A Disgraced House Rises Again

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Elithmar
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A Disgraced House Rises Again

#1 Post by Elithmar »

A Chance To Win Glory

The ship rocked gently from side to side on the waves as Arnarion leant on the railings, staring at the ocean below him. He had never been to Elthin-Arvan before but, as Aethis had told him on many occasions, his father had often campaigned there so strangely it felt like going home.

As he watched the tumultuous blue behemoth, Arnarion’s hand drifted to the hilt of the sword at his side. He had been presented with Imrellar only days beforehand, yet already it had become like an old friend to him. Throughout his whole life up to that point, he had been looking forward to the day when he would finally be old enough to become prince. That day had come on his one hundredth birthday. There had been a magnificent ceremony to present him with Imrellar, the enchanted blade which had been the symbol of the princes of his house since Kordranar had been appointed to the position by Aenarion himself. Arnarion had enjoyed it, but in all honesty he preferred his own company to that of others and so he had slipped away as soon as possible.

Arnarion was dragged back out of his thoughts when he heard two soldiers talking as they walked past him. From what they were saying, they clearly didn’t realise who he was – he preferred not to dress too differently from the ordinary soldiers – because one was saying,

“If Arnarion is anything like his father, I hope you like being on the losing side in battles. Yes, all we’ll have to look forward to is getting our toes frozen off as he leads us through ridiculously bad weather and being harried by enemies as we retreat from one loss to the next.”

The speaker’s friend burst into laughter. Then he said,

“Well I just hope he’s not like his father then, or else I’ll be sneaking back to Ulthuan as soon as I can.”

They walked away, so Arnarion could hear no more of their conversation. What he had heard, though, was exactly the reason he had planned the campaign to Elthin-Arvan. Although Aethis had always tried to portray him in a good light, Arnarion knew that his father had not been very successful on the battlefield and that he was not the most popular prince on Ulthuan either. That was why he initiated the expedition – to win glory, for his house, which would blot out the failings of his predecessor.

He had trained with sword and bow, and on horseback, for decades; he had read countless books on tactics; and he had studied the campaigns of other Asur generals, past and present, in minute detail. All of this he did in preparation for this campaign and any subsequent ones. Now he was finally ready to show everyone else that the phrase ‘like father, like son’ did not apply to him.

A cry of “land!” made him jolt his head up so that he could see the jagged coastline of Elthin-Arvan far in the distance. They were getting closer by the minute though. This was it.
"I say the Eatainii were cheating - again." -Aicanor
"Eatainian jerks…" -Headshot
"It was a little ungentlemanly." -Aicanor (on the Eatainii)
"What is it with Eataini being blamed for everything?" -Aicanor
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#2 Post by Asurion Whitestar »

Very nice.. :3
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#3 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

He wasn't that unsuccessful!
[url=http://www.ulthuan.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=34506][i]Lord Elessehta Silverbough of Ar Yvrellion, Ruler of Athel Anarhain, Prince of the Yvressi.[/i][/url]
[quote="Narrin’Tim"]These may be the last days of the Asur, but if we are to leave this world let us do it as the heroes of old, sword raised against evil![/quote]
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#4 Post by Elithmar »

Elessehta of Yvresse wrote:He wasn't that unsuccessful!
He, or rather I, lost a lot. ;)
"I say the Eatainii were cheating - again." -Aicanor
"Eatainian jerks…" -Headshot
"It was a little ungentlemanly." -Aicanor (on the Eatainii)
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#5 Post by Aicanor »

But Elithmar defeated those druchii in the end... His navigation skills were suspect though. Good to see you didn't stop writing stories after all, good start! :D
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#6 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

Pretty sure you're still ahead in games against me ^_^
[url=http://www.ulthuan.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=34506][i]Lord Elessehta Silverbough of Ar Yvrellion, Ruler of Athel Anarhain, Prince of the Yvressi.[/i][/url]
[quote="Narrin’Tim"]These may be the last days of the Asur, but if we are to leave this world let us do it as the heroes of old, sword raised against evil![/quote]
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#7 Post by Elithmar »

