Of Silver and Steel
Ninth Day of the Second Month 294 AC
Salthal Ral was not the usual sort of legionnaire to march under the banner of the Dragon King. He was not a former slave looking for vengeance or purpose, nor a former sellsword interested in a steady stream of silver or looking forward to a land grant. As the son of a once prosperous mercantile family in the Summer Isles, he had sought his fortune in Lys and found less success than he had hoped. He had eventually come to make his living as a scribe and 'assistant' to a wealthy magister who could not be bothered to actually pay attention to his duties. When the conquest came, someone had realized that Salthal's writing was on most of the documents his former employer sealed and the next thing he knew he had been given the job.
I might still be putting seals on land transactions if I hadn't decided to go drinking that first Tree Night. It wasn't every day a bureaucrat with barely enough skill at arms to know his way around a knife saved a minotaur, twelve feet tall horns and all, from being sacrificed by a bunch of lunatics hoping to conjure up some demons. Sometimes all you needed to win a fight was being in the right place at the right time... with a bottle of strong wine and a lantern.
Lyrgyl had been very grateful to his new friend. Their company had been doing poorly for logistics and the job paid better than pushing parchments around in Lys. He even got to push around some of that new Yi Tish rice paper, which is how Salthal ended up dressed in hardened steel and looking at a silvery portal to 'the city of the dead'.
The young clerk, for truly he thought of himself as more of that than a soldier, tried to remember all the assurances of the red-robed Scholarum sorcerer who had explained that these revenants were not of a mind to drink the blood and tears of the living.
He bit his tongue to keep from screaming at the sight of row upon row of dead men in armor of rusted iron and tarnished bronze, at engines of war and sorcery bound with the ghostly glow of the dead, and in the midst, upon a chariot of gold polished to shine like the sun and opals black as a starlit night, grandeur enduring even in its tomb, was a queen with a will that would not crumble through the ages of the world's passing.
Golden-scaled serpents slithered through the portal behind him, eyes bright with old magic and secrets older than mankind. Above the square black-winged angels flew and a dragon's roar shook the ancient stones, eager at the thought of battles against another host, a match and more for the one that dead queen brought forth.
Salthal put one foot in front of the other like some brass automaton, but he could not help but think,
This was no place for a clerk playing at war.
"Don't go running out on me, little scribe," Lyrgyl set one large warm hand on his shoulder. "Who will tally my kills if you go?" Seeing that the jest did not land as it should, the minotaur turned Salthal bodily about to look back at the column still marching through the wizard's gate, row upon row and line upon line, infantry and cavalry, sorcerers shrouded in the haze of their own power as hard as steel chain, darkenbeasts enough to cover the face of the sun as they took to the sky.
Mighty were the dead of Sarnor woken by some fel curse, but mighty were they also who marched with hardened of steel.
What is the first action of the Legion?
[] Send out Erinyes scouts
-[] Towards Gornath
-[] Towards Sarnath
-[] Write in target
[] Scout in force, including Darkenbeasts
-[] Towards Gornath
-[] Towards Sarnath
-[] Write in target
[] March on Sarnath, keeping the scouting screen close
[] Write in
OOC: A bit more of a glimpse into minotaur integration this time around, we have not heard of them in a while, outside of Argo at least.