Yurva and her father went out to hunt for food after they had set camp. They went out with three others, her close companion, Rionne, was one amongst them. The rest were Se'Porven and Se'Hurlaf. Hurlaf and Porven were both hunters. Hurlaf had a tall with a strong body and had hair with the style of other common Dwelven men, long and braided. He was bold yet he was reckless, a complete opposite to Porven who was careful and often cowardish. They went out at noon when the sun was still high yet was slowly sinking to the horizon. After they had gathered their supplies, the five of them sent out on their fenris, headed to a nearby forest. After a while, they arrived and the hunt began. For hours they searched and waited yet not one single deer was sighted. Time had then run quick before them and the sun started to fall near on the horizon. Not long after they decided to retreat and head home for the clouds began to turn dark.
Suddenly, Yurva exclaimed "Father! I have eyed the Wolf of Onegra!" while chasing forward after what she claimed to have sighted with the hunting party chasing her. She chased the glowing white wolf through the trees and bushes on her ride and just as she was about to reach the wolf, it vanished into a million pieces of glowing white dust. But soon she realized where the mystic wolf had led her. Through the forest she could see before her very eyes that startled her. Then the party arrived. Lights of fire and the anxiety of helpless peasants were reflected on Yurva's eyes. Large hideous monsters wielding axes could be seen battling and slaying peasants that were fleeing for their life while the Royal Guards of Timbroch could be seen barely fighting, more precisely, cowering. Some of those so called Noble Warriors even ran off with their tails between their legs. Then Hurlaf said with his deep toned voice, "Let us save what we can and salvage what can be. Those peasants have suffered enough from the reign of their king, now they have to go through this."
"This is not our battle, sire! We are not armed for combat, we merely came out here to hunt for supplies," Porven replied.
"My daughter had chased The Wolf of Onegra and it has led us here. It was said that Onegra's Wolf only appears itself by the will of Onegra herself. It is clear that this is a sign from the wolf goddess herself. We must help them."
Porven, with a look reflecting a terrified feeling on his face, replied "But sire, which should we save? It is dark and it is all a turmoil!"
"Save those unarmed and help those of the Timbroch. Now go!" Then Grehya rode off with the party following him.
Screamings of war cries filled the air while arrows cuts through the winds. One ferocious orc gripping an axe on his right hand and a round wooden shield strapped on his left and booted with fine body armor made of strong leather raged through the green plains behind the villages on the hills towards his foes. There was nothing else on the field else the ravaging foul beasts ravaging against the soldiers of the kingdom and the corpse of the fallen warriors with their broken banners and flags, stained by the blood of slain peasants. The sound of clanging metal could be heard from a mile away, and the sound of scraping iron even cuts the air. The party led by Grehya spread as they entered the battlefield. Grehya went with Porven and Hurlaf while Yurva with Rionne. Armed with each a bow and a quiver full they simultaneously retracted and released their arrows causing casualties for the orcs. Within only minutes Grehya already had taken the souls of tens of orcs. It was nothing new he thought to himself. Besides the conflict occurring the lands at the moment he once served to the royal army as a field captain. He rode about and fired arrows to those orcs he saw chasing and threatening dwelvens, both peasants and soldiers alike. Later he was thrown away from his ride and flying through the air after being battered by a solid wooden club of what's called a Jarvak, a race of the orcs which was large in size and brute in strength yet very low in intelligence and barely knows how to speak. The jarvak walked long steps towards Grehya, which was lying on the ground crawling on the soil trying to reach his short sword, while bringing on his hand a large wooden club, ready to strike the bandit lord. Yurva, from afar, had seen this and placed an arrow on the strings of her bow and pulled it as far as she could and took aim and let the arrow loose. The arrow flew piercing the wind, bypassing the blood of the slain that burst into the air, and hit an orc on the neck yet the arrow still flew through the creature, impaling and piercing its neck, and landed on the jarvak's forehead, causing it to fall and made the ground to slightly quake.
Grehya stood up and shouted, "Lead the people into the forest!" He ran towards a dwelven officer that was also about to be battered by a jarvak and grabbed him and whistled for his ride.
The dwelvens, soldiers and peasants alike, retired towards the dark forest which was a perfect place to retreat for the dwelvens for the orcs have poor eyesight and they, on the other hand, do. Yet the orcs did not seem to hesitate and kept on with the pursuit. Grehya ordered those who wield a bow to ready their arrows and take a ground where they were unconcealed and to strafe at command.
"Steady now, take your aim carefully," said Grehya to the marksman. "Now fire!"
And the orcs were butchered down with the rain of arrows of the dwelvens. The rest of the surviving orcs retreated, leaving their equipments behind. The officer of the troops expressed his gratitude by bidding him his appreciation in words and in granting Grehya his allegiance. They returned to the fields to salvage the equipment left to be salvaged and also the bodies of the fallen to be cremated in a proper funeral.
