# Numbered Days



## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

NOTE: :grin::victory: Alright, here's a different approach I'm going to try, this is basically a retelling of what I had done originally, I have just the beginning so far along with some other parts that should come up later. The beginning prologue is a bit old, but that's only because I can't seem to find the inspiration to write a new one, but you know how it is  . So without further ado:


​ 
Chapter One: Shadowed Blight​ Nula 12th of winter​ Kazan Castle: Dayashora City, Nagasa Province of Irothis​ 8th Year and 51st day of incarceration​ 
Michelle swiveled in her mahogany chair, coming face to face with her sister, Queen Selyene. “Is there any particular reason you wish this soul… released from my devout care?” Michelle’s soft lavender eyes searched her twin’s own black, soulless orbs.​ 
“Ah Michelle, truly, it is such a delight having these conversations with you. Spending time with my only sister on a beautiful snowy day no less. I shall miss some of your arrogance when you come to my age. My ever loyal and steadfast Warden. Pray tell, shall you rise and walk with me for a midday conversation?” The Queen of Irothis inclined her head towards the open seal of a window. The cold gust rippled through the office, blowing papers off the Warden’s desk. If she cared she showed little sign. “Come; let us discuss the fate of a few of our undesirables.”​ 
“I am a servant of your will. Your majesty.” Michelle threw her boots off the desk, and rose in her white and lavender heavy cloak, woven around her uniform like a second skin.​ 
“None-the-less, I don’t have to like you going through my convicts to suite your own goals.” She brushed patches of snow of snow from her short and silky raven hair. “My gut tells me that I will have to let the slight go, however, since there’s very little I can do about any of this.”​ 
The Queen shook her head gravely at her. “Ever the gloomy one. You’ve always been like this. Constantly playing the lonely dungeon keeper with your cruel antics.” Selyene’s gaze held bountiful wisdom and uncompromising nobility within itself. A trait that came with her maturity and age that slightly gnawed at her complexion. One look at her sister was eerily similar to looking into her past reflections. Her younger self, the pride and joy of the royal family. Unfortunately none of that had changed since she had taken the throne. Michelle had proven a reluctant heir because of her youth, now the time to take her place in the immediate line of succession had passed her by. “You’re sad because I take what rightly belongs to Irothis? You do realize that you cannot have everything simply by keeping it tucked away?”​ 
“Please, I do not bat an eyelash for such rabble. Let alone care, Selyene.” Michelle couldn’t hide her abrasive snort, cheeks flushing slightly as Selyene cast her stalwart gaze over her quarters. “Time has been busy as of late. You’ll excuse this mess.” 
She made her way around the desk to offer a hand for her queen, who took the gesture smiling. She rose to her feet in her black and ruby dress, looking every part of royalty as she did so with grace and practiced fluidity.​ 
“Such work barely makes a difference in the eyes of Irothis for a royal daughter, Michelle, and is beneath you. I do not see the thrill that accompanies fighting alongside the lower class idealists. You could be doing so much more. Even joining a prestigious branch of the military would be a welcome change.” Selyene turned on her heel towards the door, Michelle’s hand in hers. She spoke in hushed tones to her bodyguards on they’re departure. “Do make sure that you keep your weapons out of sight. I would hate to disturb the diligent citizens that work and toil here.”​ 
The two of them headed into the depths of Castle Kazan. The upper levels of the Warden’s dungeon towers were lit by clouded sun and smoldering candlelight spilled from within open offices, creating a flux of colors across the walls of unadorned shoji and fine waxed wood. A pleasant smell of incense lingered, creating a sense of calm in the traditional structure.​
Michelle shrugged off her sister’s words, something she had found incredibly easy when her father could no longer say such things to her. “You’re always repeating yourself when it comes to my line of duty for Irothis. Makes me wonder what would happen if I had become the next heir.” 

Never underestimate the silver tongues of royalty, Michelle remembered the words of her long deceased father. A piece of advice that would never leave her so long as Selyene remained alive and on a throne. She could always weave her words with honey. Each syllable promised someone’s temptation, another’s dream. All because there lay a glimmer of truth at the bottom of her words. Nothing was out of reach for her to grant, because she was a Queen. Through her just about anything could be made a reality.​ 

Selyene’s next salvo proved a tip of the blade, thrust at her pride and responsibility. “It is not out of your reach, just yet. I’m sure such destinies would forever change your thoughts and cold demeanor. A nation has its ways of seeping into your heart. When the time comes, you will hear of the people’s woes and it will be your divine right and pleasure to bestow upon them measured blessings as well. You will actually care about the future that must be paved for future generations. Preserving not only your own legacy, but that of the royal family and country.”​ 
Michelle flicked through prisoner files, pausing briefly to examine key points. “Well enough about that for now. So what about these prisoners? I’ll need names. Some proper background checks beforehand would be good. I’m sure you don’t want your average cut throat or rapist.””​ 
Once again, Michelle felt her hand being forced by the Queen’s desires. “One of my guards will give you all that I need. Please bring them all and a few others that you feel may fit what I’m searching for.”​ “I shall see to matters personally, my Queen. We will have them lined up for your inspection as soon as possible. At your behest of course.” The Warden instantly began thinking about which guards she could round up for the job. Surely it wouldn’t be difficult, but what was the fun in not giving prisoners a hard time?​ 
The Queen pointed through an open window, out into a flat field blanketed with snow. “Bring them into the prison courtyards at nightfall; there I will proceed to inspect them personally. I hope I can count on you to bring them into line?”​ 
A mischievous smirk played on the younger twin’s lips, mentally rubbing her hands together as she thought up a few names. “A usual procedure here, a necessary chore.”


Isolation- Castle Kazan​ 
_“Okay, who do we need to pull from isolation then?” _

Sooner or later, his fate was going to finally catch up to him. It had been an arduous journey, coming all the way here where the sunlight was pale and constantly strangled by rolling clouds. Controlling his breathing somewhat helped Jasairis’ aching pains. He glanced up with heavy eyes at that gaping hole in the cell where he counted every burst of light signaling another dawn. Each tally added up in his mind was another day he could no longer count on. Down in Isolation, that was really what any one soul could hope to do without rousing suspicion.

_“Just the one, Commander. You may have some trouble trying to get him out of his cell, the Overseer says he’s injured.”_

His head rolled back down to stare at the floor of his cell, wounded body still slumped against the wall where the Wardens had left him two nights prior. The blood on his back had grown sticky and uncomfortable, the bandages around his torso definitely needed a change. Too sapped of energy for an attempt to climb into his bed, the patched knife wounds in his back and ribcage had begun the slow process of healing none-the-less. At least he was still breathing, whatever good that would do him. The Wardens would come calling tomorrow and see his long awaited execution through. Such was the fate of those bearing bronze seals of Wolf heads on their hands, with a pair of crossed blades underneath. The crest of the royal family, to bear it without their blood was to be in unwelcome company. 

Jasairis couldn’t shake the feeling of vertigo nor the misplaced sense of serenity his body felt at being so high above the earth. Isolation was built upon every level that made Kazan’s dungeons. Being locked away in the highest point of the prison left him feeling like he had been left on a mountainside and just out of reach of the peak. In these walls, silence had proved a far more faithful companion than the shadows and strife of the executioner’s row. If only he had been more vigilant, he wouldn’t have taken a stolen knife to his torso and would’ve looked a deal less pathetic than he did now. 

_“Commander.”_

The thunderous echo of gunfire was distant, probably the executions of the less than reputable inmates out in the yards. A pale light rained down from the ceiling and onto the facility, washing the prison in a sterile glow that gave light to Isolation. A body cloaked in midnight robes and bronze scaled armor blocked off his line of sight to his fellows across the hall. He had an assault 
rifle slung over his shoulder and his gaze on the code locked doors confining him here.​ 
_“Open the door. I have business with one of your captives.” _A hiss of vented pressure and moving mechanisms echoed across the cluster small cluster of cells. What had been a moment of reflection just became something tense and uneasy.

The shadows of an unfamiliar figures suddenly eclipsed his light, falling over him like an ominous cloud. “Ah, and here he is, just waiting to tempt fate like all of the others, or is that part of your life repented for, heathen?” Her voice was smooth and harsh, rolling off her tongue with the same cruel judgment that radiated from her soft, lavender eyes. She observed him for his reaction, resorting to falling on a knee for eye contact when she realized he wouldn’t rise to the occasion. “Aren’t you going to talk to me? That’s right; let me see your face… the Overseer was right, you’re a mess right now. You’ve been in here for three nights now, you should be well enough to walk.​ 
Ise. Does he look anything suitable?”​ 
There was another Officer by Michelle’s side, though she appeared somewhat lacking in physical constitution compared to most other guards. Judging by the stack of files carried in a leather bag slung over her shoulder, Jasairis assumed she was an attendant of some sort. She kept glaring at him with her blank expression, sparing an occasional glance back to her papers in hand again and again. She occasionally nodded with her words as she relayed them back to her superior.​ 
“Middling body, quite trimmed, somewhat sloe-eyed and they’re a little far-set. Nose is very blade-like and his features are very sharp, most certainly some Irothan blood in his veins, but his skin is a very pallid shade of mahogany… probably half Irothan and Rynithian or perhaps Eosan? Take at glance at his hair for example...” The attendant risked a couple of steps closer to the cell bars. “His shock of hair could be from either side, it’s very ropy actually. I can’t really place any degree of importance on him at face value, we will have to wait and see what the royal heir says.”​ 
“Thank you, Ise, it is as I thought: there is nothing special about this one. Take him out!” Michelle barked at a trio of Wardens dressed in attire similar to hers. They quickly mobilized into action, approaching the cell with an air of caution mixed with timely practice.​ 
Michelle stood by apathetically, gently prodding Jasairis with a few verbal jabs, no doubt testing invisible limitations that was holding him together, making him tick. “A shame, I find the grey jumpsuit so fitting on you. Truth be told, you will hold interest for only a while. Then we’ll begin the process of breaking you down just a little further, just enough for us to make some use of you.”​ 
The gate of the cell flew open and immediately, two pairs of strong arms wrapped around his own lean ones and hurled him onto the edge of his toes as they dragged him before the Commander Warden.​ 
“Knock him out.”​ 
Before Jasairis could even open his mouth to protest, the edge of a steel baton cracked over his left temple and suddenly the world turned blurry. All he could hear were the Wardens talking amongst themselves and Michelle’s soft, haunting laughter as he felt himself being dragged from across the floor. They had traversed flights of stairs and entire floors were left behind as they began a long descent into the castle dungeon. By the time he had figured that out, everything shortly went black.​ -------------​ ​


