
"Fine." Elacil reliced his bow, hitting the barbarrian in the chest.
Markus, who had fliped off his horse, and smashed into the ground as a result of the arrow, was in far too much pain to raise again. Elacil walked up to him.
"Next time you awake,you'll be in prison."
Markus passed out.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

"Any particular reason we did that, Barbod?"
Barbod just smiled, and said, "Something makes me feel like partying tonight."

The Lone Falcon grinned and then heaved himself off the table.

"Oof. I need something in my stomach other than spirits..."

"We should probably head back," said Freena.

Dordrot agreed, and after one last beer they exited the pub. And not a moment too soon. The skies were growing dark, and a frigid wind was beginning to whip up the loose snow and dash it into houses, walls and anyone brave (or stupid) enough to walk about. With heads bent low and arms up to protect exposed faces, Barbod, Dordrot, Freena, the Lone Falcon, Vanderdious and Randoph headed home to the headquarters of the Rebel Resistance.

"There you are!" clucked Mayriz, "You shouldn't be out at this hour...I heard some you fools thought they could brave the streets and were found dead the next day, frozen stiff!"

The weary and chilled Bulls and rebel Falcons brushed snow off themselves and crowded near the fire. A few minutes later Mayriz bustled in and shooed them all to the table, where potato soup and dumplings were waiting. Glad that they, unlike some this chilly winter night, had something warm to fill themselves with, the seven friends cuddled around the worn table and enjoyed supper.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

"Very good, let's depart then." grinned Jerral, "Pullwark, will you give the order?"

Tay smiled a mouthful of pearly teeth and filled his expansive lungs.

"Avast, ye water rats, 'eave to, an' cast off fore an' aft! You lubbers on shore, there, take down that megablocks gangplank before it falls! You, laddie, stop toying with that rope or I'll keelhaul ye..."

Jerral smiled. The soft-hearted Tay would never even give anyone, except a Black Flacon, the evil eye. Jerral moved up to the aft deck and breathed in to pungent sea scent and the King Bardiar scooped up wind in her expansive sails and plowed outward into the seemingly endless blue.

Let the journey begin, Jerral sighed to himself, Let the journey begin...

L-21

It had been four days since the King Bardiar had set sail and nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. No other ships were sighted, for the Bull ship was not traversing any shipping lane or popular route. Once Bull Isle slipped behind the horizon, the everything that made the ship a Bull ship was removed. Bull-head flags were removes, sailors and soldier changed into common tan robes, and the name plaque watch turned around to reveal a bogus name, the Little Lion.

Jerral smiled as he watched his crew work the sails and ropes and rudder just as efficiently as any Crusader. They were good Bulls, all of them, hand-picked by Jerral himself. Even the young lad Peter McSournley was putting his back into it, willingly doing any task asked of him. The lad had matured a lot since he had returned to Bull Isle with the Barbarian Blood and Fleetwood many months ago, and now instead of the bumbling and awkward teenage he was turning into a decent sailor and soldier.

Jerral nodded in satisfaction. Now all they could do was wait until they reached the mainland.

[Sir Drake]

Grid: M-8
Location: Drullen Bell Keep
_____________________

Rosa was helping the holymen and women to nurse the wounded while Radja was talking to a soldier.

"What happened?" he asked the wounded man.
"We were crossing the Hemlock River, and suddenly we heard the howling of wolves, we looked around, but we saw nothing..."

The soldier stopped and took some breath, then he continued his story.

"Then, arrows fletched with thousands from nowhere, but luckely not many of them made it to their targets, them Megablocks fell upon us as fifty Wolf Pack soldiers ran upon us"
"But how did you survived that? That's almost imposible..."
"We fought bravely and even killed twenty-five or more of them, but then another volley came on us, this time we weren't that lucky...; we heard shouting out of the treeline, someone was slaughtering those archers with great speed, the one after the other fell in the river..."