It took quite a while for the scavengers to clean the mess. They founded axes, swords, bows, arrows and all sorts of weaponry and shields. The peasants of the town decided to join the bandits and shared their remaining stock of food with them. When they finished they headed to the camp of the bandits. However, Yurva decided to stay put at the forest for she had listened to something odd, a soft female voice that called out her name. Grehya told Rionne to accompany Yurva and they both went deeper into the forest while the hoard had marched their way to camp.
"Why do you even want to go deeper into the forest at a time like this, Yurva?"
Yurva had not heard what he said, although he said it loud and clear. They both rode deeper and deeper and Yurva heard the voice calling her name more louder and louder but Riolle could not hear anything but the snap of broken twigs stepped by their fenrises. As it got louder and louder Yurva got more anxious and curious until finally it stopped. But when it stopped, a white figure with blue gleaming eyes revealed itself for the second time. This time, Rionne also saw the wolf. They both paced pursuing the mystic wolf and went on for miles and miles until having the wolf to stop its pace. The wolf halted on a large glowing pond, standing on water, and in front of a giant lily plant. Yurva and Rionne halted in amaze, they could not say a word and gazed deeply into the view. Then from the pond glowed a bright beam of blue and came out a tall, white, and beautiful lady that had shining blue eyes with that had a blue gemstone placed above them. Her hair was dark and it was long that was dressed quite odd but not less beautiful than the rest of her figure. She was wrapped in a white shining dress around her body and was barefooted. She had no jewelry on her except the one on her forehead. As she arose from the deep pond her wolf roared so loud that the forest had trembled.
She stood beside the large lily that had not blossomed and exclaimed, "I am Onegra."
Minggu, 20 Desember 2009
Senin, 14 Desember 2009
Queen of Timbroch - Part III
Years had passed ever since La’Arow rose to throne and reined Timbroch. Timbria was then seperated into three major forces, no longer united as one, and clashing against one another. On the east were the orcs that were building villages and towns, gathering force to expand their power and next to it, on the west, was the remaining of Timbroch. The rest that wast left of Timbroch was the resisting forces fighting against the new age of La'Arow's reign and the brutal rule of the orcs. The peasants suffered from being enslaved by both the orcs and Timbroch and slaughtered by the orcs or dying of hunger and misery by the rule of King La’Arow. The once almighty soldiers of Timbroch were then nothing more but a mere tool for the evil King and his own private purpose. There were many that opposed the king, but they all were silenced by the sword. Even the members of the Royal Court who were loyal to the old order resigned and left the kingdom, seeking refuge. Some survived yet most were captured and forced to swear allegiance to their new king or to face the executioner. The Royal Court which was once a glorious place for the wise to prevail the life of Timbroch became a court filled with corruption and greed caused by deception and foul blood. Corruption had not only spread within the royal court yet it had spread all over the Western Forest. Blood of the innocents had stained the once pure soil causing the inhabitants of the forest to change. The druids and nymphs never shown their faces anymore, the trees no longer walk and speak and barely even rain their petals upon Timbroch as before, and the spirits of the forest became nothing more than an evil entity, dragging souls into the trees they dwell in. The once glorious Timbroch then became a wasteland.
On the far south of Timbria, on the barren lands which was once a green forest roamed a hoard of bandits. Those bandits were riding on a large, four horned which was two on his front and one each beside his ears, hard skinned and barely with fur, a long tail with some hair on the edge, grey tredri, with large bags on their back, from the soldiers chasing behind them. On front of the tribe was a young girl riding on her tredri and leading the way on the chase. That young girl was tall in height, had white skin, and had a pair of golden shining eyes and long white hair blown back by the wind. She had a quiver of arrows on her left side of her back, and on her right hand she held tight a lace to control her tredri, and on her left, her short bow. She wore a ragged gray robe and wore a rope on her waist as a belt and on that rope hanged a dagger with a round golden symbol carved on the tang which is the carving of the emblem of the white dragon, Zhevrian. That girl was Re’Yurva, and that dagger on her waist belonged to her mother, Re’Drina. Re’Drina then grabbed her short bow and took an arrow and fired towards the soldiers chasing behind them, also riding on tredris. Then the hoard behind her started showering the soldiers with a rain of arrows following their leader. The soldiers, of course, did not receive much damage for they were equipped with their shields and armor. Only few were wounded and fell off their ride. Soon they entered the once known as the one thousand trees and spread directions.