Elessehta of Yvresse wrote:Pretty sure you're still ahead in games against me ^_^
Yeah, but you're ahead in general. ;)

I'll do a bit more of this story, but most of it I want to leave until the new book comes out - I might want to add some new units to my army. ;)
"I say the Eatainii were cheating - again." -Aicanor
"Eatainian jerks…" -Headshot
"It was a little ungentlemanly." -Aicanor (on the Eatainii)
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#8 Post by daid13 »

Some pretty bowwomen perhaps from his father's harem? Or possibly if he wants to follow his father a skycutter.
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#9 Post by Elithmar »

Some sisters of Avelorn certainly and possibly a phoenix.

Sorry I haven't been writing recently - I promise I'll write something soon although perhaps not to this story...

Stay tuned! :)
"I say the Eatainii were cheating - again." -Aicanor
"Eatainian jerks…" -Headshot
"It was a little ungentlemanly." -Aicanor (on the Eatainii)
"What is it with Eataini being blamed for everything?" -Aicanor
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#10 Post by daid13 »

For some reason when I was thinking about what new units there are I totally forgot about pheonixs. I think I've heard of those being called brain farts, very approporate for me.
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#11 Post by Elithmar »

It's been far too long since I posted in the story telling section (actually, it hasn't, but I mean it's been far too long since I posted a story). I hope to continue with this story in the coming weeks. Enjoy. :) Remember, any feedback or other comments are very welcome.
The First Test

It was raining. Daelaner hated rain. His previously immaculate robes were now sodden and a rather unattractive brown. His bowstring was stowed away so as to not get wet, but even if it were to stay dry, he would not be able to aim to shoot through the blasted murk. More than anything, his spirit was as low as the pitch of the thunder that now bellowed across the plain.

Just half a mile away were the foul orcs, getting closer by the second. As they ran, they called out insults and terrifying warcrys. Daelaner would not usually fear inferior beings such as them, but on this occasion, he was practically wetting himself. If it were not for the wall of elves behind him, he would already have fled. Why? Because he had been told by those who had served under Prince Elithmar that, more often than not, the prince had led his army to defeat and that they doubted his son, Prince Arnarion, would do any better.

On any other occasion, a storm of bolts and arrows would be carving down rank after disordered rank of greenskins. The storm of wind and rain, however, made that impossible on this occasion, so the orcs were able to advance unmolested. And advance they did, sprinting across the plain and never seeming to tire. 

Less than a hundred yards separated the armies now and Daelaner locked shields with his companions. He was in the third rank, yet the enemy still felt far too close. Yes, he would rather there were ten thousand miles between him and them, rather than just two elves. As the savages crossed the last few feet, Daelaner closed his eyes tight and braced for the impact. 

SMASH! The orcs barrelled into the elven line, launching Daelaner backwards against the shield of the sea guard behind him. His eyes shot open, just in time to see an unfortunate elf's head go arcing over him, a streamer of blood trailing behind it. Crimson droplets splattered his face, but he had no time to wipe them off; the elves in front of him had already fallen, leaving him cowering between an unbroken line of shields and a hulking mass of green muscle intent on butchering him in the most brutal manner possible. Instinctively he dodged the first strike (although maybe it was just his knees giving way), raising his shield to block the next. The immense power of the blow shattered his shield and arm alike. He screamed out in pain. Immediately he had to duck again. Finally, as he was starting to recover from the shock, he realised that he could not avoid the strikes forever. Having come to this realisation, he thrust his spear out wildly. To his utter amazement and huge relief, it connected with the orc before him, burrowing quite a way into it. With a howl of rage at being bested, the monster fell to the ground, dead.

