Lochland: Capitol City of Velusia

[Shamus Blackthorne]

Shamus watched the woman ride off suddenly, he hadn't meant her to think he was talking to her. Oh this was just perfect, her horse was fast on top of that. Shamus spurred his trying to match her speed and catch up to her once again. As she disappeared into the woods, Shamus sighed, he could find her true, but she obviously wanted to lose him. Perhaps he'd get a chance to speak with her later and apologize for the misunderstanding. Shamus turned and looked off into the distance, deciding to enjoy a nice long ride. Shamus road off into the direction of the road, finally coming to a stream.

The small brook had a bridge where the road crossed it and continued. It was as good of a place as any to wet one's whistle. Shamus dismounted and walked over to the cool running stream. The snow from the moutain ranges in the distance, melted bringing cold water down to the city. It was refreshingly cool and just what he needed. His horse knelt next to him and drank, looking to Shamus as if to ask permission. Shamus patted the horse along the neck and petted it. " You know if I didn't know better I'd say you thought yourself to be like me, rather then a horse." Looking off into the woods, Shamus spotted with his keen eyesight a large black cave. The caves were a good place to find the nightshade which Shamus and many other spell casters in Lochland used. It was a reagent, a fungus that grew in the dank, dark places of the land.

Shamus began to spur his horse towards the cave thinking he'd pick up a few reagents before heading back to the castle.

[Garic_Goldmantle]

Within a couple of swings the latch was broken, a soldier standing ready at either side pulled the wooden doors open swiftly and before the loomed the darkest, dankest hole any could remember. There was no more time for last words, no more morale boosters or lies to spin, there was nothing left but to take action.

Garic was the first to descend, Percy and a soldier Garic didn't know close behind. Two more, then Gord and his shield man, Jason coming last backing down the stairs to watch for a rear assault. Rows upon rows of wooden win racks filled the cramped basement, barely wide enough for a man to fit his shoulders let alone wage a battle. Garic's heavy shoes thud against the concrete with every calculated step, eyes darting from shadow to shadow.

Garic's hand raised for a halt as he put the first foot on the stairs leading up, and then the next. Footsteps echoed over head, moveing hastily and with reason. They were preparing something, possibly for an assault on the front door. Could they have discovered the hatch behind the bar? Could they even now be setting a trap, expecting such a quick assault?

"Gord, sheildman." Two words, one order.

Gord shuffles past his allies to stand a step below Garic, the door opened facing the left common room, if there was an assault it would be ready from that side. Garic puts a hand against the wood as Gord readies his buckler. Garic pushes.

He pushes again, just a little harder.

"Shit." He whispers.

"What is it?" Percy asks.

"They've blocked it." Garic replies.

An image, chain of events, passes through the captain's brain in the split instant it takes for him to try to hatch a third time. It was definetly ladden, he couldn't open it fast enough to give Gord a fighting chance. He and his entire entourage stuck in the basement while the Darkthornes take a desperate flee into the woods, Percy was right, this is folly.

"Get out." Garic starts descending the wooden stairs. "Get out, now."

"Sir?" Jason looks over his shoulder questioningly, but there was no more time for questions as those behind the young man started pushing him towards the exit.

Jason took to his own and climbed the stairs quickly, his shoulders came above ground as fast as they'd gone under.

TWANG

Jason stops.

"No!" Garic's voice raises as he tries to drag himself past those between him and Jason. The young soldier turns to look back, the bolt protruding from his heart, shock on his face. Shock and dissapointment.

Percy dragged him back into the cellar but it was too late. Three men took to top of the entrance, the cracking blows of their crossbolts was a hammer into Garic's pride. Percy cries out in agony, his fellow not even able to do that as he grips the quarrel in his throat. Gord pulls the mortally wounded man out of range as Percy stumbles past Garic. Sheild raised the Captain charges the stairs, a bolt hits his sheild and goes wide. He was charging blindly, something heavy, like a hammer or a discarded lumberjack's axe strikes his guard and Garic is forced to a knee.

The doors close loudly.

"Dammit!" Garic throws his buckler against the wood and lifts with everything he can muster, bring it death or freedom, but to no avail. He could hear them already loading the door with rocks.

"Go scout around the front, I doubt this is it."

"I think Memnoch is inside."

"Let's move then, those Blackthornes weren't far behind."

"What are we gonna do? By the Gods what are we gonna do?"

A soldier was asking Garic as he tried to listen for more. Memnoch. These weren't with the party Garic had trailed, they'd been caught from behind. The revelation did little to relieve the sting of failure.

Percy let's out a strangled yelp pulling Garic away from the blocked door, he hits the floor and drops his armaments.

"Status." He croaks through a tightening throat.

"Two down and Percival's hurt bad."

"What can you do for him Gord?"

Gord had already stripped Percy's shoulder guard and was examining the best way of removing his breastplate. Garic approaches and holds his hand out, Percy clasps it roughly and Garic puts his other hand over that.

"Reinforcements will come..." Percy winces. "We just have to hold out, right?"

Of course not, there was little chance of reinforcements coming let alone finding them down here. But he'd learned from experience that soldiers fought harder when they thought they had help coming, that they just had to fight a little bit harder, a little bit longer.

