Fallen Kingdom The Role Play Game

[TheJester]

In the world of Aretha lies what was once a kingdom beyond imagination. The kingdom was known as Unigarond. Legend has it that the city was beautiful in nature, and its people happy and healthy. The city was heaven to those who lived in it. However, somewhere forgotten and lost in history, the city fell. Legends tell that the last king of Unigarond, Resputan The Great, sealed himself away with the kingdom. The giant island where the kingdom once lay became enshrouded in a black mist for thousands of years.

Recently, however, things have changed. For some unexplained reason, the mist that covered the island has lifted, and the island is open to entry again.The three giant kingdoms of Aretha, Athenon, Sparton, and Olympion, have gathered forces in order to explore the island.

The Spartons are a proud warrior race. These men would rather die than surrender and have been know for their hatred of Athenon. When the king of Sparton, Golong VI, found out about the lifting mist of the Fallen Kingdom, The king rallied his forces to begin an expedition. He felt that by awakening the sealed king of Unigarond by, as legend tells it, finding a lost stone in the island that will awaken him in his tomb, he could gain power over the island and defeat Athenon once and for all. Unlike many other countries, the Spartons cling very hard to their belief that awakening the lost King will save them and rebuild the world anew.

The Athenons are a scholarly race, a gathering of knowledge seekers and public intellectuals. Their archers and soldiers are well known for their accuracy and their navy is the largest in Aretha. When the democratic government of Athenon learned of the lifting mist in Unigarond, they felt that by gathering the riches left untouched on the island, they could give Athenon prosperity for another 4oo years.

The Olympions are a race of humanoid creatures very unlike the Spartons and Athenons, who are all human. Their country is run by a theocracy, a country controlled by its belief. The Olympions believe that they are the descendants of the Unigarondian people and when they heard of the lifting mist, they prepared their forces and missionaries to take the island and reclaim what they feel is their homeland.

The Spartons load their cavalry with cargo and other such things. The Athenons have loaded their ships to the brim with food, supplies, and navigators. The Olympions prepare in the same fashion as the Spartons, loading their supplies aboard caravans and sending their armies out to the island.

These kingdoms know that once they reach the island they may have to fight armies from the other kingdoms, but pride is a symbol among each of them, and they are prepared to give their all for control of the island.

-----------------

"How much farther until we reach the Fallen Kingdom?" One of the Sparton soldiers eagerly asked the king.

"Not much farther. We need to reach the bridge and cross before those dirty Athenons do." Golong had seen many things in his life, wars, battles, debates, but seeing the Fallen Kingdom was something he and his ancestors only dreamed of doing. His goal and mindset were simple: find the legendary stone, awaken the lost king, and revive the ancient kingdom of Unigarond. He could finally defeat the wretched Athenons and be rid of them for good with the power he would then possess.

Miles away on the bridge opposite that of the Spartons, the Olympions were preparing to rebuild their broken pathway with magic.

"Ridiculous how long this is taken, isn't it? Have the Sacred Ones nothing better to do than debate about how to go about rebuilding it?" Gale looked at the bridge with agitation. He was a minor soldier working in the force. He had a wolf's face and was known for his temper. The Sacred Ones were debating on what form of magic to use in order to make the bridge rebuild faster, but their bickering wasn't helping very much.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed Gale's shoulder. It was his friend Damien. Damien had a duck's face with a duck's tail. He looked at Gale with seriousness.

"Watch yourself Gale, The Sacred Ones will lead us to salvation through the rebuilding of the island. Patience is a virtue."

Gale was unconvinced, but he decided that ceding would be better than debating. He looked at Gale with stubborn eyes.

"I know that, but paradise forbid I get a little agitated."

A long way away from both kingdoms, the Athenon fleet was heading straight for the island.

"HEYO! Pick up the baggage over here!" Carlmono was an impatient naval officer, but he was second in command to the captain. He looked at the captain with doubtful eyes.

"Captain, how do we know that there will be any treasure here? It could just be an island with trees and such!"

The captain glanced at his Naval officer with a condescending and mirthful look.

"Boy, do you honestly think this is just about treasure? There is a lot more going on than you think."

Carlmono looked at the captain in confusion. "Wh-What do you mean? Isn't that the whole damn reason we came here?"

The Captains once happy look turned sour as he looked over the horizon.

"Once we reach those shores battle will ensue, the conflict brewing between us and the Spartons has boiled over. With the island being discovered and such, it has now become apparent that we can no longer just sit around and watch as the Spartons take the island. War was going to come eventually."

Carlmono looked at the captain with depressed eyes. In his heart, he know the captain was right, but he didn't want to believe it. He walked along the deck as he looked over the bows.

Suddenly he heard shouts and yells under the ship. Carlmono rushed down to the bows and went into the deck. He grabbed one of the sailors and shook him for answers.

"What the blazes is going on!?" Asked Carlmono.

"The mercenaries started the fight sir." Said the weary sailor.

I knew we should never have hired them.

Carlmono then proceeded to try and break up the fight.

(NOTE: This game does not start until Sicon post's. Please do not post until he makes the first post. Thank you.)

[Sicon112]

BGM: Umineko no Naku Koro Ni OST: Sakutarou's Adventure

The dark haired man strolling happily along through one of the almost claustrophobic hallways within the bowels of the Athenon flagship was, at first glance, a bum. There really was no sugar-coating it. His dully colored, tattered haori and broken straw hat, combined with his sloppy imitation of a samurai pony-tail gave him an almost physical aura that seemed to scream "look at me, I'm a hobo!", or it would have if there was an actual linguistic equivalent to that word in this world, which, unfortunately, there wasn't. Of course, if you were to actually bring up his appearance to him, Setsuna, for that was his name, would vehemently insist that he was a "ronin" between jobs. Or at least, that's what he would have said a few days ago, before an acquaintance of his had rather violently dragged him into this mess. Literally dragged, actually. He frowned a little at that thought, then wandered on, quietly humming something discordant that, to his mind, apparently harmonized with the creaking of the ship around him.

As he approached a turn in the passageway that led, if he remembered correctly, to the cargo hold - or was it the disco room? Wait, did they even have one of those? - his head twitched sideways for a second, then he continued merrily on his way, rounding the bend and slamming into the unfortunate crew member bearing a load of supplies for the galley. The results were catastrophic. For the crew member, that is. Setsuna stumbled and wobbled about absurdly, but somehow never actually fell, though it seemed almost certain that he would more than once. The poor crewmember, however, ended up covered in flour and grape jelly. "Oh my, I'm so sorry. Are you alright? More importantly, why did that crate have both flour and... uh, is this grape jelly?"

