The Resolve to Fight

[Number XIV]

It seemed like hours... it couldn't have been more than seconds, but somehow they stretched into oblivion. The red-haired man tried to pull his sword free, but Leon grabbed it by the handle, his hands grasping his killer's, and he squeezed, hard. He heard the man's bones popping, heard him gasp in pain, but neither of them let go. The girl stared at them in horror, her face splattered with Leon's blood.

"How long are you going to sit there, girl?" he asked, and then coughed up a little more blood. A classic line. In the abstract, this situation was incredibly badass, but when you've got a sword actually run through your chest, such things seem a little less important. "Get going! If I die, and it doesn't mean anything, then I'll really be pissed. Go!" He felt the man try to pull away again, so he kicked him in the crotch, hard. The doubled over, gasping and swearing, his hands still tightly in Leon's grasp. The girl was still there, as though paralyzed, trembling in fear. Leon cracked a smile, and then laughed, though bitterly. "So, that's it, then? I'm going to be killed by some skillless idiot, and it will all have been for nothing. Well then, the least I can do... is give you something of a chance." He reached to his back, and unsheathed his sword, tossing it to her. "Don't touch it until I die- otherwise, it might bite," he grinned, his vision fading. Everything was getting so... hot. He'd heard it would get cold, but then he'd never talked to someone who'd actually died, for obvious reasons. He fell, slowly, and closed his eyes. This wasn't how he wanted to go... but hell, not much he could do now, was there....

"Warrant Officer Montague?" asked a voice. Leon jumped, and shook his head.

"Sorry... lost in thought," he mumbled. In memory, quite specifically. He glanced up- it was a Private First Class, regular Army. Leon didn't recognize him. "What do you need, Private?"

"Lietenant Hayes sent me, sir. He said you'd know why he'd called you." The private's face was a touch nervous, as most are around a superior officer, but also a bit impatient. "He wants to see you in his quarters at once."

"You mean his tent?" sighed Leon. "Alright, I'm going. Dismissed, Private. Alex!" he shouted back into his tent. A moment later, the girl poked her head out.

"The lieutenant call us, Leon?" she asked.

"Yeah. I want a good report from you, dammit. Come on, let's go." The girl nodded, stepping out of the tent. The two of them walked slowly through the camp, taking their time. After a few minutes, they arrived, and ducked inside the lieutenant's tent.

"You're late. Then again, you're always late. You're less late than usual. Does that mean you're early?" asked Lieutenant Hayes sarcastically.

"Couldn't say, sir," answered Leon easily.

"Cut the 'sir' bullshit. I like it from most people, but you only use it when you're being an asshole. Sergeant First Class Kisari, your report, please. Is he ready to fight again?"

"Well, sir, his wounds have healed pretty cleanly, but he's still got some muscle stiffness, and it'd be good if he could get a little more rest," began Alex, ignoring the angry look that Leon gave her, "but overall, sir, I'd say that he could fight if you need him. He's not in perfect condition, but who is?"

"Fair enough. I'd like to field you in a small skirmish we're expecting against the Ordian Army tomorrow, any complaints?" asked the lieutenant.

"It's far away, I'm guessing? How far are we going to have to walk?" asked Leon. Both the lieutenant and his partner ignored him.

"No complaints, sir. We're ready to be in it again, willing and able."

Lieutenant Hayes nodded. "There's a transport stopping by here in an hour and a half, and you're going to be on it. You'll be under the command of Colonel Mikhail Rancrest, a whiney little asshole, so I don't mind you giving him the 'sir' routine. He's a prick, but he knows his stuff. Pack up and get ready to move out."

Alex bowed, and Leon gave a half-smile and half-assed salute, then the two stepped out.

[snowdog]

The cold tiled floor of the church was uncomfortable after kneeling upon it for a while, but Kyrr did not stir, too focused in prayer to do something about her aching shins. In all honesty, most of her was uncomfortable, but that was down to those ridiculous - well, in her opinion - uniforms. They were so tight, and restricting, not to mention must have been made out of the thickest, roughest fabric money could buy; Kyrr had often wondered why the Army spent so much money on their uniforms when they were so restrictive in battle. But now was not the time to think about that. There were more pressing matters to attend to.