"That's right." He nods and looks to the other two soldiers as they dragged the corpses of those fallen into a darker corner of the basement. When one returns he holds his hand out to Garic with an accusing expression.

Garic takes the insignia's stoicly.

Movements erupts from within the tavern upstairs and Garic's heart begins to sink, slowely he lowers and grabs his sword, lifting it from the ground he signs for quiet. Sneaking halfway up the wooden stairs he listenes at the hatch, perhaps he'd get a spoiler as to the fate this Memnoch was about to visit upon them.

[Adrian]

He heard the words as the rolled of the lips of Reese' mouth, about his limited time of one to two days left, and to Adrian it left a heartache to know that there time together would be so limited. Adrian had to thinkt hat this was just another cruel twist of fate upon him, to have his brother come back for so short only to leave again. Why did it have to be this way? Wasn't there something Adrian could do? Perhaps call out to Chrono and beg for his brothers life in exchange for something? Mayhaps a Darkthornes head would do the trick..

But Adrian had to all but push these thoughts out of his head, for they weren't those that he would usually inquire about. It wasnt in his nature to kill for the sake of killing.. But if it was to kill for the sake of saving his brother? Yes.. He would do that... Adrian sat in the chair for a moment, contemplating over the words that came from Reese' mouth... A fusion... Such a thing was rarely attempted among any society, whether it be Blackthornes, Darkthornes or what have you.. So many risks involved in such a thing, but at what cost was it really? If the parties survived, true they would be immensely more powerful. But their personalities? Would they conflict against one another as moral judgements came into the mingled mind of one such being? Would one beg a pardon on the soul, while another would want to claim it as their own... Maybe...

But why question his brother? Why question about fusing with him? Their knowledge would be shared, their thoughts and feelings would become one, and where ones heart and will to survive might give up, anothers will hold them steadfast and strong. Would he have to question his brothers heart against Adrians own? Never... Their blood above all others was thicker in the heart than any others. No, they werent Shamus and Reinne, twins who would share their thoughts and express only minor emotions... They were closer then that. Adrian would sacrifice everything he knows for the sake of his brother.

Glancing up slowly, Adrian monitored his brother for a moment before standing slowly from the chair... "If it will spare your life brother and will help us stop Vinc..." He stopped himself from saying Vincent in midsentence, figuring that perhaps saying directly that it was Vincent was a bit wrong and too presumptios. He quickley recovered from his sentence and started again, "I mean the Nightmare Lord.. Then I will help you brother. But before we can take care of the Nightmare Lord brother... I have seen many a disturbing thing in my dreams since I was freed from those damndable chambers.."

He turned his back slightly, looking at one of the books on the shelves of the Library... It was a book upon war, something Adrian hadn't participated in at all against the Darkthornes, as he thought it was useless bloodletting. But after those dreams, he thought that it was something that was a neccessity to do against them for the sake of survival of not just the Blackthornes, but against all. He continued, "Brother, while I was asleep I saw your Nightmare Lord... Gravestones littered the area, of all Blackthorne names, including your own. It seamed in that land the name was more of a curse than a blessing... And before that, there was an attack on one of the estates, blood roaring over the land, where neither man nor woman nor child was left to survive." He paused for a second, letting Reese perhaps think on this moment a bit before continuing. "The Demise Estates brothers.. They were under attack in my dream and I dont have a feeling that this was just a sheer coincidense. I feel before we can fuse, that I must face an evil not unlike your own, just so I can fully understand what this will mean not just for you, but for myself and all of Velusia."

Adrian turned back, looking towards his brother, a rather stern look in his eyes since the first time he awakened from his slumber. He was serious now, something that was often rare these days for the bumbling fool who laughed at his own misfortunes. "I dont want you to fight in the battle brother, but rather meditate to conserve your strength for the fusion.. I will go fight the Darkthornes alone... I think it might be fun..." No, he didn't want Reese to fight, no, he didn't care that the odds might be stacked against him, but to him, somewhere deep within his blood he did find that a challenge, and he loved a good challenge. Crazy for wanting to challenge an army? Yes... Insane for wanting to do it alone? Even more so... But willing to here another other word from his brother on the subject? Never...

There was perhaps only one other man who was stupid enough to challenge an army alone and that person Adrian had only come across once in his lifetime. The man was Cebreese, a fiend of Malmora whom had helped conceal Adrian away... What was it about Cebreese that he found so familiar aspects as himself and at the same time so different... Turning his back to his brother, he started to walk towards the door of the library, opening the door before stopping, looking over his shoulder just once more to look at Reese.. "I've got some preparing to do brother... Meditate and wait... For I am hoping a certain somebody will be there..." He was hoping many things would be there... Darkthornes... Cebreese... He would take them all, for his strength was growing bit by bit now and he would make his presence known to them all in the battle over Demise...

[/size]

[Honor Demise]

" Perhaps you are right. These days have been trying beyond anything I have endured before. I simply do not wish for my people to see a weakness in their queen or king. Eyes always look to us for strength. However, the need to protect your lands and in turn help to protect ours is great indeed. The sooner we leave, the faster I can return."

