I just hope their response isn't some kind of asspull that somehow slipped everyone's notice that undoes our work. Hitting their ability to project power Should have functionally eradicated this entire army as a threat for the next year or so, and you'd figure "Stockpiling enough supply to keep multiple armies on an offensive posture, twice" would have been noticed by Someone a while back.
I took the gamble by focusing on hitting them in the logistics rather than racking up a body count, but this is Fire Emblem so who knows what kind of magical bullshit exists as a hole card. The only good news is that them having to Play that card will let us know that we need to be wary of it in the future.
God, it really better not turn out to be that'll be what the Duke's counterplay is. "I'm going to kill a shitton of my own dudes and blame it on the Dragon so I can get reinforcements while I also regain my ability to threaten even if I lose a lot of my mass". But he... Shouldn't have enough monopoly of force after we scattered his Wyvern Riders to get away with that, so if he dares to try, it should backfire on him.
That would be, at best, cutting off his nose to spite his face. And not just for the obvious reason! We just wrecked his ability to feed and arm his current soldiers; reinforcements might bring new weapons, but they'd be hard-pressed to replace perishable supplies.
Circling back to the obvious reason: He has basically no chance of decimating his troops and blaming it on the dragon. At best, there will be a bunch of survivors and uneasy subordinates happy to report this behavior to higher authorities. At worst, there will be one or two conventionally-attractive survivors/subordinates who almost immediately join the enemy Lord's army, providing both military intelligence and a new unit.
I will say this! I am excite to see what the loot was! And what the reaction to this was! "Dragon!" combined with "... But they mostly spent their time torching your supplies instead of eating and murdering your dudes, and in fact, generally ignored your dudes as long as they didn't try to stop it", is a pretty strong point in favor of our propaganda, but on the other hand, rumors gonna rumor and they are Incredibly incentivized to push a bullshit narrative where we did murder a bunch of them.
I will have to admit I have doubts on this actually working out as a strong point in favor of the narrative we want.
Logically speaking? The actions Ryza undertook are no different from any other airborne mage serving in a military capacity (E.G. Lacroix Skyfire), bar the Dragon transformation, and what she did here is little different from a pragmatic approach to warfare. She went in, struck back against the things most likely to be able to stop her before they could do anything, then crippled the logistics of the army to all hell, alongside the main army, before leaving basically as soon as that was done. Coordinated and coherent strategic combat against an enemy army preparing to attack them.
Emotionally speaking? Their equivalent of an archdemon came out of nowhere with an entire army to boot in a massive ambush and wrecked house, suddenly and violently. She immediately zeroed in on the loyal mounts of the Empire and killed or incapacitated several alongside their riders and anyone nearby, then immediately set about annihilating all the food and weapons with brutal efficiency. Including the weapons most likely to be specifically capable of harming her best, and shrugging off everything they could throw at her while she was at it. All the while the Kingdom armies ambushed, pillaged and ransacked basically the rest of the camp, likely racking up more casualties.
The slack-jawed soldier Ryza pulled out of the tent is unlikely to be thinking of mercy even though that's exactly what she showed, because Ryza's singleminded determination and overwhelming power, literally out of their own myths, was terrifying. That terror is the thing that's going to be on their minds, and they'll have cause to be terrified. And people being terrified of her (for no good reason) is exactly what Ryza is trying to fight against. Reminder, Artemis (basically Ryza's BF who knew what being a Manakete meant at that point) was freaked out over Dragon!Ryza rescuing her. On the attack like that, I'm willing to bet that poor imp's got Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. And/or is Sergeant Freddy of Kringen, IE, the person who's quote is at the top of the threadmark and is not exactly flattering.
All this said, the odds this impedes the Revisionists are low. People predisposed to Ryza and the narrative she's pushing will easily look at the logical version of events - Ryza is a solider fighting for the Kingdoms and is acting accordingly with her full might, as anyone else in that position would. And the people predisposed against her will hear the tales of the dreadful might of the devilish fiends that ransacked the world ages ago in this attack and claim it as vindication for their beliefs. It's a net neutral at best, and at worst... Probably a mild malus? And I suspect Salvador will understand the logical version of events, which is important in particular as I suspect the encounter with him is imminent.
Also that roll for 'no particular reason' seriously concerns me. Did Melissa give Sister Selinda the slip? Is that Salvador being imminently in the area (and liable to attack with whatever the camp can muster)? Monsters? Reinforcements? Secretly just kind of a neutral thing? At least we got a high-ish loot roll.
Their equivalent of an archdemon came out of nowhere with an entire army to boot in a massive ambush and wrecked house, suddenly and violently. She immediately zeroed in on the loyal mounts of the Empire and killed or incapacitated several alongside their riders and anyone nearby, then immediately set about annihilating all the food and weapons with brutal efficiency. Including the weapons most likely to be specifically capable of harming her best, and shrugging off everything they could throw at her while she was at it. All the while the Kingdom armies ambushed, pillaged and ransacked basically the rest of the camp, likely racking up more casualties.
The slack-jawed soldier Ryza pulled out of the tent is unlikely to be thinking of mercy even though that's exactly what she showed, because Ryza's singleminded determination and overwhelming power, literally out of their own myths, was terrifying. That terror is the thing that's going to be on their minds, and they'll have cause to be terrified. And people being terrified of her (for no good reason) is exactly what Ryza is trying to fight against. Reminder, Artemis (basically Ryza's BF who knew what being a Manakete meant at that point) was freaked out over Dragon!Ryza rescuing her. On the attack like that, I'm willing to bet that poor imp's got Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. And/or is Sergeant Freddy of Kringen, IE, the person who's quote is at the top of the threadmark and is not exactly flattering.
All those words about how this could be interpreted poorly are certainly a bad thing for what we're trying to do, but here I am thinking that actually sounds really cool.
Archdemon Ryza comes in and gets shit done, whether you survive or not is of no consequence.
Well, either way, Ryza's behaviour will cause some ripples.
Becuase a lot of the old stories they have about dragons depict them as bestial, rampaging monsters, possessed at best of a form of animal cunning. A great deal of effort has been made to hide or destroy all evidence of them being intelligent and capable of civilization building and coexistance. But this was not the act of something bestial. This was planned. It was targeted. It was done with allies. And it was executed smoothly and efficiently.
Even the dragon-haters will be forced to acknowledge that this is a thinking dragon, not a beast. Though that won't always be to our benefit.
"It Can Think" is consistently one of the most terrifying reveals any monster-focused slasher movie can pull. I suspect we're about to see what that's like when applied on a national scale.
They likely won't underestimate us anymore which isn't really good. I got the impression that overall their numbers are better than ours, even with our alliances.
"It Can Think" is consistently one of the most terrifying reveals any monster-focused slasher movie can pull. I suspect we're about to see what that's like when applied on a national scale.
Southern and Northern Kingdoms have obviously thrown in with a new Fell Dragon, the people of the Empire must unit against this threat to all life!
Levee an mass conscription of Imperial Population and mobilizing legions even at risk of starvation to strike into Northern and Southern Kingdoms with every settlement town and city of Fell Dragon Worshipers to be sacked and put to the sword. That's near what I'm thinking of a absolutely worst case response, bar dark magic rituals, or somehow infiltrating and seizing Marble Hall with sealed/promoted assassins. And yeah this is insanity, but it would be perfect for causing much of the Empire, the Kingdoms and civilization as a whole to collapse into infighting in the ensuing chaos.
I'm hoping the more rational Imperials will be able to do something in the result of this one sided battle we just gave the Duke and his army though.
[X] Fall back. It rankles at your determination to turn tail like that, but heart-you reassures you that you've Done Your Job, and there's no need to risk Angela and Bucephila and Alexandra to try and win harder. Sometimes, it's best to quit when you're ahead.
"I'm glad she's on our side..."
-Holga, Agrithian Fighter
"I think we should pull back."
You bristle at Artemis's words. "But my mission is not complete yet!" you argue, your eyes narrowing as you watch the three wyverns maneuver in the sky. You can reach them! You can stop them! The only reason you're not already in the air on the way towards this Duke Wellingford is because Artemis still has her hands on your wing, so if you were to use your flight magic you'd hurt her, which is unacceptable! You start pulling your wing from her grip so that you can get on with your task.
However, it seems she knows you well, as she clings on more tightly. "Ryza, Ryza stop and think!" she says, a note of what your heart-self identifies as franticness entering her voice. "You're still injured-"
"No I'm not! I can handle it! I can take them!" you say, pulling your wing harder.