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## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

The cool winter gust slapped him like a rush of ice water and had finally succeeded in awakening him. A few seconds for gathering his thoughts and piecing together his blurred vision, clarity once again returned. The destination that the Wardens had been dragging him towards suddenly became reality. A labyrinth of Pagoda like structures that made up Castle Kazan rose out of the snow storm. The ancient fortress looked nothing short of a long lost mythical kingdom. He had seen the Castle from the outside once, built upon multiple layers that resembled terraces. Each of them held a swathe of buildings and their own open spaces, making it feel much less condensed and open. The entire structure was built on top of its own high wall foundation and stood as a defiant feat of Irothis’ architecture and engineering.​ 
The half crescent moon waned in the cloud light and the skies were visibly dark. It seemed as quiet as one would expect on a pleasant night with only the whispers of the wind and falling snow to keep to you company. The moon seemed far closer than it would naturally appear from the Earth itself and Jasairis wondered how far they were above ground.​ 

The way his limbs ached told him they had been dragging him for a long time and groaned a mild curse at the aching in his temple. He felt torn between being relieved that he had not been thrown into another cell or being brought before waiting riflemen and what they were actually going to do to him whenever they arrived at their desired location.​ 

“Ow, shit! Where are we?” He croaked finally, looking around the open courtyard that was now filled with fresh snow.​ 
One of the guards carrying him spat, automatically reaching for his baton rather urgently. “Hold on, I’ll hit him over the head again.”​ 
“Uh, uh, uh!” The same guard looked back over his shoulder to see Michelle wagging her finger. “We’re almost there; he doesn’t need to be unconscious when Selyene arrives!”​ 

“Of course, Warden Michelle.” The guard sounded somewhat chastised and let the thought perish, still dragging Jasairis one handed across the snow. For a moment the convict was convinced the son of a bitch would eventually drop him onto the concrete that surely laid beneath.​ 

“It always amazes me that we have our recreation areas for convicts so far up in the castle. Oh well, at least they know there is no way to escape this high up in the air.” Michelle was blabbering to herself, and then decided to address their new found inmate. “Ah, you know Jasairis, I am glad you’re awake. So now I can be honest with you. I’ve seen your record and you’re not half as bad as I made you out to be. You must understand- most of those criminals in those cells with you are some of the worst. I gladly have them herded out each day to face the consequences of the actions that had led them astray and ultimately, into my cells. I admit, simply being in with that lesser rabble, I had initially overlooked you, guilt by association or so they say.​ 

But tonight, your luck finally changes.” Michelle began to set a pace for a large structure they were beginning to near, passing Jasairis and her lackeys carrying him. “Take him in with the others, then,” She knelt down, brushing back some of the inmate’s hair to examine his temple. “Jasairis, she will be waiting for you. But you will not see her as you are now; you need a little sprucing up.”​ 

The third Warden that had been trailing them the entire time with a rifle in hand moved out in front of them to open the doors leading inside. She pressed a series of digits on a keypad and a wave of light swept over her face, confirming her identity in the system. The doors slid open like they were actually light of weight, beyond them an abyssal black that made Jasairis want to stop in his tracks.​ 

A blood curdling scream came through the darkness and a man, dressed in a familiar grey jumpsuit leapt out from the sudden opening. Angry shouts and whizzing bullets traced his tracks, none able to deter his abrupt escape. His sudden appearance took the woman warden completely off guard, the freed prisoner immediately pounced on her when he saw his escape route suddenly cut off.​ 

A rattle of automatic fire rang out in the haunting silence and three bloody holes suddenly appeared in the man’s head, arm, and the side of his ribcage. He toppled without another sound. Two guards immediately rushed out of the building to secure the prisoner, but stopped short when they came across his still form with the Warden lying underneath. She kicked the dead inmate off of him and a Warden helped her to her feet.​ 

“Damn all of these imbeciles, take the cuffs off these scum for one second…” Michelle uttered darkly, no sympathy or remorse in her tone. “Can’t even get a haircut and shower?”​ 

“Haircut and shower?” Jasairis reiterated her words, confusion setting in his tone.​ 

“You are not like the rest are you, Sil? Don’t worry, soon you will find others like you.” The Commander Warden smiled and gestured for him to walk inside. “I think he can stand on his own now, boys, just follow him closely.”​ 

“Yes, ma’am.” The pair of guards slowly lowered Jasairis onto his feet, the numbing feeling of snow on his bare skin sent needles prickling through his feet. He had to ignore the sting of his wounds and swallow his ill sense of reluctance when one of his captors nudged him onward. Feeling the blood rush through his limbs, Jasairis strode through the unwelcoming doors of the large, temple like structure.​ 

Very dim lights painted a bleak, ominous interior. The little Jasairis could discern from them was that it was a maze of paths to maneuver through. This was not a place that was visited regularly by normal people, that much was certain. He could tell by the dank, concrete walls and hard tile floors that it was meant for someone who was use to a more Spartan existence.​ 
One of the guards corrected his sudden movement with a tap of his baton, pointing him down the straightest path. “This way. Go.”​ 

There was a strange buzzing noise that could be heard over the extremely loud air conditioning and also the sound of rushing water. The closer he approached one of the doors; he could hear quiet murmurings behind them. The guards that walked with him appeared to be listening as well, but unfazed, only when they finally approached a door with no sound emitting from it did they tell him to stop and guide him in.​ 
“Take a seat.”​ 

The soldier waiting in the room was a massive six and a half foot wall of muscle and was leaning against the wall when they had barged in. His camouflage combat suit was a very dark tint, made up of the most obscured colors that barely made the pattern visible. An ammunition belt was strapped over his fatigues, but he didn’t seem to be wearing any bullet resistant armor – not that he needed any. The unnamed soldier held something strange and metal in his hands and the closer Jasairis inspected it, he could see it was a pair of clippers.​ 
The barber immediately gestured for him to sit in the sturdy black chair bolted down in the middle of the room. Jasairis did so without having to be told again, awkwardly taking the seat for himself and taking in the rest of the room at a glance. It was surprisingly sterile and clean, yet somehow dirty looking to him, he wondered if he had been the first to come here or if anyone else would come after him.​ 
The two Wardens that had escorted him in suddenly began to file out of the room, closing the door behind them. The soldier began with finding a cape from one of his boxes in the corner of the room and wrapped it around Jasairis’ neck. Next he took a look at the convict’s hair and even Jasairis could feel him snarl and grunt with disapproval. He grabbed the right size of guard, a comb, and a towel, but proceeded to utter something that Jasairis inwardly cringed at.​ 

“Inmates should only have one cut.”​ 

And so Jasairis suddenly found himself in that room for the next fifteen minutes, feeling every ounce of skill the Barber had being poured into his work of art. Entire clumps of his hair fell from his head, following by combing, and then a repeat until most of it was lying in his lap or on the floor. He actually felt little when the Barber showed him the end result through a mirror that had been mounted onto one of the walls.​ 

Jasairis stared back at himself with curious eyes and somewhat smirked when he realized the unnamed soldier had given him a very low buzz cut similar to his own. The violet of his eyes seemed somewhat determined and still partially fearful, but soon he realized that they were the centerpiece of his face now that the hair wasn’t hiding his sight anymore. His milk chocolate skin spoke of a deep Rynithian descent, but the color was so pale -like it was mixed with a brilliant white- that his origins appeared clearly steeped in an Irothan bloodline as well.​ 
“I swore to you that I’d never be ashamed, Sarahni.” He uttered with a degree more resolve, even in the face of erratic changes in the winds of fate.​ 

“Make her proud, son.” The Barber slapped him on the shoulder as the doors once again opened and two familiar faces again appeared to guide him out.​ 

“Done? Let’s go.”​ 
Another step into the ghastly halls of this place made him tense, a plague of nerves on his spine. The Wardens this time guided him even further down the path, this time coming closer and closer toward the sound of running water he had heard earlier. This time they were traversing through the narrow corridors as if it were a maze, one that they knew the inner workings of. He was still amazed how there seemed to be people present in this building, yet they had not come across a single soul.
Jasairis’ previous thoughts were interrupted when his escorts told him to take a sudden left into an old designed shower room. It was surprisingly empty and barren of anything save for towels and a few rows of lockers. Yet the tile was wet and slippery to the touch, telling him that others had indeed been in here.