Finishing the prayer, before rising to her feet, she had a quick look around the church as she turned to leave. Walking up the aisle with a slow, ambling pace, towards the doors, she breathed a sigh; one of apprehension, a sigh of dread. She and the others with her had set up camp upon Elemnia's border with Ord after being called up to battle, so she had spent a short time praying to the Gods that all would be well, and that they would be kept safe. Elm would not betray humans in a manner that would leave them vulnerable, not to mention, subject to suffering, pain, and death. Well, she did not believe that Elm would do such a thing. The others were less religious, but she prayed for them, too.

Emerging into the light, squinting slightly, she covered her pale green eyes as she approached the other soldiers, all stood around in a little group a short distance from the church itself. All packed up, and ready to go, it seemed that they were much more keen than her to reach the battlegrounds. They were not far off - perhaps a few hours' traveling. As she approached, rubbing the back of her neck with stiff fingers, one male soldier broke from the group, handing her a sheathed blade, the scabbard attached to a leather belt. He had a kindly, slightly wrinkled face, with olive skin, and brown hair. Considerably older than the others, he appeared as the father figure of the group.

"There we go, Sergeant Major," he said, handing the blade to Kyrr, "now that you're out of there." Taking a sneaky glimpse over his shoulder, he leaned down to her level, reducing his voice to a whisper. "Some of them are getting cranky. Something about having to wait, or whatever." It was clear from the tone of his voice that he willed her to ignore them. Chances were that they were nervous too, and the wait was increasing the anxiety within the group.

Kyrr ignored her own nerves from this point, a sudden smile appearing upon her face.

"Well," she smiled, "I did take quite some time, huh?" She raised her voice. "I'm sorry about that, I'll try not to take so long with prayer next time. Hopefully Elm will bless our journey and keep us safe."

The others nodded, mumbling, before continuing in the direction of the borders. Kyrr sighed. They didn't seem to be too happy. Who could blame them? Though she knew she acted in the will of the Disciple, she had to admit she was not looking forward to the war. Part of her wondered if she could face the battlefield.

No, she couldn't think about it. Not yet. For now, she would just try to enjoy the short journey. What would be would be, and neither she, or the others, had any right to question the will of the Gods.

<3

[Dark Philosopher]

(( Now then. ))

Valarian rode silently down out of the forest path and onto the church's main road, his cloak billowing slightly as the cool evening wind rustled through the trees. As he approached the building he passed by a line of young looking Elemnians waiting around anxiously, New soldiers... he thought sadly, crossing himself in a silent prayer for their luck in battle. He slowed his horse as he approached the church's door and dismounted, leading the mount over to a water trough and tying the reigns off. He glanced back at the line of soldiers before taking off his hood and mask, and stepping into the church.

Valarian's footsteps echoed of the ancient stone as he walked into the place of worship, his head bowed slightly in respect for Elm, he made his way slowly through the familiar halls and to the altar. The church had not been a planned stop on his way to the battlefield, but he remembered having stopped there in the past, and he wished to let his horse rest for some time before he continued on. The stained glass windows around the altar through streams of molten color onto his cloak as he kneeled to pray.

The words wouldn't come to him... Bothersome thoughts drifted through his heads rather than the words he had said so many times over the past two decades. Valarian disliked excess killing, he could find ways to ignore his own assassinations and underhanded work, but the mindless slaughter of true battlefields. There was a delicate art in killing a person, he believed, and comparatively war was just a crude drawing. Valarian calmed himself long enough to say a quick prayer, May our children on the battlefield find not the suffering that war gives, but see the glory of our swift victory. He prayed for the newly deployed soldiers rather than himself, he never prayed for himself.

What use is there in praying for a lost soul that can find no guide? he had used to say, his hands were already stained dark by his work for the church, he knew that there was no place in paradise for himself. But he did not pity himself, his was a needed sacrifice, for Elm still protected him as he committed his shadowy sins, and he felt confident that he would not suffer when his brothers and sisters move on to paradise. Valarian stood, walking slowly back out of the church, putting his hood and mask back on as he stepped out into the bright sunlight. His horse stood loyaly where he had left her, munching noisly on a patch of tall grass. He removed Ana'Theria from the strap on the side of his saddle and hung the silver bow on his shoulder running across his chest, and mounted up, trotting over to the line of soldiers preparing to depart.

He approached a young looking girl near the back, slipping his dark green mask up over his mouth and nose.
"Excuse me... my child, it appears you are headed off to battle are you not? Where is this force headed?"

[snowdog]

"Excuse me... my child, it appears you are headed off to battle are you not? Where is this force headed?"