Angela quickly maneuvers her pegasus to press against your other side (despite the creature's clear nervousness). The nexus of Green magic isn't nearly enough to stop you, but it is noticeable and another barrier that's in your way, and only your heart leaning on you prevents you from using your tail to forcefully shoo the intruder away. "Look, look Ryza, I get it! I want to smash all the Imps too-"
You almost sigh, you're not angry, but it's frustrating to be denied your purpose because these humans just don't get it! "I have no interest in most of the Imperials, they are not my mission," you say. "Just those. Three. Wyverns."
Shifting, Artemis slides along your wing until she reaches your body, ducks to your front, and starts gently running her hand along the hair-spines down your back. "Easy, easy Ryza," she says. "You already completed your mission."
You frown as you look back at her. "But I was instructed to kill or drive off the Imperial wyverns, then smash their weapons and supplies," you say. Had she forgotten that already?
Another human approaches, and you glance over Artemis's head to see Alejandro coming up to stand on the other side of your wing from her and gently pat your side (though honestly, with how much he irritates Artemis shocking him alone could count as a side objective rather than a barrier to launch…). "I think what dear Lady Cartese means is that your mission was to drive off or eliminate the wyverns in their nests," he says. "I recall that you were specifically told not to go for the Duke's beast, and those two that just arrived were not included either. You have already carried out your task masterfully, Mistress Ryza. There is no need to show off any more."
Frowning, you scour your memories. Was he right… yes, yes you suppose he was, technically. 'We need those wyverns cleared before they can take flight,' Artemis had said. 'Don't worry about the duke's, it's too dangerous to be worth going alone. Just get rid of the others, and our bows can take care of the rest.'
Still… "There might still be supplies…" you say, switching back to your second objective since fighting your allies to try and complete your first is getting to be more trouble than it's worth.
"Ah, but did we demand that you destroy all of them?" Alejandro says. "Or did we say, and I quote, 'Those supplies and weapons are vital to the Imperial efforts. If they're destroyed, then they can't continue to fight. Destroy as many of them as you can, Ryza, would you?'" He gives a slight grin to Artemis. "I do believe that's what you said, my lady? More or less?"
Your friend throws him a look that's half gratitude, half annoyance. "Much as it pains me to agree with Rignali, he's right," she says. "Ryza, you've done amazingly. Brilliantly. But in every raid, even large ones like this, there comes a moment when it's best to take your win and pull away before the enemy can rally." Angela nods.
…You… suppose, that's true, though it seems to be cheating to lean on technicalities like this. Still, since everyone's saying it… "Alright," you say, lowering your wings. "What is my next task?" Finding another purpose mid-transformation is… difficult, but if it keeps you useful while you still have emotional energy to burn then it'll be worth it.
Artemis finally lets your wing go as she gives a signal to one of the Agrithian soldiers who'd been watching warily from his horse. He nodded before grabbing the big horn hanging at his side and beginning to blow into it. "Well, while I doubt the Duke'd risk coming over to fight, people do stupid things when they're angry," she says. "If he does come into range of our bows, then by all means help us kick his teeth in." That sounds very inefficient as opposed to shooting, shocking and biting him, but you don't waste time or energy commenting. "But that's only if he actually attacks. On the whole, please just be a presence. A threat to give us space to withdraw cleanly."
"It will be done," you say instantly. Like your mission when you left Agrithe, only in reverse. Yes, you can do that.
Artemis pauses before wrapping her arms around your neck. "Don't get hurt anymore, Ryza, not tonight," she says. "The Imperials will know what they're dealing with now; any further enemies will be ready for a dragon." She smirks. "Or, as ready as anyone ever can be, which isn't much."
Snorting, you look up as the three wyverns continue their maneuvers. Instinctively, you recognize that you'd no longer be able to fight them in isolation even if you were already flying. "Carry out your task, Artemis," you say. "And I shall carry out mine."
Your friend nods. "Yes, Ryza," she says before hopping back up on Actaeon and riding back over to her cluster of messengers and bodyguard-riders, starting to yell instructions and gesture wildly again. Alejandro gives you a nod as well before darting off to deal with his soldiers. Huffing, you lift off, followed by Angela and the other Whitewings as you dedicate yourself to being big and visible.
Over the next tens of minutes (time is still difficult for you to accurately measure while you're focused), the various Kingdom soldiers retreat from the ruined Imperial camp. Throughout the once orderly rows of tents, fires are burning, screams and moans can be heard, and the scent of ash and death hangs upon the air. There are still clusters of resistance, and groups of heavily armored soldiers are beginning to carefully poke out from the fortified center of the camp, covered by the Duke and his wyvern wingmen.
However, as Artemis had predicted, the Imperials don't seem to have the nerve to come fight, at least not until they've organized. Which leaves you only occasionally flapping up into the air to give a roar or two before ducking down to smash up some small pocket of supplies you'd missed. Just because Artemis had given you a directive to be a Presence, didn't mean you couldn't continue carrying out your second mission!
As your emotions begin to burn low, you land in the remains of one of the armory-tents you'd burned earlier, roaring at a few Imperial survivors who'd started poking at it as the Kingdom soldiers leave. The Imperials flee instantly, and you're about to launch again when your foot kicks something. Looking down, you frown as you realize that one of the weapons hadn't been broken properly, simply being buried in the ash. (Loot Roll: d6>5, Specific: d4>1)
It's a well-made weapon, you think. A long sword with a strangely open interior, connected by a mis-mash of glowing blue spurs. The blade itself also shines with runes that exude magical energy. A flicker of anger is suppressed by your heart before it can feed into your driving will, so you study the weapon dispassionately. You should probably break that… if you'd been at full focus you already would have, but now you have to think about it. You're getting tired. Shaking your head, you raise a taloned foot to smash the blade.
"Hey, big girl, wait!" a voice calls.
Turning, you raise an eyeridge as you see Belle dashing towards you, Kelton huffing along in her wake. "Hello, Belle," you say, even as you chide yourself for getting distracted.
She reaches you, patting your foreleg. "Saw you land, figured we'd check to make sure you're okay," she says. "Hey Angie, big girl give you any problems?"
The pegasus knight raises an eyebrow. "I wouldn't phrase it like that," she says.
Belle laughs. "Yeah, but I'm one of her best friends," she says, ruffling your spines. "She loves me, so I can get away with saying stuff like that." She looks down before going rigid. "Holy sh-indigs is that a Brave Sword?!"
You shrug. "I guess so. It's an Imperial weapon, so I was about to destroy it."
Instantly, your friend starts shaking her head. "What, are you crazy?!" she says, bending down and snatching it up. "These things are super useful and valuable!"
"But it is an Imperial weapon," you say, reaching out and trying to grab it. However, tired as you are, Belle is able to dance out of your reach. "I was tasked with destroying Imperial weapons."
Kelton chuckles. "What're you talking about, Ryza?" he says. "It's clearly Belle's weapon. She's holding it, after all, and I heard somewhere that possession's nine-tenths of the law or something."
The thief grins at him. "Yep. Yep, no Imperial weapons here, just Belle's new baby," she purrs, running her hand along the blade to dust off the ash.
…This strange human conception of ownership and reality doesn't really make sense to you, but as your Determination begins to flicker and wane you can't summon up the energy to argue about it. "Okay," you say, lowering your foot. "Well, what now?"
Another horn sounds to the east, from the outside of the camp. Bucephila and Alexandra, circling above you, quickly make some gestures that you recognize as a recall order. "Lady Artemis says-" Angela starts.
"I understand," you say. "Belle, Kelton, get on, we seem to be leaving, and my task is to be a Presence and ensure that everyone makes it safely away. That means we should leave."
"We won't get in your way?" Kelton asks, glancing towards where the three wyverns still circle at a safe distance.
"We will not be going too high, if necessary I will drop you off and engage in mission 'kick their teeth in,'" you say, drawing snickers from all the nearby humans. "But I will not leave you here."
Kelton and Belle glance at each other before nodding. "Alright, if that's what you want," Belle says, hopping onto a crumbling box to get enough hight to straddle your back with another jump before offering her hand down to Kelton, helping him join her.
As you lift off, you briefly see Duke Wellingford and his men start turning towards you, but the sound of nearby hoofbeats announces that you have an escort of yeomen (you smell both Axton and Lancel among them, which is comforting). Seeing this, the Imperials turn away again and drop low enough to start rallying more of the scrambling Imperial survivors.
As you fly back towards the mass of Kingdom warriors preparing to leave in an organized fashion, your heart pokes you. 'Before we declare mission complete, could you do one more thing?'
