The Second Shadow War: A Fantasy RP! (The war is over)

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Telemain took the modified arm & sling and fitted them on. They stayed in place, even with him running in place. With a twist of thought, he replicated Irene's spell that stopped decay on the tendon.

"That solves that problem. I guess we shall go now?"

The two magicians followed the man past the rock outcropping, talking about their favorite foods.


The mouse saw the three big-shapes walking off, away from where they'd been. He scampered as fast as he could, dodging twigs and rocks. A frog nearly flattened him once. He barely caught up and jumped onto the hanging strap on the satchel. The mouse climbed it and wriggled its way into its soft interior. It laid there, panting.

Some time later...

Irene peeked past the leaves of the bushes she was hiding behind. She heard the rythmic thumping of horses nearing, and Telemain had assured her that they would be carrying soldiers. To avoid any questions or encounters, they had hid. Corwyn had done so begrudginly. The horses neared, and Irene saw them appear with a cloud of dust trailing behind them. They looked like the horseman of the apocalypse, with their riders armoured in rusty dark-metal armour and torn banners held high. These were no ordinairy soldiers.

They come from a slaughter. Blood clings to their swords. The male whisper noted.

Irene looked, and saw that indeed blood covered the ten riders. She kept as still as she possibly could, and waited. She just hoped that no magician was with the squad. They would pick up the strange aura of Corwyn and Irene, not to mention the power Telemain carried with him.


The next day, thousands of people, from the lowliest street-beggars to the richiest men on earth, witnessed as Temujin's body was transported in a golden carriage, escorted by a full battalion of armed guards, to his final resting place, his great family mausoleum, which had completed construction just a couple of years prior.

Tergutai watched, from the balcony of the palace, a river of weeping men, women and children slowly moving underneath him. With him were his wife, his children, his broters, King Keldrid, his son, the seven chieftains, his mother, and various other foreig dignitaries.

Later the same day, in the grand hall, witnessed only by couple hundredf the Empire's best, he assumed th title of Grand Khan of the Empire. Finally, the power layed in his hands. How he had longed for this moment.

Robin watched the ceremony with his son at his side. It was glamorous, filled with important people and ravish decorations. Politics at it's best. Robin looked around for any possible assassination attempts. He had three at his crowning after all.

It seemed the new King had become official, which was met with roars of joy from the crowd. James joined in, even though he didn't really know what the crowd was cheering.

"There's something not right about this. All of this.", he whispered to his son.

The Infamous Scamola:

Tergutai was in his military quarters, with him only Robin. A day had passed since the funeral.

"King Keldrid," said Targutai " you have been a guest at my court for quite some time now. I would like to know what it was that inspired you to attend the funeral. After all, it has been a long time since you had seen or even heard from each other."

"Temujin and I were equals for quite some time. I respected the man, greatly."

Robin pondered to himself for a few seconds.

"Still, there is so much I owed him. He gave his position in the Kingdom and his life to help me, but there was no true way I could repay him."

Robin laughed to himself.

"And anything to get away from the politics at home I suppose."

"Politics will be politics." answered Targutai, slowly sitting down on a chair, and opening up a large map ona table.

"You see, Keldrid, the chieftains do not approve of me as a Khan. I am what they most hate, a sedentary city-dweller, spoilt by the safeness and protection of my royal upbringing, unfamiliar with the harsh condition of the steppes." he continued.

"My father, he was a great man. A conqueror. He accomplished in his lifetime what no one had ever managed. He was the scourge of the east. He was the subjugator of chieftains, Kings, Emperor, Sultans and Maharajas alike. Now, the tribes, they are a warlike bunch. They believe in earning one's rank and position in society. So, what better way than to do this then to take the one pearl, the one coveted jewel that my father never had time for: The West." he said, enphatically, pointing his finger at a spot on the right of the map, meanwhile looking at Keldrid.

"With you as an ally, Keldrid, we can march through every town and city, crush your enemies, see them driven before us bound as slaves, steal their horses and land, and hear the sweet lamentation of their women."

"The departing of my father could not have come at a worse time. The Empire needs this. A new campaign, to reinvigorate the troops and fill the empirial coffers with spoils of war from a far away land. Your land." he said.

Robin looked over the map, scanning most of the area.

"A large portion of this is already First Legion owned, so the only area I could think you would be asking of is, the Feline terrotory."

Robin looked up a the new king. Is it possible he knew? Maybe. However, this threw a wrench in his plans and helped them at the same time.