?As you wish,? she murmured with a look of approval, turned on her heel and moved back to the landing in where Vahn and Honor had first appeared and offered black silken blindfold to the younger queen. ?Do not open your eyes as we travel through the mirror realm. For the uninitiated the view can be most traumatic.?

The mirror seemed to protest their intrusion, groaning and creaking. The popping and scorning noises did not stop until they were well into the in-between. Cold air grew bone-chilling like Father Winter raking his cold aged  fingers across their heated bodies, a sicken snap of meat being torn echoed as if they were traveling through a cavern of slick, cold flesh. With a gentle tug, Honor assisted Reinne out the mirror into warm room, a buzz with people talking all at once.

((Continued in Demise))

[Reese Blackthorne]

Reese smiled Adrian was still the same after all, " you think that your just going to run off and play the lone hero. It's not about us anymore brother it's about the kingdom as a whole. If they depend on us to save them everytime they encounter a problem they will be weak. If Demise is truly under attack as you say, then you had better lead reinforcements to Demise rather then venture there alone. We have to lead by example, running off into battle alone only makes fools. Not everyone can hold their own in battle, they will need reinforcements and since we are the only ones here. You said so yourself, you don't want me going into battle, therefore it falls to you, you have to lead the men to Demise." Reese didn't like it any better, he wished Adrian would stay in Lochland, but he knew that Adrian wanted to go fight. He wanted to remember what it was like to feel the rush of battle.

Reese didn't blame him, but Velusia didn't need lone heroes right now, it needed leaders. People who would lead Velusia into defending itself properly, that is what it needed. They'd already been down the road of protecting Velusia, it only weakened the people for they called on the heroes to save them everytime trouble came knocking. It had taken so much work in developing strong people within the kingdom that to step back now, now when war was coming. It would only leave a long list of dead heroes, and dead heroes could only serve in memory and honor. Reese would let Adrian go, but he sent a mental message to one of the generals to get reinforcements to Demise. Reese knew Demise was in a place which presented the best point of entry into Velusia, but the Darkthornes were shifty devils.

They wouldn't just attack one door, but every door possible in hopes of gaining entrance. And once they were in, they would flood over the land like vermin. Reese had wanted to stay out of the war between Velusia and Belgada, there were other things which were more important then just this war. The balance of the lands was at stake, the lives of many were in danger rather then just a few. " I know you can handle yourself Adrian, all I'm saying is the people need to be led. They need role models to guide them into becoming stronger not fools who lead them to their deaths. Be careful, the Darkthornes have their ways to weaken their enemies. While your gone I'll devise a plan to deal with our other enemy. In the meantime, you should get some gear before heading off to Demise."

Reese turned and walked off into the shadows disappearing, he emerged from the shadows atop the castle over looking the lands of Velusia. A cold chill washed over him, his heart was heavy and his mind was a jumble of thoughts.

[Memnoch Arcgrave]

Memnoch knew now the game was up, it was now or never. " Light the fuse, let us make a break for freedom." Memnoch jumped upon his horse as the doorway was cleared, the hostage with the powder keg was tied nicely to a chair. Memnoch snatched up one lass, a barmaid, she couldn't be no younger then twenty. He held a blade to her throat, " you give me any trouble and I'll carve you another smile you hear be wench!?" The young girl nodded in understanding as Memnoch's horse kicked open the door.

The rest of his men began throwing out the lit bottles of alcohal, shattering glass and flames burst within the bushes. His men began to climb onto their horses as well. " Grab some of the hostages, we'll use them as shields" Memnoch didn't care for the lives of anyone in that tavern, not even his own men really. He was more worried about getting out himself, they just provided him with a better chance of escape.

If he had to, he had a vial of Darkthorne blood, he'd been one of the few given an option of becoming one of the Darkthornes. He could always use the blood to keep himself alive, but to do that might bring more attention. He knew the Blackthornes would be able to take out a newly changed Darkthorne easy. He wasn't ready to die like that, he'd choose his death, but if he could, he'd let others die for him. " Go men, ride! ride!" he ordered them to ride out before him. If there were any other guards outside they'd waist their ammunition on his men, it'd give him time to get out while the getting was good. He threw his torch against the wall of liquors, smashing a bottle in the process, let the rest of the hostages burn alive.

After all his men had rode out, he followed his eyes darting form side to side for any possible threats.

[Garic_Goldmantle]

"What was that?" One of the soldiers asks.

"Garic?" Percy almost wails.

"Garic, what was that?" Gord presses.

"They're leaving..." He waits as the oppressive darkness moves in all around, carrying something with it. Something malign and uncaring, screams started sounding, glass breaking. The darkness carried with it the promise of death.

"By the gods..." Gord has ceased working on Percy, and Percy had ceased moaning, all eyes looked to the ceiling as bits of dust littered down upon them.

"No..."

"What?" A soldier is quick to ask.

Garic throws his shoulder into the hatch, and again.

"Give me a hand!" He bellows suddenly, a soldier is quick to ascened, his fellow at his back.

"Oh Gaia, they're burning us alive!"