“Here.” One of Michelle’s lackeys kicked open a locker, revealing a fresh combat suit lying inside complemented with a suit of armor. “Put that on when you’re done.”

“And I’m supposed to know how to put that on by myself, do I?” Jasairis responded skeptically, looking a bit apprehensive.

“What? You want me to show you?” The same guard spat mockingly and the other one broke out in a fit of laughter. “Put the “fatigues” on, not the armor, got it?”

“Yeah I guess I’ll figure that out myself, easy enough anyway.” Jasairis sneered in his whisper like voice and waved them out.

They happily obliged, walking away to no doubt take up guard just outside the door.

Jasairis took off his clothes and took a random shower head, turning it on and allowing the barely warm water to wash the muck and dirt off of his skin. He ran a hand through his barely existent hair on his head and let out a relieved sigh. He couldn’t help but think of what was happening just half an hour beforehand, watching all those people go to their deaths. It was sickening to him, to be honest.

There was a loud squeak, followed by a sudden burst of falling water beside him and he turned to see someone stepping into the adjacent shower. Both of their heads were visible and the two of them exchanged curious glances for a moment, eyeing each other cautiously.

“Everyone’s getting the same cuts today, huh? Barber’s special I guess. Glad I’m not one of you guys!” The man was somewhat built, way more than Jasairis and he spoke in a voice that belied his appearance. His bright red eyes glanced in his direction as he spared himself a small laugh. He was of a descent that had obviously originated nowhere around Irothis, he could tell that by his chestnut colored skin. His hair was a reddish hue of brown and came down to around his eyes and Jasairis wondered where he hailed from.

Jasairis opted to play his game for a while, it would have been awkward otherwise. “Yeah, it was definitely needed. Soldiers definitely seem different than the Wardens or the guards, those bastards keep cracking down no matter what.”

“I don’t really come from where you do then, my friend, must’ve come up from the Executioner’s row.”

“Guess everyone hears about that place at some point in their lives here, huh?” Jasairis attempted to shake the memories, but they kept plaguing him. He was never really one for prayer, but he found himself silently thanking Ni’halia that he had been finally brought out of there. He didn’t know whether that was premature or not, he didn’t even know if they were going to throw him back in.

“So what are you in for? The name’s Anathis by the way, Anathis Anlith.”

“Jasairis Sil and I’m in for something foolish that I did a long time ago.”

“Aren’t we all?” Anathis grinned widely. “I’m guessing you’re here for the conscription then?”

“Conscription?” Jasairis huffed in disbelief, allowing himself a somber laugh at Anathis’ words. “What is this you speak of? I remember something similar happening when I was a child, my mother actually was a volunteer. They say they happen once in a generation, but it must’ve been at least twenty three years ago.”

“Well, why do you think they want you to put that uniform on?”

“I thought it was so I could look well for my coffin and burial, maybe masked how they shot me to the public.”

“You’re a grim thinker, Sil. I guess you’ll need that. We’ll find out soon, right?”

Jasairis switched the shower head off and peered at Anathis, then shrugged before walking out with a towel wrapped around his waist. He opened up the locker the Warden had kicked in earlier, and took out the combat suit. It was a very dark tint of camouflage that he had seen the barber where and began putting on everything required to wear it before putting it on. Anathis quickly showed him some pointers on how to make it look proper and the two of them emerged from that dirty room new men.
The pair of Wardens that had been showing Jasairis around turned from the other group of prison guards that were likewise looking after Anathis to examine them as they both emerged from the showers. All of them grunted in approval and began to take up the task of shepherding the convict and acquaintance toward another destination. They came close to the entrance that they had originally came through, but were instead thrown into another poorly lit space before having the door shut on them again.

“Wait here.” One of the guard’s had spoken before shutting the way behind them.

“So this is where everyone is?” Anathis breathed as he looked over the four dozen strangers all sitting down on a couple of benches that occupied the room. They were all dressed similar to Jasairis and himself and looked at them with blank faces. There were both men and women, and all of them seemed beat up in a way, Jasairis was certain that there were plenty of backgrounds to be shared by them.

“I hope to the Goddess that our luck changes soon.” Jasairis whispered to himself and moved to take a seat amongst the others.


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## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

Jasairis hadn’t ever really been too shocked by the things he had seen in prison, in there, people were simply trying to survive and make a living. Getting himself thrown into death row had been a huge mistake simply because he did not calculate the consequences his actions would bring when he had done them. He was not a thief, not a rapist, though he was a murderer in the most technical sense and though it took some time for her to realize that, eventually Michelle did in some miraculous revelation.

He knew that Wardens were always distrustful of those who lived above law or merely thought that they did, but he had never seen the extent of such issues that could be perceived as trivial by a few could ultimately spiral out of control. Really, the problem was stemming from all sorts of issues: living in constant fear of being fatally mauled by some repressed individual they knew little about, the lives lost attempting to bring order and their twisted sense of justice to those individuals, and the hatred that stemmed from both of those examples.

It wasn’t easy being surrounded by those you know loathes you, either, especially when they travel in large packs to keep yourself secure and in order. It’s even more difficult when they know that you and everyone else chained up with you despises them with a similar hatred. The Wardens didn’t seem to relax even after they barged back into the room in numbers. They kept their guns held tightly across their chests or leveled at suspicious looking individuals and he wondered if they were ever going to lower them at some point. Of course, he wasn’t going to be the one telling to them back off unless he wanted to take a steel baton to the knee or worse.

Anathis whispered from his spot beside him, looking as curious as ever. “You know you never told me what you’re in for? Must be something big if you’ve been thrown into the executioner’s waiting cells.”

Jasairis replied reluctantly, keeping a wary eye out for any sign that could give away the Wardens’ intentions of keeping them locked in here. “You never told why you’re exactly here yourself, besides conscription.”

“Oh did I not now?” His strange friend winked with a wide grin. “Well I suppose it doesn’t hurt anyone, I’m an ex-soldier actually, from the land of Eos. Heard of it by any chance?”

“Most children learn it on maps now of days. Of course I’ve heard of it. You’re a long way from home my friend.”

“I first came to Irothis around half a decade ago, thought I’d tour the sights and such, find some exotic women. You know how things are.” Anathis shrugged off the awkward tension besetting everyone crammed into that small room with a hearty laugh, which drew the attention of a few other inmates. “I’ve been living here ever since, enduring the harsh winter climate and I eventually seek to go Valicia one day if only just to lay eyes on the forgotten kingdom. If my blood doesn’t freeze over by then, at least. Like I said, I’m not necessarily a prisoner, but I’ve been called in to sign up. I doubt a lot of these people are.”

One of the inmates finally spoke up. “Well, I think I’d be foolish to ask, but I’ll go ahead and ask anyway. You willingly came to a land ruled over by an egotistical highborn society in a time of impending war just for some sight-seeing and fast women? No wonder you’re in here with the rest of us, just waiting to die at someone’s behest like sheltered animals no one wants to keep anymore. ” She was a striking woman with oceanic eyes and vibrant white skin suddenly questioned with a dangerous darkness deep within her gaze. Her face was tattooed in several places, a unique face in an ocean of un-significant people. Her skin seemed unusually rich and immediately, Jasairis could guess that she had some generous amount of Valician blood in her body. She glared at Jasairis with an unsettling smile and gestured in Anathis’ direction. “What brings you two into Kalin’nos? You don’t appear to be looking to strike fortune with some of the marked ladies in here.”

“I was under the impression that I didn’t know shit like everyone else here.” Jasairis grumbled in slight irritation, regarding her with an eye of caution. “The hell does “marked” even mean?”

“Easy half-blood,” The Valician swept some of her incredibly long and flowing hair off her chest to emphasize her tattoos. “You know, “marked”, I am not speaking among kin?”

An awkward silence passed between the three while Jasairis and Anathis exchanged confused glances. Anathis answered her with a careless shrug and simply shook his head gravely. Jasairis however, leaned in closer to her to inspect her strange tattoos and she allowed him to pull back her silky light ochre hair to reveal the symbol imprinted onto the back of her hand.

“I think you misunderstand, I’m not related to your people.” He held up his own hand to show her an identical image of a pair of crossed blades held under a howling wolf’s head: The Crest of Household Nagasa.

The Valician girl smiled genuinely as if she was embracing one of her own long lost relatives, gripping Jasairis in a bear hug that he found incredibly awkward as the Guards beheld them with uncompassionate gazes. “It’s called a Vi, half-blood, or a spiritual bond as you would call. One does not have to be anointed by blood to carry the mark, but you must have known someone who was. That must be it. Visions kept rushing through my mind about why you would bear the mark of treason. After all, few carry it on them lightly; she must’ve been quite the firecracker to land you in here willingly.”

“You don’t know me.”

Jasairis felt her words wash over him coldly, dousing his memories with a kindling resurgence. “It’s only a royal crest, got it when I landed in prison. No one’s marked me, so I don’t think I’m a part of your kin. I’m only familiar with an acquaintance, long gone from this world. I am Irothan first and yes, I have some Rynithian descent, but do me a favor and stop calling me half-blood, would you?”

“Well that is where one usually receives marks of treason and I did not mean anything by it “Jasairis”.” Kizzie snarled at the name as if it were simply an alias rather than his real name. “A good omen you do not maintain ties with this enigmatic lady acquaintance of yours, rumors say these Wardens want us to hunt conspirators against the state. Who better suited to that task than conspirators themselves? My real name is Asuve, but people here know me as Kizzie. While we’re on the topic of why we’re in here, I used to be a mole planted in the Irothan Government.”