"We had some hope again, but allready half of the men were wounded or killed, some Dragon Masters and some Wolf Pack warriors came out of the treeline killing those barbarians and then an arrow flew right in Aaylah's shoulder, she fell but tried to fight trough but then she was hit by another arrow, in her breast this time, Frayla came to help her but she was hit trough a sword" he continued his story "Fraun came to help them but he there were just too many, I saw a Wolf Pack warrior heading for him and he helped Fraun, once the Wolf Pack soldiers were defeated Fraun and the newlings searched for survivors, an enemie soldier wasn't dead enough yet and tried to kill Aaylah, but when he tried to slash his troath was sliced and he dropped his sword"
"Who killed that soldier?"
"It was one of those Wolf Pack warriors who fought on our side...he helped her as much as he could, he even gave her his cloak to keep her warm, that's all I can remember, then I past out" he said, he was searching for breath, but clearly he didn't found it...

"Help this man, someone help him!!!" Radjar yelled.
But all help was too late, the man didn't survive his story.
Radjar's eye went wet, as it seemed he was starting to cry, but he didn't. He went went trough so many deaths his life, so many people he killed, but when he saw this man dying something snatched.
_______________________________

The death of thousands is a statistic, the death of one is a tragedy
_______________________________
These were the wise words his father gave him once he was still a kid. Suddenly a voice snapped out of his thoughts.
"Hi Radjar, are you OK?" Rosa asked.

On a different place in this chapel, whom served as a hospital, Swift searched for Aaylah, Fraun searched for Frayla.
"Hey there, how are you, Aaylah?"
"I'm fine, thanks..., how do you know my name?"
"You're brother told me that, he's a real gentle person"
"I know, I've haven't thanked you yet" she said softly, pulling Swift closer to her. She kissed him gently on his cheek whispering in his ear:"Thank you, thank you for saving me...
"It,..., it was nothing" Swift said quietly.
It was for the first time he saw her closely, she was beautiful, very beautiful, this reminded him of an old story his father told him, about Nymphs who live with the gods and sometimes come down to Earth...

Fraun was at Frayla's bed, she sat up 'cause she wasn't hurt that bad as Aaylah.
"Hey, Fraun" she said, while she smiled.
"Hi, Frayla"
"Thank you for helping me, without you, I would probably never been here anymore"
"I just didn't want to lose you again, that were the most miserable times of my life, I'll better go check my sister now" Fraun gasped, he was touched by Frayla's caring about him. He stood up and went to his sister.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Markus, who had fliped off his horse, and smashed into the ground as a result of the arrow, was in far too much pain to raise again. Elacil walked up to him.
"Next time you awake,you'll be in prison."
Markus passed out.

P-4

True to Elacil's word, Markus found himself behind bars when he at last came to his senses. He groaned, then swore in pain. The arrows had been removed from his body by someone else, but the wounds were crudely wrapped and no healing ointment had been applied.

Markus sat up and suddenly realized that the trees outside his barred windows were moving. No, on second thought, he was, as well as his prison.

A Forestman popped into view, a smiling fellow with burnt a orange goatee and moustache, wearing a standard pointy Forestmen cap and dressed in faded red and green. He nodded at Markus and tossed in a jug and a loaf of not-to-hard bread.

"So yer 'wake, I see."

"Megabloks."

"Not very friendly, are ya?"

"Tyco."

"Well, we'll see what else your vocabulary holds after a month in a stinking fetid cell with only bread and water and every species of rodent ye can imagine. Us Forestmen don't take kinda to blokes 'o trespass and murder."

"Shifty-brick."

The Forestmen sighed, then trotted to the head of the line where four horse were pulling the prisoner cart. One top of the cart was another Forestman, hold the leads loosing in one had while chewing on some jerky with the other.

"Hey, Harq, what news?"

The driver looked down.

"Advance scouts have alerted your brother at Guabol Telvaev Prison. They'll have a warm welcome for our chump..."

They both chuckled ominously.

_______________________________

The death of thousands is a statistic, the death of one is a tragedy
_______________________________
These were the wise words his father gave him once he was still a kid. Suddenly a voice snapped out of his thoughts.
"Hi Radjar, are you OK?" Rosa asked.

"I'm fine, tyco..." swore Radjar, then slammed out of the infirmey.

Rosa follow him out quiet, then took his arm.

"I thought the Fell War was over!" Radjar burst out, "But all that sacrifice was for naught!"