Turning at the sound of the voice, Kyrr was met with the wide nostrils of a horse, a pair of black eyes peering back at her. Smiling at the creature, giving it a short, soft pat on the nose, she looked up at the man mounted upon it. There was something numinous about his presence, one Kyrr usually felt upon entering a church, or meeting with a religious elder. His silver-blue eyes looked upon her in a manner she could not quite pinpoint. Not allowing it to distract her from his question, she promptly responded, a light smile upon her fair face.

"Yes, we are," she replied, looking up at him, moving slightly so that she could see him more clearly. "We're heading to the battlegrounds in Ord. I think we're meeting with one of the higher-ups first, but if not, we're going straight to the front line." An awkward look swept over her. "Well, at least that's what I understood. Sorry I'm not much help, sir."

Kyrr wondered why she had called him sir. It had just felt... well, instinctive, she supposed. She simply could not figure out why she felt as though she and the other soldiers should be paying him respect.

"Are you on your way there, too?" she asked him, making conversation. "Or elsewhere?"

<3

[Dark Philosopher]

"Are you on your way there, too? Or elsewhere?" The girl asked.

Valarian thought about his answer, he was drifting after all, waiting for whispers of the Conflict Opposition Force's movements...

"Yes, I will be traveling in the same direction." Valarian answered the maiden softly, "Though I no not for how long." The most likely place for his target to be was close to the front lines, and if he was with a unit of Elemnian soldiers he wouldn't stand out as much as he would on his own. He turned his steed away from the soldiers, this chance might make his job easier, he would ride with the unit until they reached the Ordian border, or word of the Conflict Opposition Force reached his ears. Valarian glanced back to the female soldier, nodding in a small bow, "Thank you for your assistance."

He waited silently next to the soldiers, awaiting the signal to move out, he hadn't meant to cut his conversation with the girl short, Valarian just wasn't one to extend conversations unless asked a question.

[Number XIV]

Leon sighed, leaning back against the canvas covering of the wagon. "Where are we headed, Captain?" he asked the man opposite him. The officer poked his head up, away from the book he had been reading.

"Mograhan. Small village about thirty miles into Ord. Everybody's gonna be there- Ord, Elemnia, even the traitor's army. So the Prince thought it a golden chance to prove our military superiority. Prove that Kaer's strength has not faltered." Unusually talkative for an officer, not that Leon was complaining. Technically, the man outranked him, but being a Ranger gave you a sort of courtesy promotion- not officially, but it changed how you were treated- so they were about on equal terms. This was mostly because Leon was a combat specialist, and that scared the hell out of average grunts. When you joined the Rangers, there was an entrance exam. Assuming you'd already passed basic military examination, this was the only one you had to take. Basically, your magic using partner was placed behind you, and you were attacked by 100 conscripts. If you made it past 50 before they got you (wooden weapons, so it was safe enough), you passed. Also, the number that you defeated was given to you as a pin, worn on your left sleeve. Leon's left sleeve read "100".

It wasn't as hard as it sounded. The conscripts came at you one or two at a time, so it was mostly a test of endurance, assuming you were somewhat competent. But the average Army boy didn't know that. They just knew you were a Centurion, someone who had taken on a hundred men at once, and won. So they gave you a lot of respect. No Army soldier short of a general would demand that a Centurion called them sir. And since the secret was so well kept, the presence of a Centurion scared the hell out of enemies, too.

This Captain wasn't scared of him- just a little wary. That was good- every time he saw an officer look at him like he was this unstoppable monster, he just got a little disgusted with their lack of confidence. "Army and a few Rangers participating... anybody else?" he asked.

"Corsairs might make an appearance," shrugged the officer. "It's not a huge, epic conflict, just that everybody's bringing serious customers to the field. No hordes of cannon fodder. All of these guys are pretty good. Plus, the Navy's sending a few ships up along a nearby river to give us a little artillery support."

"They have cannons or ballista?"

"How should I know? I wouldn't bet on cannons, given how expensive the things are. It'll be another decade before cannons are placed on every ship. They haven't even got the things optimized." It was reasonable enough- cannons were the latest innovation in military weaponry, so it was a bit unreasonable to expect them in an offensive movement. Likely, the only cannons in use would be to defend the homeland. "We should be there in about six hours."

"Wake me up when we're an hour away, then," sighed Leon, leaning back and closing his eyes.