“Oh that must’ve been living it up a little, huh?” Anathis nodded his approval, obviously impressed. “We use to take out all sorts of characters back home, it wouldn’t be too much to begin doing that again.”

“Yes, a wealthy life-style of the finest sort,” Asuve chuckled softly to herself, “But I was too young and reckless to realize that I could have simply cut my ties and keep it all for myself. At least for a little while until I could manage my disappearance. You know, smoke and mirrors.

I eventually got turned in after delivering intelligence on a few specific Irothan counter spies. But only after I had them marked for death and their end was swift and brutal. Somehow the Assassination Squads managed to trace their tragic ends back to yours truly.”

“I don’t need to explain myself to anyone.” Jasairis grumbled, but Asuve noted his wayward smile as he did so.

“Good. I have a feeling our years of pent up anxiety and woes shall be unleashed on the world in the coming days. In a polite and respectable way of course.” Asuve grinned with self-satisfaction in at least getting a smile from him. “I hope you fellas don’t mind if I tag along with your sort? You seem strong and at least we have something in common, Jasairis. Whatever it is we’re about to go through, we should stick together.”

“The pleasure is ours.” Anathis reached over and formerly exchanged handshakes with her, much to her pleasure.

“Oh? Here comes the royal crown now!” The heavy exaggeration of excitement in Asuve’s fawning abolished some of Jasairis’ doubts despite being simply that, an exaggeration. But the lack of fear wasn’t completely lost on him.

The heavy doors keeping them locked in this room gently parted before the Queen and her entourage. The Wardens turned on their heels and bowed in her direction and the prisoners knew a moment of judgment was upon them.

The Queen looked upon them with a frown. “Why are they all sitting? I do not wish to stoop down to inspect anyone of them.”
She glided through her mass of subjects to come to a halt behind the Warden Michelle. Their matching poise and posture struck Jasairis immediately, even their looks possessed an unmistakable resemblance. The daughters of Tagainus and royal heirs to royal House Nagasa, in which the blood of Ni’halia’s mortal son, Queliphii, runs deep.

The current ruler of Irothis and all of her holdings, Lady Selyene Kiri Nagasa, silently studied her surroundings with an elegant poise befitting an angel rather than a Queen. Her eyes were a deep dark that he found himself seeping into, neither revolted nor disturbed by the unnatural appearance he beheld.

“Get up, all of you!” Michelle suddenly barked at them, waving forward a number of black masked guards, intent on walking through the small throngs of people and forcefully lifting them onto their feet. People slowly began to stand, the uncertain looks on their faces told Jasairis that many of them were still scared and he couldn’t blame a single soul. He didn’t like his fate being intertwined with any of them, even though the vast majority were probably far more similar than he’d care to realize.

“Honor the Goddess, for you are alive. It is a far better fate than you deserve!” The Queen of Irothis spoke over the commands of Michelle’s aides as they went to work. “Some of you have been rotting in these cells for too long, allowing time to simply pass while you pay your penance. Who among you ask for forgiveness of your transgressions against the state? I cannot yet tell, but you have already given your lives for Irothis behind the iron bars of the cell, proudly sacrificed your own freedom at your own volition with the innumerable crimes you have committed against both kin and country. I thank you for the debt you’ve paid thus far.

Whoever among you may be worthy should be met with reward and luxury in equal measure! I wonder if there are any of you strong enough to claim honor for yourselves. Through your death? Or… perhaps a new life is in order? One that will be taught through discipline and tempered with the balance of inner strength?”

Selyene’s gaze shifted onto those who were literally quaking at the thought of conscription and shook her head disapprovingly. She continued inspecting one enlisted soldier after another, signaling Michelle’s Warden’s to pick out the few that she didn’t like whenever something did not meet her standard. They were going to be returned to their cells.

The Queen pointed to a very lanky woman who had been shivering in the supposedly freezing ventilation. “No, this one will not be strong enough; perhaps we could use her as an aid instead. I need those who also look every part of the soldier; I will accept nothing less in my conscriptions.”

“Blast the Gods, Sister, they’re only convicts, they do not need speeches! So spare them for real men and women!” Michelle grunted and a few of her officers agreed with timely nods.

Lady Nagasa confidently approached another woman who was struggling to see from the considerable gashes just above her eyes. She placed an elegant hand on her forehead, showing her some degree of favor over some of the others. “No, such disunity among men are merely disillusions, aren’t they? For who is realer, the one who goes to war? Or the one who stays to protect those that they love? Are not the two completely important and intertwined?”

“Yes, your highness.” The female convict gave a deep bow, much to Michelle’s displeasure and earned a brief smirk from the eldest of the twins.

“This one shall be one of my new soldiers! I wish to see many of you go with her and protect our lands while my military goes off to war! The highborn of Irothis grow restless and our borders are under threat! The horrors of open war shall soon be unleashed and I, your Queen, possess the power to determine when and where.

If I were not benevolent in my wisdom, Gods sue me; I would pass you onto the altar of law and persecution and leave you to your fate.” The Queen’s face resembled carved stone, hard and unyielding, but allowing herself just one faint smirk. “Yet I am blessed with far greater intellect than my father’s fathers, and those who come long before. Yes, I have seen a greater purpose for you, so look upon your Queen and master with pride and serve me well. For with great promises such as you come great beginnings, followed by even greater rewards.

So I shall make an exception for the best of you who choose to come forward and serve as my right hand. I present each of you with a choice in this matter, forgive the trivial grievances that have befallen you in these past few hours and weigh the decision with that of your mind and not your heart. What I offer is new beginnings and freedom without the leash that binds you and me. See that to take up arms in my name is not another sentence, because the glory I offer is for that of true soldiers no matter the background, race, or birthright of your lineage.”

“Uh,” Selyene spared a glance over her shoulder in the same moment Asuve interrupted her, who looked somewhat dumbfounded, but pressed on through the barrage of stares looking to dethrone her all of a sudden. “What is it that you’re exactly expecting of us? I mean, we can all kill, you could have chosen some random fodder for that purpose. And yet there are only a select few of us here. For example, I heard you were going to task us with hunting down conspirators or enemies of the state.”

“No. All I need are volunteers who are willing to give all for Irothis. That alone should be enough purpose. If that does not appeal to you, then I pray that death comes swiftly for you in the dungeons.”

“I see.”

“So who among you rabble are actually interested, so we’re not out here in the cold all night!” Michelle folded her arms, impatience written clearly on her features as she turned her gaze back and forth amongst the crowd of inmates.
Anathis took up a hand from both Jasairis and Asuve into his own, reassuring them. “Well, best time to get off death row, friend, sign us up!” He raised them up as a few of the more desperate or insanely brave began to answer the call.


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## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

“Here you go. I doubt you own anything of value outside of that jumpsuit, so take these provisions. It’ll keep you tied over until your first pay.” One of the prison guards hefted a black duffle bag over a stainless steel counter, nudging the bag into Jasairis’ arms before waving him along.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” The inmate stepped out of the line of his fellows, slinging the bag over his shoulder and treading out through the glassine push doors of the waiting room into a large lobby.

Anathis was talking with their most recent acquaintance, Asuve, who was responding with some her derisive sniveling. The two of them were at the very rear of two dozen other conscripts, each of them hefting around similar black bags, eagerly awaiting whatever was to come in front of the massive sealed entrance barricaded by a line of heavily armored personnel. “So, getting paid to do this work, eh? Wonder how good it is.”

Jasairis’ expression soured as he regarded a line of Wardens marching past armed with deadly assault rifles. The captives they were herding this time were those who were to be guided back down into the depths of the dungeons. All of them had been found lacking in some way or simply lacked the courage to take up Lady Nagasa’s offer.

Whispers among the guards was that they would be encouraged to take other jobs within the actual prison grounds, of course, nothing as esteemed as becoming a Warden or anything of that nature. But whatever kindness was spared to the repentant was better than most fates many could ever speak of in Kazan. Or Kalin’nos, as Asuve had mentioned, he had never heard the term himself.

Asuve approached him to stand by his side in between him and Anathis, the reassurance in her tone contrasting sharply with her wicked smile. “Don’t worry about them. Keep close to me and they will pay you no heed. I’ve been in the better cells that the Wardens oversee for far longer than you’ve probably ever been here. They’ve grown to respect my good behavior or so they would have me believe, either way, just stay close. I’ll keep you safe. Just pray they don’t decide to take us back to their cells and, you know, have their way with us.”

Uncertain as to what exactly she meant by her tone and words, Jasairis wasn’t certain, so he settled with a slightly disapproving stare to change the conversation. Asuve did not seem upset at the gesture, that evil intent in the glint of her eye that she was attempting hard to suppress fading a bit. She probably had an intelligent guess that it would make him more comfortable. “I’ll be leaving to join some of our newfound comrades, don’t go forgetting my name all at once.”

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I trust her, Anathis.” Jasairis spoke in a soft tone as she stepped out of earshot, watching her as she went to chat with a few other women joining the conscription.

“No surprise there. I mean, can you really after just meeting her?” Anathis surprisingly agreed, though not in the way that Jasairis was expecting. “I mean, you and I, we’re a little different I suppose. We met in a goddamn shower room after all. Point is, we shouldn’t be too hasty in deciding whose worthy of comradeship and whose not. We don’t know any of these people and a lot of them seem to be like you to a large degree. It’s going to have to be more than just the three of us if we’re going to make it out in the world, know what I mean?”