Daelaner felt a surge of joy which was quickly cut off, as he realised that he had felled just one tree in the forest, just one drop in the ocean. Despair replaced elation, as an even larger orc replaced the one he had just slain. Daelaner prepared himself for death. 

But all of a sudden, the thunder of hooves replaced the thunder of the sky. Across the battlefield, elven horns called. Called death. As the prince's personal cavalry drove right into the heart of the enemy lines, the rest of the orcs took fright and fled. The cavalry pursued, riding down every single one. Daelaner thanked the gods and slumped to the ground, exhausted.

He had not died, after all. Prince Arnarion had led them to victory.
"I say the Eatainii were cheating - again." -Aicanor
"Eatainian jerks…" -Headshot
"It was a little ungentlemanly." -Aicanor (on the Eatainii)
"What is it with Eataini being blamed for everything?" -Aicanor
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#12 Post by Aicanor »

Haha, nice! I like it! But for the Lore of Heaven's sake, they are Seaguard, they should be used to wet conditions. :lol:
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#13 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

Aicanor wrote:for the Lore of Heaven's sake
I liked this, Haha~
[url=http://www.ulthuan.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=34506][i]Lord Elessehta Silverbough of Ar Yvrellion, Ruler of Athel Anarhain, Prince of the Yvressi.[/i][/url]
[quote="Narrin’Tim"]These may be the last days of the Asur, but if we are to leave this world let us do it as the heroes of old, sword raised against evil![/quote]
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#14 Post by Malossar »

Great work Friend! real improvement on the character features.
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#15 Post by Elithmar »

Thanks a lot for the comments. :) And Aicanor, I suppose they're used to the water being under them, not falling on them. :lol:
Ghost Town

Morale was high as the army marched through the sea of leaves carpeting the road. The late-morning sun was climbing towards its zenith and the light breeze carried yet more dry, brown leaves gently down from the trees standing as silent sentinels over the road. Having defeated the roaming orc warband near the coast, the army had been marching towards the human city which they had been called to aid against its neighbours. This had been the pretext for Arnarion's campaign. Everyone knew he cared little for the baron or the city they were going to help, but then neither did they care: all the soldiers cared about was their pay.

The prince himself proudly rode at the head of the column on his snowy white steed, breastplate gleaming in the sunlight. Perhaps his pride was in his soldiers, perhaps in his own skill. Certainly if he were his father, it would be the latter; with Arnarion, it was harder to tell. Which ever one it was, it was well justified.

As the army began to round a corner, a line of people and carts could be seen approaching. There must have been about twenty of them and, from the looks of things, they had all of their worldly possessions with them. Curious, the prince rode ahead to meet them.

"Greetings! Where are you going?" he called, followed a moment later by a translation from an aide.

The man at the front of the group called something back, all the time looking terrified and regularly glancing over his shoulder, as if he was being hunted. As soon as he'd finished speaking, he hurridly resumed walking, leading the carts and the rest on, past the prince. 

"The dead," said the translator. "Walk the streets again. Every night they take another person. We are the only ones left. We are fleeing before they take us too."

The prince listened carefully. Then he turned and called to the retreating figures. "Stop! We fear no ghosts. We shall see that the dead in your town sleep again soon enough."

At this, the human paused and looked around at Arnarion with wide-eyed incredulity. Then he shook his head and continued along the road. 

The prince's advisors hurried up to Arnarion, urging him to continue along the road and not bother with such a trivial matter. But the prince would have none of it; he was firmly set with the idea. He organised for the main body of the army to carry on in their march whilst he and a hand-picked body of a hundred elves stood guard in the town that night. 

Unfortunately for him, Daelaner was one of them.

***

Daelaner wished he were somewhere else - anywhere else! Why did he have to be one of the few unlucky enough to be in the detachment sent to the haunted town?