For a moment, Yurva thought she had lost the soldiers chasing her but two riders came from the side and jumped and crashed on her, tackling her down to the ground. She rolled over and stood and ran as fast as she could. As a dwelven her capability of running was unquestionable. She ran and kept running trying to outrun the soldiers behind her. The soldiers were left behind but not too far for they were also a Dwelven as she was which also have the capability to run as the wind as other Dwelvens. But Yurva was not an ordinary Dwelven. She could run faster than any other Dwelven, she was the fastest runner compared to the other members of her hoard and she also had excellent arching skills. One of the soldiers ran across the forest and the other chased from afar riding on its tendris. Yurva took a leap and landed on a branch of a tall tree and took her bow. She then placed an arrow on the string and pulled, aiming with one eye and fired at the rider causing it to fall and roll. She leaped from branch to branch and finally reached her camp. The camp was situated behind a tall hill in a valley nearby a small river. That river flowed On the hills of the valley there were sentries guarding and watching over the camp.
"Welcome home my child" greeted the head of the hoard. "I see you have returned without a ride, a very unusual sight! What happened?"
"I left it behind in the forest, father. I was chased by two Royal Riders and was ambushed." said Yurva to Grehya, the head of the hoard, which was also her father.
"I see... Now, take a rest and feed yourself my child! Tomorrow is a big day and we shall need all of our strenght," said Grehya to her daughter. Then Yurva walked to her tent to clean up. The camp she lived with her horde was not too big and not small either. The whole camp was filled with bandits and they lived on the road, they never stayed at one place, a nomad. They had to move around each time because of the bounty over their heads. They became thieves not because of their will, but because of the new order led by the reign of King La'Arow. They did not pillage the weak for their personal reasons but they steal caravans or military supply units of the Royal Kingdom of Timbroch or the orcs. Sometimes they even raid military camps and steal weapons and supplies from the soldier. These bandits named themselves The White Shadows. Not long after Yurva arrived, her riders that followed her from before came with their loot from earlier.
The morning sun had risen and before the first light had touched the grounds, The white Shadows had already left for another resting place. The White Shadows traveled mostly on beasts for they need to save their strength to engage in combat when needed. They traveled through the barren wasteland once used to be filled with trees yet now even grass could hardly be found. Yurva rode her ride, Vherven, a white and gigantic wolf, about four times the size of Yurva herself, twice the height of Yurva and with fangs as daggers hiding in its mouth. Its white fur was long and soft and warm and its eyes were the same as Yurva, glowing gold. Yurva had Vherven ever since she was a child. Yurva and Vherven grew together and shared a bond, as if Yurva could feel what Vhersen felt and Vherven to Yurva. Beside Yurva rides her best friend, Rionne, riding on top of a gray fenris, as Yurva. Behind them was the caravan of the hoard and in front was the other riders and there was Grehya and a few other elders leading the way. Amongst those elders was Fufnir the Wise, an old Dwelven which once served the Royal Council as an advisor. She was quite old yet very wise.
They traveled for quite a while through the lands. On their way they traveled through many memories of their once glorious kingdom. A quite happy memory, yet painful knowing all what was left was only memories. They passed through rubble and pieces of statues torn apart. Trees that used to be found everywhere seemed to lessen. There were no more rains of petals falling down from trees that almost touched the sky. In the sky there could be seen ships hovering from one platform of heaven to another. Angels could be sighted flying in formations through the clouds heading for their home. Sometimes battles in the sky could be seen from below, only that day the sky was at peace. Suddenly, the ground began to shake. The caravan had to halt.
Cries of war could be heard not far from the horde, followed with a giant roar. Then another quake shook the ground causing Yurva to fall from her fenris and rolled away. She stood up straight and took a walk to the hill in front of her that blocks the source of the war cries and roars while cleaning her robe from the dust she had gotten from the ground. She stared speechless at what she gazed. Of course, that was a normal reaction for she saw standing tall a white, large, 60-foot tall, fire breathing cave dragon, blasting fire out of it's mouth at a small group of orcs, roasting them in seconds. The dragon was obviously raging, judging from its aggressiveness. No dragon would attack on its own will unless it feels threatened, those orcs must have been wandering around its home or so. One of the orcs charged on towards the dragon on its tredri but got easily whipped by the dragons tail full of spikes, causing the orc to be airborne and landed several miles away. Yurva was not too surprised watching the rampaging dragon slaughtering the orcs. What surprised her was the eyes of the dragon that gazed straight to her eyes, those eyes seemed familiar to Yurva. The dragon then spat out a last fireball to the orcs and flew towards Yurva and landed right in front of her. Both of them continued to gaze deep into each other while the crowd behind her withered in fear. But it seemed that Yurva felt no fear at all.