Now, to understand what happens next in this tale, one must be familiar with a few background elements. First of all, Setsuna was a Sparton, and this was an Athenon military ship. Second, Spartons do not really like Athenons, and the feeling is quite mutual. Of course, Setsuna wasn't exactly a normal Sparton, but that didn't mean his shipmates appreciated his presence any more. In fact, for the past few days of sailing, they had been looking for an excuse to show the chipper mercenary his place. He had just clumsily handed them that excuse on a gold platter with a cheery smile upon his face.

Now, back to Setsuna. While we have been away, our hero has somehow managed to get himself in an even more unfortunate position than before, as he is now standing in the center of the cargo hold/disco room - he still wasn't entirely sure which it was - surrounded by several irate crewmen. This, however, has not at all dampened the smile on his face, and a debate could be made that he did not actually even understand the situation he was currently in, a debate only strengthened by his next actions. "Wow, there's quite a lot of you Athenons down here! Were you planning on having a party here or something? Isn't that a little hasty? Land hasn't even been sighted yet!"

Taken aback by his apparent total ignorance, the crewmembers paused for a moment. The first one to speak was the unfortunate that was still bearing the extremely sticky evidence of Setsuna's 'accident'. "Wha- Enough of this! We're sick of you Spartons making fun of our countrymen! You act so smug because you got hired by the Council to act as vanguard, and you've been walking around like you own the place! It's time you got reminded exactly who you answer to, Sparton reject!"

"Actually the proper term is ronin. You know, wandering samurai and all that?" Setsuna smiled disarmingly. "And you should probably go take a bath. It can't be pleasant to be covered in that stuff. By the way, why was grape jelly in the same box as flour again?" His only response was an incoherent scream of rage as the tormented crewman finally snapped, leaping forward to try and punch the enraging grin off the self-proclaimed ronin's face. Shouting with surprise, Setsuna hopped backwards and to the side, his elbow awkwardly hitting the hilt of his katana, sending the metal cap on the end of his scabbard flying up into the solar plexus of a soldier approaching from behind to hold him in place. "Yikes! Careful there! That stuff all over you must be making it hard to walk right. You should go get cleaned up before you trip again and seriously hurt someone." The man dived at Setsuna, seeming, to the ronin's confusion, to be even more enraged than before. Of course, Setsuna quickly stumbled out of the way, accidentally slapping a third man in the face with his wildly waving hands. Calling a quick apology to the man beside him, who was now holding his bleeding nose and shouting something muffled by his hands that sounded like extremely creative curses, he turned back to the first crewman, now sprawled on the floor before him. "If you need some help standing up correctly, I would be happy to give you a hand, except that grape jelly would probably be pretty hard to get out of my haori. Perhaps you can ask one of your friends for assistance?" It was at this moment that the man Setsuna had hit with his sheath doubled over and collapsed atop the enraged, jelly covered sailor. "Oh my, he looks sick! One of you guys should probably help him!" Giving an exclamation of dawning comprehension, Setsuna hit his fist on his palm as though he had deciphered a great mystery. "Ah! I know! Maybe he was allergic to grape jelly!"

He ducked under a punch from the man whose nose he had broken and stepped backward clutching his hat as the sailor passed on the favor to his fellow, who had been about to jump Setsuna from the opposite side. "Hey, guys, watch the hat now! I know it's a really great piece of headgear, but it's also very delicate! You may want to try it on, but you can't just go grabbing at it!"

It was at that moment that a loud, rather annoyed female voice echoed through the hold, just as the second in command came barging through the door on the other end. "SETSUNA!"

Spinning, his goofy grin still in place, Setsuna's scabbard swung wildly out behind him again and decked the two remaining crewmen, who had just at that moment been turning to attack him once more. "Yes, Raivisa?"

(This scene shall be quickly continued by myself, Qara and Jester, as soon as Qara shows back up.)

[AMimsyBorogove]

Toss. Toss. Creak. Creak. The assassin idly tossed the apple into the air yet again, allowing himself to sink into the bed of hay beneath him. Granted, the cart upon which he was currently riding had originally just been meant to carry feed for the many horses of the Sparton expedition, but it made a fine enough bed, albeit an itchy one. Even through his ridiculously over the top layers of clothing, he could still faintly feel the prickling of the stiff hay beneath him.

What... a pain... Neiross thought, shutting his eyes and catching the apple in his gloved hand. They could at least have arranged for a more comfortable transport. Like one with cushions. Or a roof. Ah, damn, that sun is so bright, and that left wheel and its incessant creaking every fifth rotation is driving me mad. Maybe I should move to a different cart... No, that's too much of a bother. They'd probably just make me do something if I actually got up, anyway. Ah, what a pain. I can't even sleep like this. Cracking a tired azure eye open, Neiross gazed down blankly at the apple in his hand, like he was trying to consume it with his mind without actually having to move at all. Well, actually, that wasn't just "like" what he was doing, that was exactly what he was doing.

I suppose I should eat this, He thought tiredly. But I'd have to take off my mask. I'd have to use... buckles. Besides, if I take it off, I'll probably just get hay in my mouth. Not... worth it. He sighed, and tossed the apple once more, shutting his eyes, only to be met with a sudden cry of surprise and pain from above. "Hmm?" He mumbled aloud, squinting as a shadow fell across his vision, only to find his eyes met with an angry pair of hazel ones, one of which was only just opening again as a hand fell across the white skin just above it. Long, chestnut hair fluttered in the breeze, its serenity clashing greatly with the wrathful expression of the face of its fuming owner.

"Oh," The assassin mumbled. "It's you. You should be more watchful of where you're going. A lack of awareness could end up allowing an arrow to hit you instead of an-" He was abruptly cut by an armored boot to the gut, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He raised an eyebrow, nonplussed. "It's rude to interrupt people," He added, sounding just a little bit miffed over his overwhelming apathy. The young woman standing over him, her flowing scarlet raiments sweeping out around her like a storm cloud, simply gave him a glare that, he mused, probably was the closest thing he'd ever seen to a lethal look. "Oh? You seem angry about something. You should really relax, or else all that stress might make your hair turn w-" Once again, a steely foot digging into his solar plexus cut him off, and he gave a somewhat annoyed expression. "No, seriously, stop doing that. It's becoming rather troublesome."

"What. Are. You. Doing...?" The young officer hissed. Neiross could swear that he saw an aura of fire burning around her as she spoke, trying in vain to maintain the composure she'd already lost long ago. Oh, dear. It seems she's angry. I suppose this means I won't be able to get my nap. Damn.

"Well," he replied calmly, tossing the apple again. The woman standing over him gave a cry of surprise and rage, ducking backward as the fruity projectile nearly struck her in the face again. For her efforts, however, she was only rewards by tumbling head-over-heels into a pile of hay. Neiross was content to ignore the scream of rage emanating from the grass across from him, and simply caught his fruit, lounging against the railing of the cart. "I believe what I was doing should be obvious. I was just trying to get my early afternoon nap."