"What?!" Gord suddenly stands and pulls a soldier out of his way.

Garic pushes with all his might but it's not until Gord's thick hands find purchase that they manage to lift the hatch a bit. Immedietly wisps of smoke start clawing at their lungs. The heat was intense, reminding Garic of a smithies forge. Bad place to get caught, in the middle of a smithies forge.

"Help us!" He cries through the crackle of tinder. "Get this hatch open!" His voice carries over the din of chaos.

They double their efforts and the door raises a bit more, a pair of hands appear, the load is lessened and an instant later Garic is crawling from the basement. The barkeep, a healthily overweight man, has already turned away from the hatch he helped open and stumbles towards the door. Garic's eyes scan the room, burning and straining against the great billows of smoke that sprung from the wood all around.

He coughs.

The people were alive, for as long at that lasted, Memnoch had not killed them. The barkeep dissappears through the portal and escapes, leaving women and children screaming and huddled against the far wall. A peice of lumber falls so close Garic feels the flames licking his face.

"Garic!" Gord calls and the Captain immedietly turns to pull Percy from the basement.

"Get everybody out of here!" He orders.

Garic moves for the door, almost leaving Percy behind in his haste, he might still catch a sign of where they went, he could still track them down. He bursts through the door and cringes, the bushes on all sides had been set ablaze. People pushed out of the tavern with wails of dismay. The road headed back in the castles direction was completely cut off, but the road south...

"This way, bring everybody this way! There's a fort a few miles south you can refuge, but be careful there may yet be Darkthornes watching the road."

"Where are you going?"

"I can't let them get away."

"Garic!"

The Captain turns to watch one of the two soldiers fight through the fiery tavern portal before it collapses.

"Shit." He mutters holding an arm over his face. "Get back!" He pulls the man away. "Get back!" He has to repeat, "We don't have time, these woods are burning down around us!" He turns and shoves the man towards the retreat. The soldier seems defiant until Gord steps up to his Captain.

"Go and take anybody who will follow back to the castle."

"Aye Captain." He salutes and turns to run.

"C'mon we have to go!" Garic pulls Percy's arm over his shoulder.

As they broke away from the quickly spreading inferno they could already here the sounds of steel on steel. Reinforcements had come after all. Percy pulls his arm away and stumbles off the road, Garic holds his hand up and lowers it parallel with the ground. Garic leads Gord off the road at a low jog, their left shoulders lowered and their sword arms held back. Gord, still holding his buckler breaks to the right as the sounds of a skirmish get closer. Garic cuts left, creeping as fast as he can towards the back of an archer, his heart pounding he quickens as the man draws back.

Steel meets leather and flesh with a wet smack and Garic grabs the man's shoulder before he can turn around and brings his blade down on the other, and again as he falls to the ground. Well trained instinct keeps his eyes darting through the trees at the flashes of black and silver.

A whistle draws his eyes to the left as his knees bend. The whiz of an arrow scurrying by. The archer falls to a sword blow, Gord hacks again before breaking right, Garic leaps forward into a three foot drop and they converge. Several of the better trained warhorses milled about the combat, Garic ducks beneath one and Gord cuts between two. The pair converge on the melee with no battle cry and no prayers for glory.

Garic hits a black clad soldier from behind and watches the Soldier he had saved take a bolt to the shoulder before falling to a hand axe. Garic steps over, his sword up and crossed to catch that same hand axe, he twists and pulls the axe wide as his left hammers into helmet. Turning the blade under he uses both hands to pull his blade back up in an underhand chop that catches the Darkthorne under the arm. Garic drags the blade over his shoulder as he turns completely around, the screaming bastard slides off as Garic steps forward and cleaves into another enemies neck.

Gord shouts and raises his sword, several silver clad Blackthornes join in. Garic catches his meaning, "Gather the horses!" He bellows. "We give pursuite!" There was no time to celebrate the ambush of an enemy caught on foot. His heart raced, feuled by the adrenaline that hadn't the time to seep from his system.

"Who is the ranking officer?" Garic catches a soldier as he's handed reins to a horse.

"You are, Captain."

"How many are we?"

The man looks around.

"Fourteen? I'll do a count, we also saw some taking off on horses."

Garic vaults into the saddle. "Good work soldier." He checks his right for Gord.

"Percy's headed back for the castle." He rumbles.

Garic nods silently.

"Let's give em hell."

Gord salutes in response and cracks the reins of his horse, they kick haunches and the mounts break for the road.

[Memnoch Arcgrave]

Memnoch and his men had come across some other stragglers. They were engaged with some Blackthornes, one of the Darkthornes called out, " aid us brothers!" Memnoch looked to his men who wanted to join in. " Leave them, they'll slow our persuers" Memnoch and his men rode off. His men didn't like the fact he left some of their commrades to die. Memnoch didn't care though, they'd made their break, getting far enough ahead to take a breath, he cut the throat of the barmaid he had with him. Tossing her twitching body to the ground, he looked to one of the other captives. He was just about Memnoch's size, his clothes would fit fine. " Give me the hostage.." he said to his man, after a quick exchange of clothes, he mounted his horse with the hostage.