"Yurva! On her neck!" shouted her father. It seemed that Yurvas father know more of dragons than she does, he even could differ which are male and which are female. It seemed that on that white dragons chest was an emblem so familliar to Yurva but she could not remember. "Your dagger Yurva! That is Zhevrian!" shouted her father again. Then she reached her waist on her belt and realized that the emblem on the dragons chest was the same carving on the tang of her dagger. "Show her your blade, my child!" said her father. So she approached and showed Zhevrian her blade. The blade began to shine bright so as the emblem on her neck. Then that mighty tall and ferocious dragon raised her wings and flapped down a heavy gust upon the crowd and started flying up high and away. "That was Zhevrian, my child," said Grehya. "He was the dragon of the blade, a dragon that was once tamed and conquered and belonged to a noble," Grehya continued. Then Grehya ordered the others to line up and continue their journey.
On that journey, Yurva rode closely to her father. It was dark already but they kept on moving. Then Yurva started to talk. "Father..." Yurva called her father. "Was that noble that you said earlier..." Yurva paused a minute but his father nodded, knowing what's in his daughters' mind.
"Every noble Dwelven has a dragon my child. Now that you're mother's gone you are the successor of that dragon. You are the owner of Zhevrian."
"But why does she flee when I showed her the blade?" replied Yurva.
"That dragon was your mothers, Yurva. It seemed that it was not ready to be yours. If you are to own her, you must prove yourself to her that you are worthy. You must take the case of the dagger hanged on the dragons ear in the dragons lair itself. Until then, you are unworthy."
Then the both of them and the tribe stopped nearby a lake to rest and spend the night. It was quite cold and all that they had to keep themselves warm were their clothes and their blankets. The cold air had not bother Yurva a bit though, her and her wild thoughts...
On the far south of Timbria, on the barren lands which was once a green forest roamed a hoard of bandits. Those bandits were riding on a large, four horned which was two on his front and one each beside his ears, hard skinned and barely with fur, a long tail with some hair on the edge, grey tredri, with large bags on their back, from the soldiers chasing behind them. On front of the tribe was a young girl riding on her tredri and leading the way on the chase. That young girl was tall in height, had white skin, and had a pair of golden shining eyes and long white hair blown back by the wind. She had a quiver of arrows on her left side of her back, and on her right hand she held tight a lace to control her tredri, and on her left, her short bow. She wore a ragged gray robe and wore a rope on her waist as a belt and on that rope hanged a dagger with a round golden symbol carved on the tang which is the carving of the emblem of the white dragon, Zhevrian. That girl was Re’Yurva, and that dagger on her waist belonged to her mother, Re’Drina. Re’Drina then grabbed her short bow and took an arrow and fired towards the soldiers chasing behind them, also riding on tredris. Then the hoard behind her started showering the soldiers with a rain of arrows following their leader. The soldiers, of course, did not receive much damage for they were equipped with their shields and armor. Only few were wounded and fell off their ride. Soon they entered the once known as the one thousand trees and spread directions.
For a moment, Yurva thought she had lost the soldiers chasing her but two riders came from the side and jumped and crashed on her, tackling her down to the ground. She rolled over and stood and ran as fast as she could. As a dwelven her capability of running was unquestionable. She ran and kept running trying to outrun the soldiers behind her. The soldiers were left behind but not too far for they were also a Dwelven as she was which also have the capability to run as the wind as other Dwelvens. But Yurva was not an ordinary Dwelven. She could run faster than any other Dwelven, she was the fastest runner compared to the other members of her hoard and she also had excellent arching skills. One of the soldiers ran across the forest and the other chased from afar riding on its tendris. Yurva took a leap and landed on a branch of a tall tree and took her bow. She then placed an arrow on the string and pulled, aiming with one eye and fired at the rider causing it to fall and roll. She leaped from branch to branch and finally reached her camp. The camp was situated behind a tall hill in a valley nearby a small river. That river flowed On the hills of the valley there were sentries guarding and watching over the camp.
"Welcome home my child" greeted the head of the hoard. "I see you have returned without a ride, a very unusual sight! What happened?"
"I left it behind in the forest, father. I was chased by two Royal Riders and was ambushed." said Yurva to Grehya, the head of the hoard, which was also her father.
"I see... Now, take a rest and feed yourself my child! Tomorrow is a big day and we shall need all of our strenght," said Grehya to her daughter. Then Yurva walked to her tent to clean up. The camp she lived with her horde was not too big and not small either. The whole camp was filled with bandits and they lived on the road, they never stayed at one place, a nomad. They had to move around each time because of the bounty over their heads. They became thieves not because of their will, but because of the new order led by the reign of King La'Arow. They did not pillage the weak for their personal reasons but they steal caravans or military supply units of the Royal Kingdom of Timbroch or the orcs. Sometimes they even raid military camps and steal weapons and supplies from the soldier. These bandits named themselves The White Shadows. Not long after Yurva arrived, her riders that followed her from before came with their loot from earlier.