"Are you saying you want to invade and take the Feline lands?"

"I am afraid I am no expert regarding these strange lands and it's inhabitants, but if you say that these... "felines" are a viable choice of enemy, then I will trust you." said Targutai.

"Now though, the only way this will work is if I have free access to your ports and main connection routes. Keldrid, I need you as an ally of my people." he continued, this time putting his hand on the old King's shoulder and looking him straight in the eye.

"What do you say?"

Robin looked around the room quickly. He couldn't see anyone in earshot of them.

"Is this room protected from any magic use?"

The young King nodded.

"You are most definately a son of Temujin. I can trust you when I tell you this, but you must tell no others."

Robin cleared his throat, and checked once more for anyone who might be able to hear.

"I plan to attack the Felines, but you must understand, they are not the enemy. I've let certain sources know, and spread the word of my attack. However, I do not plan to spill any Feline blood. They have been good allies to me. I plan to send my troops in, and have them die for our cause."

Robin sighed, deeply, then looked the King in the eyes.

"What I tell you now, must not leave this room. I assume your father told you of our victory over the Library, thirty years ago. Well, the Library was never defeated. They still exist. What they plan, I do not know, but they cannot be allowed to continue with it. We can help each other rid the Library from this land. You may have all spoils of the war. The Library's secrets, possessions and money. I can assure you that than have more than the Felines could dream of."

"But after that... will I be able to have my way with the felines?" asked Tergutai, intrigued.

"I would doubt I would have any political sway with the Felines after what I will do, so I cannot say I would have any way to stop you."

Robin had a good standing with the Felines. It was a shame he had to destroy it to do good.

"What is your interest in the Feline territory?"

"I have no interest in them per se, but claiming land in the west and having a tributary state there would be a good way of showing the chieftains my valor." said Targutai.

"Now, I am satisfied with our negotiations. I recommend you go back to your quarters and rest. Tomorrow we will be able to discuss the logistic and military tactics of this new campaign with my generals,and after that, you will be free to go home."

Robin nodded.

"Straight to the point. Your most definately Temujin's son. Good night, I bid you good rest."

Robin walked outside of the large, majestic room and toward his son.

"We should probally sleep. Come, James."

One of the soldiers slowed as they passed the bushes the trio were hidden in. He looked where they were hidden.
"Eh, Rowland. Wha ya see?"
"Nuffin. I jus' thought I felt sumfin. Sumfin magicul."

Just then, Telemain felt the twinge of mental confusion that happened when insanity was about to strike. NO! Not now! Stay back, damn you! STAY BACK! A column of fire burst out of him from his efforts, even though he succeeded. "Aww.... hellfire....."

The soldiers reared their horses and turned around, drawing their weapons.
"I KNEW I felt sumfin!"
"Shu-it, Rowland! Garris, ready yer bow! Trever, stick wif me!"

Their leader gripped his mace tightly and approached the bushes while his men readied to attack.

Irene's barriers prevented her from being burnt to a crisp, but the collumn of fire flung her through the air, making her fall face down in the undergrowth on the other side of the path. She spat out a mouthfull of mud and half rose. She stopped when she touched the cold tip of a spear.

"Hol'it right there, missy." She heard a man growl.

This time, the whisper did nothing. Irene was on her own.

Improvising, she let the spear dissapear. The soldier stood for a bemused second, looking at where first was his weapon. Irene acted on this. She grabbed the man and threw him to the ground. She drove a mental spike into his mind, and forced a metal spike she just created into his throat. The scurry was only a few seconds long.

Then she felt a warm liquid spatter on her face, and a decapitated body fell to her right.

Corwyn had pulled two of his knives and pounced onto the other soldier approaching them. He stabbed him in the chest twice, piercing his chain mail, a sickening rasp filling the air. He laughed while doing such, in a mad flurry of blood and violence. With a quick flick of the two blades, he sliced off his arms and head, the decapitated trunk spewing blood. In his perverse glee, Corwyn tossed the head in the air as if it were a hat. It struck the body Irene had just killed.

Telemain staggered upright and took position so most of the soldiers were lined up from his perspective. While Irene and Corwyn had their fun, he pushed as much magical energy into his fore and middle finger that were touching his temple. Lightning danced across his working arm. The magician of their group realized what the old man was trying to do, and ordered everyone to scatter. He was too late, though. With his power charged up, Telemain yelled, "SPECIAL BEAM CANNON! DUCK YOU TWO!"