"Your WHAT?!" His rather livid conversational partner roared, equal parts disbelief and fury painting themselves across her features. Oh, my. What a frightening face. It's almost as frightening as manjuu. I mean seriously, who makes a desert pastry that's like a giant insect egg, anyway? And that gruesome jelly filling... It's like biting into a- His train of thought was, however, interrupted by another furious kick at his gut as his rather temperamental employer rose suddenly from the hay across from him, lashing out as she was ought to. This time, the assassin actually bothered to casually roll out of the way, and his rather troublesome assailant's armored boot instead simply took a rather large chunk out of the side of the cart. She stumbled, overstepping herself, and falling out of the slowly moving wagon, landing flat on her face by the side of the road. A certain apple dropped out of the air and landed on her head a few moments later.

"Oh. Are you alright? More importantly, did you manage to catch my apple?" Neiross asked, slowly standing and sliding his now empty hands into his pockets. He watched sadly as the apple rolled slowly across the ground, and was promptly stomped into tiny pieces by the hooves of the horse pulling the next cart down. "How unfortunate. I was hoping to eat that. Probably," Neiross sighed sadly, and dropped from the cart. He supposed he could have actually raised one of his hands out of his pockets to help his livid employer stand up, but that would have been too troublesome. Besides, she'd probably had just used it to throw him off the bridge they were currently traveling across. Captain... Err, what was her name again? Neiross couldn't remember. For convenience's sake, he'd just call her "Captain Stick-Up-The-Ass, bane of all napping." In any case, she was just temperamental like that, and, as it would be a pain if his fabulous, precious coat got wet, he'd rather not risk a sudden plunge over the side.

"WHAT. THE. HELL?!" The captain screamed, rising to her feet with righteous fury painted across her features. "What the hell kind of mercenary ARE you, anyway?! I thought you were supposed to be some sort of legendary assassin, yet all I'm seeing is the most useless, lazy bum I've ever had the displeasure of working with! You're supposed to be in the vanguard, damnit, and yet you're just lounging around in the baggage train NAPPING?!"

"I do believe that sums it up, yes. Why? Is that a problem?" He ducked the sudden punch at his face, and continued as though he hadn't noticed it. "You don't succeed at life unless you take it one step at a time... With plenty of naps in between." Darting to the side, he smiled cheerfully as the captain's fist impacted with the already shattered cart railing, punching straight through it. She grimaced, trying to withdraw her arm, only to find that it was stuck. "Now, see here. This is what happens if you don't relax. You'll just end up hurting yourself, and going to unnesecary lengths all for nothing. You should just remain calm, take it easy, and act only when your goal is actually in sight instead of bothering unnecessarily with a bunch of things that aren't really all that important anyway. Like vanguards, for example. We're on a bridge, in case you hadn't noticed, with all of our military forces marching at the front. Why exactly do we need a special 'vanguard' when we already have our entire army at the front, anyway? In any case, I'm an assassin, not a frontline soldier. Why would I be in the vanguard, of all places? I'm not even an actual member of your army. The only reason I'm here is to catch my target, get paid, and then go back to the many more important things I still have to do. Like napping."

"Not a frontline soldier, my ass!" The captain roared, a hateful sneer coming across her features. It didn't take a genius to figure out what she was referring to. "Don't be witty with me, Wind of Death, Neiross. I'm not a fool. I've done my research on you, and, although I never expected that you'd be such a worthless sloth, I know all about certain incidents, like what you did at the battle of Tel-Avir. In fact, there's hardly a soldier in this expeditionary force who doesn't remember that, and, more importantly, who doesn't remember those swords of yours, Olympion."

.....

The field of Tel-Avir was dead, in more ways than one. Lifeless, barren rock spread into more lifeless, barren rock, not a shade of green to be seen for miles. The ground stank as scarlet ran slowly across its surface, although whether this was just the light of the rising crimson moon or the blood staining every inch of the stone beneath his boots, Neiross couldn't entirely be sure. A vermillion haze spread across the sky as clouds of smoke rose slowly up from the wreckage of what had once been an outpost of the dissident Sparton faction, flames snapping and crackling quietly amidst the ruins as they slowly died out, quenched by the sea of gore spread across the entire battlefield. Bodies lay side by side, forming a rough ring around a single point, growing thicker and thicker as they drew closer to the center. Fallen weapons of every shape and size littered the ground, stuck point-first into the earth below as though to form a mock-cemetery for those who had wielded them. Many of these blades were driven through the very soldiers who had used them, who lay lifelessly upon the cold, dead ground.

As the scarlet moon rose high over the field, it painted the last two figures standing on that hellish landscape with its blood-red light. Slowly rising from atop a hill of swords and their deceased wielders, the assassin's enemy rose, blood dripping from his tattered cloak and from the curved blade in his hand. And yet, at a glance, the Wind of Death could tell that none of that scarlet claret was his own.

So this... this was the rumored "Beast of Impossibility," the man who had single-handedly slain the fledgeling Sparton Seperatists' army in a single day.

It was going to be a long, long night.

.....

Blinking back to the present, Neiross gave a wry smile, the ringing of clashing swords still fresh in his ears from that battle all those years ago. "Well, that explains the dirty looks people were giving me up until now. Or perhaps they were just jealous of my wardrobe?" He said sarcastically as the captain continued tugging on her arm as she glared up at the tall assassin. "But, it doesn't really matter, anyway. I've had enough of that job, especially after Tel-Avir. Oh, and by the way?" He smiled beneath his mask. "You do realize that cart's still moving, right?" The captain had just enough time to raise an eyebrow before she noticed that, indeed, the slow moving wagon in which her arm was stuck was, in fact, still moving, pulling her slowly across the ground. The last thing the assassin heard from her was several loud profanities as she disappeared into the distance. Neiross sighed, rubbing his forehead. It was going to be a long, troublesome job if all his employers were so temperamental. Who'd have thought that simply hunting down a "dangerous deserter" would result in such a pain in the neck? Or, the solar plexus, as the case happened to be.

"I'm not getting paid enough for this," Neiross sighed lazily.

[Qara-Xuan Zenith]

Raivisa's cabin room was small, as befitted a mere hired sword (well, naginata, but who's complaining?) as opposed to the Athenon force proper. She wasn't particularly bothered by the small space, though there were some scrapes on the walls and ceiling that might have otherwise been avoided.

With the door closed, in what passed for the privacy of her own room, this was Raivisa Kuravit as the world rarely saw her: the deceptive shukusen was out of sight, as were the pretty robes and accessories that the young woman often used to catch her prey. Instead, her black hair was tied back in a no-nonsense fashion; she was garbed in a simple practice uniform.