You are… tired, but you nod. 'Yes, what is it?'
It takes your other self a mere second to explain the entire plan at the speed of thought, and another second for you to instinctively measure your remaining strength and figure that this act won't interfere with the amount you'd need to expend to defend the retreat if the wyverns did try something. In fact, it'd barely take any at all.
Flapping a little higher, you turn into a hover between the Kingdom soldiers and the Imperials. Drawing in a deep breath, you bellow at the top of your lungs so that your words echo through the burning ruins of the camp.
"This does not need to continue! We want only to live free, to not be invaded or our friends to be attacked or children kidnapped or our homes plundered or ANYTHING LIKE THAT!" you shout. "Just GO AWAY! Go back to your own homes, your own families, and this stupidity can END!Take the hint that you don't have weapons to fight with anymore or food to eat here and let this allSTOP!" Shooting a final breath of lighting into the air to put an exclamation mark on your point, you drop back into a glide towards the Kingdom army.
"…Ryza…" Kelton says, more loudly than he really needs to, and when you glance back at him he's clutching at his ears. "A little warning next time!" Belle moans, shaking her head with a dazed expression.
"Sorry," you say. You never wanted to hurt Belle or Kelton.
'It was my fault,' Heart-you says. 'I should have remembered you'd carry out any task instantly and had you drop them off first.'
Finally, however, you fly over the Kingdom army as it begins to march away, carrying as many of their own wounded with them as they can. You see healers begin to swarm forwards from the force of Parvei armor knights to tend to those they could. ???: DC 10 -2+5=13: 3, 7, 16
As you start flaring your wings, wanting to get down to the ground before your well of emotion runs dry and Heart-You takes over again, you vaguely noticed that two of the healers are sticking pretty close together while others fan out solo, probably to help more wounded. Honestly, though, you don't really care. It isn't your mission, so it isn't your problem. Instead, you focus on looking for Artemis, spotting her near the back of the formation. Angling towards her, you finally came in for a hard, tired landing.
"Welcome back, Ryza," your friend says, coxing Actaeon to get close enough that she can reach out and stroke your side as you walked beside her. "I heard what you had to say."
"Do you think it will work?" you ask her on prompting from your other self as the last dregs of your emotional energy fade away. Clearly recognizing the signs, Belle and Kelton hop off, leaving you to finally let go of the transformation. The last thing you hear as you return to your small heart-form is Artemis's quiet response.
"I don't know, Ryza… but for your sake, I hope so."
The last leg of a journey always feels the longest. When it involves traveling to a known destination, that's because of the anticipation of the transit finally being over, allowing one to either rest or carry out the task set before them.
When going someplace new, it's mostly the frustration of actually finding the spirits-cursed place!
Salvador had been to every major city in the Empire in his time as a Wyrmguard, usually following Thaddeus around as the late and lamented Emperor worked to keep his ancestors' domain trundling along the path of history without letting the idiots of the realm upend things. Salvador'd even been to many of the larger villages and hamlets surrounding the major cities and along the paths between the Heartland of the Empire and the borders of other nations.
Despite his vast travel experience, however, one place the Wyvern Lord had never been was "some hill near the north end of the border with the Northern Kingdoms." Which was how the location of Duke-General Wellingford's Army of the Northlands had been described to him by the overawed villagers of the last little collection of huts he'd stopped by when Ignition would fly no further without a generous bribe of food.
It wasn't that the collection of shepherds and farmers had been trying to be unhelpful. On the contrary, they'd been very eager to point him where he needed to go. Unfortunately, while he was sure their directions made perfect sense to them, they were far less useful to him. Salvador was a man who'd grown up amidst the strikingly distinct cliffs and plateaus of the Heartland, who'd followed paved roads with regular distance markers and a well-organized and centrally-funded network of way stations and patrols, so parsing out what counted as a hill, what counted as a mound, and which particular patch of trees they meant by "the big grove with the hole in the center" was nearly impossible.
However, there had been one very important (and concerning) piece of information given. "Please be careful, Lord Blade," a little girl had said as he'd been about to leave, having bravely approached even while clutching a straw-stuffed wyvern doll to her chest as she stared up at him with big eyes. "My brothers 'nd cousins were out at the mill on that mound over there chasing away rats, and they said a bunch of pegasuses started attacking them until they threw rocks at them and they flew away. Be sure to bring some rocks to throw at them if they attack you."
As a woman who was probably the girl's mother hustled forward to drag her away, apologizing profusely for the bother, Salvador had waved a hand. "Good information can come from any source," he'd said, giving a nod to the little girl. "Thank you for the warning, young one. I will be careful." The child had smiled at that, waving her toy towards Ignition. The big wyvern had clearly been confused, but had given a rumbling noise that had hopefully been interpreted as friendly by the commoners.
Salvador hadn't even been lying to make the girl feel better, that piece of information had been extremely important, and he was slightly frustrated that nobody else in any of the other villages had been able to stop fawning long enough to mention it to him! Pegasus raids (for all that he doubted they'd actually harassed the mill, let alone been chased off by little boys throwing stones) implied that a force from the South had arrived. While it was technically possible that the Northern Kingdoms had hired some Whitewings themselves, they likely wouldn't have risked those assets on deep raids into wyvern-patrolled territory.
Which meant that the war was probably about to get a lot more complicated. If it hadn't already. If he'd known that a day or two earlier, he'd have been able to step up his timetables and get where he needed to be faster! Now, all he can do is hope he's not too late.
The Blade of the Emperor is drawn from his thoughts by a hiss from Ignition. "What is it?" he asks, pulling himself to the present and beginning to scan the area. Wyverns may not always have the foresight to know how to best proceed in a complex situation, but something every wise wyvern rider learns is that their senses are far better than a human's. Thus, when they started reacting to something, you should pay attention!
The massive wyvern dips lower, growling softly as his eyes scan the ground below the pair. Leaning to encourage Ignition to tilt and circle, Salvador adds his own gaze to the search.
It takes only a few seconds to spot what Ignition had noticed, a group of men skulking around in the shade of a small group of trees. The Wyrmguardsman briefly considers if they're locals, but quickly discards the idea. Not only are they not moving with the confidence or openness of locals, but Ignition's clearly concerned by them. While a young, inexperienced wyvern might get confused and hyper focus on any humans sighted below, Ignition is an old, intelligent, cunning creature. He knows how to tell random peasants from something worth bringing to Salvador's attention.
"Good eyes, Ignition," Salvador says, patting his companion's neck as he turns into a shallow dive. Either they're a patrol from the Northlands army and can point him in the right direction, or they're a Kingdom raiding force that needs to be… dealt with.
The latter is looking more likely, as Salvador saw and heard panicked noises coming from below as the unknown soldiers scramble for deeper cover. Frowning, he draws the Fell Slayer, letting the strength of the two dragonstones flood him. He is the Blade of the Emperor. He is Theodore's Chosen. He will solve this situation.
Letting out a final roar, Ignition smashes through some branches to land in front of a cluster of haggard-looking men in armor. With a swiftness born of long experience, Salvador scans the six soldiers for distinguishing features even as they stumbled back, crying out in fear.
The thing he notices immediately is that these are Imperial soldiers. They all wear either the traditional red breastplate or red-dyed gambesons, though said armor is dirty and scuffed. More concerningly, only one of the men still has his shield, and of the lighter-armored troops only one has his heavy axe. Several of the metal-armored men have their lances still, but the rest only have small daggers and other sidearms, many of which are pointed at Ignition and Salvador.
"Stand down!" the Wyvern Lord commands, letting the Fell Slayer blaze with fire as Ignition roars at the men aggressively. "Drop your weapons in the Emperor's name!"
The lead soldier, the one with both lance and shield, is the first to recognize what's going on. "Oh thank the Emblem!" he says, falling to his knees and dropping his spear as ordered. "You're not that monster!" The other soldiers quickly kneel as well, their signs of fear fading somewhat as they stare at the Fell Slayer.
Detaching himself from his saddle and sliding off, Salvador nudges Ignition and gives a quick gesture to watch their backs. As the wyvern rumbles his agreement and shuffles around, Salvador moves to stand in front of the men, planting the tip of the Fell Slayer into the ground in front of him as fire weaves around it in what's surely a mesmerizing display. "What are you doing here, soldiers?" he asks sharply. "Where is Duke-General Wellingford's army?"