It would be pitch-black if not for the full moon hanging high above the deserted town, washing the houses in an eerie glow. The icy wind chilled him to the bone as it swept through the street and in through the open window. He would have shut it but he could hardly shoot his bow through glass and it didn't look like the humans had cleaned their windows for a while, so he wouldn't even be able to see through them. However, it didn't really matter, as there was nothing to see.

He was cold, tired and above all, incredibly scared. Orcs were one thing, but undead were another thing entirely. At least orcs would flee when the fight was going against them; skeletons didn't know what fleeing was. As his insides churned with fear, Daelaner wished once more that he were somewhere - anywhere - else. 

Just then the town's clock struck, heralding midnight. As the last chime died away, the seconds seemed to stretch into hours. An unearthly mist filled the streets. Imagined images kept materialising and then dispersing again. Daelaner imagined a skull was floating towards him. Limbs and then a body appeared too. As it drew closer and failed to disappear, he realised with mounting horror that it wasn't just in his imagination. He hurridly nocked an arrow and loosed it. Not even close. Now it was too near to shoot so, dropping his bow, he grabbed his spear. Overcome with terror, he momentarily forgot all his training and thrust out wildly, again missing dramatically. He had one chance left before it was upon him. Narrowing his eyes, he aimed for the skull and held his breath. Time crawled on at a painfully slow rate, mocking him. But then the spear found its mark and the rotting skull exploded in a shower of bone. Daelaner let out a huge sigh of relief. 

Looking around, he couldn't even see the walls of the tiny room. Where his companions were, he did not know. He waded through the mist towards what he thought was the back of the house. As the wall came into view, he saw a crumpled elven body lying on the floor. He didn't recognise the elf, but nevertheless he stooped down to close his eyelids.

As he stood again, he thought he heard a noise behind him. He spun around; nothing was there. He slowly began to turn back to the dead elf, fear gnawing at his insides. He turned his head and looked straight into two unblinking pits of eldritch fire. His cry was muffled by the unnatural mist as a skeletal hand reached up and hit him around the head. He fell to the wooden floor. The last thing he saw before the world was engulfed in darkness was the mist parting to let a bright white figure come charging towards his assailant, burning blade raised in both hands. After that, he remembered nothing.
"I say the Eatainii were cheating - again." -Aicanor
"Eatainian jerks…" -Headshot
"It was a little ungentlemanly." -Aicanor (on the Eatainii)
"What is it with Eataini being blamed for everything?" -Aicanor
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#16 Post by Aicanor »

He's definitely not fit to be Yvressii. I am more than a little curious what happens next.
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#17 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

Heh, the mists of Yvresse be different to this, but no less dangerous.
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#18 Post by Larose »

Oh come now, even the Yvressii must have a strong distaste for the mists... no more magnificent views from the tall towers? sailing into rocks and such bah, madness I say :D
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#19 Post by Malossar »

Larose wrote:Oh come now, even the Yvressii must have a strong distaste for the mists... no more magnificent views from the tall towers?

Fool! For a Yvressi the mists are the magnificent views.
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#20 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

Every time I look out the window and see the mists, I see the beautiful face of my betrothed, or it might be Ladrielle, either way, it's a pretty face ^_^
[url=http://www.ulthuan.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=34506][i]Lord Elessehta Silverbough of Ar Yvrellion, Ruler of Athel Anarhain, Prince of the Yvressi.[/i][/url]
[quote="Narrin’Tim"]These may be the last days of the Asur, but if we are to leave this world let us do it as the heroes of old, sword raised against evil![/quote]
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#21 Post by Elithmar »

Sorry this has taken so long and it's quite short. I suppose I find it hard to write about anything that's not a battle or involving Elithmar's ego. :P I hope you enjoy it.
Morning

All Daelaner could see was feet: two feet in cavalry boots, filling his vision. And they were standing on the wall too.

Then he realised that the feet were the right way up and that he must be lying down. Carefully and painfully turning so that he was looking up, he saw an elf crouching over him, a look of concern tarnishing his beautiful features. It only took him an instant to realise that this was the prince and his hasty attempt to stand up to attention ended with him falling back down into an even more uncomfortable position. He conceded and instead set his mind to working out what had happened. 