She was going through the motions of practicing pattern dances-- elaborate arrangements of attacks and blocks-- with her precious naginata. She compensated for the lack of an actual foe by picturing, in her mind's eye, an opponent with all the skills that she could supply, ensuring that, save for the presence of real danger, her practice battles would offer more challenge than any real one could afford. Occasionally, the sweeping polearm would carve a notch into the wall to accompany the scratches she had already left; as the Athenon ship did not belong to her, she didn't much care. She didn't much care for the Athenons, if it came to that.

Pattern dances like this were good for two things-- first, practice was important. She might be at the peak of her ability now, but if she let herself lose even a day of practice, someone better would come along. She wasn't willing to let anyone be better. Second, the pattern was, well, a pattern, easy to slip into almost unconsciously, allowing the rest of her conscious mind to organize her thoughts. Right now, she was thinking about the tasks that would soon be at hand. They were approaching land rapidly, after all, and once they landed, everything would change. Here was her chance, and here was her danger. The chance to prove herself everything she insisted herself to be-- the chance to seize such power that no one could ever think to control her again. And the danger that someone else might seize that power first. The danger that she might fail.

While practicing her craft, Rai could get very absorbed in what she was doing, but at a certain point it was impossible to ignore the commotion she heard from above. And, of course, once she heard the commotion, it was impossible to pretend that she didn't know who would be at its core. Cursing under her breath about so-called ronins who were useless for anything but getting themselves into trouble, she rummaged through her packs to find something to throw on over her practice clothes. A job was a job, but it didn't do to come across as too competent to people she might have to kill once this contract had ended.

Following the sound of the ruckus was easy enough, walking as fast as she dared without running the risk of spearing any hapless Athenon sailors with the naginata she held. Though it isn't like there aren't enough of them to spare a couple, she thought wistfully, indulging her imagination instead of her actual blade. Raivisa arrived at the cargo hold, to see a scene which would have surprised her if only she didn't know her travelling companion by now a little too well to be surprised by much of anything that he did. At least one of the men he was brawling with-- and she was sure that he would not be able to give her a good excuse for the brawl-- was covered in what appeared to be fruit jelly. She wished that she could be surprised.

No chance he'll take a non-verbal cue, is there? she sighed, before bellowing her acquaintance's name. "SETSUNA!"

"Yes, Raivisa?" he replied, refusing infuriatingly to even turn to face her, as he continued his fight.

She spun her weapon around, to jab him in his side with the blunt end of the naginata. "Ow," he complained halfheartedly.

She scowled at him, totally without sympathy. "Quit messing about," she told him. "Do I have to babysit you every moment? Save the fighting for people who aren't paying us; we'll be meeting plenty of them soon enough."

[agoraoptera]

A cowl obscured his features from any casual onlooker. Blue-on-blue eyes lit from within by a vibrantly azure flare looked impassively at the dark waters. It was quite a sight, Malafortion thought. To a non-Olympion, or rather, to anyone without the right eyes to see, there was simply a circle of men, humanoid shapes at least, standing by bridge half-broken and completely unusable.

To Malafortion, the bright tell-tale of shimmering faerie fire told him that the Sacred Ones were finally starting on the reconstruction of the bridge. It certainly had taken them long enough, what with the internecine arguments. Fools, they were. Did it really matter how the construction was achieved? Malafortion would not have really cared if they had taken Sparton slaves and threw them in, building a bridge of dead corpses to stride over. He would have cared, in a vague off-handed way, if Athenon slaves were used though.

Of course, that would never come to pass. At least, not yet.

The night was dark and full of terrors. Malafortion heeded none of them, standing still like the immovable statue his skin made him appear to be. It would be so easy then, with but a single twitch, to throw the Sacred Ones' spellwork into disarray and then perhaps they might become fearful of some hidden foe and the humiliation would pay for a small measure of what had happened 'that night'.

No. He kept his will to himself. No. If he did so, no doubt he would be discovered and all they had worked for would be as dust. Worthless. Nothing. They had spent a long time with the Olympion army, disguising their talents, pretending to be who they were not, taking on the names of mercenaries they had murdered. They were supposed to be traitors anyway. But they had been commanded to find the Fallen Kingdom. Of course, that had been an idle invocation just as one might demand the sun to rise from the west.

Yet the black mist had lifted, to everyone's surprise. Quite the adventure awaited them, Malafortion knew, but even more so, he knew that there was much more to be gained, so much more-

"Mal." The slender Athenon, all garbed in bloody red, stood by his side. Without waiting for a response, knowing that it was not his wont to respond, Natalya asked, "Are they finally rebuilding the bridge?"

A trickle of light travelled across the lines of his face. He nodded curtly, sharply. One unfamiliar with him might presume that he was angry with her or some such, but his manner was reticent, almost to the point of rudeness.

"Took them a while.." Natalya commented softly.

"Idiots." Malafortion enunciated every sound clearly, his voice like coarse grains of sand dripping venomous contempt. He would have spat, but the act seemed uncouth to him, lacking in basic courtesy that one extended even to one's foes.

He closed his eyes, casting his mind's eye through his body, ensuring that every muscle could be exercised at his will, that he would be able to twitch his little toe without moving any other muscle. He opened his eyes again, satisfied. Natalya was gone, doubtless now with Alia.

The bridge would be rebuilt and the path would be open. The path to pain.

[Lordxana0]

Five soldiers each carrying straight swords, all of them are nervous and shaking in fear from just training against me, I am sorry but it just doesn't appear you will be needed for this fight Kusinagi he sighed. Yes I understood that we haven't been in a real fight for ages, but as soon as we reach this island we will be able to pour as much blood as we want until then

The giant of a man who went by the name of Maliborn opened his eyes and looked at the five soldiers around him. They were green as a vine growing from a tree and there stances were at best pathetic and at worse nonexistent. "Well come on, at this point I will die of old age before any of you lily liveried excuses for soldiers make a move against me, I am standing right here, no armor, no weapon, it is five on one, attack me already!" he roared.

Three of the soldiers gave out pathetic excuses for war cries and charged at him. "There are two choices in this world" he slapped away the first soldiers blade and delivered a solid kick to the mans gut which dented his armor. "A man can fight" he didn't bother deflecting this mans blade, rather he sidestepped it and delivered a haymaker into his shoulder. "Or a man can die" he grabbed the blade of the third soldier and yanked it away tossing it to the side and headbutted him. The two remaining soldiers charged him from behind blades raised high. Maliborn ducked down and elbowed both of them in the chests and flipped them over.