One of the soldiers further back whimpers. "They're all dead…" he moans even as one of his fellows alternate between telling him to shut up and whimpering themselves. "That void-cursed monster came down spewing death and the barbarians were everywhere and everything was on fire-"
A whoosh of flame causes the man's words to end in a startled squawk. "Calm yourself!" Salvador says firmly. "You are soldiers of the Empire, not frightened children! Take a deep breath, then report in a calm, useful manner."
The soldiers glance at each other before slowly starting to nod. "Y-yes, my lord Blade," the leader says, taking the deep breath as commanded. After a few seconds, during which Salvador waits patiently for the frightened soldiers to regain their discipline, the lead man finally starts speaking again. "Well, we were in camp," he says. "Things had been kind of tense, with all the raids and everything, but the cavalry was out forming a cordon along with some of the wyverns, so we figured we were pretty safe." He shivers. "Then… then as Biggs said, that dragon dove on us from the sky, shrieking bloody murder and shooting lighting everywhere."
Ryza was there?! Grandmaster Gunther had predicted that she'd come north, but Salvador had hoped that he'd be able to get here first, with her probably having to travel with the Agrithians. It seemed that they were faster than he'd anticipated. "I see," he says, keeping his voice calm and steady. "What else?"
The soldiers, having paused to see Salvador's reaction, seemed surprised by his lack of shock. "Ah… yes," another of the soldiers continues. "Well, the dragon was flying around attacking the wyverns, then the Kingdom soldiers showed up." She shivers. "Fellbreath, they were everywhere… everyone was screaming and running around and the wyverns were shrieking and dying…"
"Some of the dumb brutes even turned on us!" another of the soldiers snarls, anger overwhelming fear. "Some of my buddies died to one of those-" A warning growl from Ignition shuts the axeman up.
Salvador's thoughts race. It's clear that something terrible had happened at the Imperial camp, which means he needed to get there fast. "How was the battle going when you retreated?" he asks, trying to keep any signs of judgment from his voice. If the Northlands army is as bad off as he fears, they'll need every soldier they can find to reconstitute it. Even the dumb ones who insult wyverns when a large, intelligent member of the species is right there along with the rider who loves and respects him.
The soldiers look at each other again. "It was really hard to tell…" one says. "It seemed like the rebels were everywhere, everything was on fire. If you tried to go get any more weapons than what you had, you either ran into the dragon or found the armory tent on fire. Only place that was sort of clear was the west half of camp, so that's where I went…"
"I think the central fortified section of the camp might have been holding," the female soldier says. "But the second that dragon finished with whatever else it was doing…" The entire group shudders.
Forcing himself not to sigh, Salvador gestures for all of soldiers to stand. It's clear they don't know enough to waste time questioning them when he should just go and find out more from the scene. "Where is the camp?" he asks. "And where is the backup rally point?"
After a few seconds of arguing with each other, the de-facto leader of the group points. "It should be straight that way, my lord Blade," he says. "But we lost track of the rally point while we were running…"
"Dragon probably burned everyone who went there anyways…" one of the others mutters. Salvador chooses to ignore him.
Meanwhile, the leader continues with a grimace. "What… what about us, my lord?" he said, his eyes flicking the the fire-licked sword still in Salvador's hands.
Thinking quickly, the Blade remembers another small hamlet he'd noticed just before Ignition had warned him of these men. "There's a town a few miles that way," he said, pointing. "Take these soldiers, along with anyone else you find on the way, and rally there. Ensure that no further Kingdom raids threaten the citizens and await further orders." Pulling out a piece of parchment, Salvador uses a piece of charcoal to scribble a few words to that effect before taking a small disk of wax and pressing the ornate pommel of the Fell Slayer to it. Heat flares throughout up the sword, causing the wax to melt into the Emperor's Seal: a wyvern flying over a mountain broken in half, a sword in one talon and a crown in the other.
Reverently, the lead soldier takes the offered note as if it's a holy relic rather than just their shield against charges of desertion. "T-thank you, my lord Blade!" he said, reaching down and grabbing his weapon. "It will be done!"
As the cluster of soldiers hurry off, giving their own thanks to Salvador as they go, the man waits for them to be on their way before putting the Fell Slayer back in its sheath and tiredly climbing back onto Ignition. "Why can't things ever be simple, old friend?" he asks his wyvern, who gives a comforting croon before launching back into the air.
For the next twenty minutes, as Salvador flies, he spots several more groups of routing soldiers making their way southwest, which probably means there's plenty more going straight west. Some might even risk skirting the border with the Divine Realm and hug Northwest to try and escape. Each time he sees a group, he pauses briefly to ask them if they know anything new and to direct them towards the rally point he'd set up. None of them have any notable information, but it gives him some cold comfort to know there's some soldiery still in the area, even if the rest of the army has been annihilated.
Finally, however, he spots something more interesting.
A larger group of tired-looking soldiers on foot are standing in a cluster. Around them, a quartet of cavaliers and a Paladin (based on his ornate shield) circle in a distinctly predatory fashion. Nudging Ignition down, Salvador comes in for a landing. This looks like a more organized attempt to regain control of a routing army army, which means they'll have more information on what in the demon-ridden void happened!
"-you're all lucky that the plan for the moment isn't to string the lot of you up for cowardice!" the paladin yells as Salvador approaches, his silver sword waving around like a baton as he rides back and forwards in front of the corralled cluster of infantry. "But if you don't get marching back to camp right this instant, that can quickly change! And Emperor help any man who threw away his weapons!" The soldiers, who outnumbered the group of noble cavaliers at least six to one and several who clearly have no weapons in hand, look at each other warily as their stances tense. "Did I stutter, maggots?!" the cavalier roars, raising his sword high. "Get! MOVING!"
Salvador frowns. While every soldier who turned their back in the face of the enemy without orders was arguably deserting and certainly not living up to the expectations of the Imperial Army, good commanders recognize the needs of practicality, especially when entire armies were on the line! "Hold!" he calls, landing Ignition between the paladin and the band of soldiers before things can get ugly.
The paladin glares at him. "Who are you?!" he snaps. "How dare-" Silently, Salvador draws the Fell Slayer, allowing the fire magic within to burn bright as he holds it up like a torch. Even as the sound of gasps and armored knees hitting the ground behind him reaches his ears, the Wyrmguard keeps his sharp gaze upon the paladin in front of him.
If he takes some pleasure in the way the irritating man's face goes pale, well, Salvador is only human.
"M-my lord Blade…" the man says, lowering his own sword and bowing in his saddle. "I-I-"
Salvador lets the stuttering continue for a long few seconds before he gestures with the Fell Slayer, causing flickers of fire flash into the air. This shuts the man up instantly. "What is your name?" he asks coolly.
Swallowing, the paladin sits up in his saddle as straight as he can manage. "I am Sir Mordred, Champion of Count Keylik of the Duskline," he says. "I was sent to restore discipline to the soldiers who fled the battle. W-what brings you here, my lord Blade?"
Salvador lowers the Fell Slayer a bit, though the fire still burns around it. "I am Sir Salvador Wyrmguard, Blade of the Emperor. I bear Emperor Theodore Wyrmblood the Third's Sword and speak with his Voice. Will you listen?" Everyone nods with almost indecent haste. "Good. Our Emperor sent me here with a vital task," Salvador continues. "To this end, I am traveling to link up with the Army of the Northlands." He then makes a show of looking around. "It seems that something has gone… quite wrong. Would you care to explain, Sir Mordred?" He knows that the disaster he suspects probably isn't Sir Mordred's fault, but instilling a little bit of the same fear the paladin had been putting into his subordinates onto him might calm him down in future.
The paladin pales, but nods bravely and starts giving his report with as much dignity and clarity as he could while still watching the Fell Slayer warily. On most of the main points, he agrees with the various reports of the retreating soldiers Salvador had already spoken to. However he is able to give some more details about what was damaged and destroyed during the battle.
By the end of the description of last night's events, it's clear that while it the Kingdoms had launched a major and well-planned raid, they had not managed to send the entire Imperial army to fight at the Sentinel's Wall. Instead, they'd seemed focused on sowing chaos and causing mass destruction of resources. True, the casualties for the Northlands army were heavy at best, disastrous at worst, but with the number of light cavalry the Agrithians had apparently brought to the battle the fact that anyone had escaped was a miracle. Once they'd left, Duke-General Wellingford had then worked quickly to re-establish order in the camp, though the situation was still dire.
Then there was problem of the the lightning-spewing dragon. Though nobody referred to her by name, Salvador was all but certain it was in fact Ryza Levinheart who had caused the most visible damage, if not necessarily the most. Which was good since it meant that Salvador was in the right place and hopefully could complete his mission relatively quickly. If only she hadn't revealed her presence by raising the bloody void amidst one of the main Imperial army formations in the area and wreaking spirits only knew how much destruction!