[Shattered Redemption]

"Mograhan.” The town had a name that was extremely cliché, especially considering the area they were in. The small town was a bit of a compact, there were many different people there, but this was not the usual case. You couldn’t dispute the notion that people from all over were there for their own agendas, regardless of what the official reasoning was. Meta frowned as yet another man strutted past him and saw the dull expression on his face. He was used to it by now, most me whom saw him were at once thrown into both a fit of jealously and disgust.

Ramu whom was floating nearby just stared at the man whom was now gaping at Meta, and this gave Meta a twisted idea, he liked to mess with people’s minds at times. I gave something to do in a time of boredom such as this. The fact that Meta was naked made this all the better. Ramu eyed the man who sat down on a bench near Morgrahan’s entrance as if there was something peculiar with the man, or something on his face. It was here that Meta began to toy with the man, slowly, but in a way that would make anybody uncomfortable. “Yeah I see what you mean Ramu. He does look kind of sexy just sitting there huh??” Ramu giggled, and nodded, pointing at the man whom shifted uncomfortably on the bench.

Meta decided to go a bit further with his game. Using just a tad bit of magick that invoked the art of gravitation, the bag of unknown items that Meta had stashed next to him to move upwards, then drop, spilling its contents. “Oh damn, now I have to pick all this stuff up. Geez.” He bent right over. Normally there would be nothing wrong with this at all, but Meta just happened to be green, and naked, so the man got a full view of Meta’s exposed , teal green, muscular ass………

“Oh God.” The man’s eyes went wide, and he couldn’t even turn away as he just stared. Meta put the items back into the back slowly and purposely, making sure that he moved his legs slightly, so that his back side didn’t stay still. After he was finished, he turned back around to see that the man was blushing so badly that he had a hand over half of his face. It was hilarious, and Meta knew that at the same time; completely improper especially with his ranking, but it got him through the day.

[Que Será Será]

Meanwhile, Arcana and some other female private 1st ranked soldiers were in the mess hall at Conflict Opposition Force HQ preparing for a fundraiser. The objective of this fundraiser is to earn enough money to buy new supplies, such as uniforms and wooden rifles, for their platoon. This fundraiser took the form of a classic bake sale with the inclusion of specialty apples. Some of the ladies were setting up tables while others were bringing in the baked goods. Some male soldiers walked over the ladies and asked “Ladies, can we help with anything?” The female soldiers blushed and said “Oh, aren’t you all gentleman. No, We have enough help but thank you for asking.”

The female soldier’s platoon leader Sergeant First Class Creaosa walked on by to see the progress. Creaosa had long brown hair with pink eyes and star shaped earrings. “ Hello ladies, are you almost done setting up? “All the female soldiers stopped with what they were doing and saluted Creaosa. Arcana’s response was looked upon as the leader of the Private 1st class ladies so she answered the question. “MA’AM, PREPARATIONS
ARE COMPLETE, MA’AM!” Creaosa acknowledged Arcana and said “Order arms.
Let’s begin ladies. The soldiers replied “YES MA’AM!"

[snowdog]

"Thank you for your assistance."

The man gave a short bow from atop his steed, before distancing himself from Kyrr, and the other soldiers. She acknowledged his gesture with a similar bow, before rejoining the little huddle of soldiers. Kyrr silently wondered why the man had chosen to stand alone, even after expressing that he would be traveling alongside them for the time being. Shrugging, she supposed he was not a social type - after all, he hadn't appeared rude in his preference - finishing the thought as their group's leader spoke up.

Command Sergeant Major Drasa cleared his throat, the short cough he gave sounding typically low, and growled. He was a fairly tall man, with light eyes, and fairly dark skin. Drasa always looked preened to perfection in his uniform, his hair tamed into a neat style, his face cleanly shaven, his gaze awake and alert. A prim and proper man, he was as much a perfectionist with his work as he was with his looks. As a result, he was known to be quick-tempered, and irritable. He was, however, dependable as a leader in battle.

"We're moving out," he announced, placing his blade at his side. "We stop at the Ordian Borders to meet with other groups, and then we'll find out if we'll be on the front line, or working elsewhere."

"Yes, Command Sergeant."

The group replied in unison, a learned response. With that, they moved behind him, walking at a steady pace. Kyrr followed, fastening her scabbard to a belt about her middle as she went. Hopefully this walk wouldn't take too long.

<3

[Crash!]

Five hundred or so troops were stationed in Mograhan. As they were in many other towns and countries. Among the soldiers in Mograhan was Vera Shop. Leaned against brick wall, Vera 'fulfilled' his duty by patrolling the plaza area. He raised his head and wiped the sleep from his eyes to look at the ever-so-bright sun. But to his dismay, the star was shouted by gloomy clouds, ready to break.