"How am I expected to keep myself in good shape if all of my partners can't even keep up with the basics, I know the flame of my soul hasn't reached its crux yet, but without enemies that will push my limits I can't do anything about it, what do you think Kusinagi?" He reached down to where he had left his sword, buried to the hilt in the ground. With one tug he lifted it from its earthen sheath and put it over his shoulders. "If the enemies in the coming battles won't match my strength how will I ever experience the feeling I long for most, the feeling of fighting an enemy who can match me in combat, and enemy that pushes me to never before felt limits" he lifted Kusinagi and swung it slicing down four near by tree's. "Tell me Kusinagi!" he swung his blade again and again cutting the trees as they fell. "How will I know what it is to fight and bleed if all I ever face are people with flames so weak they burn out when they encounter mine!" He slammed his blade into the ground. "Tell me what have I trained for all these years, if I can't find an enemy that pushes my very limits to the end, tell me!" he gripped the blade tight and noticed that he had a gash on his hand from the soldiers blade that was bleeding on the sword.

He looked at his hand and laughed. "Your right that was a bit over the top" he took some bandages out and wrapped his hand up. "Okay men start carrying this wood to the last few carts, we have a long journey ahead of us and little time to waste, and after that tell the ration officer to give you a double meal today, tell him I sent you and you shouldn't encounter many problems" he put his sword over his shoulder and began to walk humming a gentle tune.

[JRPictures]

Jack Shepphard woke up in the morning minding his business.

He quietly got dressed in some good clothing and shoes ready for combat and travel, as he put his sword and sheath to his side with a bottle of water in his backpack for when he needs a source, not that he really needs it but just in case.

Jack packed his bag full of books regarding Aretha's history and the four kingdoms including the fallen kingdom Unigarond, the area of his mission.

After he finished packing, Jack went out the back and practiced his magic and swordfighting skills as both himself and the sword glowed blue. His magic was as powerful as he could make it, manipulating water itself.

As he finished practicing, Jack put his sword in his sheath and put on his backpack as left to meet with Olympion's missionaries and forces that were going to go to Unigarond.

Jack had volunteered himself for the task under the guise of helping his kingdom reclaim what is theirs. While he respected this motivation, his true intentions were to prevent the wealth and riches Unigarond could provide from being exploited and used for evil.

Jack grew up, raised to do what he believes is right, through whatever means possible. He had trained his swordsmanship and control of water strongly since he was young and had even acted as a vigilante in Olympion to stop crime from taking place.

Yet his fascination with Aretha's history is what lead him to what could be his greatest task yet. He read of Unigarond's history and once he heard that the fallen kingdom had 'come back' he knew what good and evil could come out of it even if the question of why the kingdom 'returned' had throbbed in his head since the beginning.

His training and dedication had left him anti-social and with no friends outside his small but supportive family, not that he minded but he would like it if someone would be his friend or could talk to him. But he knew he couldn't approach a person and that a person may never even approach and talk to him.

He digressed through his thoughts of what his plans were on the journey with the other Olympions and what he would do when he reached Unigarond. But for know Jack kept sight of his surroundings knowing the journey and destination would be dangerous.

Jack eventually arrived to the meeting place with the rest of missionaries and forces ready for the trip and travelled with them towards the area where the bridge was as he watched the Olympions argue on how to fix the bridge. Annoyed, he sat down and waited, thinking of his next move.

[Guyshane]

Lets see after he escaped from our military prison he moved onto Sparton and has apparently never left. However he didn’t actually stay there if the intelligence they provided me was correct. But how did he escape? I need to know so he cant pull the same trick on me.

Azir sighed and leaned back in his chair. He had been put up in a decent sized room with a small desk on the ship. The desk was covered in intelligence reports that Atheon had on Sparton and Olypion forces as well as speculation about Unigarond. However the centerpiece was the wall opposite the door. It had every bit of what Azir considered pertinent intelligence on his personal target pinned to it. The intelligence was varied and odd. It had standard information such as battles the Olypion had been in, movements of troops, and general intelligence reports. However in some of the reports Azir had marked the oddest information as important, such as type of shoe or favorite food.

Then the door to the room opened up. The intruder immediately was staring down a shotgun barrel. Azir looked at the face. “Oh its just you, sorry about that” Azir said as he lowered his weapon. His intelligence contact looked a bit less nervous now that he didn’t have a gun shoved in his face. “Yes well please don’t do that again.”

“Probably wont happen again, how is the life as an average everyday sailor treating you?”
“Its just annoying enough to make me wonder why I wanted a field assignment.”
Azir gave the man a quick smile. “So what brings you to this part of the ship?”
“Both of the other kingdoms are making their way towards the island right now.” The contact marked two places on a map. “Here are the two entry points.”
“Good, this will make things easier.”
“Also here are those papers you requested”
“Excellent” Then the contact left the room

Azir heard a commotion outside as sailors ran by yelling something about the “stupid mercenary.” No doubt the odd one whose always referring to himself as a ronin, well lets go have a look. Azir took his weapons with, just in case. He arrived at the scene of the battle as the lovely mercenary berated her sloppy companion. He saw one of the sailors the mercenary had been fighting preparing to attack from behind. Before he could Azir dropped a firm hand on the sailor’s shoulder. “Have you suffered head trauma recently or were you just born stupid?”
“What? I’m not stupid!” the man exclaimed.
“You could have fooled me, you’re about to attack a man who beat you without trying, while his armed friend is here, while the captain is no doubt marching down here right now to break up this fight.” The sharpshooter paused to let his words sink in. “Maybe we should all try getting along since were going to be working together, in fact…” Azir then began walking towards the mercs to see if he could make some friends.

[Blurred_9L]

One...two...three... splash.

Another small rock leapt across the surface of the water before falling to be lost in the depths of the lake, reminding him of simpler times. Devin sighed as he took out another rock from his pocket, feeling it with his hand before throwing it again, just to watch it bounce and then fall. He wondered if this expedition wouldn't end up like that for him: a rock that was sent off far away, leaping across a dangerous place, just to finally fall at the end and drown in the depths of despair.

"Man, that's a gloomy thought." he thought, looking away from the water. The walking pace of everyone else was so dramatically slow that he wondered if they would ever reach the island before the other kingdoms where already there, ready to intercept them. He sighed again, looking at the rock in his hand before tossing it away nonchalantly. Optimism wasn't his thing.

He was supossed to be walking alongside the main army at the front, though he had quietly slipped away; after all, why the hell would an archer be allowed on the front lines? If he hadn't been hired by Spartons he would be wondering if these people were trying to kill him... Alas, they were, so he was convinced that the possibility of that happening was most likely right. "No use worrying about it now, though". He looked up to the sky, sighing once again. An exasperated voice came from his right, waking him up from his daydreaming.