Once Sir Mordred finished explaining the situation, Salvador nods. "It is good that you are rallying the army," he says. "I will proceed to the camp and speak with Duke-General Wellingford. These soldiers are to be sent back as well. The Empire cannot afford to lose any more of our warriors than we already have." He narrows his eyes slightly. "Do I make myself clear?"
Sir Mordred grimaces, but bows. "Yes, my lord Blade," he says, waving his escorting cavaliers away from the cluster of men, who slowly relax. "Get back to camp, all of you!"
Turning in Ignition's saddle, Salvador watches as the common soldiers' discipline reasserts itself. Bows and murmurs of "Yes sir," and "Yes my lord Blade," echo around the group as they gather up whatever weapons and equipment they'd managed to run away with and begin trooping their way in the direction of the camp in a reasonable facsimile of a proper marching column, considering the circumstances. A few even stepped out of the line to take up the role of officers.
"Continue searching for survivors," Salvador commands Sir Mordred. "I've sent those I've found on my way here to rally at a small town over in that direction, but there are likely others around." He narrows his eyes slightly. "Might I… recommend, a more tactful approach in future? We cannot afford to be fighting each other in this moment of crisis."
The paladin grimaces again, but takes the "suggestion" for what it truly is. "Yes, my lord Blade," he says. "I will see it done." Rallying his cavaliers with a whistle and a gesture, he turns and rides westwards.
Taking a long, slow breath, aware of the the eyes still upon him, Salvador finally puts away the Fell Slayer and takes off again, flying towards the camp with all speed now that he now knows it still exists. Soon, he sees pillars of black smoke rising into the morning sky. "We're almost there, friend," he says to Ignition. "Let's see how bad it truly is."
Sweeping in for a landing, the answer quickly becomes apparent: very bad. Nearly the entire eastern half of the camp is nothing but ash and embers, with plenty of fire and destruction on the western half as well. All the blazes the Kingdom soldiers had set seemed to have been put out at least, though there are still several large funeral pyres burning around the edges of the camp. Soldiers pick among the ruins, looking for survivors, bodies, and any supplies that might have survived the catastrophe. As best Salvador can see from so high, the men vary between being fearful and in utter shock. He grimaces, morale has got to be nearly rock bottom down there.
Fixing this mess, while not his mission, is going to be a grueling quest in and of itself.
As the pair fly over, Salvador spots countless eyes turning to look up at him. There are a few cries of concern, but thankfully the nervous soldiers seem to quickly realize that Ignition is a friendly wyvern rather than an aggressive dragon. Coming in for a landing, Salvador notes that no air patrols are around to challenge or escort him. It seems that the rumors that the wyvern force of this army was all but annihilated are true.
However, as he sets down in a rapidly-cleared section of the central camp, there are a few soldiers in the fancy armor of trusted noble retainers that hurry over to greet him, so things haven't completely devolved into chaos yet. "Sir!" the leader says, giving a respectful nod. "You don't look like one of our lost wyverns, who-" she pauses as she gets a better look at him, clearly recognizing the size of Ignition and the ornateness of Salvador's armor. "Pardon me, my lord!" she says, bowing more deeply.
"My name is Sir Salvador of the Wyrmguard," Salvador says as he dismounts, drawing and planting the Fell Slayer in front of him, though he doesn't feel the need to ignite the flames to make his point. "My master the Emperor sent me here on a vital mission. I must speak to Duke-General Wellingford as soon as possible."
The woman gasps, covering her mouth. "Blade… My lord Blade!" she says. "Y-yes, of course!" Turning, she gestures to her subordinates. "Find some provisions for the Lord Blade's wyvern!" she orders.
The two men look at each other. "That… might be difficult, Gwenlynn," one of them says warily. "With how much was destroyed-"
Gwenlynn throws a panicked look at Salvador. "There has to be something!" she hisses to her men. "Find something!" She grimaces as she looks back at Salvador while the others scamper away. "My apologies, my lord Blade, we are… less prepared for the arrival of someone of your status than we would have wished…"
Waving a hand, Salvador forces himself not to give the nearly hyperventilating young woman a reassuring smile; he has to maintain discipline and decorum. "Fear not, Dame Gwenlynn," he says. "I have heard of the troubles this army has had, and you did not know to expect me. While Ignition will appreciate the food, for the moment the most important thing is that I speak to the Duke-General."
A faint whine from Ignition tells Salvador what his mount thinks about that comment. Reaching back, he runs a comforting hand along his friend's snout, quieting him.
"Y-yes, of course," Gwenlynn says. "This way, my lord Blade." Turning, she quickly hurries towards the big central tent with the banner bearing the Northlands Duchy flying from it. Salvador falls in beside her, keeping his chin tipped up and not letting any sign of concern about the state of affairs reach his face, especially as nearby soldiers start whispering and pointing as they recognize just how important the newcomer is. These people need the sort of unflappable confidence that he has learned to exude, and he will give it to them.
As they walk, Dame Gwenlynn glances around before lowering her voice. "Emblem, it is good to see you, Lord Blade," she says. "We have… not had a good night."
"So I have heard," Salvador says diplomatically.
She swallows. "My lord Blade… as you were approaching, did you happen to see any wyverns with injured riders?" she asks. "My… my brother, Orion… he was posted in the main camp area, and he got hit by that brute of a dragon… I saw Hunter flying away with him in her claws, but I couldn't see… we've gotten a few wyverns back, but he wasn't among them and none of them or their riders were in good shape…"
Salvador shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Dame Gwenlynn," he says quietly. "I did not see any other wyverns out there. Just foot soldiers and a few cavalry."
She wilts, but nods. "I hope he's okay…" she says softly. "It's just… damn that dragon. Damn that Fell-sworn monster!" Salvador remains silent as she takes several deep breaths, regathering herself. "I'm sorry, my lord Blade, I should not burden you with my troubles."
"The troubles of all the Emperor's people are his troubles," Salvador says, quoting Thaddeus. "And the Emperor's troubles are the Blade's troubles."
Gwenlynn gives a shaky nod, but before she can say anything else the pair arrive at the central tent. A pair of armored guards stand outside, but they cannot guard against escaping noise. From within, Salvador can hear the raised voices of a meeting that was going very, very badly for all involved, something that is surely decreasing the morale of the soldiers shuffling around the area even further. "Sir Salvador Wyrmguard, Blade of the Emperor, to see His Grace," Gwenlynn says formally to the guards.
Both men immediately bow. "Of course," one says, pulling the flap of the tent aside, his helmet turning to look at the sword in Salvador's hand, his stance tired but with a faint glimmer of hope that hadn't been there a second before. Technically, letting Salvador in without announcing him was a breach of protocol, but from the shouting it was clear that it would take many minutes to get to the Duke and convince him that Salvador was there. Salvador decides that, in these stressful times, some decorum can be set aside in favor of getting down to business.
"Thank you," he says, ducking into the command tent.
"-lost half the fucking army!" someone was shouting. With the scrum of armored people crowded on the carpet in the center of the open space, many of whom still had the dirt and grime of last night's catastrophe clearly visible, Salvador couldn't even tell who'd said it. This was especially true when everyone else started either denouncing the man as a coward or proclaiming him the only sane person in the tent.
"We'll get most of it back, we already have patrols out rallying them!" another angry voice shoots back. "And when we do, we must go smash those fucking rebel scum and their Fell-sworn beast! This dishonor cannot stand!"
"With what supplies!?" a third voice shrieks over the chorus of agreements and disagreements. "We barely have enough water to survive the day, let alone to carry us onwards! And don't even get me started on the food shortages! I've heard back from my contingents, and I can tell you if we don't start sending out foraging parties immediately, what we don't lose to starvation and dehydration we'll lose to desertion within a week! If not sooner!"
The shouting continues, getting even less productive and more angry, but just as Salvador is about to draw the Fell Slayer and shoot some fire into the air, a massive voice roars from the other side of the blue-blooded mob.
"SILENCE!"
It takes several seconds, but finally the crowd goes from the sort of screaming matches that usually mean death duels are imminent to a mutinous quiet. As arms lower, Salvador finally catches sight of Duke-General Wellingford. A tall, broad-shouldered man with short black hair, the defining feature of his wide yet clean-shaven face is a long burn-scar from one ear, over his nose, and to the other corner of his mouth. He's an imposing figure as he glares around his various nobles, lieutenants and hangers-on for several seconds from his position on a throne set up at the head of the tent. Once he's certain none will defy him by restarting the argument, he turns towards Salvador. "We have a newcomer," he says darkly. "Step forward and report."