“Sure, but don’t go around just accepting whoever may come along.” Jasairis had to admit to himself, he wasn’t exactly used to chastising conflicting viewpoints. Not through words and friendly advice, at least, things were far better when he answered with his fists against rival inmates who sought to conspire against him. He much preferred the “live and let live” approach to life, but he’d be foolish to apply that to all aspects of advice. “I know you’re not accustomed to the prison cells, but just remember, all of these people are still inmates. Just saying.”

“I suppose we’re both right in a way, Sil,” The Eosan put the argument to rest with his undivided attention elsewhere. “Don’t look now, the soldiers are lifting their barricade.”

Jasairis stood a head or two over most of the convicts locked up in this building and could cast his gaze over all of them without much effort. The black masked guards were indeed peeling away from the main entrance, forming two lines to funnel their new conscripts into the waiting hands of the light winter. A heavily armored Irothian male with his helm cradled in his arms and a shotgun leaning on his right shoulder suddenly came between them and a new life. He hefted his shotgun in the air and fired it once, the bellowing roar causing all of the former prisoners to flinch backwards and fall into a uniform silence all at once.

“Soldiers of Irothis! Or should I say fellow inmates? Please follow my instructions to the letter, for in doing so, everyone will find a much more pleasant time than if they had decided to not hear my words at all! All recruits, inmate or not, there is a letter for each and every one of our volunteers. You should have received them on the way to receive your supplies that will last you till until you enter basic training. As you leave Kazan, you may wish to read them and you should, considering that the Queen herself has written them personally.”

“Hmm… was wondering what these were for.” Jasairis immediately dipped his hand into an neat slit in the bag, feeling something crinkle at his touch. He pulled it free and examined the stained parchment in his hands and slowly began to unravel it.

_Dear Jasairis Sil:

If you are choosing to read this letter, be well aware that it has been of your own volition to come this far into this realm of uncertainties. Allow me to congratulate you on your sense of bravery and wisdom in not only thinking this entire matter through, but seeing the compromise that I’ve strived to bring to those who I may feel have been judged somewhat harshly. Do not fret about the fates of others you may have known that were present in this event today. They will have other options given to them, more paths to take to avoid the executioner’s hand.

Jasairis, if you have listened to anything I’ve said regarding your conscription, then you should know well enough by now that the country of Irothis is preparing for open war. Soon I shall have over ten thousand troops amassing in the Nagasa Province alone and before your training is over, we hope to have that number escalate into twenty thousand men and women pulled from all the provinces of Irothis to serve under my command.
Allow me to congratulate you once more, I am excited to inform you that I’ve personally selected you among a few others for a special project that I’ve been working on with erstwhile allies. Please note that many of the people with you in that room today when I spoke will probably go with you, but the army that I’m preparing will be formed from among experts and the merely talented alike.

I do hope you enjoy your first moments of freedom in Nagasa Province. I would like you to know that I’ve been preparing something special for those who would serve under my command. You should be filled in with more details concerning other trivial, spiritual, and natural issues concerning the Irothian army on your journey.
One last thing for you, Jasairis, I hope you can find solace in your past and reconnect with your loved ones and friends again. Do not forget them, because one day, the war shall become a distant lesson in history and you will need to begin rebuilding your legacy somewhere. Simply keep these things in mind as you advance through your own great trial.

Best of fortune, Ni’halia favor our fervor!

Your Benevolent Empress, Selyene Kiri Nagasa _


A glaring light fell over the newly conscripted inmates, so striking that all of them were raising a wall of hands to their faces as they emerged into the prison courtyards. Massive floodlight fixtures from the high stone towers overlooked the white fields, fixed directly upon them as they were funneled back towards the abyssal places of the palace’s labyrinthine dungeons.

Anathis wrapped his up and stuffed it into his pocket. “Pre-made letters! Who’d have thought we could have missed out on this?”

“I feel like I’m standing on a precipice.” He muttered with no small amount of surprise. His feelings were a fluctuating mess at the moment, what kind of man wouldn’t at nearly receiving his entire life again on a sparkling silver platter? Some lingering memories, once his only link to the outside world had suddenly became woefully irrelevant. In the same moments, others became precious questions that required answering. “I’m trying to remember my home deep in the Uridene. I need to get back there, figure some things out for myself.”


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## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

As you can see, I've finally thought of a new title for the story, lol. I've been wanting to get away from the previous title for a while now, since it kept reminding me of the awfulness that is twilight  . 

So any issues or concerns this far in? I'm just wondering because I'm not entirely sure that I've pulled off the whole thing about Jasairis being hand picked by Selyene or the reason as to why he's particularly important. In fact, I'm still trying to hammer out how I can realistically portray him as someone that is worthy of being chosen. I understand that it's still just conscription, but maybe I can build on this into something satisfying. I'm not trying to show him as a hero, but another pair of eyes in a world where the balance of civilization is decaying. 

I've been really contemplating whether Jasairis and the conscripts should be stationed in Irothis or Rynithia. I'm not too concerned by whether the story arc should be progressing in one place or the other, since I'll have other characters to progress the story through, but maybe the conscripts could help the story develop further in Irothis. 

Just looking for some opinions on what I've got so far  .


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## Dave T Hobbit (Dec 3, 2009)

Firemahlazer said:


> I've finally thought of a new title for the story.


It is a punchy title.


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## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

> It is a punchy title.


Good or bad definition of that word ? No harm done if you meant the latter.


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## Dave T Hobbit (Dec 3, 2009)

I meant catchy.

Not sure if I have ever used punchy as a negative.


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## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

Ah, okay, I'm not familiar with the word, but I saw two different definitions for it so I wasn't sure. The title might be a little too dramatic through, either way, I guess I'll stick to it for now. Thanks:grin:!


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## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

Hmm... I think the second chapter might be going nowhere, may have to retract what I posted up so far and try again. It may have been too soon to take the spotlight off Jasairis and the external conflict as a whole(and I think the story may work out best if he and prison comrades stay in Irothis). 

So I guess I will begin the editing process and see what I come up withk:.

Also, haven't forgotten about The New Word, but I have to focus on one thing at a time :wink:.


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## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

NOTE: I keep trying to outline this out and every time I do, I want to go jump off a cliff . Maybe it's because I'm trying to set up the back story all in one place for myself instead just adding on to it as I go along. Anyway, Chapter 2 hasn't changed, but as you'll no doubt notice, I have begun this chapter in a different perspective, and also added another part in addition to Jasairis' experience on board the Kaltika so far. Hopefully, it'll prove more interesting.


Chapter 2: Revision of Rights
Four Days Later...
Nula 16th of winter
Onboard the I.S. Kaltika: Off the coasts of Irothis on the Unvial Sea.

The current year is 2080 A.H. in the world of Senia and while no civilization probably bore previous resemblances of their ancestors over a millennia ago; tradition, culture, and the history would always be there even after evolution would take its hold. So long as it was actively preserved. He had forgotten about the outside world beyond his prison when he was brought before the court for judgment in 2072. Yet the world would never change in his lifetime as long as the whims of men would laud over all the lands under the inner star.

The more he continued to delve into his studies, the realization began to don far more heavily with each sitting.
Though mankind had not reached a new era beyond their current modern world, Senia would look like a world transitioning straight out of a golden age to the untrained eye. The rulers of nations that held influential sway over in their countries had apparently reached a public opinion bordering on benevolent. Jasairis had never paid any heed at first before his condemnation, though he knew how many spoke in reverent tones about the Sages of the great Conjugation.

Jasairis gently worked his deft hands across a number of pages through A Worldly Status Quo- 2079 Revision. He held the book close to his dim lamp light shining on the center of the desk, occasionally moving the bulb in certain directions to catch the light on otherwise invisible sections of the page. He occasionally thought about going up to the top deck to read, but no doubt it would be full of rough necks and others who would simply bother his concentration.

He could feel the cold steel beneath his combat boots shift slightly under him, swaying him up and down in a strange rocking motion. The Unvial Sea was very pleasant and beautiful in the morning sun, just enough strength in the placid water's waves to slightly challenge his walking abilities. None of the other conscripts seemed at all bothered by the sea voyage either. He could tell that by the heavy snoring emanating from just above his head in the highest bunk.

That was Tallion, a uniquely kind of soul in his politeness, despite him not being one of the chosen inmates sailing with them to Mt. Lannduan. He had a golden hide of skin, gnarled in some places, but inhumanly smooth and hairless in most others. That alone and his long dark olive hair told of his descent from a House among the Darakoi Elves, let alone his narrow, knife-sharp ears.

Tallion would be making the journey with the as-of-yet, disorganized group of free inmates. His actual mission here involved him being directed from his usual activities among the Assassination Squads to aid in the training of conscripts around the frontier to improve the overall defenses of the inner provinces in Irothis. I.A.S. were an organization of Imperial elite dedicated to the defense of the land, usually associated with the more extreme hand of the Empress to work in tandem with her Wardens to keep the realm provinces and rulers in order.