"Hey! What are you doing here? You should be at the front!" the woman shouted as she walked alongside one of the supply carts. It was the captain. "Seriously, you're the most unprofessional mercenaries I've ever hired. If I was one of my superiors I would have already fired you, even worse, I'd have killed you on the spot...". She ranted, letting out her annoyance at Devin. She started whispering something about Neiross, the Olympion who had been hired a while back, but he couldn't exactly hear what she said about him. It was then that he realized that the captain wasn't walking alongside the cart, but actually being dragged alongside it, her fist stuck on one of the railings.

"Sorry". He quickly apologized. "I just don't think archers should be on the front lines. But anyway, let me help you with that". He said before the woman had any chance to start ranting again. "How did you even get stuck?" He whispered as he neared the cart, the question left hanging in the air as the woman face grew red in anger... and maybe a bit of embarrasment.

"It's no use. I've been trying to free myself for a while now. Damn, that Neiross". she said, her pride wouldn't allow her to be helped out by anyone, much less a filthy Athenon.

"That's because you're trying too hard. You got to relax a bit. If you just try to pull your hand out, you'll end up hurting yourself" Devin said, helping the captain slowly move away her hand from the railing. At first it seemed like it wouldn't come out, but after a bit of struggling, she was free from the cart's movement. "See? You got to take one step at a time. No need to be so uptight about everything." He smiled. The captain just stood there, her mind slowly processing the words that had been said to her. Suddenly, she turned red again, hell, maybe she popped one or two veins too. With a swift movement, she sent out a kick, hitting him in the gut. Devin fell to his knees in pain, the air escaping from his lungs. The captain stormed off to the front lines again. "Stupid mercenaries!"

"Man... what was that for?" thought Devin, as he stood up, still aching from the kick. "This is going to be a long journey...".

[Lordxana0]

Maliborn saw what the captain had just done and took what he thought was the most logical action. He slammed his fist into her face and sent her to the floor. "Hey he just helped, the correct response is a thank you, or if your stupid pride will drown you then lower your head in your shame and walk away" He walked over to the archer and handed him a silver coin. "Take this and give it to Neblanc, the guy riding the horse near the back of the lines, he will put you in his squad, it doesn't make any sense for a soldier who uses a bow to stand in the front lines, I won't see a fellow soldier killed because of a commanding officers stupidity" he turned around as five soldier aimed their blades directly for his heart. "Oh right I just punched a commanding officer didn't I?" He looked down at them. "Normally I am under orders from the king himself to do whatever it takes to reach the island and free it, so put down those swords before I remove your ability to hold them, understand?"

The soldiers looked at each other uncertainly before the commander coughed out. "Right, soldiers stand down, Maliborn I don't care who the hell you are or what the king said, if you assault me again I will have you strung up and lashed until you don't have a back to speak of anymore" the commander motioned for her men to follow. "And since you are so found of the archer why don't you go join him in the back lines!"

Maliborn sighed and looked at the archer. "Looks like we are in the same squad, that bods quite well for you, I am Maliborn Adgex Sparton soldier who is commonly referred to by the nickname "Demon of the Blood Red Ocean" seeing as you use a bow I am guessing you are Atherton, so mercenary what made you decided to join us in this war?"

[Pixelmage]

Now to find Alia! She must learn the good news! Natalya thought happily crossing the Olympion camp. It was a strange place, to an Athenon, but having spent so much time among them made her used to it. Most of it, at any rate.

"What's a slave doing here?" Except to that comment. One of the foot soldiers, doubtlessly unaware of who she was, commented to another, annoyed at the notice of a human walking freely, and armed, around the camp.

Ever since joining the Olympion army, it happened more often that she wished it would. They referred to her as "Slave" or "Pet", but she was neither. It took a while to teach them that, however it looked like some arrogant idiots skipped the lessons. No matter, of course, she could always use the practice.

What followed was twofold, first, an arrow sprouted from the offender's shoulder. It didn't seem to fly towards him so much as it just appeared there barely after he finished his question. The second was Natalya's voice, soft and calm. And conveying an acidic violence that made grizzled men flinch.

"Slave?" She asked, glaring at him, another arrow already ready to be fired.

"What the hel-" The Olympion was interrupted by the second arrow piercing his gut. Natalya took one step closer, third arrow at hand. The Olympion flared, magic surging around him as he prepared to unleash whatever was his power towards the lone archer. A booming voice resounded.

"Do not move soldier." One of the commanding officers said, directed at the Olympion. Natalya lowered her bow, as the officer turned to her. By this point, a number of curious soldiers watched from the sidelines. "My apologies Miss Armis, but could you please refrain from incapacitating our soldiers?" His tone was stern, but he knew usual military approach would be pointless, possibly getting the woman killed and earning himself some new scars. It wasn't worth it. He turned to the wounded wounded soldier. "As for you..."

Natalya stopped listening, turning back to her search for Alia, back to thinking more cheerfull thoughts. They would be on the island soon, after that such troublesome things as army organization would no longer matter.

[Blurred_9L]

Devin looked at the coin in his hand, then back to the man standing in front of him. Trying to process what had just happened would have been an easier job if the presence of Maliborn, didn't make him nervous.

"Eh... uhm, thanks for that..." He started saying, nervously fiddling with the remaining rocks stored inside his pocket with his free hand. "...and, I guess, sorry. I didn't mean to get you in trouble or anything." He lowered his gaze, still intimidated by the tall, imposing figure in front of him. Remembering that he had to go talk to Neblanc, he stored the silver coin in another of his pockets and started walking towards the back.

"You asked about my motives, right?" Devin said, looking back while he walked. A half smile appeared on his face. "I guess you wouldn't believe me if I told you I'm here for fame and riches, right?" Maliborn, just stared at him, he didn't seem particularly amused or offended by the statement. Devin laughed. "Yeah, I'm not here for any of that." He turned to stare at the distance, melancholy suddenly finding its way through his expression. "I'm looking for someone. Well, actually, a bunch of people. They left a while ago to have adventures, fight monsters, discover caves and riches... you know, the usual stuff. It's been 6 years since I heard anything from them. I left my village in search for them a year ago and I still haven't found any clue. Maybe they're dead by now, left to rot in some unknown dungeon in the far reaches of the land. I don't know. It would be nice if I found some clue though." He threw a rock at the water, this time, it fell straight to the water. "If they're still alive, then maybe they'll find their way over here. That's what I'm hoping at least." He paused, turning to face Maliborn again. He pulled his right hand out of the pocket he was hiding it in, extending it towards the tall man. "Anyway, I'll do my best if you need me to. I haven't told you my name, haven't I? I'm Devin Azurewind. It's nice to meet you."

