A Fallen Eagle (pt.2)

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Rentris
Posts: 202
Joined: Sun Mar 22, 2015 2:01 am

A Fallen Eagle (pt.2)

Postby Rentris » Sun Jul 08, 2018 6:57 am

Link to Part 1: http://www.wotmod.org/viewtopic.php?f=79&t=7169

(Written by Anor)
A messenger boy from the Fortress of Light rides in to Emond’s Field. His horse frothing at the mouth, mere moments from death. “Has anyone seen Child Anor?” he yells from the peak of the Wagon Bridge.

A farmer cowering behind a turned over wagon points over towards the West End of the Green.

He kicks his horse onwards to continue searching for the Child of Light he was sent to report to. As he rounds the corner on the the Green he spots Child Anor. “Child Anor sir! A message from the Lord Captain Comm..”

Anor holds up a single finger cutting the boys words short. He leans over and wipes his bloody dagger on a crimson cloak of fine Two Rivers wool. He seems to spend more time than should be necessary. Polishing the blade until it gleams brightly in the sunlight. He looks back up at the messenger and waves at him to continue.

“Child Anor sir, there is to be peace. We must cease all hostilities at once!” he yells out. Having finally got his message out the boy turns around and looks at the scene before him. Bodies everywhere. Dead horses, sheep and other livestock. Overturned wagons and farmers carts. A section of wall from a house on the other side of the green suddenly collapses as flames reach skyward. The Winespring Water, once renowned for its pristine clarity, runs red with blood.

Anor looks up at the messenger, “Eighty Three.”

“My Lord?” the boys says in confusion.

“That is how many of them it took before they changed their mind. Personally I thought the number would be much lower but they are a determined bunch.” Child Anor walks over to the stables and takes a horse. Ignoring the screams of protest from a farmer who until today was the proud owner of the horse, he rides slowly south. “Very well ,I will stand down and there will be peace.”

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(Rentris/Avail)
Avail Sa'Ran washed his hands from a bucket on his farm's well; his chores completed for the day. Idle hands always seemed to bring back the memories he so often sought to leave in the past. Memories of another life. Memories that were not his own, yet forever burned into his mind. He stopped washing as his mind flashed of the trolloc hordes crossing the Manetherendrelle. The sounds came rushing back to him as the flashback took him to another age. The horns blowing within the Mountain Home of Manetheren. The army falling back to the city. Men and Women giving their lives so that others may escape. Him standing back to back with his brother as they were over run. Flames only the One Power could wrought consuming the living, the dead and even the stones to bedrock as their Queen cleansed the land in liquid fire.

Shaking his head to clear the memories of the fall of Manetheren, the visions began to fade...but the sounds seemed to linger faintly.

Cursing himself for losing control again, he set about to find more tasks. There was always more to be done on a farm. He took his retirement well and the constant stream of chores kept his mind busy. He had originally sought life on the sea for a time to escape the memories but he was never at ease, never at home beyond what they now called the Two Rivers. He lead a simple life and it normally fit him well.

He set about preparing his evening meal as dusk crept over his lands but still... he could not shake the sounds of that battle. This had him worried as they had never lingered on this long. Glancing out the window he noticed a reddish hue above where the town of Emond's Field should be in the distance. He froze. No bonfire gave that amount of light. His mind raced and he began searching for his old weapon, fearing the worst.

In his haste he gave up on the weapon and grabbed the one fathom of anchor chain from his travels and set off on foot across the fields towards the village. A 30 minute hike, yet considerably faster than taking a horse all the way out west to the Old Road and north.

Night had laid heavily upon the lands but the burning village lent enough light to guide him and hasten his steps. He saw the white cloaked figures riding south on the Old Road in the distance as he continued his trek across the fields. His legs and lungs burnt with exhaustion yet he ran on, the chain weighing heavily across his shoulders.

Several acres from the town he slowed his pace, both for the consuming exhausting and caution. Mournful wailing filled the air as he stepped carefully around a half-burnt home, now only smoldering and in danger of collapse. He made his way quietly and quickly towards the Village Green. Quickly glancing from the shadows of the Winespring Inn his eyes took in the sight of devastation. The Green was littered with corpses and chaos as few had been spared. The bodies of men, women and children were broken in visceral violence. Overturned wagons and farmers carts. A section of wall from a house on the other side of the green was collapsed from the burning. The Winespring Water, once renowned for its pristine clarity, was stained red

Coming out from his hidden space as if entranced by the devastation. The coppery smell of gore filled his nostril and his eyes glazed in stunned disbelief. The memories struggled to regain control, yet he shoved them back down.