Jasairis wasn't certain why he had been paired up with Tallion in this cramped little cabin. Sergeant Kanii had come by earlier and told him that members of I.A.S. would be dispersed among the convicts until they reached their destined shores. Perhaps it was an extra security precaution, in case a few of the volunteers began to slip somehow.
That aside, Jasairis nudged his glasses farther up his nose and sighed. He stared down fully written page after page, knowing well enough that he needed to be somewhat informed about current world events and history. Being on a ship with nothing to do made it absolutely fine to him, but all the volunteers from the provincial prisons were being forced to research and study all of this shit until it had been drilled into their minds. Kanii had made it perfectly clear that this would only be the very tip of the iceberg.

“So…” Jasairis carefully shuffled through the pages back towards the map in the beginning of the book. He casually absorbed its wealth of information that he would undoubtedly probably need in the future. Mostly, the reason was simply to hold a conversation about something and not come out looking the utter fool.

All the lands of Irothis were a collection of provinces along the southern coasts of the Odessan continent. It was a far flung landmass far off in the western hemisphere, in the central northern regions at that. The country was created through the unification of twenty-three provinces that had been settled by their Sollanian ancestors. A very fragmented place with a strong cultural identity a thousand years ago, until the Valicians had decided to found New Valicia over their sovereign territory in a bloody three century occupation.

The people of Sollan had eventually erupted in revolt in 1032 A.H. during the Ascension of Hinariath I and had successfully
overthrown the juggernaut of medieval civilization from all of their holdings. Despite the valiance shown in the civil war, the Sollanian Confederation had emerged victorious an entirely different people. The two factions involved in the civil war, had slowly undergone the long process of merging their races over the centuries. Of course, being the dominant society, the Valicians welcomed the change as the Sollans began to adopt their features and racial traits. As the remnants of the Sollan race began to wither and give way to extinction, the Valicans eventually began to accept them in a new equal society. The High Monarchs began extending their rights to the lower class by the hundreds, while the higher tiers began to prosper overseas in the homeland of the empire.

The last remaining remnants of the Sollan bloodline soon came into being as the country of Irothis. Today, she is ruled over by the great Empress Selyene Kiri Nagasa and it is a peaceful realm she dwells in now of days. The noble houses that had been established after the civil war still exist today, though they are few in number. Irothis has become a far more diverse country than it had originally been in the past. The elven Darakoi nomads eventually came into conflict with the newly formed nation before being granted rights to settle in the land by Emperor Taiganus himself in 1056 A.H. The Sanctum alliance had seen the angelic races migrate away into neighboring Hailadon, but allowed a prospering friendship between the ebony skinned peoples of the Rynithian Isles who they had warred with. Lastly, though they had been stained with defeat, Valicians never left back for their homeland. Initially, harsh treatment of them threatened to force them out, but with the other wars this sparked with their distant kin, the Irothian Monarchs made it their point to lessen their zealotry in favor of tolerance.

"Shit, I can't be bothered with this anymore. I'll pick up tomorrow." He closed the tome shut and laid it down with half a dozen others on his desk. No sooner than he had did Tallion's ears perk up from behind him.

"If you're finished reading all of that, go get something to eat, new blood!" Tallion suddenly sat upright, slender hazel eyes studied him with no small amount of scrutiny and Jasairis immediately knew that it was an order.

"You've been lounging in here all day, sure you're alright?" Jasairis frowned while his head was turned away, getting up from his chair to stretch his limbs.

"That's sir to you and I won't repeat that, Sil." Tallion watched him on his way out, expertly feigning a pissed off expression until he coaxed a "yes, sir" out of him. He reverted back to not caring after the door slammed shut.


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## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

Just realized that I kind of blundered, since I had forgotten that Illyia had never been directly mentioned after my last edit . While I'm at it, I think I will change Asuve into another uniform of some kind, don't know why I went for the dress in the first place. 

Oh well, these things happen.

EDIT: Okay, after rereading my most recent update, I finally decided to take it down because it wasn't up to snuff(to me anyway). I apologize for all of this backtracking, really my own fault for getting so excited and into this story. I should really go over it a couple of times and allow myself to see what's missing or wrong lore-wise with whatever I come up with. 

Back to the drawing board! 

_Be faithful,
Be vigilant, 
Be strong!_


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## SonOfStan (Feb 20, 2011)

Enjoying what I'm reading so far. It's hard work on my eyes to read on message boards like this, so I've been copying and pasting into Word to make it a little more digestible. :so_happy:


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## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

> Enjoying what I'm reading so far. It's hard work on my eyes to read on message boards like this, so I've been copying and pasting into Word to make it a little more digestible.


Thanks and no problem , feel free to bring up any issues you may have found while reading. I will try to address themk:.

EDIT: Well, I've been experimenting on some outcomes that could play out in the second chapter, had gotten some minor editing done, took me just now to realize that not all it had actually been saved to the document or I had overwritten some changes. I did however manage to post some very minor changes to both the 1st and 2nd chapter, including a little date & time, before I began having problems accessing the forums. However, I think I'll have to postpone the next update for a little while longer.


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## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

NOTE: Just wanted to say that I've realized I've been doing something that may have been confusing people for a while now. I've recently uncovered in a book I'm currently reading, a sort of sequence that dialogue should be following. Apparently, I have a habit of placing dialogue before the initial moments of Feelings/Thoughts & Actions that should lead up to the speech that has already been said. Trying to fix this and making it work will probably take more than a little time, however, I'll keep this knowledge in mind for future posts. You live and you learn.

EDIT: While I say that, it shouldn't necessary for every line of Dialogue, I will attempt to keep it in check though

***

An hour had passed after Jasairis had taken Anathis and Asuve into the mess hall, together they simply conversed and ate with what spare time they had left to fill themselves. When Jasairis finally found his way back to his cabin, lightning was bursting from the seams of the night sky, streaking down towards the sloshing waters of the Unvial. The Kaltiko bulldozed its way through increasingly violent waves despite the tide of rain that still swept the top deck. Whoever the Captain of the ship was, he or she seemed completely undeterred by the fickle change of weather. His attitude must have rubbed off on the crew, since they seemed just as untroubled as if it were just another rainy day.


Tallion was lounging in his seat beside the desk and watching the roiling waves outside the port window. He maintained his usual inverted manner as a sign to not be disturbed. Jasairis couldn’t help but wonder what he may have been recalling to his memory. The way he stared into the waters of the Unvial brought back remembrance of times where he had stared out into the unknown with a similar face.


He ignored his own suspicions, not wanting to give voice to them and keeping them to his own thoughts. He continued to wield the pen in his hands with some surprising amount of skill. He had forgotten his own handwriting for the longest, but the technique of the Ishalnite priestesses remained true to form with every stroke.

_ “Dear Noah, Karliah, and Sarahni Sil:_

_ Time has not been still these past couple of weeks and it has not been long since your words last came to me in the dungeons of Kazan. I was far too bound by my overseers to give much response. I don’t think you’ve been expecting one at all for sometime now, at least by my hand, but some official letter pertaining to my inevitable death in the name of justice._

_ I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on the decisions that had led me on this long road and recently, I’ve had even more time to meditate on other aspects of my life. You will not be able to reach me for a while longer after you receive the news that I am passing off to you. I think the wait for all us will become equally unbearable._

_ If you’ve been keeping an eye on the news, then you should know it’s the truth. I am a pardoned man. The Queen herself has looked into my own case and has overturned the sentence of death that has so far persisted over the eight years I’ve been here._

_ While Sarahni may guess at the meaning behind my sudden release, I know you, mother and father, may already know the truth to the fullest extent. You can believe in that, the conscription has not taken only me, but quite a few willing to risk their necks for another chance to live again._


_ The irony isn’t lost on me, now being bound to serve in another aspect of tyrannical law, but perhaps I’m simply ranting now. I suppose I should be grateful -even after serving my time- to those who somehow made this possible. Noah & the rest, you know I was never one to spill another’s blood, but my charges demand the death of others in my stead. I’ll speak honestly, I don’t see any way to avoid the brunt of this. The choice was mine and now I’m lining up with a number of unknowns with very similar burdens looming over them. Hell, Karliah, I think I’ve inherited more of your legacy than you would have intended, but I’ll do my best out here to uphold the family name._

_ Rumors have been running rampant around here lately, word is that we’ll be sent home at some point in the near future for a couple of weeks. I’m looking forward to an official announcement, probably after we’re shortly organized in Nim’thalis. Don’t know what else needs to be done, but I’m guessing that by the time you receive this letter I will likely be on my way towards the Uridene Basin. The family still makes residence there last I checked, in Ludranna, so that is where I’m going. Until then, take care of yourselves._
_ -Your one and only son and brother, Jasairis Sil _​

Tallion always had a thin smirk about him that promised mischief. It was not threatening, but it was always looking triumphant for seeing trouble where it should not be. Jasairis did not care, he assumed it was an Elvish thing. “You’re a very lucky man, Sil. To see your family again and all that you’ve missed in your time in retention is enough to see a man reborn into something new. I hope you will be content for the rest of your days with such happiness.”


“The brass pay you to spew that shit to all the new-comers forced into this war?” Jasairis found himself laughing at the Darakoi’s words, only a little to ease the tension between them. He folded the letter and quickly tucked it into an envelope. “To hear you say that makes me suspect you’re also homesick.”


“Why would that be?” Tallion asked. “Darakoi can be found in every human settlement in Irothis. I even have a cousin on this ship and she’s as battle hardened and highly ranked as me before you get any wise ideas.”


Jasairis surmised with a serious stare as Tallion’s smile was struck from his face. “They don’t sound like your immediate kin and you sound more than a little disdained at the prospect of Elves in a modern city life. You must be from Avaani, it’s mainly a Darakoian populace and isn’t clogged with burgeoning cities.”