[Lordxana0]

Maliborn took his hand and held it in a vice grip"It is my pleasure Devin, but I do have a question I am forced to ask you, we are going to a battlefield soon and as you know many adventures fall into the mercenary life out of convinced, if you meet your friends on it, will they join our side, or will you join theirs?" Maliborn starred into the archers eyes. "And if they are they enemy understand that if I meet them and they don't surrender I will kill them, are you willing to face me in combat to protect your friends, are you willing to kill and betray those who have hired you in order to protect your friends?" With his other hand he gripped his sword. "The answer you provide will tell me what kind of man you are, so think wisely and answer truthfully, I don't fight or protect liars, I cut them down"

[AMimsyBorogove]

"Well, that's a rather stupid way to go about things." The assassin's apathetic, mumbling voice rang out from right next to the two warriors conversing on the bridge, as though he'd simply appeared there when they weren't looking. "Acting so serious, then demanding an answer to such a question, even reaching for your sword while doing it... Heh. You're not going to get any answer at all if you ask all your questions in such a pointlessly confusing manner." Shrugging, Neiross shut one of his eyes, as though it was simply too much of an exertion to keep it open. "And, in any case, how can you simply 'cut down' an armed man without, to some extent or another, fighting him? Your threats don't make any sense, either." With a slight chuckle, Neiross slouched lazily, his hands in his pockets.

Why does every officer in this expedition have to be either dysfunctional, temperamental, or violent? Or all of the above. It's such a bother, dealing with this... He sighed. What a frightening race these Spartons are.

[Blurred_9L]

Devin's heartbeat accelerated at Maliborn's words, even so, he wouldn't back down now. He stood there, trying to gather the courage to speak a reasonable answer. And then, the Olympion appeared out of nowhere, surprising both of them. He seemed to be speaking the truth, though it also seemed like he was provoking the bigger man, as if he wanted to test him. Devin gulped, at least he wasn't so nervous anymore, and yet... why was he trying so hard not to start shaking? Not wanting to lose any more time thinking, he started talking. "I guess if I might die today, might as well not hold back about anything..." he thought before opening his mouth to utter some words.

"My friends are the most important thing. Whatever happens I'll protect my friends" he gripped Maliborn's hand tighter than before, even though he knew the other man could easily break his hand if he wanted to. "Even so, I have been hired as a mercenary haven't I? You guys expect me to fight alongside you, right? What good would it make me to leave this army just like that? I came here to look for my friends, not to make unnecesary enemies." He looked straight into Maliborn's eyes, aware that he was being judged, aware that his life could end any moment now. "If I find my friends, I'll try my best to bring them over to our side... otherwise, I will join them... but, if it turns out they are fighting against us, then I'll have no choice but to incapacitate them." He used his free hand to open his leather jacket, revealing the vials that were strapped to it. "With this! There are enough types of poison in this world. Some types of poison will slowly drain your life away, other will simply numb your body preventing you from doing any sort of movement. If my friends are in a pinch, I'll have to use these..." He looked over to the man, who returned the glare. "...on them. So that they'll stop and not cause any more damage until the mission I've been hired to participate is complete or my contract is over. Of course, if you'd like to cut me down right here and now, then that is your choice. Even if I don't stand a chance against you --a man that didn't even flinch at five men pointing their swords at him-- I will fight. I wouldn't have come if I feared death, right?" The fear he had felt had gone away, Devin smirked as if Maliborn was the very death that came to take him away to the Netherworld. If he was to die, he would face his death head on. "Anyway, if a fight is what you want, the only thing I ask you is to make it a fair one. After all, how much honor does a man have if he cuts his opponent when he's unable to defend himself?".

[Lordxana0]

Maliborn looked at the man for a few moments before letting out a bellowing laugh and shaking the mans hand. "An honest man and a smart one at that, seems I will be fighting with you after all" he let go of Devins hand and smiled. "A man who knows how to balance his friends and his honor is a man I would enjoying fighting next to indeed, the enemy will be feeling a little less big in the birches knowing that they have to face the two of us aye?" he slapped the mans back lightly and turned to look at the man who had made the remark.

"As for you, I am not quite sure who you are, but you can tell everything about a man from the way he stands, and I can say almost everything about you" Maliborn walked past him heading to the back of the caravan. "You are lazy but powerful, you don't take things quite so seriously and enjoy being a pest to others, your ability are a waste on someone with that kinda of mindset, I would strike you for interrupting my conversation but an opponent like you isn't one I would enjoy facing, stay out of my way and I am sure things will be just fine, now I have an officer to report to" he continued walking. "Yes I did feel how powerful he was Kusinagi, but spilling the blood of a man like that is beneath you and I"

[Victin]

Malagi rolled to his right. He was laying down on the ground for the çast 30 minutes and he hasn't found a confortable position. And he had rolled roughly 30 meters from where he was 30 minutes ago, so he basically rolled on the ground for half an hour. He had layed on the ground on the middle of a forest so no one would bother calling for his help. The indecision on the Sacred Ones part about how would be the best way to rebuild a bridge was annoying, but only because they were going to set off when said bridge was done. If they decided to rebuild the bridge but camp for the night, Malagi would be more than pleased. But no... They could even call for his help, if they wanted. And of course he didn't want to help. He probably would have to work throught the night.

He rolled once more to the right, but stopped suddenly. He stood up and noticed that had he rolled more he would have fallen into the water. Well then... I suppose I'll have to find another spot to rest. He scratched his chin and arranged the hammer tied to his back. This is what I get for trying to sleep with my weapons on me. Meh, whatever...

Malagi looked around, and noticed Malafortion standing at the edge of the river, training. His stillness and his... Blueish skin, as everyone but Malagi would claim it was, made him looks like a statue. But Malagi knew him and his smell very well. He approached his friend while arranging the kusari-gama on his belt. "Hey, what's up, buddy?"

[TheJester]

"Alright what is going on here!?"

Carlmono, furious as ever, stormed onto the hold to break up what was going on.

"You! Banished Sparton! Yeah you! What is the meaning of this? Why is it every time of day you start trouble, can you not stay your blade for five freaking seconds!? You all deserved to be fired! I never agreed to hiring mercenaries in the first place!"

Carlmono stood among the sailors and noticed the girl with the naginata.

"You... Tell me what happened." Carlmono said viciously.

[AMimsyBorogove]

"Oh," Neiross mumbled apathetically. "This is the part where I'm supposed to get angry, isn't it?" Shrugging, he gave a half-hearted attempt to oblige, giving what would have been a righteously indignant reply if it didn't sound like he was talking in his sleep, with random gibberish interspersed between phrases around which one could touch the air quotes. "'Blah, blah, you insult my honor. Blah blah, this is unforgivable. Blah blah, would you like to behold my power for yourself? Blah blah, let's see if you're actually as strong as you think you are' - is what I'd say if I cared, anyway." Neiross simply shut his other eye, although whether this gesture was meant to taunt Maliborn or was just the product of his overwhelming laziness, none could say. Lapsing into silence, he simply stood idly, listening as the man's footsteps disappeared into the din of the caravan. As the man faded into the crowd, Neiross gave one final call to him.