Silently, Salvador pushes through the crowd, the Fell Slayer sliding out of its sheath. Hushed gasps and whispers follow him as the scrum parts like water before a ship, finally allowing Salvador to plant the sword point-down, both hands folded upon its pommel as fire begins to wind from the dragonstones down the blade. "Duke-General Arthen Wellingford, I am Sir Salvador Wyrmguard, Blade of the Emperor," he says formally. "I bear Emperor Theodore Wyrmblood the Third's Sword and speak with his Voice. Will you listen?
The Duke quickly suppresses the slight flicker of surprise and nods. "Ay, lord Blade, I will listen," he says. "I would say your timing was impeccable, had you come but a day earlier!"
Salvador meets the man's eyes coolly as mutters fill the tent. "I go where my Emperor commands, Your Grace, when my Emperor commands," he says. "My mission was not to reinforce you, as you and your army were trusted to see to the Empire's needs here."
More murmurs fill the tent for a few seconds before Wellingford waves his hand at the crowd, a grim look crossing his face. "You do speak truth, Lord Blade," he says grudgingly. "What quest has our Emperor sent you here to complete?"
Nodding, Salvador softens his stance a touch. Anger has not clouded the duke's mind such that he forgets who he speaks to. "My mission is to seek out the dragon known as Ryza Levinheart, on the express orders of Emperor Theodore," he says. He briefly considers using the proper term for the young mage, but decides against it. Even without the events of last night, he doubts these soldiers would care what the girl called herself. ??? DC 15 +5-5=15 (17, 15, 4)
Surprisingly, the response to Salvador's declaration was… somewhat mixed. He'd expected the scoffs, snarls, glares and hisses of anger that made up the majority's reaction. What he didn't expect was the small number of murmurs and awkward glances. The Wyvern Lord especially notices one of the younger men, the winged helmet of a wyvern rider under one arm and a mop of silky golden hair, frowning thoughtfully as his hand traces towards a pouch at his side, one that has a corner of parchment sticking out of it.
Most of the Blade of the Emperor's attention, however, remains on Wellingford as his frown shifts into a cold smirk. "Well, if you hunt dragons, Lord Blade," he says. "You've come to the right place. While we do not have the mobile forces to carry out full reconnaissance in the face of enemy counter-reconnaissance, the beast likely returned to the rebel camp across the border, or perhaps to Castle Starhelm." He grits his teeth. "Would that we could assist you in your mission, but this army is not in position to launch an immediate offensive."
Salvador waves a hand. "That should not be necessary," he says. "And from what I have seen and heard, it seems to me that this army would do best in falling back and leaving the Meridiem force to take the fore, while it remains an army in truth rather than just in name."
That draws an immediate outburst. So many voices start shouting that Salvador could not even begin to follow them all. Thankfully, he does not have to. The Fell Slayer roars in his hand, fire swirling around his body and causing the nearest men to instinctively stumble away from him.
"I am the Blade of the Emperor," Salvador says, his voice like thunder as he draws upon the power held in the sword, and through it the will of every man and woman who'd carried it before him in service to the line of Wyrmblood. "I bear Emperor Theodore the Third's Sword and speak with his Voice. You. Will. Listen." He waits several long seconds for the echos to die down, before letting the fires of the First Emperor's Sword fade away in turn. "I have seen many armies over my long service to the Empire and the Emperor. Few have taken as devastating a blow as this one has and remained cohesive. The fact that this force did not shatter into a dozen roving bands of hungry survivors is a complement to the skill and discipline of every person in this tent, as well as the soldiers serving outside." Best to throw them some bone to keep them from rioting. "But to try and force an army this damaged into battle is not bravery, it is foolishness."
The duke stands, stalking down from his throne and moving to loom over Salvador, the Elysian Seal mounted on his right pauldron blazing with its master's emotions. "My orders as a General of the Empire, from both Grandmaster Gunther and Regent Justinian themselves, are to prepare this army to strike against the rebel states as well as their hidden masters, to avenge our Emperor," he says icily.
"That is true," Salvador says, not intimidated by the other man's greater size. He is the Blade of the Emperor. He will not be pushed around, not even by a Duke. He has only one master. "But as Blade of the Empire, I am permitted to wield the Emperor's role as Supreme Commander of all the Empire's Armies in his stead, and I am old and experienced enough to know when I need to invoke that authority! Thus, I am rescinding that order. Events have changed, and we do not have the time or manpower to send a message back to the Council asking for clarification." The duke's eyes narrow further, but Salvador meets the bigger man's gaze firmly. "By accepting the title of Duke-General and taking command of an Imperial Army rather than just your own forces, you accept oversight. I will not allow you to sacrifice this army and the soldiers in it on the pyre of pride, no matter what Grandmaster Gunther's said."
The two Wyvern Lords stare each other down for several long seconds before the duke makes a chopping gesture. "Leave us, all of you," he growls. Out of the corner of his eyes, Salvador sees some of the nobles looking between their duke and himself. The Blade nods, it is a fair request, and even if it wasn't, having this sort of argument in front of an audience would be bad for the already shaky morale of this army.
The two men hold each other's gaze as the various hangers-on shuffle out of the tent. Just as Salvador thinks they've all left, Wellingford looked over his shoulder, his simmering anger momentarily dulling to mere frustration. "Leave, Godric."
Glancing back, Salvador realizes that the young blonde wyvern rider he'd spotted was standing just inside the tent, hesitating. "Father, please…" the young man starts to say, only to trail off as his father makes another sharp gesture. "Yes, Your Grace," the young man finishes stiffly, stepping out of the tent and letting the flap close behind him.
Wellingford sighs. "Precocious heirs are a blessing and a curse," he grumbles as he walks to a table along the side of the tent and pours himself a goblet of wine before offering another goblet towards Salvador. "I know there won't be an indolent upon my throne when I'm gone, so long as the boy can survive that long." The Blade accepts the goblet and allows the duke to pour him some wine as well, giving a small toast. Not only is his throat dry from his long flight, but best to try and form some sort of rapport with the man he was currently forcing to make a smart but unpopular decision. He even lets the fire fade from the Fell Slayer's blade and puts the weapon back in its sheath. Grandstanding is expected for crowds, but for one man it's simply gauche.
Unless it turns out to be necessary.
After a few seconds of the two Wyvern Lords simply drinking in silence, the duke finally sighs. "I know what you're going to say," he says. "And damnit, I know you're right, Lord Blade. But my people are angry. They just watched their friends and comrades slaughtered by a nightmare of our darkest legend, aided by fools and rebels who either are too stupid to recognize the horror they treat with, so mad as not to care, or both. A retribution of blood is demanded."
"I understand your anger and your pain, Duke Wellingford," Salvador says quietly, thinking back to that night upon the highest tower of Wyrmrise. "Truly, I do. But this is not just your army, but your people."
"Ay, that's the rub, isn't it?" Wellingford says. "As a General of the Empire, my duty is to prosecute the Empire's wars, to defeat her enemies, and to bring her glory and victory. As Duke, my duty is to protect my people. However, how can I claim to protect them if I let that monster lurk across the border, mocking us as it revels in the suffering it inflicted?"
Frowning slightly, Salvador sets down the glass. "Emperor Theodore has given me orders to deal with Ryza Levinheart," he says. "For now, your focus should be your role as Duke. Void, even as General, preserving this army is of vital importance. A routed army can recover and seize victory at a later date. An annihilated army cannot."
The other man gives him a strange look out of the corner of his eye and is silent for several long seconds. Finally, however, he lets out another grumbling sigh. "If you have made your decision, Lord Blade, then it is will will be," he says. "I can either agree, or argue and force you to overrule me, as is your legal right in this case. Neither option is palatable to me, you understand that, don't you?" Salvador nods silently. "But… I suppose in the end, one is slightly more palatable. Very well, we shall fall back to my castle for now. While there are not enough surplus supplies for offensive maneuvers, at least we won't starve while we reconstitute." He growls. "It will take some time, but the army of the Northlands will have our revenge."
"Do not rush," Salvador says firmly. "The Meridiem army will be able to hold the line. Focus on your army's recovery, I'd rather there be two Imperial armies in six weeks than one and a rabble of hungry, thirsty, weaponless soldiers in one." Wellingford narrows his eyes, but nods. "Thank you, your Grace."
