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operations:public:history:the_war_of_302_-_narrative [2025/06/12 06:55] – created ericoperations:public:history:the_war_of_302_-_narrative [2025/06/12 07:00] (current) – eric
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 'So I have the old fool’s attention now.' He thought to himself. 'Now the fun begins. 'So I have the old fool’s attention now.' He thought to himself. 'Now the fun begins.
  
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 “NO! Parry you moron! Ugh!” General Wolfrum beat the pommel of his sword against his forehead in frustration, his eyes briefly flashing red beneath his sweat drenched brow. The Draconian Warlord marched briskly across the field, sheathing his sword and muttering an arcane spell as the young soldier’s eyes rolled back into his head. “NO! Parry you moron! Ugh!” General Wolfrum beat the pommel of his sword against his forehead in frustration, his eyes briefly flashing red beneath his sweat drenched brow. The Draconian Warlord marched briskly across the field, sheathing his sword and muttering an arcane spell as the young soldier’s eyes rolled back into his head.
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 “Ha! Stew it is then!” Arioch replied as he turned back toward the palace, leaving Wolfrum to his training. “Ha! Stew it is then!” Arioch replied as he turned back toward the palace, leaving Wolfrum to his training.
  
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 “What threat would that be?” King Lirum-Duhl spit. “What could you possibly know that my scouts would not have reported first?” “What threat would that be?” King Lirum-Duhl spit. “What could you possibly know that my scouts would not have reported first?”
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 “It will be done, milord.” The guard said as he started toward the door. “It will be done, milord.” The guard said as he started toward the door.
  
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 “Did you have to bring so much, Wolfrum?” King Arioch asked teasingly as the two of them walked the gardens late in the evening. Wolfrum snorted in reply, his mail shining in the bright moon light. “Did you have to bring so much, Wolfrum?” King Arioch asked teasingly as the two of them walked the gardens late in the evening. Wolfrum snorted in reply, his mail shining in the bright moon light.
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 “Relax old friend, you've nothing to worry about.” “Relax old friend, you've nothing to worry about.”
  
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 After his audience with Lirum-Duhl, Ivallion left the palace and made his way to the stables where a groom already had his gelding brushed, fed, watered, and saddled. With a curt nod to the young groom, Ivallion took the reins in his thickly gloved hand and led his horse out of the enclosure, the soft scent of fresh hay following him out into the bright morning sun. Wanting a moment to contemplate his next move, the Artificer continued to lead his equine companion on foot through the already busy streets of Leib-Olmai. After his audience with Lirum-Duhl, Ivallion left the palace and made his way to the stables where a groom already had his gelding brushed, fed, watered, and saddled. With a curt nod to the young groom, Ivallion took the reins in his thickly gloved hand and led his horse out of the enclosure, the soft scent of fresh hay following him out into the bright morning sun. Wanting a moment to contemplate his next move, the Artificer continued to lead his equine companion on foot through the already busy streets of Leib-Olmai.
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 With a smile, the Artificer handed the toy to the youngest of the children, mounted his gelding, and rode away leaving the awestruck younglings staring after him. With a smile, the Artificer handed the toy to the youngest of the children, mounted his gelding, and rode away leaving the awestruck younglings staring after him.
  
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 "Your Majesty!" "Your Majesty!"
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 "Forgive me... my king... I..." "Forgive me... my king... I..."
  
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 "What do you mean you lost him?" Wolfrum roared to the Ariadnian soldier. The Draconian Lord's eyes trailed red fumes as he paced the floor of the library. The soldier shifted his feet uneasily. "What do you mean you lost him?" Wolfrum roared to the Ariadnian soldier. The Draconian Lord's eyes trailed red fumes as he paced the floor of the library. The soldier shifted his feet uneasily.
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 "Arioch is not going to like this..." Wolfrum muttered to himself as he made his way to the King's chambers to deliver the news. "Arioch is not going to like this..." Wolfrum muttered to himself as he made his way to the King's chambers to deliver the news.
  
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 "Attacked you?" King Lirum-Duhl exclaimed. "Attacked you?" King Lirum-Duhl exclaimed.
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 "So it's true then..." The King said, more to himself than to anyone else. "Captain, assemble a team. If Arioch wants a war, then we shall bring him one." "So it's true then..." The King said, more to himself than to anyone else. "Captain, assemble a team. If Arioch wants a war, then we shall bring him one."
  