Just in case they couldn't out run these bastards, he'd find a new way to escape, even if he had to play the part of a simple farmer to do so. The hostage road in behind Memnoch as all the men road behind their hostages. Memnoch would not be caught so easily, he had a brother to meet up with in Calsidor. " Come we'll take off the road, go into the woodlands towards the Urlis river, only thing we'll have to worry about there is staying away from the jungles of the far east." It was dangerous to venture in those lands, but they could cut across the river and enter Belgada easily.

" This Garic isn't half that bad, it's a pity I won't be able to claim his head, let's keep moving before he claims our's." Memnoch and his men road off towards the woods, it'd be easier to set up a trap there and it was natural cover.

[Garic_Goldmantle]

"It's a good thing you found us back there, Captain." The voice floats to Garic's ear, prompting him to regard the speaker with a nod.

The older looking soldier kicks his mount up to Garic's left, Gord on his right. Their forward pace had slown some since they first set off, relying now on trackers and scouts to keep the trail.

"It's a good thing you found us I'd say."

"These Darkthornes we're chasing, how important could they be?"

Garic's expression takes a sour turn as he glances to the man.

"They are enemies of our people, they desire nothing more than to see us in ruin, to stand over our fallen. Besides..." Garic glances around to see that only the two of them and Gord were in listening distance. "I have my orders."

"I see." The aged soldier remarks. "And tell me, do those order entail burning a tavern and half the forest to the ground? Costing our kindgom money and innocent lives?"

"Lets get one thing straight, it wasn't us to burn that tavern down." Gord interjects. "And if you hadn't taken your sweet time reinforcing we may not have lost three lives."

"So there were soldiers lost in this endeavour aswell?"

"Present your name and rank soldier." Garic holds a hand up to Gord.

"Major Foranthig at your service Captain. And upon our return to the castle I will need a detailed report from both of you, I assure you that our Queen does not look kindly on marauders within her forces."

"You old fool!" Gord roars.

"Gord!" Garic cuts him off. "Go pull the rear scouts ahead."

Gord frowns for a long moment but nods and salutes before leading his horse around.

"I'm sorry Major." Garic replies, quickening his pace and the Major follows. "My sergeant is a bit over protective, we've been together for many years now."

"Loyalty is a trait I am familiar with and admire, Captain, fear not his determination but his insubordination."

"Do you intend to take control of this party, Major?"

Foranthig's beefy hand waves the Captain off.

"I'm a political bastard, Garic, and I know my bounds. By our code I am required to hold rank, but I do not lead battles. I know and respect my weaknesses."

Garic nods slowly.

"Captain!" A scout comes galloping towards them. "Trackers have found hoof prints leading off the road and into the forest, still fresh, but we also found this." He waves them to follow.

A moment later the two officers are dismounted and looking into the ditch at the lifeless woman's body.

Garic heaves a sigh.

"Do you see Major?"

"Do I see what?" He snaps, suddenly irritable.

"The brutality of our enemy."

"Casualties are a part of war." The Major sounded less than convincing.

"This is not war yet. This is murder."

Foranthig doesn't respond.

"The kill is recent, very recent. Our enemy had lost their lead." Gord reports.

"Take your time, double the scouts and move into the forest on their trail. Be! Careful!" He emphasizes.

Turning to the Major Garic squares his shoulders and sighs heavily.

"Take two of my men as escorts and return to the Castle, Major."

"Excuse me?!" Foranthig bursts.

"You don't know what it's like fighting in a heavily wooded area, it would be far to chaotic for me to be worried about your life."

"I will go with you, Captain, and I will keep myself alive." Forathig's hand finds the jeweled pommel of his rapier. A fancy yet impractical weapon.

"You are no soldier, Major, so to me you are a liability."

"I will go with you, Captain." Foranthig growls.

Garic's lip curls in distaste and frustration.

"Stay in the back." He vaults into the saddle. "In there you are a soldier like any other, if you do not follow my orders you will die. Do you understand?"

"Of course." Foranthig gets help into the saddle. "Now should we go before the trail gets cold?"

Garic nods but can't help but notice the sidelong glance Foranthig gives to the dead body.

"Yah!" He spins his mount around and breaks into the bushes.

[Memnoch Arcgrave]

Memnoch and his men went deeper into the forest, as they did, Memnoch noticed a bloody hand print on a tree. He knew what it meant, a smile crossed his face. " Follow these handprints, they'll lead us to some allies.." his men looked to him and did as asked. A pole jutted out from the ground with a skull atop it, a bloody hand print upon the skull. Memnoch looked past the skull towards a ruined temple.

The brotherhood of the bloody hand, a secret and evil cult in Velusia, which it's government had been trying to flush out now for years. It's members offered sacrifices, female sacrifices to their god of death and destruction. It was a blessing to find this cult in the woods, they'd obviously hidden their temple well. " Go set some traps, give me that female hostage, I'm going to barter us an alliance..." he and his men dismounted and the female hostage was turned over to Memnoch.

Memnoch walked up to the temple, he walked in, spotting about fifteen red robbed, bald men, each had a bloody hand print upon their head. They turned and stood, gripping their skull topped staves, they began to move towards him.