"You know, talking to your sword is a major indicator of insanity! You should probably get that checked."

[Lordxana0]

Maliborn stopped in his tracks and the people who had heard what Neiross had said began to hurry themselves out of the way. "This is not a sword, this is Kusinagi, and you will apologize for not recognizing it as such, or else I will let her taste your blood you pathetic excuse for a mercenary" he waited for an answer his killer aura surrounding him so everything could feel his desire to both kill and slaughter the loud mouthed Olympion.

[AMimsyBorogove]

"Oh? I thought you said you weren't going to attack me. Since that sword is so precious to you, would you really want to lie to it?" Neiross smirked slightly beneath his mask, cracking an eye open as he slowly straightened his posture, standing up to his full height and drawing his (fabulously) gloved hands out from within the (fabulous) pockets of his (fabulous) coat. "Not that I mind, though. This entire journey was getting dreadfully boring. If you're so confident that you can kill me, I don't really care if you try. I wonder how long you'll last, though? After all, you're not the only one with a named blade." Neiross smirked, stretching his arms casually by crossing them over his head. Yet, the position served a clear purpose, namely, to put him within easy reach of the twin blades on his back. And yet, reconsidering for a moment, he lowered his arm once again.

"Then again, it would pretty boring if I ended things too quickly. Besides, I don't need either of my blades to match you and that vaunted sword of yours, I wager, and it would be very troublesome if my pay was docked for blowing up the convoy and the bridge along with a certain loudmouthed swordsman. I think I'll just use... this." Reaching down to his belt, Neiross placed his hand upon the hilt of a random longsword he'd lifted earlier for just such an occasion. It was always such a pain to use his main blades, in any case. Unlike more plain swords, they were actually tiring, and they generally caused too much collateral damage to be practical, least of all for a simple spar with an overly bloodthirsty Sparton warmonger.

"Oh my. What a frightening expression you have there. I'd daresay I've made you angry." Neiross laughed, his grin growing broader as he provoked his new source of temporary amusement. "I guess the stories about Spartons being foolishly proud, overly confident, and obsessed solely with fighting anyone they lay eyes on weren't wrong, after all. But, of course, you didn't need to tell me that."

Come at me, mein freund.

[JRPictures]

Jack had quietly minded his business as the bridge was getting rebuilt or rather being argued on how to be rebuilt, he wasn't so sure anymore on that issue.

He didn't mind, it gave him a chance to relax, gather his thoughts and think of his plans when he reached Unigarond. 

"I'm still not too sure what to do when I reach Unigarond, I need allies to help me definitely but I don't think anyone on my team or the other kingdoms would join me when they find out that I want to defend the treasure there. The power, wealth and resources there could make any kingdom knock the other out. I have to do what's right even if others hate me for it...." Jack thought to himself on end.

[Lordxana0]

Maliborn raised his blade high in the air before stopping and tilting his head to the side. "He's goading me into attacking him?" he looked at the assassin and laughed putting his blade over his shoulders. "I think you are right Kusinagi, he is a funny little thing isn't he?" He walked over to the sword wielding Olympion and ruffled his hair like a father would to his son. "Any man brave enough to challenge me to a fight is a man that I could fight along side, your souls flame might be like an infants but your guts are as hard as iron, I think Kusinagi agree's don't you girl?" a shiver ran down the normal soldiers backs as if they felt an evil presence in the air. "Anyway places to be, come along archer we could lose quite a bit time if we don't report in with our new commander" he walked away laughing.

[H22]

Publius was ready to return home. He had spent more than enough time in this infernal, God-forshaken hellhole, where his whole purpose had repeatedly been stymied and obstructed. Suddenly, he noticed a messenger - just a slave, he thought - run up to him utterly exhausted. "Yes?" Publius snapped. The slave collapsed, and gaspingly said 'I - I was ordered - to, to, to - give - this - to'', brandishing a scroll. Finally he died at Publius' feet. "GRAVEDIGGER!" he shouted, before gently picking up and reading the document to himself.

PUBLIUS KYRON. YOU HAVE BEEN NOMINATED TO SERVE ON THE ATHENION EXPEDITION TO THE NEWLY REVEALED ISLAND. MANIPULATE EVERYONE YOU CAN TO GAIN LEVERAGE AND BE THE FIRST TO GAIN THE TREASURE WHICH WILL SAFEGUARD OUR GLORIOUS DEMOCRACY. BE READY. YOUR KNOWLEDGE OF FENCING IS FAMOUS, AND WE WISH YOU TO ATTEMPT LONGBOW ARCHERY. TRY TO AVOID UNNECESSARY CONFLICT. YOUR KNOWLEDGE AND SINGLE-MINDEDNESS IS WHAT COMMENDED YOU TO US; DO NOT DISAPPOINT. THE WHOLE POPULACE WILL VOTE ON YOUR PERFORMANCE WITHIN SIX MONTHS. GODSPEED.
BY ORDER OF THE COUNCIL OF FIVE HUNDRED.

This was the ultimate adventure. He was unconvinced of archery, true, but he would succeed. He was totally uninterested in honour or power for Athenion - the mines are what mattered. Olympion hated him for his love of democracy. They would pay, in this most beautiful act of revenge. He knew that one of his most vital contact points had left, joining the Spartans as a mercenary. He could not condemn him, but maybe he could persuade him. 'You got mocked, humiliated, by a Spartan,' he thought he would say. 'So why don't you do your patriotic duty? It will be beautiful. I have the intelligence at my fingerprints. I can get you,' - what did he want again? Oh, of course, 'your friends back. We have such an open force, and, you know... The leaders always like someone who's risen up. Perhaps you could come back and come up.' He would have to bribe him, but it wouldn't be too hard. He'd have to dispatch of that thug Maliborn, though. Ah well. In the end it wouldn't be too hard to make a distraction.

After some archery lessons, and approaching Devin, he was good to go.

[AMimsyBorogove]

Neiross raised an eyebrow. Although he wasn't particularly fond of this man's condescending treatment, if the boisterous oaf wouldn't fight him, then he couldn't really be bothered to do anything about it. Too much trouble, in his opinion. He supposed he'd just do something that didn't require as much effort. Maybe being sarcastic. He was good at that. "Oh," the assassin mumbled. "So you do have some sense of restraint. I suppose I should be congratulating you for overcoming your tremendous bloodthirst, but I'm afraid I can't bring myself to over my utter boredom." He sighed. "What a pain."

"In any case," He continued after a brief pause. "Why do you call it 'she' if its name is Kusanagi? That doesn't exactly sound like a female name to me."