The prince spoke. "You were knocked out by one of those blasted skeletons. You were lucky not to be killed, as many of our number were. Eventually we found the necromancer responsible in the graveyard. Once he was dead, the mists cleared and the skeletons had vanished."

The prince was going to say something else, but Daelaner interrupted him as he suddenly remembered. "It was you who killed the skeleton which attacked me, wasn't it?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. "It was lucky I found you," he admitted.

This time Daelaner succeeded in rising jerkily to his feet. He tried in vain to think what to say as he looked on in wonder at his saviour. After several long, awkward moments, he simply said, "Thank you."

Arnarion shifted embarrassedly on the spot. "It was nothing," he said, eyes fixed on the floor. Then he regained some of his authority and asked, "What is your name?"

"Daelaner."

"Your unit's captain was killed in the fighting here. I saw how bravely you fought last night. I'd like to promote you to his position." With that, the prince hurridly turned and left the house, exiting into the bright, cold morning beyond.

Daelaner struggled to comprehend what had just happened.
"I say the Eatainii were cheating - again." -Aicanor
"Eatainian jerks…" -Headshot
"It was a little ungentlemanly." -Aicanor (on the Eatainii)
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#22 Post by Aicanor »

Unxpected. :) And of course we enjoy it!
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#23 Post by Elithmar »

I really need to start updating this more regularly. I'm really sorry for the embarassingly long delay and length of this installment, :oops: but I hope you enjoy it.
The Trap Sprung

Even from his unit’s position in the middle of the column, Daelaner could hear the uplifting cheers of the crowds from the human city as the first few units passed through the gates. Marching closer, he heard the roar become steadily loader until, as he was entering through the huge gates, it became deafening. Thousands had gathered in a great deluge, held back only by a precariously thin dam of soldiers from rushing into the main street and drowning all of the elven soldiers marching along. The city was impressive not for its beauty or architecture, which was primitive at best, but for the sheer number of inhabitants – a welcome change from the sparsely populated thoroughfares of Ulthuan.

From the oppressive, yet invigorating, maelstrom of sound, the army gradually marched into the relative quiet of the wide, open square in the centre of the metropolis. Perfectly arrayed in their respective units, not a single hair in the entire force seemed to be out of place, such was the discipline of the Asur warriors. As the soldiers proudly stood as statues, showing off to the populace their splendid training, the officers followed their prince to meet the human baron.

***

The apartments would have seemed lavishly decorated to another human. The floors were flooded with exotic rugs and fine ornaments lined the walls. In the centre of the large room, the baron lifted, with difficulty, his huge mass from his chair. He was a mountain of expensive furs, purple robes and golden jewellery, with a nose and cheeks rosy from too much fine wine; the top of his head gleamed in the candle-light. He greeted Prince Arnarion in his native tongue.

“Thank you for coming all this way, Prince...?”

“Arnarion,” came the reply.

“My humble domain may pale in comparison to the great realms of your homeland, but I certainly have all of the gold you requested.”

The prince smiled politely.

The human now spoke as he turned to reach the glass behind him. “However, there has been a slight complication. You see, soon after your response to my message, I received another offer for aid. A lower offer.”

The smile fell from the prince’s face, replaced by a look of thorough disappointment.

“In fact, they didn’t want to be paid at all! All they wanted was to meet you here.” The baron turned again to face the elves, a broad grin plastering his podgy face. “I believe you may know them.”

Now, out of the shadows in the far corner of the room, previously ignored, stepped a black-haired elf, encased in jagged, dark armour; a smile matching the baron’s in devious glee bisected the gaunt face.

“This is Durathar. He’s from, I believe you call it, Naggaroth. I think he’s going to enjoy the next few weeks with you.”