"Thank me by bringing me that damn dragon's head, Lord Blade" the duke says as he pours himself another cup of wine. "I'm sure you'll have to cart it off to Wyrmrise afterwards to be properly displayed, but I want a chance to spit on it first." He drains the liquid, giving Salvador a chance to grimace. He'd expected anger and aggression, but this level of hate… while understandable, it will make things potentially more complicated going forwards.
Thankfully, he's able to smooth his face back to neutral before Wellingford looks back at him. "So, what can I do to help your quest?" he asks in a faux cheerful voice. "I would offer to fly on your wing, as Lord Mycelus did for the First Emperor, but I'll need to stay to keep the army together. Besides, with the Whitewings having stolen the Galeforce, it just wouldn't be the same image."
Salvador nods. "I will need to touch base with the Meridiem army to let them know they will need to stand down from their posturing towards the Divine Realm and move to guard against the Kingdoms," he says. "So I will be able to get the food Ignition needs there. However, a better map of the local terrain will be useful, so next time I am not arriving a day late, as you say."
The duke lets out a bark of grim laughter. "Very well," he says. "Speak to whoever escorted you over, they'll get you what you need." Salvador inclines his head, and after a moment Wellingford does the same. "Just… just promise me that monster dies, Lord Blade."
Picking his words carefully, Salvador speaks. "Nothing can ever be guaranteed in war, but if my Emperor's plan succeeds, there will be no further threat of draconic attacks." With that, he turns and leaves the tent.
As he steps out, standing aside to let the mass of nobles and lieutenants pour back in to continue their knock-down brawl of a meeting, he's surprise when the Duke's son approaches him. "Is there anything that the Northlands Duchy can do to aid your mission, my lord Blade?" the boy asks formally.
Salvador considers for a long moment before nodding. "Your lord father promised me a map," he says. "So that I will be able to find my way more swiftly around the Northlands. You wouldn't happen to know where one is, would you?"
Godric immediately nods. "I do, Lord Blade," he says. "By your leave?"
"If it is acceptable to you, I would walk with you, young lord," Salvador says. "I do have some questions about the happenings up here, ones that will help me on my mission." The younger rider frowns, but nods. "Excellent." Resisting the urge to hurry the boy along before anyone can interfere, Salvador walks with him as they head away from the central tent and deeper into the maze of living spaces.
As they march, Salvador considers how to bring his question up before deciding to probe the air current again to make sure he hadn't misread the young man. "You remember what my mission is, do you not?" he asks.
Once again, there is a slight hesitation on Godric's part. "You're here to… hunt the dragon that attacked us, aren't you?" he asks, an edge to his voice. Not of anger, not his father's rage or hate. More… concern? Confusion, but not at Salvador's mission.
More at his own reaction to it.
"In a manner of speaking," Salvador says. "It strikes me, however, that you have seen more of her than I. What are your thoughts on the dragon?"
The boy cocks his head as he looks at Salvador. "Lord Blade?" he asks. "Surely Father would be a better person to ask? I wasn't present for most of the battle, having been leading the southern anti-raiding cordon until I heard the sounds of trouble and came to investigate." He grimaces. "Not that I would have been able to help much, seeing what happened to the other wyvern riders…"
"Perhaps he would be," Salvador says. "But he is busy now, and you are here." Godric hesitates, glancing around with an air of nerves, causing the Emperor's blade to lower his voice slightly. "There is no answer I am looking for save the truth, and that truth will not be used against you. I do, however, expect an answer." The boy has to learn to keep his emotions from hobbling him, especially so obviously.
Finally, the young wyvern rider looks up at Salvador. "I… I just can't help but think if she wanted to do more damage, she could have," he says quietly. "I know everyone's angry and scared right now, and Father and most of the other leaders lose no opportunity to remind everyone of the amount of damage she did and how many people died in this whole spirits-dammed mess… but honestly, she could have done so much worse."
Salvador nods. "You refer to her as her," he says. "Why?"
The boy's hand flashes to his pouch again. "Ah, y-you did…" he says weakly. Salvador just gives him a dry look, causing Godric to wilt. He also has to learn to either not lie or become a better liar. Probably both. "Sorry, my lord Blade," he says. "Just… please, please don't tell my father."
"So long as they are not a danger to anyone, I give my word to keep your secrets," Salvador says.
Nodding, Godric still takes a moment to continue. "Well, when I was younger, I squired in the Heartland, not far from the Marble Hall," he says. "While I was there, my mentor would sometimes visit the Hall on business, and he brought me along. And… well, there's this girl…"
Despite the seriousness of the situation, it took some effort for Salvador not to smile. How many of the most memorable and amusing stories, even some from his own youth, started with those words? "A mage?" he asks.
"Yes," Godric says. "I never told Father about her because I know he'd never approve. She's too soft for him, not of an equivalent station to myself… a Revisionist." He smiles weakly. "Still… we do share letters, and she recently sent met a functional novel about Ryza! The mana- dragon…"
"I know the term," Salvador says. "So, I'm assuming you know some of the things Ryza says about herself, but you've also seen what she's capable of. Your thoughts?"
Godric hummed thoughtfully. "I mean… she's an enemy, or at least working with them," he says. "And Emblem is she destructive when she puts her mind to it… but at the same time, that just reinforces how much worse she could have been. If nothing else, she's a whole lot smarter than the old stories would have us believe." He shrugs weakly. "But I wasn't here for the fight. I wasn't in the thick of it. People who were… they're scared. Maybe eventually some of them will be able to think about last night logically… but that's going to take time, even with the fact that she shouted at everyone to go away."
Cocking his head, Salvador's frown deepens. "What?"
"Right as she was leaving, she turned and yelled at us. She ordered us to all go away, said something about them wanting to live free and not be invaded or have their children attacked or something like that. A few people I saw seemed like they were listening, but mostly everyone was still running around like chickens with their heads cut off, trying to put out fires." As Salvador ponders that revelation, Godric looks at Salvador. "My lord Blade… Are… are you going to kill her?"
After a few seconds, the Wyvern Lord spoke. "If that is the only way to protect my lord and the Empire… then I will do what I must." The Fell Slayer at his hip seemed to flare with his words. The younger wyvern rider nods slowly and does not press further.
As the pair continues to walk in silence, Salvador wishes that he had a clearer idea of what exactly to do next. He's read the Revisionists' stories… but all around him, he can see and smell the smoke and fire of her wrath. Ryza had clearly picked a side in this war, and that side was against the Empire. However, she was also claiming the moral high ground of the defender, which could either be true or a way of trying to manipulate opinion…
The more Salvador learned about Ryza, the more strange this whole situation became. She was clearly intelligent, which not only flew in the face of most of the old stories about dragons but also meant that it was possible her motives and maneuvers could be predicted. She surely recognized that the Empire represents a clear and present threat to her, thus it only makes sense that she would try to find allies to protect herself. Her actions were reasonable, logical… and thus, it was possible that she could be reasoned with. Convinced that standing down would be safer for her, that she could lean on the protections of a mage of the Marble Hall to act as a shield.
As Godric gave him a detailed map (drawn by his own hand, apparently), Salvador made up his mind. His Emperor's mission could still be accomplished, despite this… snag that Ryza had thrown into his path. It would take some time to go to the Meridiem army and bring them up to speed to make sure they didn't start another war.
Lifting off, the Blade of the Emperor cannot help but wonder what the manakete was plotting now, what thoughts and schemes danced through her millennium-old mind…
You grumble slightly as you wake up to feel Actaeon still shifting beneath you as he walks. If Artemis wasn't holding you, you'd probably fall off!
After de-transforming last night, you'd nearly fallen to your knees, panting. Not since your Awakening had you spent so long in dragon form, and that had been different. This had been nearly non-stop fighting from start to finish! Could anyone really blame you for falling asleep just as soon as you'd managed to clamber up in front of Artemis so you didn't get left behind!?
"'rewebckyt?" you ask as you push your hood out of your eyes, looking up at Artemis and blinking against the early-morning sun as it glares at you far more brightly than it has any right to.
"Almost," your friend says. "We should reach the camp in another twenty or so minutes." She frowns worriedly as she looks down on you. "Are you alright? That… seemed like it was hard on you."
You consider your answer as you lean back against her. "I think so," you say. "Just tired. I don't do well when I don't get enough sleep."
A faint giggle from next to you causes you to turn to see Belle seemed to have managed to convince Lancel to let her ride with him. "Well, hopefully you'll be able to take a nice long nap when we get to the camp," she says, pressing herself against the yeoman's back (and was it just a weird light, or did he flush slightly)? Looking the other way, you spot Axton and Kelton, and all around you you can hear the sounds of the moving Kingdom army.