Raising himself form the wall, Vera brushed back the annoyance of his coat constantly grinding along his thigh. He let out a soft sigh and walked toward the nearby tent. Suddenly, Arganax began to shine faintly. The soldier knew that foreshadowed some sort fight, battle, or war. Whatever it was, it had to involve Vera himself. Grabbing the hilt of his monstrous brand, he felt confident that this would be has chance to show off. If it even was worth fighting for.

Continuing his path toward the tent, his smirk dimmed down to a straight face. Walking past several officers, Vera finally made his greetings with the Lieutenant Colonel of the area. He placed his right hand on the desk and pushed the hair from his face.

"Hey, Lt. Gresh, we need to station about four hundred soldiers around the perimeter of the town. And uh, possibly higher ranked officers other than the privates I see running around here."

The Lieutenant shifted in his seat, and gave Vera a stern look, placing his free hand on his bearded chin. Although it seemed as if the officer was an easy goer, he was not a pushover at all. Clearing his throat he spoke softly,

"And what makes you think I'll be taking orders from you, sergeant?"

A confused look came over Vera's face. A look that said 'what the hell?' He took his time answering the next question.

"When have I ever been wrong Gresh? The first time Elm invaded? Didn't I predict when and where they would strike? And who even jumped up five ranks within the third week of their first day? You know who. Hell, give me another two months and I'll be up to your status."

The Lt. broke from his seat and grabbed Vera by his vest. His eyes driving into the soul of the soldier.

"Listen, Shop. You're arrogant attitude will get you sent back down to a private, so watch your tongue. I'll get those officers ready, just in case you're right. If you're wrong Shop, be ready to face the consequences."

"Yeah, right."

And with that Vera left the presence of his superior.

[Dark Philosopher]

Valarian urged his steed into a soft trot, following silently next to the group of soldiers, his gaze steady and almost relaxed, though in reality he was quite alert, he had learned that his position with the church made him a target anywhere.

The wind rustled playfully through the trees as the group moved forward, and the march fell into a steady rhythm as they moved. The tense soldiers relaxing a bit as they finally finished waiting for activity. As they moved away from the church and it's village's clearing and into the surrounding forest, Valarian removed a small book of Elemnian prayers from an inner pocket in his robes and opened it, reading through lines his eyes has crossed thousands of times before. His eyes lifted every now and then, to glance at the line of soldiers next to him, or question a noise off in the trees.

He enjoyed the quiet calmness of the surrounding nature, even if it didn't lower his wariness.

[Number XIV]

The Captain didn't wake him an hour out. In fact, it was Alex that woke him, with the Captain nowhere in sight. "Leon, get up."

Leon blinked. Something was off. The cart- it wasn't moving. "What's going on, Alex?" he said softly.

"We're within eyeshot of the village, but... we should have encountered something by now. A sentry, a patrol... something." The sun was shining brightly, but it hadn't fully risen yet, and much of the land was still cloaked in shadow. A horse neighed nearby, and in the silence, it was as loud as a scream. "They must have pulled back to the village... they're expecting us."

"What, is that it?" scoffed Leon. "Is that what has this whole caravan spooked?"

"Actually, that would probably because they've burned the bridge," growled the Captain as he returned to the cart. "The river's maybe twenty feet deep, so not too bad, but we don't have the equipment to ford her. We're going to have to leave the supplies and some men behind. I blame Elemnia for the bridge, but Ord's our guy for shutting the town down."

"So they both know that we're coming. Brilliant," sighed Leon.

"More likely that Elemnia burned the bridge trying to cut off a potential Ordian retreat. But Ord... yeah, they probably know we're coming," acknowledged the Captain. "Now, are you going to sit here and cry about it, or are you going to stand and fight, soldier?" Leon stood slowly, his hand on his sword. "That's what I thought. Ready to move out?"

Leon nodded. Alex hopped off the cart, and the army began to move toward the river. It took a good half hour for everyone to get across, god knows why, but they were ready. Leon stared at the village, looming large in the distance. "The time for stealth has passed. If they're not completely retarded, they'll know we're here by now. They'll have seen us cross the river. So come with me, stand by my side. We lead the fight. Rangers lead the way!" roared Leon, and the other Rangers answered him with a roar of their own, an unflinching battle cry. Then the Army joined in, and they all charged.

[Number XIV]

In six hours, if no one posts, this is officially dead.