Memnoch tossed the female before him and knelt down, " I come to offer your god sacrifice, as a loyal servant I am brother Memnoch.." he opened his shirt revealing a red hand tattoo over his heart. It was a mark of one who served the brotherhood, in his younger days he had served them. He'd never gained any high ranking in the brotherhood, he had been nothing more then an assassin. The men stopped, two of the men came and grabbed the girl walking of with her. The head of this order came up to Memnoch, the head wore a skull helmet, marked with the red hand.

" You are an assassin of our order, we welcome you brother.."

" Your enemies come near brother, they hunt me down for serving the Darkthornes as well."

" Ahh the Darkthornes true followers of death and destruction in any right. You seem to have down well brother, this enemies you speak of, do they serve the crowns?"

" Aye, yes they do, one of them is the Captain of the castle guards, Garic Goldmantle.."

The head monk laughed, " This Garic has been a thorn in our side for far too long. We have become strong in the shadows, he shall make a worthy skull for the altar. You have done well in leading him here, for it gives us a chance to rid ourselves of a enemy that has aided in thwarting the truths of our brotherhood. Arise Memnoch of the Blood Hand and accept your brother's hand."

The head monk extended his hand to Memnoch, he reached out and grasped the hand and smiled. It had worked perfectly, he knew that brotherhood would not pass up a chance to kill one of their enemies.

Existing the temple he turned to his men and said, " all is done, they shall help us finish off our foes here. Prepare yourselves, we're going confront Garic and his men. This ends here and now, we'll earn glory by taking out this Garic here and now for the Darkthorne cause." His men all smiled and began to get their gear ready, he knew they wanted to fight back. However if things took a turn for the worst, Memnoch could still flee into the woods while they fought Garic. Having a large distraction as this would give him time to get away.

[Garic_Goldmantle]

Garic pulls his mount sharply and swivels about in his saddle, whistling sharply he swings his foot over and dismounts smoothly.  Moments later he's approached by Gord, Foranthig, and several other soldiers.

Garic points to a tree.

"Our enemies are gathering."

"By the Gods this day gets worse and worse." Gord rumbles.

"Bring in the scouts." Garic orders a soldier.  "We go ahead on foot, two shoulders apart spread the line thin. Keep your head low and watch your step."

"Aye Captain." There's a chorus of agreement followed by salutes.

"We're no longer tracking desperate fugitives, our enemy has no doubt received reinforcements  and are most likely settling in for a fight. It's a fight I intend to give them." He looks around quickly. "But we'll not do it on their terms."

There's a sparkle in the Captains grin as he prepares to outline his battle plan.

A short hour later he was almost doubled over and creeping along the forests floor, to his left, right, and rear was a similar image, soldiers as silent as their bulky armaments afforded. Their silver plates covered almost completely in a mix of mud and moss, their faces even held a layer of the grim. Swords remained sheathed and carried low, bucklers covered by dark cloaks, shirts, or anything at all to hide the shine.

Garic holds up a hand. In both directions a similar signal is given and with no more sound than a breath the entire battle party comes to a stop. Dirty fingers part a bush. Garic holds up two fingers for an extended moment, a fist, and then two fingers again, a fist, and then three fingers.

Two archers and two spearmen.

Garic looks around a bit longer, a skull planted on a pole in the distance. Garic draws back and holds up three fingers.

Crossbows part bushes.

"Did you hear something?"

"Hear what?"

TWANG

Two of the four fall immedietly, screaming and clutching several wounds. Garic is revealed an instant before seven more soldiers, all moving forward in crouched stances as the two sheild bearing spearmen protect themselves from the second round of bolts. As the projectiles pass overhead the infantry stand to their height and charge without battle cry. Weaving between trunks, bushes, and branches the two defenders were brought down quickly by the well organized forces.

Their was a crash a scream, Garic winces and moves towards the disturbance and then stops dead, looking to his feet he sees the thin rope stretching off into foliage. Spotting Gord he taps his eyes and then points to the rope. They still couldn't see the temple or any concentration of troops, several of the Red Hand scouts were taken down, but not nearly quiet enough to keep their advance a secret. The presence of traps ment they had settled in longer than Garic would have liked.

Stepping over the rope he motions men past it carefully, using the well coordinated hand signals he hoped that while their advance was no secret, their location would be. Garic leads his men to the left of the skull planted on a pole, determined to circle to the side and catch a flank.

[Lynfaer]

With a gentle tug of the reins she slowed her steed to a slow walk those amber globes peering at the trees as she searched for the rare fungus that only grew upon their bark. Soon enough, she found some. Smiling she leaned forward and patted his neck before sliding off his back and gathering her tools of trade. Carefully she handled the small dagger in her hand reaching up to meticulously pry the fungus off without causing it to crumble. This particular fungus took many years to mature and, as thus, became fragile. Having successfully gather the large sample she opened her basket and laid it within. Looking back up at the tree she frowned catching sight of something she had not seen before.

A bloody handprint.