The morning sun had risen and before the first light had touched the grounds, The white Shadows had already left for another resting place. The White Shadows traveled mostly on beasts for they need to save their strength to engage in combat when needed. They traveled through the barren wasteland once used to be filled with trees yet now even grass could hardly be found. Yurva rode her ride, Vherven, a white and gigantic wolf, about four times the size of Yurva herself, twice the height of Yurva and with fangs as daggers hiding in its mouth. Its white fur was long and soft and warm and its eyes were the same as Yurva, glowing gold. Yurva had Vherven ever since she was a child. Yurva and Vherven grew together and shared a bond, as if Yurva could feel what Vhersen felt and Vherven to Yurva. Beside Yurva rides her best friend, Rionne, riding on top of a gray fenris, as Yurva. Behind them was the caravan of the hoard and in front was the other riders and there was Grehya and a few other elders leading the way. Amongst those elders was Fufnir the Wise, an old Dwelven which once served the Royal Council as an advisor. She was quite old yet very wise.
They traveled for quite a while through the lands. On their way they traveled through many memories of their once glorious kingdom. A quite happy memory, yet painful knowing all what was left was only memories. They passed through rubble and pieces of statues torn apart. Trees that used to be found everywhere seemed to lessen. There were no more rains of petals falling down from trees that almost touched the sky. In the sky there could be seen ships hovering from one platform of heaven to another. Angels could be sighted flying in formations through the clouds heading for their home. Sometimes battles in the sky could be seen from below, only that day the sky was at peace. Suddenly, the ground began to shake. The caravan had to halt.
Cries of war could be heard not far from the horde, followed with a giant roar. Then another quake shook the ground causing Yurva to fall from her fenris and rolled away. She stood up straight and took a walk to the hill in front of her that blocks the source of the war cries and roars while cleaning her robe from the dust she had gotten from the ground. She stared speechless at what she gazed. Of course, that was a normal reaction for she saw standing tall a white, large, 60-foot tall, fire breathing cave dragon, blasting fire out of it's mouth at a small group of orcs, roasting them in seconds. The dragon was obviously raging, judging from its aggressiveness. No dragon would attack on its own will unless it feels threatened, those orcs must have been wandering around its home or so. One of the orcs charged on towards the dragon on its tredri but got easily whipped by the dragons tail full of spikes, causing the orc to be airborne and landed several miles away. Yurva was not too surprised watching the rampaging dragon slaughtering the orcs. What surprised her was the eyes of the dragon that gazed straight to her eyes, those eyes seemed familiar to Yurva. The dragon then spat out a last fireball to the orcs and flew towards Yurva and landed right in front of her. Both of them continued to gaze deep into each other while the crowd behind her withered in fear. But it seemed that Yurva felt no fear at all.
"Yurva! On her neck!" shouted her father. It seemed that Yurvas father know more of dragons than she does, he even could differ which are male and which are female. It seemed that on that white dragons chest was an emblem so familliar to Yurva but she could not remember. "Your dagger Yurva! That is Zhevrian!" shouted her father again. Then she reached her waist on her belt and realized that the emblem on the dragons chest was the same carving on the tang of her dagger. "Show her your blade, my child!" said her father. So she approached and showed Zhevrian her blade. The blade began to shine bright so as the emblem on her neck. Then that mighty tall and ferocious dragon raised her wings and flapped down a heavy gust upon the crowd and started flying up high and away. "That was Zhevrian, my child," said Grehya. "He was the dragon of the blade, a dragon that was once tamed and conquered and belonged to a noble," Grehya continued. Then Grehya ordered the others to line up and continue their journey.
On that journey, Yurva rode closely to her father. It was dark already but they kept on moving. Then Yurva started to talk. "Father..." Yurva called her father. "Was that noble that you said earlier..." Yurva paused a minute but his father nodded, knowing what's in his daughters' mind.
"Every noble Dwelven has a dragon my child. Now that you're mother's gone you are the successor of that dragon. You are the owner of Zhevrian."
"But why does she flee when I showed her the blade?" replied Yurva.
"That dragon was your mothers, Yurva. It seemed that it was not ready to be yours. If you are to own her, you must prove yourself to her that you are worthy. You must take the case of the dagger hanged on the dragons ear in the dragons lair itself. Until then, you are unworthy."
Then the both of them and the tribe stopped nearby a lake to rest and spend the night. It was quite cold and all that they had to keep themselves warm were their clothes and their blankets. The cold air had not bother Yurva a bit though, her and her wild thoughts...
Selasa, 01 Desember 2009
Queen of Timbroch - Part II
For years the orcs had tried to reclaim what was was theirs, the lands they used to live upon which then belonged to Timbroch.They sent their finest warriors to arms.Battles raged on the borders of Timbria without hesitation. The orcs traveled across the sea by rafts and boats. They come with their maces and on mount of their beasts. They traveled on towards Timbroch alongside with fear that they spread along the way yet their beasts, their drums and their armors were no match against Timbroch. Later on after battles and after battles, finally, Timbroch felt peace once again.