"Did everyone make it out alright?" you ask.
"There were casualties and wounded," Artemis says. "But thanks to your efforts, far fewer than there would have been if we'd tried to do a comparable amount of damage without your help." She ruffles your hair. "Don't worry, Belle is right. Even though we won, we'll still have to take some time to rest and recuperate ourselves. That means that you'll have a few days at least to recover, maybe more."
As you settle back into Artemis's embrace as she continues riding with the victorious army back towards the camp, you allow yourself to consider what you'll do with your few days at least of relative free time.
What do you do (choose 3, please vote by plan).
[] Just rest and recover. That was a stressful night, and you want to make sure you're fully prepared for anything that might come up.
[] Spend some time reading The Dragon Within and getting to know your dragon-self better. While this long-term transformation went relatively well, perhaps you can learn more to make next time go better.
[] Spend some time with your various friends, making sure everyone's okay. (Choose 2)
-[] Artemis and Phoebe
-[] Kelton and Belle
-[] Axton and Lancel
-[] Angela and the Whitewings
-[] Melissa and Sister Selinda
-[] Elena
-[] Lord Alejandro
-[] Princess Alina
[] Write some letters to some of your other friends who aren't around, letting them know what's going on. You have no idea how you'd get them delivered, especially some of the people who come to mind, but maybe something could be sorted out? Even if it can't, just writing them might give you some insight. (Choose 2)
-[] Archduke Letoro and Dione Cartese
-[] Countess Mantrae and Sypha
-[] James and Siri
-[] Archmage Stormspeaker (difficult to deliver)
-[] Lacroix Skyfire (very difficult to deliver)
[] Spend some time with the people you don't know as well: Count Sobieski and Sir Rimpler, as well as more ordinary soldiers. Maybe you'll just soothe nerves that might be fraying slightly at some of your more over-the-top acts, and maybe you'll even meet new friends!
[] Spend some time studying magic. You won't have the time to schedule out what exactly to practice, but you'll pick up something useful.
-[] Continue learning Yellow Magic
-[] Continue learning White Magic
-[] Continue learning Red Magic
-[] Continue studying Runewrighting.
-[] Begin learning Green Magic
-[] Begin learning Black Magic
-[] Begin practicing rituals for the colors of magic you know (Yellow, White and Red.)
[] Spend some time learning about the culture/history of the Northern Kingdoms and Divine Realm, since you might be here a while.
[] Write-in (Subject to Veto)
AN: This is probably the strangest mainline chapter I've written since it's the only one where there's more of other characters POV than Ryza. I'd originally meant it to be more even, but most of Ryza and the Agrithian's side of the aftermath will come from the vote so I suppose it makes sense.
However, it seems she knows you well, as she clings on more tightly. "Ryza, Ryza stop and think!" she says, a note of what your heart-self identifies as franticness entering her voice. "You're still injured-"
It's nice to see friends be concerned over Dragon-Ryza's singlemindedness. And that was a deft handling of it by all involved. Wordplay and rules lawyering for the win.
"With what supplies!" a third voice shrieks over the chorus of agreements and disagreements. "We barely have enough water to survive the day, let alone to carry us onwards! And don't even get me started on the food shortages! I've heard back from my contingents, and I can tell you if we don't start send out foraging parties immediately, what we don't lose to starvation and dehydration we'll lose to desertion within a week! If not sooner!"
"I will need to touch base with the Meridiem army to let them know they will need to stand down from their posturing towards the Divine Realm and move to guard against the Kingdoms," he says.
Finally, the young wyvern rider looks up at Salvador. "I… I just can't help but think if she wanted to do more damage, she could have," he says quietly.
Ooooh, we got an heir with an open mind. He's being quiet and subtle about it to maintain his standing of course, but that's definitely a good thing overall.
and thus, it was possible that she could be reasoned with. Convinced that standing down would be safer for her, that she could lean on the protections of a mage of the Marble Hall to act as a shield.
Runes and White always tempt me; we've got Bolting and I don't know what else is gonna be farther down the Yellow line (but something tells me we could find out). Getting started in Black or Green bear varying challenges. I also very much want to reach back to everybody we _haven't_ made significant contact with to smooth concerns now that we've gone Full Dragon. Rituals is a new one, and that's got me curious about what could be in there.
[ ] Plan Rest and Public Relations
-[ ] Just rest and recover. That was a stressful night, and you want to make sure you're fully prepared for anything that might come up.
-[ ] Spend some time with the people you don't know as well: Count Sobieski and Sir Rimpler, as well as more ordinary soldiers. Maybe you'll just soothe nerves that might be fraying slightly at some of your more over-the-top acts, and maybe you'll even meet new friends!
-[ ] Spend some time with your various friends, making sure everyone's okay. (Choose 2)
--[ ] Princess Alina
--[ ] Lord Alejandro
We pulled a big performance as a 'dragon', so I want to first rest up and get Ryza back on an even keel. Afterwards I want to work on Ryza's reputation amongst people we don't already know and get them used to her. And then after that, talk to two of the bigger names/nobles that we're not as close to yet.
Hearts and minds at all levels of the societal hierarchy will be beneficial for us.
I'm not doing any training for the same reason I want to rest. Let Ryza unwind and relax, be a person and enjoy life and socialize and all that good stuff. Being in a war shouldn't be an excuse to go full hermit terminator.
[X] Plan Rest and Public Relations
-[X] Just rest and recover. That was a stressful night, and you want to make sure you're fully prepared for anything that might come up.
-[X] Spend some time with the people you don't know as well: Count Sobieski and Sir Rimpler, as well as more ordinary soldiers. Maybe you'll just soothe nerves that might be fraying slightly at some of your more over-the-top acts, and maybe you'll even meet new friends!
-[X] Spend some time with your various friends, making sure everyone's okay. (Choose 2)
--[X] Princess Alina
--[X] Lord Alejandro
We pulled a big performance as a 'dragon', so I want to first rest up and get Ryza back on an even keel. Afterwards I want to work on Ryza's reputation amongst people we don't already know and get them used to her. And then after that, talk to two of the bigger names/nobles that we're not as close to yet.
Hearts and minds at all levels of the societal hierarchy will be beneficial for us.
I'm not doing any training for the same reason I want to rest. Let Ryza unwind and relax, be a person and enjoy life and socialize and all that good stuff. Being in a war shouldn't be an excuse to go full hermit terminator.
I don't disagree. Especially Rignali. He's fun and I'm sure he'll be fun to write. However, in light of the closing of this battle and the big huge wads of plot... @SoaringHawk218Could we get a 24h voting moratorium for discussion and dialogue?
So, the propaganda engine is running, and the Duke is an agent of the Regent, but on the other hand, the fact we didn't kill him means that his heir--who's open minded--didn't swear vengeance on us and actually gave Salvadore a reasonably objective story instead of the spin-doctored one where all the fatalities brought on by restoring order were pinned to her. Which is good and bad. Good in the sense he's not immediately going to resort to violence since we've established that Ryza is intelligent and is taking reasonable steps to ensure her own survival against an Extremely hostile world, bad in the sense that he's exposed himself as an Enemy of the Conspiracy for sure (By overriding their man on the ground) and if they can just kill him via laser ninja they will. Especially if they can do it during negotiations.
I don't disagree. Especially Rignali. He's fun and I'm sure he'll be fun to write. However, in light of the closing of this battle and the big huge wads of plot... @SoaringHawk218Could we get a 24h voting moratorium for discussion and dialogue?
Alright, hopefully it worked. I stopped using them a while ago since they kept messing up the tallies, but hopefully it won't be a problem this time...
@Axel Fones Added a moratorium, so you'll have to re-post your vote when it's over.
Regardless of everything else, oooh-hoo-hoo boy, look what we found!
It's no seal, but scoring an A-rank weapon with what is consistently one of the best effects for pure damage will be monstrous for whoever we give it to.
Even if it ends up becoming a Belle-exclusive weapon, that woman is definitely still quadding everything she goes up against, and that thing's base damage will make sure it hurts like nothing else.
First Blade is actually a pretty interesting character, especially as a major dedicated Adversary (that we know of).
Ryzas intelligence is going to throw a lot of people for a loop, and start raising some very uncomfortable questions.
Imperial Army needs time to rebuild, and a front has been temporally made for a Potental Divine Realm force, that is if they can take advantage of an estimated 6 week window before a new Imperial Army is rebuilt.
How likely is it Lenora Thundercrier used our mothers dragonstone? (We have our fathers, I'm not sure if our mothers has been accounted for.)