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 An unseasonably cold wind blew across the moor, ruffling the layers of brightly colored cloth draped about Madame Zsuzsanna's waist. The small silver and gold bells hanging from her garter made soft tinkling noises, seeming to answer the harsh breath of the wind, a conversation of whispers in the otherwise silent evening. The full moon shone above, a reddish haze veiling its face in the star-speckled sky. The Ramvovi turned her milky white eyes to the heavens, taking in the arrangement of bright pinpoints against the velvet backdrop. An unseasonably cold wind blew across the moor, ruffling the layers of brightly colored cloth draped about Madame Zsuzsanna's waist. The small silver and gold bells hanging from her garter made soft tinkling noises, seeming to answer the harsh breath of the wind, a conversation of whispers in the otherwise silent evening. The full moon shone above, a reddish haze veiling its face in the star-speckled sky. The Ramvovi turned her milky white eyes to the heavens, taking in the arrangement of bright pinpoints against the velvet backdrop.
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 "Jes, evil iz afoot zis night." She said as horse and rider disappeared into the night toward Ariadnian town proper. "Jes, evil iz afoot zis night." She said as horse and rider disappeared into the night toward Ariadnian town proper.
  
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 "Secure the perimeter and hold that line!" Wolfrum's voice carried over the clash of metal and cries of pain that filled the night. "Get those damn portals sealed." "Secure the perimeter and hold that line!" Wolfrum's voice carried over the clash of metal and cries of pain that filled the night. "Get those damn portals sealed."
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 The enraged Draconian thrust his hands toward the intruder as he completed the incantation, sending a ray of black-green energy through the mage's defenses, shattering his spellshields, and reducing him to a pile of smoldering robes. Wolfrum leapt over the ruined pile of silk, gems, and liquified flesh, turning in midair and reaching toward the corridor behind him as his glistening sword flew up to meet his outstretched hand. The Warlord landed in a crouch, his blade raised before him in a two-handed grip and tendrils of smoke wisping from his nostrils as he quickly surveyed the vast chambers of King Arioch. The enraged Draconian thrust his hands toward the intruder as he completed the incantation, sending a ray of black-green energy through the mage's defenses, shattering his spellshields, and reducing him to a pile of smoldering robes. Wolfrum leapt over the ruined pile of silk, gems, and liquified flesh, turning in midair and reaching toward the corridor behind him as his glistening sword flew up to meet his outstretched hand. The Warlord landed in a crouch, his blade raised before him in a two-handed grip and tendrils of smoke wisping from his nostrils as he quickly surveyed the vast chambers of King Arioch.
  
----+----
  
 The metallic scent of blood and the sound of raging battle reached Master Artificer Ivallion long before he arrived at the treeline outside of Ariadnian Citadel. He dismounted his gelding, removed the saddle and harness, and sent it off into the woods with a sharp smack on the rump. From behind the cover of the thick, gnarled wood of an Elder tree, Ivallion took in the scene before him. He chuckled softly to himself. The metallic scent of blood and the sound of raging battle reached Master Artificer Ivallion long before he arrived at the treeline outside of Ariadnian Citadel. He dismounted his gelding, removed the saddle and harness, and sent it off into the woods with a sharp smack on the rump. From behind the cover of the thick, gnarled wood of an Elder tree, Ivallion took in the scene before him. He chuckled softly to himself.
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 "Master will be pleased." "Master will be pleased."
  
----+----
  
 The sound of soft sobs met Wolfrum at the door of the King's bed chambers. Lowering his sword, the Draconian stepped into the room to find King Arioch on the floor by the window kneeling over the sprawled bodies of his wife and daughter. At Wolfrum's approach, the King snapped his head up and raised his hand, bright golden energy crackling at his palm. As recognition dawned on the grief-stricken Arioch, tears began to fall down his tear-streaked face again. The sound of soft sobs met Wolfrum at the door of the King's bed chambers. Lowering his sword, the Draconian stepped into the room to find King Arioch on the floor by the window kneeling over the sprawled bodies of his wife and daughter. At Wolfrum's approach, the King snapped his head up and raised his hand, bright golden energy crackling at his palm. As recognition dawned on the grief-stricken Arioch, tears began to fall down his tear-streaked face again.
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 "No, no, no... not now!" Wolfrum said, breaking his silence. He hesitated only a moment before turning and running from the room and turned toward the door, channeling magical energy into his sword as he swiftly navigated the corridors of the palace. In all Wolfrum's many years walking this plane—and others—he had heard the battle cries from just as many creatures. But one in particular stood out from the rest. One more ominous than any other. One that belonged to the creature responsible for the scar running along the side of his face. One he wished never to hear again. The one he was hearing at that very moment. The cry of the Agathora Stormsilk, the Spider Queen... "No, no, no... not now!" Wolfrum said, breaking his silence. He hesitated only a moment before turning and running from the room and turned toward the door, channeling magical energy into his sword as he swiftly navigated the corridors of the palace. In all Wolfrum's many years walking this plane—and others—he had heard the battle cries from just as many creatures. But one in particular stood out from the rest. One more ominous than any other. One that belonged to the creature responsible for the scar running along the side of his face. One he wished never to hear again. The one he was hearing at that very moment. The cry of the Agathora Stormsilk, the Spider Queen...
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operations/public/history/the_war_of_302_-_narrative.1749711309.txt.gz · Last modified: 2025/06/12 06:55 by eric
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