The armories that were once filled with armors and weapons were emptied. Soldiers who used to feel the boiling blood of war within their veins now rest once again as farmers and hunters. No more soldiers were seen battle-ready at each corner of Timbria as they used to be. The barracks were emptied for soldiers were not necessary in the time of peace. Children could be seen again laughing and cheering, playing with each other under the rain of falling petals from the tall trees of Timbroch and the warm scattered rays of the sun from the seventh heaven. The Cythman river flown without blood once again as it used to many years ago. Weapon production which was primary in the time of war was halted and The Great King himself declared a time of peace. Unfortunately... That time of peace didn't last long...
On one bright but cool day a scout came running as fast as she could toward Ves Nira, the capital of Timbroch and also the name of the King's residence bringing along with her bad news to the Dwelven King. Through the gates she paced and went straight through the guards and almost pierced by an arrow, mistaken for someone else. She went through the main entrance of the castle and ran through the hallways of Ves Nira and went straight to the council chamber where the king held his annual meeting. With a racing heartbeat and with almost no breath left in her lungs she reported her news. At first and last the king showed no expression at all when he heard his news and not even he replied. But underneath that calmness there was grim fear in his heart and his mind.
Five thousand battle ships containing at least eight thousand orcs on each ship completely armed with their hammers and axes and their beasts were spotted from Timbria crossing the waters coursing towards Timbria. Later on that day the wise king called upon his warlords and advisers, his strong and his wise, to attend his royal court. He sat on his seat up high while his members below him.
"It will be much safer for us to build our fortification near the waters and near the capital. We should use our remaining time to build walls and gather our troops, we are unready and the enemy is approaching as we speak!" spoke one of the royal General.
Another of the royal court member, Viol, said, "It will be much efficient for us to strike first. We should gather our troops and sail forth head on towards their fleet, that should provide us with enough time to build our defense."
Then the King looked at his son and raised his hand gently as a sign for the royal court to be silent for the king shall speak. The king stayed mute for a moment then he said "what do you propose, young prince?"
Prince La'Arow, his only son said from his place "Our army is strong enough to repel our enemy with ease. I propose that we use what's available and gather all of our strong and capable men with the help of our barons and set sail while I lead my men here to build our palisades. The troops set sail are only to buy time and cause maximum damage with minimum casualty and are to retreat back to the mainland. There our troops and the Nymphs, Druids, and the entire forest shall be ready"
The king smiled faintly and stared at his son. In a low toned voice he said "And that is what shall be done"
The entire court became chaotic. Warlords and chancellors argue against each other, shouting and pointing and cursing. Suddenly the wise king stood and shouted "The choice has been made! Those who oppose are to leave Timbroch and never return. Those who are to stay and fight, do as you are told." Then one by one the members of the council stood and those who already stood left.
The next day the army from all over Timnbroch were gathered and battle-ready.The king walked out of his residence and stood on a stage upon his army with the royal sword on his right and the people of Timbroch kneel as soon as he took his first step up. He took a long look at his men and women, ready for battle and prepared to meet their doom. With a loud voice he started to speak, "People of Timbroch! Today I stand upon you to see the faces of this land once more or perhaps for the last time for the sorcerers and sorceress had visioned my death on this very day. But if that is what is needed to save the lives of my people and the land of Timbroch, then so be it! If I must, then I shall march alone and die alone for my people rather than having to live to be slaved and bow down to those beasts. If I shall die today, then it is for Timbroch. For those who wish to fight not for me, but for their land, for their family, and for their freedom, arise and lift your weapons up high in your arms, your armors on your chests, and your spirits in your souls and march towards the army of the dammed with me! Victory is in our grasps!" The soldiers stood up and started shouting war cries and on they march along with their king. And so the battle at sea began. Thousands of orcish ships clashed with the dwelvens. Arrows flew from afar from the dwelvens while axes flew close by from the orcs. Shamans castes magic and threw fireballs from their hands and thunderbolts from their staffs while the dwelven sorcerers summoned whips of waves cutting the orcish ships. When it was time, the king on his royal barge signaled a retreat by firing a whistling arrow. His royal barge turned his directions and rowed against the wind towards the mainland. When they were near the king ordered his men to light a signal fire showing that they are friend and not foe. Instead, he was bombarded by a rain of arrows killing most of his men and injuring him, impaling his right shoulder causing him to fall. Then a ship approached near and docked next to the royal barge. Prince La'Arow walked through the bridge connecting the two ships with his sword. The king did not show fear and was not surprised seeing his son. The king only said "Do what you must" and was decapitated later on by his own son.