As mail-clad Druchii swordsmen filed into the room, the officers drew their swords and rushed to form a defensive ring around their prince. As more and more of their enemies filled the room though, it became clear that the situation was hopeless.

“Sheathe your weapons!” Prince Arnarion called to the Asur. “We cannot win. Save yourselves to fight again another day.”

“Ha!” Durathar laughed. “The only thing you’re going to be fighting from now on, traitors, is pain! Throw them into the dungeons!”

Most of the Asur reluctantly followed their prince’s order, but a few, led by Daethir, the veteran sea guard commander, made to charge into the Druchii ranks. However, they were held back by their companions and their weapons were wrenched out of their hands by the swordsmen.

After that the officers and the bloodied survivors of the soldiers left outside (they had not seen sense and surrendered so easily) were imprisoned in the human gaols, left to dread what terrible fate could possibly await them.
"I say the Eatainii were cheating - again." -Aicanor
"Eatainian jerks…" -Headshot
"It was a little ungentlemanly." -Aicanor (on the Eatainii)
"What is it with Eataini being blamed for everything?" -Aicanor
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#24 Post by Glorfindain »

Treachery!!!! I hope that baron gets torn apart by his emo allies.
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#25 Post by Elithmar »

Thanks for commenting, Glorfindain! Good to see someone reads this. And yeah, so do I. ;)

Let's see what kind of tortures the Druchii can come up with... ;)
Torture

Like hundreds of daggers, screams constantly pierced the stale, sweaty air of the dungeons. Whips lashed and flames roared whilst sadistic Druchii torturers sharpened their surgical implements. But this was a twisted surgery.

In the flickering torchlight, all Daelaner could see were the other prisoners in their separate cells, the guards and an archway at either end of the chamber. One led to the outside world above, the other into the torture chambers in the bowels of the citadel. Daelaner had been over it all before, but one final time he checked if there were any possible escape routes: the walls must have been a few metres thick and they were underground anyway, so no chance of escape there. Each archway was guarded by two human guards and, while they wouldn’t be too hard to overcome, the stairway up led to the barracks where the rest of the human soldiers and most of the Druchii were, so that was no good. That only left down and a dead end, or perhaps one of the cruel Druchii knives; he hated to think about them.

His thoughts were interrupted as the Druchii swordsmen came and dragged away another of the Asur. His frantic pleas for mercy were drowned out by a wave of louder screaming. Daelaner wished there was something he could do for him, but there was nothing. They would all just have to sit there until they too were begging for an end to their suffering and finally, when the torturers were bored with them, they would be thrown away like broken dolls.

He still had hope though; while his head told him he would die a painful death in a matter of hours, his heart still said that the prince would save them. The young prince sat in the shadows of his cell, a look of concentration on his bruised and cut face. He must have felt awful, having led his entire army into disaster. Even worse was that Durathar was forcing him to be last, so that he could feel the dreadful guilt as he watched and listened to his followers slowly die, each one glowering at him for leading them to their miserable demise.

The sound of a key turning in a lock roused Daelaner from his thoughts. Perhaps it was the prince coming to rescue him after miraculously escaping himself! Then his heart plummeted. A scowling face framed with lank, black hair confronted him. A mailed hand roughly hauled him out of his cell and dragged him towards misery and suffering. He was shoved against the cool stones of a wall before his tunic was ripped from his back. A second later, the first lash came. The leather bit deep into his flesh. A searing pain spread across his back as the next lash came. He cried out. Then the next came and the next. Just as he thought he could bear it no longer, it suddenly stopped. He dreaded to think what could come next, but the seconds passed and nothing happened. Finally he risked a glance over his shoulder. To his immense relief and delight, he saw his torturer gaping down at the sword protruding from his chest.

“Playtime’s over,” Prince Arnarion growled. He pulled out the sword and the Druchi crumpled to the floor.