Frowning she examined the marking closer, carefully sniffing for signs of poison before reaching up and scraping a bit of the mark off for closer examination. Another sniff and she nearly dropped her dagger. The hand print was indeed blood, but how old was it? Was someone injured? There was only one way to find out. The mark led north by northwest. Climbing back onto her horse she urged him forward, navigating the beast between the thick trees as she kept an eye out for more handprints.

Finally the trail led her to an opening in the great forest. Amber pools widened at the sight of an ancient temple looming before her. All around there were skulls jammed on top of poles, each of them bearing the same blooded mark. Fear lanced her heart as she hesitated before turning her horse around only to have her scream cut off by a sudden jolt to the side of her head. A whimpered whisper escaped her lips as she sagged in her saddle sliding off her horse and into the arms of someone she had only a flash of a second to see.

Lynfaer had just fallen victim to the Bloody hand.

[Memnoch Arcgrave]

Atius of the blood hand had captured someone, when this person was brought in and laid out before the blood hand and the mercenaries, they spoke.

Memnoch:" She doesn't look like a soldier..." he inspected her belongings, " she's some sort of herb gather, she might know magic, so bind her hands and mouth. She's from Lochland no doubt, hmm..."

Sensuch: " The blood hand's temple is now in danger of being exposed, too many people have found it in one day. This is a sign from the dark lord, he is saying he wants us to be found..."

Memnoch didn't care to listen to the monks ramble on about their god. Their god had tried  to destroy Velusia in the old days, when it was called by another name. Their god had been defeated by the Thornes at a cost, they were cursed, their family would forever be split apart. It was legend and myth, nothing he believed in, the Blood Hand always spoke of their god awakening one day to bring his vengance back to the Thorne family, blah blah blah, rubbish.

Head Monk: " Place her on the altar, we'll offer her to Ragnos as well, but first we must deal with our enemies."

Memnoch turned to his men, " I want you to position yourselves...what was that?..."

Head Monk: " Get the berserker, the enemy is near!" three of the monks ran off into the depths of the temple. Memnoch turned at the mentioning of the berserker. He'd heard of them, prisoners captured by the blood hand and through secret rights driven into a mad rage. Their faces bound in iron mask and their bodies painted red. They were not easy to control, their hands were bound to double bladed axes, the berserkers used the axes like extensions of their arms. They were like beast, no thought or reason in them anymore.

A loud roar rose up from the depths of the temple, and the monks came back leading the huge muscled berserker by chains. He thrashed about trying to kill the monks all the while screaming and roaring. His eyes moved about wildly and in them was madness and rage. Memnoch's skin grew cold at the thought of who this person might have been before the monks performed their secret rights on him.

They took the berserker outside and let him lose, his body was covered in bits and pieces of scale armor. He took off into the woods like an animal set free, the monks came running back to the temple. Memnoch turned back to his men, " I want you to post positions, keep a watch for them, we need to make sure where they are..." The monks began to prepare themselves as well, their weapons were strange to Memnoch. Blow guns, whips, staves, and circular blades that resembled the sun. They were more bodies however, more fighters, he couldn't argue that.

Memnoch took out his bow and walked over to the window of the temple, he looked out into the woods " come on Garic, come meet your doom."

Memnoch heard one of the monks say something about the "red dust", he turned and asked what it was. The head monk seemed happy to explain..

Head Monk: " According to this book.." he held up a book that said," The journal of Rasha Blackthorne", " if you plant a seed and poor the blood of a thorne upon it, it will grow a thorne's bane. A very rare plant that when ground up and mixed with the blood of a normal mortal human, can produce what is called " The Red Dust" it takes away their blood born abilities for about two hours, making them completely mortal in simple terms. We sold a large amount of this to the Darkthornes about four months ago, we've been using the money to fund our assassination attempt against the king and queen of Velusia. We have a teleportation portal in Velusia, at the " Red Rum Inn" where our brothers disguise themselves as simple tavern owners. We keep records of all the people we deal with in our log books.."

Memnoch almost laughed, they should burn the log books to cover any evidence, but he didn't care. They had everything written down in their little books, how ridiculous. Though now it made sense, on why Prasutagus had said he would be the one to triumph where all others had failed. He was going to use the Blackthorne's weakness against them, to turn the tide of battle. He'd heard of other cults that hated the thornes having such things, but he'd thought them all mere rumors. He reached out and grabbed the journal away from the monk, the monk protested, but Memnoch pulled out his dagger. The monk backed away, " we already know how to make it anyway...keep the book."

Memnoch smiled he would keep it and take it back to Belgada with him.

[Shamus Blackthorne]

Shamus returned from his herb gathering having found an interesting thing while doing so. The skeletal remains of a man whom was carring alot of treasure, one item in paticular had caught Shamus's eye. A silver brooch with a black gem, on the gem was carved a two-headed dragon. Shamus had collected the things and buried the remains, not sure whom they belonged to.  Upon arriving back, he had the herbs sent to Lynfaer's shop, with a note detailing why he'd said what he had, and a formal apology. He was told by one of his councilors that a town meeting had been announced and that the king and queen's presence was requested to shed some light on last night's attack. Shamus sighed, he knew he had to do something however, Reinne had gone to Demise, Einar and the others off to Belgada, and it seemed everyone else was gone as well.