Timbroch was then ruled by a new king, king La'Ara, the once prince La'Arow who then changed his name. The orcs came and took many of Timbria and also the people of Timbroch to be enslaved. Timbria became a chaos. Nymphs and Druids fled to the south while most of the dwelvens were turned to slaves. Those who resisted either were executed or fled to become bandits.
In the midst of this chaos, a girl ran from the tyrant, La'Ara and grew and lived amongst the bandits and married Grehya, a bandit lord and gave birth to a daughter. That woman was then slayed by orcs when searching for food for her daughter. That woman was the sister of King La'Ara, Re'Drina. And as the prophet said, her daughter shall grow and free the people of Timbroch...
The armories that were once filled with armors and weapons were emptied. Soldiers who used to feel the boiling blood of war within their veins now rest once again as farmers and hunters. No more soldiers were seen battle-ready at each corner of Timbria as they used to be. The barracks were emptied for soldiers were not necessary in the time of peace. Children could be seen again laughing and cheering, playing with each other under the rain of falling petals from the tall trees of Timbroch and the warm scattered rays of the sun from the seventh heaven. The Cythman river flown without blood once again as it used to many years ago. Weapon production which was primary in the time of war was halted and The Great King himself declared a time of peace. Unfortunately... That time of peace didn't last long...
On one bright but cool day a scout came running as fast as she could toward Ves Nira, the capital of Timbroch and also the name of the King's residence bringing along with her bad news to the Dwelven King. Through the gates she paced and went straight through the guards and almost pierced by an arrow, mistaken for someone else. She went through the main entrance of the castle and ran through the hallways of Ves Nira and went straight to the council chamber where the king held his annual meeting. With a racing heartbeat and with almost no breath left in her lungs she reported her news. At first and last the king showed no expression at all when he heard his news and not even he replied. But underneath that calmness there was grim fear in his heart and his mind.
Five thousand battle ships containing at least eight thousand orcs on each ship completely armed with their hammers and axes and their beasts were spotted from Timbria crossing the waters coursing towards Timbria. Later on that day the wise king called upon his warlords and advisers, his strong and his wise, to attend his royal court. He sat on his seat up high while his members below him.
"It will be much safer for us to build our fortification near the waters and near the capital. We should use our remaining time to build walls and gather our troops, we are unready and the enemy is approaching as we speak!" spoke one of the royal General.
Another of the royal court member, Viol, said, "It will be much efficient for us to strike first. We should gather our troops and sail forth head on towards their fleet, that should provide us with enough time to build our defense."
Then the King looked at his son and raised his hand gently as a sign for the royal court to be silent for the king shall speak. The king stayed mute for a moment then he said "what do you propose, young prince?"
Prince La'Arow, his only son said from his place "Our army is strong enough to repel our enemy with ease. I propose that we use what's available and gather all of our strong and capable men with the help of our barons and set sail while I lead my men here to build our palisades. The troops set sail are only to buy time and cause maximum damage with minimum casualty and are to retreat back to the mainland. There our troops and the Nymphs, Druids, and the entire forest shall be ready"
The king smiled faintly and stared at his son. In a low toned voice he said "And that is what shall be done"
The entire court became chaotic. Warlords and chancellors argue against each other, shouting and pointing and cursing. Suddenly the wise king stood and shouted "The choice has been made! Those who oppose are to leave Timbroch and never return. Those who are to stay and fight, do as you are told." Then one by one the members of the council stood and those who already stood left.
The next day the army from all over Timnbroch were gathered and battle-ready.The king walked out of his residence and stood on a stage upon his army with the royal sword on his right and the people of Timbroch kneel as soon as he took his first step up. He took a long look at his men and women, ready for battle and prepared to meet their doom. With a loud voice he started to speak, "People of Timbroch! Today I stand upon you to see the faces of this land once more or perhaps for the last time for the sorcerers and sorceress had visioned my death on this very day. But if that is what is needed to save the lives of my people and the land of Timbroch, then so be it! If I must, then I shall march alone and die alone for my people rather than having to live to be slaved and bow down to those beasts. If I shall die today, then it is for Timbroch. For those who wish to fight not for me, but for their land, for their family, and for their freedom, arise and lift your weapons up high in your arms, your armors on your chests, and your spirits in your souls and march towards the army of the dammed with me! Victory is in our grasps!" The soldiers stood up and started shouting war cries and on they march along with their king. And so the battle at sea began. Thousands of orcish ships clashed with the dwelvens. Arrows flew from afar from the dwelvens while axes flew close by from the orcs. Shamans castes magic and threw fireballs from their hands and thunderbolts from their staffs while the dwelven sorcerers summoned whips of waves cutting the orcish ships. When it was time, the king on his royal barge signaled a retreat by firing a whistling arrow. His royal barge turned his directions and rowed against the wind towards the mainland. When they were near the king ordered his men to light a signal fire showing that they are friend and not foe. Instead, he was bombarded by a rain of arrows killing most of his men and injuring him, impaling his right shoulder causing him to fall. Then a ship approached near and docked next to the royal barge. Prince La'Arow walked through the bridge connecting the two ships with his sword. The king did not show fear and was not surprised seeing his son. The king only said "Do what you must" and was decapitated later on by his own son.