That predictable grin was on the elf again. But this time Jasairis could tell that there was something more genuine in his words. “It has been a couple of years. I’ll be the first to admit that. I’m from a small coastal town off the Golden Sea. Never thought my love of playing hard with rules and regulations would bring me into an elite military branch. I’ve learned much since then, especially from my time living in Dayashora. Been there nearly all of my life. Still live their actually.” Tallion waited till Jasairis gave his shrug of acceptance. “I’ve spent over a quarter of my fifty years growing up in academies and studying the ways of law, then politics, and finally-” Tallion tapped a pair of fingers on his cranium. “I came to learn about handling such things through action. Both warfare and minor conflict.”


“You’re fifty?” Jasairis looked the perceivably young elf over, he looked like he was in his early twenties at best.


“I’ve seen colleagues grow old and die during my career, unless they are in some way Elven in origin. Our kind do much to prolong human lives as is currently possible. Quite a wasteful task if you ask me, but it is practiced by legends none-the-less.”


“When being paid a sum that could buy a small country annually, I don’t doubt anything less of any surgeon or doctor.”


“Indeed.” Another grin was on Tallion’s lips, he was beginning to open himself up before he realized it.

“You sound as if you may come from such a way of living, huh? Must be a desperate soul if you’ve fallen so far.”


“I do not come from a very prosperous family, but we make do well enough.” Jasairis reclined in his chair as far as was able, a few inches at most. “You?”


“I have long been ripped of my choice to speak of my family’s past.” Tallion remained polite, but stern on his words. “Thus my tongue chooses to remain silent even if I can speak freely. Earn trust and I may tell you one day.”


“I don’t ever plan on seeing you once I step foot off this ship.” Honesty was probably the best solution than outright avoidance.


“Perhaps, but once the training has begun you will probably catch me somewhere or another inside the outpost. The base isn’t very large, that’s why we’re splitting you conscripts around the country. Just the luck of the straw that you’ve been given Remeroleth.”


“Very coincidental.” Jasairis agreed.


“Not as much as you may think.” The Darakoi gave a derisive snort. “Everyone on this ship was in Kazan during you and your friend’s sudden redemption by the Queen’s orders. That includes all the security, I would’ve probably been headed wherever they deign to send your group of prison mates.”


“A comforting thought.” Jasairis grimaced at the thought and yet what were the odds he would have received another watcher far worse than a lazy soldier elite? He didn’t see much thought in thinking about it.


There was suddenly a knock at the door.


Armored fists beat against cold metal in a deafening noise loud enough to rouse both Tallion and Jasairis out of their conversation. A monotonous rhythm vibrated heavily against the metal surface, without a doubt causing a disturbance for anyone nearby.


“Ni’halia’s decimating plagues! The hell is this guy?” Tallion motioned for Sil to remain in his seat. He slid out of his chair and quickly glided over towards the pressure door. In that moment both of them realized how overkill it was as the Darakoi began the process of noisily removing the lock setting the door slab in place.


Slowly but surely, the cabin entrance slid backwards and let their unknown guests make introductions.


“Goddess above! Sergeant Tallion Vearthun, call me damned at the sight, haha!” Jasairis craned his head and leaned outward to get a better look at the woman standing out in the halls of the ship. She was dressed in black silk robes tucked under a hakama, something off duty Wardens favored when off the job when they were still on their territorial grounds. Her skin was pale as snow and her eyes a dark violet, nothing out of the ordinary in Irothis save the long, pent up pony tail of blonde hair. She didn’t look like a typical officer, because she lacked the physique of one used for defending against and prodding around criminals. Lithe and serious, she was probably full of herself with arrogance. “I apologize for the sudden disturbance- uhh, sir. The Brass had told me to wait until we made our way back to the city Dayashora, but I thought “Wouldn’t company be so much more appreciated during some decent Irothian weather?” With a not a thing in the world for us to do but stare out into the ocean no less?”


“I see someone here believes so, Sarah Laeliss Mevrace, you’re soaked to your boots.” Tallion grimaced. “Guard duty on top-deck must be so depressingly boring if you’ve come all this way just to seek me out. That aside, if our superiors told you wait until these convicts were sorted and sent on their little vacation then you probably should have listened to them. Had I been anyone else I have may have actually cared.”


The woman named Sarah immediately snapped to attention and put a fist to her chest. “Apologies, sir. I just couldn’t wait until then- I mean- it’s been over a year since I’ve last seen you.” One look over and she took in a wealth of information about him already. “By the Gods of this world. I witness someone who does not know what it means to age. Same could be told to your cousin, Lassun.”


“Time is always kind to one such as myself.” Tallion waved off the compliment lamely and stepped back from the door. “However, it is great to see again, Sarah. I’ve heard of some of your feats back in Dithran, quite the detective I’ve heard you’ve become, come in, make yourself at home in my quaint little hovel in the world.”


“Gladly, Tallion. I hope you don’t mind if I stop with the formal pleasantries.” Sarah took one step into the cabin before catching Jasairis in her gaze. He tried to look as ordinary as possible with a rather large book in his hands.


“Hail there, friend. Are you this Elf’s new trainee?” She gave off a polite smile as she drew Jasairis’ attention.


“Not exactly, unless you count the prison wards for potential recruits.” He put it as bluntly as he could, people like her would be able to sniff out lies with their overwhelming sense of suspicion. “You don’t seem like a recruit yourself, miss.”


“You would be quite right-uhh, I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.” She put on a friendly voice, but was completely offset by her eyes immediately narrowing with a not too subtle darkness.


“Sil. Jasairis Sil.” Her sudden open hand gesture took the inmate by surprise, but Jasairis hid it with a mirror politeness and took it.


“Sarah Laeliss Mevrace at your service.” She bowed with an arm tucked under her waist. “You must feel very fortunate earning your life back. I’m happy for you.”


“It was hardly earned, just given back.” Jasairis went back to scanning his book with pretending eyes.


“Lady Selyene Nagasa is one of the wisest Monarch’s in her bloodline. Her wisdom has guided you here, so do take care not to squander it with such an undeserving attitude.”


“I am in her debt. No one can doubt that now.” Jasairis shrugged off her words like warm water, nothing deserving a response evoked from other ends of the scale.


“You still haven’t mentioned the reason you’ve come, Sarah.” Tallion hissed quietly in Jasairis’ direction, turning back to his acquaintance and gesturing to a seat beside the desk.


“When I heard you were being hired on for the Conscription training, I thought I’d volunteer for security on board the Kaltika. There isn’t much brewing in Dithran since we’ve stamped out some forms of corruption there, I’ve actually been thinking of applying for a transfer. So I’m just traveling across the Nagasa province for any place that draws interest, however, on this occasion I thought I’d use some free time to sate my curiosity on what you’ve become over the last year. Last I saw you, you were playing the part of rogue soldier painting the streets of downtown Dithran in blood.”


“Well deserved rest is essential to the work I do,” Tallion said, he leapt up into his bunk and laid himself down. “Teaching some new recruits how to wield weapons and work in a proper force is an undesired change, but alas, don’t do it and find yourself being relieved for a while.”


“True enough, old friend.” Sarah examined the assortment of sturdy tomes stacked upon one another and looked Jasairis up, smiling. She had easily drawn the conclusion. “The long road concerning knowledge is a long one, but one should never underestimate what he or she may already know. For the road is shorter- perilously shorter, I might add- for those who have lived to see a myriad of mistakes and built themselves over each of them.


Also Tallion,” Sarah suddenly rose as if suddenly reminded of something important. “I’ve come to take Jasairis to see the Consul Qelrun Niybthalis. He would desire some words with this one, as he’s been taking the opportunity discussing more personal matters with this first wave of convicts. To what end, I haven’t stuck my nose far enough in to see.”


“You’re the one the officials have going rounding up everyone? I didn’t know you were an envoy of the Consul of the Niybthalis House on top of everything else.” Tallion rolled over in his bed with disinterest. “He must be courting you for your services, I suspect. Here I was believing you wanted to stir up trouble back in Dayashora City with your old friend. It makes no difference to me I suppose.”

Sarah quickly reopened the sealed door and stepped through, beckoning for her new inmate to follow in her footsteps. She looked back to Tallion a final time and parted ways with a dignified bow. “Don’t worry about any of this politicking, by the time your training sessions with the volunteers are over I’ll be back prowling on city limits. Come now, Sil, throw on your uniform to look presentable. I’ll be outside waiting.”


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## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

The Kaltika was a maze of narrow passages and sterile lights, all twisting and turning into locked and occupied rooms or sealed off sections leading deeper into the ship. Unfamiliar faces haunting the lower cabins regarded them curiously, their expressions a variation between unkind and strangely amused. A few paces down the way toward the mess hall saw murmuring prisoners morph into a new kind of monstrosity: the Wardens’ lodgings.

Jasairis couldn’t shake the feeling of being paraded around even without the handcuffs, chains, or shackles around his wrists and ankles. They didn’t have much more than conscripts to preoccupy their time onboard a ship, massed in small groups outside their cabins and speaking about the most trivial things. Their conversations were muddling together far too much to glean anything coherent. A vast majority paid him no heed, but the tension on his and their own nerves indirectly betrayed their facade of not trying to.