Shamus almost felt left out, however he felt it his duty to stay and keep up the fort while the others were away. Shamus mounted his horse and headed to the town square, where the meeting hall was located. A good many people had arrived and they seemed to be argueing other something when Shamus entered. The speaker announced king Shamus and vacated as quickly as possible. Shamus stepped up and asked everyone to settle down, " Last night we were all roused from what we were doing, be it sleeping or buisness. As everyone knows our enemies the Darkthornes never sleep, and these vile creatures decided that they would disturb our slumbers as well. I know many things have been said about what happened last night. Let me shed a little light, the Darkthornes failed in an attempt to attack us head on. The explosion was merely a means to distract the town while they attacked the castle."

" We were able to defeat them and as you all know, everyone harmed in last night's attack has been healed." He didn't mention some of the guards that died in the attack, only a few had been killed, two or three. Shamus felt a disturbance behind the town hall doors. Something malicious was coming, he quickly began a spell, as he did the doors bust open. Two Darkthorne mercenaries disguised as town guards came in pushing a large black object. Shamus could see the object was massively enchanted, he heard the yell, " Death to Velusia!!" and thing the room came alive with a flash. The town was rocked by another explosion, the town hall was obliterated. What was left, was nothing more then a smoking pile of ruins a few townspeople were minorly injured by debri thrown from the blast.

One of the townspeople near the hall began to run through the streets shouting, " The Darkthornes are attacking, The Darkthornes are attacking, they've killed King Shamus!!" The town guards that did remain came running to the site. They began to dig through the rubble, the first thing they found was the mangled remains of a body. The street began to become crowded, everyone feared the worst, no one saw King Shamus or anyone except the speark leave. " He's dead...he's dead.." one of the guards said quietly as he dug through more debri.

[Garic_Goldmantle]

There was a howl so full of mad pain that it brought Garic's hand up immedietly, halting the advance as he looked about. The sound seemed to bounce of the forest and come from every direction at once. A form crept up next to the Captain and fell back against a tree breathlessly.

Major Foranthig dotted at his head with a napkin before removing the stopper from his wine skin. "What do you figure that was?"

Garic shoots him a look and puts a finger to his lips. Foranthig waves it off. "There's nobody close enough to hear."

Daggers shoot from the Captain's eyes as he raises a hand and motions for the advance to continue, in unison the battle party starts moving ahead. They'd spotted the temple some time back but Garic was determined to come in from the east with the sun at their back.

The howl tears through the trees once again, a multitude of feathered vermin take to flight with squwaks and squabbles. Foranthig stumbles and falls over himself to get up and moving once again.

"It's getting closer." Garic whispers and looks for Gord.

Their hands move quickly, relaying simple orders. Gord pulls his left flank in and to the rear before Garic moves them forward again. Foranthig could hardly believe that over a dozen armed and ready soldiers could possibly traverse this harsh terrain in such a coordinated and silent manner. The stories he'd heard of Garic were proving to be more fact than fable. Every limg of his ached, he wanted to stand up fully and stretch his beefy limbs, but he feared more whatever was howling murder in these woods than his arthritis pained joints.

The party comes to a halt as the howl again rips through the air.

Garic scans the tree line over head, Foranthig again comes towards him.

"I don't like that sound..."

Garic lowers his head. "There's been tales of a creature, once a man, driven to the brink of insanity by the Blood Hand. They call them Berserkers, far gone from our world they exist and dream only of the pain and suffering they shall deliver upon their victims."

"Is that true?" Foranthig queries with wide eyes.

Garic looks around quickly. "I get the feeling we're going to find out."

Foranthig didn't respond, but mentally noted that he would now stay much... much closer to Garic. The Captain's arms start to wave, Foranthig follows his eyes to the scout north west of their position, they traded hand signals before the man dissapeared and Garic called in his right flank.

"We're moving into position now, wagon wheel formation. Remember we do not advance until the signal is given."

"Sir, what about..." The howl sounds again. "That." Gulp.

"You act like you've never been hunted before."

Foranthig frowns at that response.

"What do you mean hunted?"

"Into position." Garic moves and is followed without furthur questions.

Moments later the bushes along the western edge of the temple's clearing begin to quake.

"Memnoch!" Garic laughs, his voice coming from the moving bushes. "You and your men stand accused of brigandry, theivery, and murder. The sentence according to the code of these lands is death. But I am in your debt." There's a pause. "I am indebted to you for leading me to this bastion of evil, we have worked hard to scour these wayward men from our lands and without you we may have never found this place. It's all because of you, Memnoch, leading your men here, leaving me a trail to bring all of Blackthorne's might to bear. If you were not an enemy, I may consider you an ally for the service you have provided our cause.

To repay this honor debt I grant you this. You alone, Memnoch, may leave unharmed. You will take a horse, a days worth of rations and go, leave these men to their deaths for this surely is their last hour."

Three bolts sail through the air from the western bushes, slamming the side of the temple harmlessly it isn't long before their smoldering tips begin to spread.

"You had better decide quickly Memnoch, I can tell you from experience that these old buildings burn real fast."