Moving to one of the men the huddled around what appeared to be slain family he took his arm and lead him away. Hari Coplin sobbed in mournful gasps. "What Happened??" Avail demanded.
"They came seeking one of your sort! This is YOUR FAULT" he screamed at Avail.
Confused, Avail tried to speak soothingly to Hari Coplin, but knew he was never the reasonable sort on the best of days, but now he had two boys to bury.

"Who?! Who did this?!" Avail asked.
"The bloody Children of the Light did this, fool! The only reason any of us are still alive is become some boy-messenger came up saying Pedron Niall commanded their return."

Hari collapsed in anguish and it was then that Avail saw him. His breath caught in his throat and he almost joined Hari on the ground.
His own brother, not just of shared history, but of same mother; his true blood-born brother lay broken amongst the the deceased.
Legs stiff and mind numb he slowly walked to Rentris, gazing down on the body. With an eye socket caved in from a blunt impact, his face was covered in dried blood and there open wounds across his abdomen with signs of scorching. He knelt beside the body, placing his head on the chest of his brother as the sense of loss began to fill him. It was then he felt the shallow rise and fall of breathing. Hope flooded his veins and he scrambled to the Winespring Inn seeking someone to help carry.

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Months had past since the the sacking of Emond's Field. The villagers slowly rebuilt their ruined homes, too stubborn to leave. The loss was still felt and many still grieved for those that were taken from them.

Rentris' shattered skull required outsider assistance to heal, but the eye could not be saved. His face had become a landscape of scars and ruin. He wore no eye patch, opting for a forged prosthetic in its place. He again sat in his favorite chair, the hearth fire crackling nearby. During his recovery the brothers and sisters of the Red Eagle had voted him to be one of their leaders. His brother Avail sat on a nearby barstool and Kelvan stood off to the side. All eyes were on the two villagers; Hari Coplin and his cousin's sister's twice-removed nephew, Vargo Coplin. Vargo appeared to be on the younger side, barely able to call himself a man yet. He was wire-thin and had the look of arrogance of the Coplin and Congar clans.

"I can get you in, ain't no problem" claimed Vargo Coplin. "Ain't no way they be catchin ol' Vargo"

The Coplins had a long history of annoyance and complaining. They were well known within all of the Two Rivers as unreliable at best... yet this was the first that any of the Red Eagles had heard of them volunteering for...well... anything. The deaths of their brood had them up in arms, and Rentris did not intend to deny them their small part.

Rentris looked to the other council members. Avail nodded. Kelvan said nothing.

It was decided then...Vargo would leave in the morning.

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Vargo walked through the bustling city streets of Amador. His eyes bulged at the sheer size of the sprawling city. So many people in one place was unthinkable. The city was kept clean by the unfathomable amounts of guards. Some wore the Defender of the Gate insignia while most donned the white cloaks and golden sunburst of the Children. His hatred for those around him seethed as he kept his head down, winding his way through the avenues towards the massive fortress within the heart of the city.

He was stopped at the fortress gates. The guards, eyeing him warily, asked him his purpose. "I came to see some witches burn! I'm looking to enlist" Vargo quoted, remembering the brainless blind chatter of some of the whitecloaks. The gate guard nodded and ordered him to go directly to the recruitment office. Vargo agreed with no intention of doing anything of the sort.

Having collected a white cloak near the new recruit's practice yard, he feigned his allegiance. His arrogant Coplin glower fit in perfectly with the mindless white horde and he blended well as he scouted the layout of the heavily defended heart of the fortress. Overhearing that a new recruit was to receive his orders from Pedron Niall himself, he followed the Second Squadman at a distance to a pair of locked doors at the base of a large staircase. He overheard the door guards shout "All Welcome Child Deien!" as they let the recruit pass. Vargo knew it was only a matter of time before he would exit. He mimicked the guards at the door and waited patiently for the doors to open again.
Last edited by Cerys on Sat Jul 14, 2018 10:42 am, edited 5 times in total.
Reason: Awarded

Rentris
Posts: 202
Joined: Sun Mar 22, 2015 2:01 am

Re: A Fallen Eagle (pt.2)

Postby Rentris » Sun Jul 08, 2018 7:02 am

pt 3 - the finale to come tomorrow/later today. Too tired to keep typing

Also, Sorry to Anor to posting your RP letter without permission. I loved it though. Was very well written. Will remove it if you wish.

Anor
Posts: 153
Joined: Mon Jan 04, 2016 2:44 am

Re: A Fallen Eagle (pt.2)

Postby Anor » Sun Jul 08, 2018 9:44 am

Go for it. Doesn't make sense without my bit of story there. Now back to plotting revenge.


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