An exasperated sigh later did the ex-inmate crane his head in Sarah’s direction. Judging the few moments they had spent together, it was something she tended to do a lot. “You want one, Sil?” His Warden suddenly had a cigarette pack dangling in her hands and a stick in between her lips. “Straighten your erratic nerves out a little, you look like you’re about to freak.”

The inmate waved away her offer. “Took you long enough to notice, but I don’t smoke. You could have, however, offered to take me through another route. There’s a lot of bad memories on this one.”

Sarah tried not to look annoyed shouldering her way through a throng of her fellow men and women, inhaling and exhaling that cloud of murky grey one just couldn’t miss. “Be best if you forgot all about it then, if you’re looking for advice. You know they’re not going to bite you now that you’re under the national banner? So just ease back on that tense-o-meter of yours, breathe in and relax. You always hold grudges like this?”

“Occasionally.” Came his quip and Sarah gave him a hard look. “It’s not like I’m plotting revenge on my worst enemies or anything, so you can stop glaring at me like I’m some psychopath.”

Ni’halia just damn my luck, all of it, for being paired with this masochistic ass. She put a damper on her thoughts. “Not many can see that through your brazen & depressing attitude.” Her tone was both honest and snide. Jasairis couldn’t put a finger on how much he appreciated the honesty. “Which is all I’m learning about in this discussion. No one’s trying to stab you in the back or judge you, Jasairis. The sooner you learn that, the better chance you’ll come out of this. Both alive and not a vengeful psychopath, that’s a win-win in my book.”

Sarah had managed to prevail her opinion over her charge-in-escort and the conversation came to an abrupt close. The farther they came through the bustle of the Wardens’ lodgings did Jasairis still feel a pair of eyes on him every now and again. He finally traded gazes with his escort and caught her by surprise, reflected in her enlarging eyes. She suddenly looked apologetic and shook her head. “You know, I think you’re smart Jasairis, but I have to question this little relationship you have going on in the background here with that shady woman of yours. I mean you could only have just met each other in the span of a couple days at most and it’s far beyond a breach of conduct.”

The realization of her words processed quickly, leaving him dumbfounded rather than puzzled. He watched her intently, looking for signs of something else she was trying to imply. Sarah’s look was all serious and steadfast. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, Ms. Sarah, and I kind of don’t want to know.”

Jasairis meant to restart their walking in the right direction when he realized they had both stopped absently at Sarah’s confrontation, but Sarah suddenly leapt into his path. “Why even try to avoid this, Jasaris? You don’t even know where you’re going!”

“Are you really supposed to be taking me to see the Consul?” Jasairis was already pointing suspicious fingers in her direction with his wild accusation, nothing made Sarah want to burst out laughing more. “Because it really sounds like you’re beginning to bullshit me. The hell did you even hear that?”

Sarah’s violet eyes glinted with dark amusement, placing her hands on her hips as if she had already kicked Jasairis off his high tower. How worth it would it be to divulge that kind of information? Of course there was next to know value in what the lady’s words, but I kind of like seeing him so… far from his comfort zone. She continued to absorb his expecting stare for a moment longer and finally relented. “Fine, fine. If you must know, I learned of it through one of the other prisoners I lead through here. Some Valician lass, pretty little thing, people like her aren’t cut out for the sort of things she mired in. She knows of you, obviously, and told me she thinks there is something really special about you.”

Asuve’.

Sarah’s triumphant glare noticeably faltered in the wake of Jasaris’ rather pleasant laughter, who was busy holding his face in the palm of his hand. “Gates of Hell take me! Asuve’, are you serious? What does that even mean!? She could have meant a dozen other more believable things than that, barring whatever you’ve took from your conversation!”

The Warden gently weaved a hand into her hair while she stood a little humbled, but undefeated. In fact her eyes were alight now more than ever now that her intrigue stoked her own thinking. “Interesting, but she doesn’t know your qualities or ill reputes at all. However, if she’s not seeing you then, Goddess knows what she was trying to imply. Never mind, Sil, apologies for even bringing in that up. Look, let’s ju-”

The world Jasairis had been living in for the past couple of days suddenly became a great deal umbral and unlit. Everything powered by main generators had suddenly been killed in a heartbeat and in that moment, his heart skipped with it. Sarah’s weight was suddenly felt beside him with only the glowing tip of her cigarette visible, he could feel her breaths grazing his shoulder and hear a hand being placed blindly on a holster. For the space of few long seconds, only the rumblings and bellows of the storm outside were heard. No questions or sudden panic, only an uneasy quiet.

He shouldn’t panic if no else would, right?

A long burst of static echoed through the utter blackness, followed by a whine of powering systems coming back online. The deep dark they were stuck in was doused in a dull red and there was a chorus of relieved statements from those further back the way they came.

Sarah must’ve realized how close she was and side stepped out of her charge’s immediate reach. She left her gun in her holster, but looked more than a little threatened. “That was definitely not usual, Jasairis.”

Jasairis meant to shrug when a keen wailing siren suddenly came through the speakers, threatening to defean him on whole other level.

“This is not a drill, this not a drill. All hands, general quarters. All hands, general quarters. All non-essential personnel, be advised, lockdown begins in 1800.”

“That still doesn’t explain why we’re on backup generators,” Sarah was suddenly pushing Sil back in the opposite direction, back toward the cabins. “By the Gods, I hope this is just a precaution, never thought I’d get into some trouble sailing off the coast of Irothis.”

Jasairis couldn’t hide his grimace pushing his way through the dispersing groups of Wardens, their expressions as puzzled and concerned as Sarah’s. He had to shift the conversation to something else. “You’re knowledgeable about ships?”

Sarah’s bubbly laugh was worth the effort. “Ni’halia’s raven, no! Don’t listen to me, I’m being dumb and unnerved right now. I’m just going off hunches. But that being said, we should run back down to your cabin and stay out of everyone’s way. If something does happen, at least I’ll be beside a friend like Tallion through it all. I suppose an extra body like you wouldn’t hurt as well. Do you even know how to use a weapon?”

More than a couple of people turned their heads at her question, all eyes on the half Rynithian conscript trying maneuver through them. None-the-less, he pondered and answered,“My skills have dulled over the eight years, but the basics do come back to me. I don’t think things would resort to that anyway, look at all the guards on this ship and you’re one of them.”

“I am a peace keeper of the law,” She replied rather haughtily, “not a combatant and none of these other people you see are either. Don’t expect any of them to lift any fingers for you unless you’re getting out of hand, unless worst comes to worst and someone orders us to defend our charges.”

“By charges I suppose you mean us “volunteers”, huh? Good to know you’ll have our backs, officially anyway, when the worst does indeed come to worst.”

Perhaps that was a poor choice of words, Sarah. The Warden told herself quickly. People like him need to know who to trust when it comes to lives being at risk. “Jasairis, those like Tallion and I will be at your back far more than you can count on your fellow acquaintances in jail. Look…” The inmate glanced over his shoulder when her feet stopped. Good, she was holding his attention. “When you get into trouble, try to find Tallion or me before you go to anyone else and do something stupid alright? I don’t plan on being in that outpost outside of Ludranna for long, but I kind of feel like I owe that to you since I wrongly accused you in that previous argument. So while I’m here and you’re not training, come by my office -I’ll have Tallion show you and I’ll see if I can teach you a few things myself. Conscription is hardly a career after all, it’ll be gone when the war ends and things become more stable.

And don’t say anything, you don’t have to say a word right now! I don’t want here your smart remarks or anything like a rejection. Just take some time and contemplate on the offer. You’ll know when you’re ready.”

To his credit, the edge of his lip rose into a smirk, the first to look anything genuine.

“I’ll think about that.”


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## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

EDIT: Made changes to a portion of the 1st Chapter, where Michelle and Selyene talk about the fate of prisoners.

Well, I think the time has come to finally bring this to a close. I was planning on stopping this when I finished the 2nd Chapter, but I think I achieved mainly what I wanted to. Wasn't much action in this so far, I know, but I wanted to hold on that until I could sort some other things out. There's still some work to be done on what I have so far and newer ideas that I've come up with, I still don't know if I should take some of the more cliche' fantasy elements out and make it more realistic, but I think I'll work through that on my own. 

I do want to thank everyone who have taken the time to read this with their own free time, whoever that maybe:grin:. 

Now I leave you with one my favorite 40k quotes ever:

_"Yes it is true what you may have heard whispered amongst the catacombs betwixt the night and nether-night! Why not say it out loud for all to hear. Let the fools doubt and sneer, it matters not. Be proud of your humanity and keep it unsullied and blessed.

This is as my Master told it to me and now I tell it to thee.

There are a billion names of damnation! A billion kinds of things that slither and slime and defile the land and sea and wind. Each thing is a kind of sin spawned by man's evil. And that man is very sinful there are many of these damned things and their power is great.

As the purpose of all things in nature is to increase so it is with the damned. They would we joined them and so they seek to overcome us. In alien forms they assault us. In sleep they come to us to spread doubt and fear amongst us. They would corrupt our hearts and see us damned too. Trust them not nor suffer them to live.

For each alien destroyed is a soul freed from eternal bondage. Each mortal alien life is a human one raised to glory. Thus our eternal destiny is written in the blood of the alien.

With sword and spear destroy the alien. With cannon shot and gun blast smash the alien. With lasers and searing plasma scatter the alien to the stars. With tooth and fist and hammer blows, with axe and shell and poison-bombs, with virus-charge and thermal mines... Kill them... Kill them... Kill them all!

As my Master told it to me now I tell it to thee that thou shalt tell others in thy turn."
_​


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