Timbroch was then ruled by a new king, king La'Ara, the once prince La'Arow who then changed his name. The orcs came and took many of Timbria and also the people of Timbroch to be enslaved. Timbria became a chaos. Nymphs and Druids fled to the south while most of the dwelvens were turned to slaves. Those who resisted either were executed or fled to become bandits.
In the midst of this chaos, a girl ran from the tyrant, La'Ara and grew and lived amongst the bandits and married Grehya, a bandit lord and gave birth to a daughter. That woman was then slayed by orcs when searching for food for her daughter. That woman was the sister of King La'Ara, Re'Drina. And as the prophet said, her daughter shall grow and free the people of Timbroch...
The Queen Of Timbroch - Part I
In the eastern land of Verenia was a forest so thick that even the havens could not see beneath the trees. Talking trees and walking trees roamed and filled that forest and in that forest lived a race of creatures that had descended upon the lands ever since the first age. With height twice as tall as an average human and white pale skin. They have two legs and two eyes just as a human being and have two arms and five fingers on each hands. They are a lot like the humans, except they could live more than a thousand and five hundred years. Their pointy ears could catch even the noise of a buzzing bee from a mile away. Their incredible strength made them very capable of moving amongst the trees in a very high speed and their eyesight gives them the ability to see as clear as in the day while at night. They were known to humans as the Dwelvens. As humans, they were civilized and not without order. Not many knew where they came from. Some say they grew off the trees, the god of earth. Some say they came from the seas. But only few of the most wise among the wise knew that they were the descendant of Goirre, the goddess of trees. They have the power to communicate with all the inhabitants of the forest. For many years they had ruled that forest. For the Humans, that forest was named the Thousand Trees. For the Dwelvens, that forest was knowned as Timbria.
Amongst the Dwelvens stands a ruler, the one who beholds order above all, the king. Upon his throne he rules his kingdom, and the kingdom he rules goes by the name of Timbroch. In his kingdom, tall buildings stand underneath the trees and some on the trees. No walls of any kind were built for defense, only the living trees were their only palisade. Druids and Nymphs living in the trees lived side by side with the Dwelvens peacefully. Most of the Dwelvens were hunters and others were farmers. In the center of Timbria lies a giant tree named as Eirit or also knowned as the Tree of Life. With that tree the forest lives. With that tree, the spirit of the forest lives on. Everything was peaceful at Timbria and Timbroch did not have any enemy nor threat but the Orcs from across the seas on the land of Vistar.
Ever since the beginning the Dwelvens and the Orcs had battled each other restlessly. Before Timbroch had conquered all of Timbria, Orcs roamed chaotically through the forest. Trees were chopped down for their personal needs, Druids and Nymphs were brutally slaughtered and butchered savagely, and Dwelvens were slaughtered without a cause. The Dwelvens were suffering tragically. Then a single Dwelven arose amongst the other Dwelvens to lead. Soon, an army was formed and with the help of the Druids and the Nymphs and the living trees, the savages were sent off retreating across the waters to Vistar. But that was not the last of the Orcs...
Amongst the Dwelvens stands a ruler, the one who beholds order above all, the king. Upon his throne he rules his kingdom, and the kingdom he rules goes by the name of Timbroch. In his kingdom, tall buildings stand underneath the trees and some on the trees. No walls of any kind were built for defense, only the living trees were their only palisade. Druids and Nymphs living in the trees lived side by side with the Dwelvens peacefully. Most of the Dwelvens were hunters and others were farmers. In the center of Timbria lies a giant tree named as Eirit or also knowned as the Tree of Life. With that tree the forest lives. With that tree, the spirit of the forest lives on. Everything was peaceful at Timbria and Timbroch did not have any enemy nor threat but the Orcs from across the seas on the land of Vistar.
Ever since the beginning the Dwelvens and the Orcs had battled each other restlessly. Before Timbroch had conquered all of Timbria, Orcs roamed chaotically through the forest. Trees were chopped down for their personal needs, Druids and Nymphs were brutally slaughtered and butchered savagely, and Dwelvens were slaughtered without a cause. The Dwelvens were suffering tragically. Then a single Dwelven arose amongst the other Dwelvens to lead. Soon, an army was formed and with the help of the Druids and the Nymphs and the living trees, the savages were sent off retreating across the waters to Vistar. But that was not the last of the Orcs...
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