The prince threw a bunch of keys to the sea guard captain and then turned and ran further into the torture chambers. Daelaner stared at the keys for a moment before realising what he was supposed to do. Rushing back to the gaols, he began unlocking the cells and freeing the Asur inside. When he’d finished, he led them past the dead guards and back into the torture chambers. The prince was waiting for them.

“Follow me. We haven’t got much time,” he said.

They ran through corridor after identical corridor, dispatching Druchii on the way and collecting more survivors. Some could hardly walk, so the more able helped them limp along.

At last they reached a small room with a table in the middle. On it lay an elf, gruesomely mutilated. Dreadful instruments lay about him. He could hardly open his eyes and the only sound he made was a constant moan at the excruciating pain. Looking closer, they could see why he could make no other noise: his tongue was missing. The prince took a deep breath, raising the sword he’d taken from their tormentors. After a moment he brought it down on the poor elf’s neck, and the groaning ceased.

He turned to the others. “Come on. They’ll be chasing us.”

After what seemed like hours but could only have been minutes, they reached the end of the corridors. There a low arch let in the cool night air. It was a refreshing change from the disgusting smell of suffering and death. Below the arch a torrent raged over jagged rocks, presumably how the bodies were disposed of. They would surely be killed if they jumped. Even Arnarion looked uncertain now.

From not too far behind them came shouts and running footsteps, rapidly getting closer. It seemed they would die after all, either after unimaginable pain at the hands of the Druchii, or on the rocks below.

Arnarion turned to them. “At least we’ll have a chance this way and it’ll be quicker.” He was as much trying to convince himself as the others.

They nodded unanimously. Still they all uncertainly stood transfixed by the writhing waters. But now they could turn back and see the Druchii come running into the chamber. Desperately believing he would have a plan, they watched their prince expectantly.

Arnarion turned to them with a wry smile.

“Jump!”
"I say the Eatainii were cheating - again." -Aicanor
"Eatainian jerks…" -Headshot
"It was a little ungentlemanly." -Aicanor (on the Eatainii)
"What is it with Eataini being blamed for everything?" -Aicanor
daid13
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#26 Post by daid13 »

Interesting, faced with probable death and torture at the hands of druuchi or probable death at the spikes of rock, what do you do?
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Elithmar
Young Eataini Prince
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#27 Post by Elithmar »

Thanks for reading, daid. :)

I don't think there's any question about it though, considering how sadistic those dark elves are.
"I say the Eatainii were cheating - again." -Aicanor
"Eatainian jerks…" -Headshot
"It was a little ungentlemanly." -Aicanor (on the Eatainii)
"What is it with Eataini being blamed for everything?" -Aicanor
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Elessehta of Yvresse
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#28 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

Sorry Eli, I haven't been keeping up, but yours were east to catch up on, so short!
I like that they're getting more regular ^_^
[url=http://www.ulthuan.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=34506][i]Lord Elessehta Silverbough of Ar Yvrellion, Ruler of Athel Anarhain, Prince of the Yvressi.[/i][/url]
[quote="Narrin’Tim"]These may be the last days of the Asur, but if we are to leave this world let us do it as the heroes of old, sword raised against evil![/quote]
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Elithmar
Young Eataini Prince
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#29 Post by Elithmar »

Elessehta of Yvresse wrote:I like that they're getting more regular ^_^
So do I! ;)

I'm not sure if it's good or bad them being so short. Good because they're quick to read and write, but do you think they rush through the story a bit? I suppose I'm so eager to get to the next part I've thought of! :lol:
"I say the Eatainii were cheating - again." -Aicanor
"Eatainian jerks…" -Headshot
"It was a little ungentlemanly." -Aicanor (on the Eatainii)
"What is it with Eataini being blamed for everything?" -Aicanor
Glorfindain
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Re: A Disgraced House Rises Again

#30 Post by Glorfindain »

I like the short updates. The pace stays punchy while the characters still develop with each addition. Keep 'em coming!
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