Irene and Corwyn turned their heads to look at him, and fell to the ground. Telemain pointed at the group and unleashed a beam of pure energy at them. For those that it struck, they were vaporized immediately, leaving only ashes, weapons, and the visceral smell of burnt flesh and hair. "You two.... get the..... rest....." He fell to his knee, then held himself upright with his hand.

A second group of cavalary galloped towards them.

Relinquish, The ancient whisper told her. Like before, Irene relaxed completely. Then her arms and legs began to move on their own accord. She walked towards the middle of the road. The horsemen laughed and tried to run her over. They never got the chance.

The whisper began to weave spells and combine the three schools in ways Irene had never thought possible. The air itself began to warp around her as the enchantment began to work. Then Irene's hand shot forward and made a hitting gesture.

A second passed.

Another passed.

And with the third second, the leading horseman's flesh was ripped off his body. Only a skeleton remained. The other soldiers looked at the skeleton with surprise and fear. With the fourth second, the second soldier succumbed to the curse.

After twenty seconds, the entire group was diminished to a pile of bones and pieces of flesh.

It is done, Whisper said. Irene thanked him once again before gaining control over her limbs again and running towards Telemain, to see if he was hurt or injured.

Irene gripped his forearm and pulled him onto his feet. "Thanks you. I'm alright, I'm alright. That's just what happens when you let off nearly all of your magic in a blast of pure power."

Corwyn looked at the old one, then shrugged. "That was impressive, old man. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go have some fun."

Telemain watched as he went around collecting all of the bodies that were more of less intact. "What really concerns me is how easily a trainee magician detected us. If anyone with their degree crossed our paths, we'd have been as obvious as the sun itself. I'll have to experiment with this...."

"Hang on. They came directly from a battle, their blades were stained with blood." Irene said. She turned and walked towards the hill. She gagged when she walked past the burnt meat that Telemain created and the bloody meat of Corwyn and Herself. She walked up the hillside, fearing what might wait behind it...

Telemain hoped for the best while he followed Irene up the hill. Damn these stiff joints. If only magic could heal the mares of aging. Irene gasped as she reached the top of the earthen mound. Curious, he sped up. When he stood atop it, he gasped as well. Below them, there were many dead Librarians and Felines scattered around a burning set of buildings. The Librarians' robes were stained dark red with their own blood, the elder's beard ragged and messy. The apprentices young faces set in a pose of pure horror, as if they knew that there was no escape, and they were going to die at the peak of their lives.

The felines' were likewise marred. The females' fur was singed and charred from the burning buildings, their ears ripped off. The males were hacked dismembered, obvious signs that the soldiers they had just destroyed had let out their anger on them. The vultures were already tearing at the bodies, enjoying their first meal. The goods that they had been trading had been dumped into the house, fuel for the beast devouring the wooden frames.

"The Legion found one of our trading posts. I doubt there were any survivors." Telemain blinked back tears. It had been a long time since he had seen pure-blooded feline, and they were still as noble as he remembered them. For even though they had been defeated and killed, they had a look of pride that no human could hope to match. "Let's go. The Felines must be alerted of this. Violence is loose in the land."

Rio was worried. Her friend Alanna still wasn't back from the trading post. She should have been back a day ago. Several other people were worried as well. Every now and then a guard was hurt. But then it was only a broken arm or leg or maybe a deep cut, but this had never happened. Again she looked at her mothers axe and again asked "What is wrong? What is happening to the world you fought to create?" She shook her head. She prayed to the Lion asking to watch over Alanna and to keep her safe or see her safely to the after life.

"Something doesn't feel right..." James thought to himself looking around the room "if they have so much money then why-"
Robin asked his son if something was bothering him
"No, it's nothing father." James said without a hint of hesitation.

"Just get your head down James. We'll be back home soon."

Robin spotted a regal animal trot along outside their door. Enthralled by the creature, Robin poked his head outside the door and watched the four legged beast happily continue walking in no particular direction.

"I think your sister might like one of those."

Since he was fairly certain of what was at the top of the hill, Corwyn's curiosity and urge to find out what had happened was much less than that of his travel buddies.

While they went up to survey the probable carnage, he remained at the bottom of the hill, gathering the bodies of the dead soldiers.

He took a slight moment to think, and then began working.
Focusing, he created metal rods inside each of the bodies, to keep them stiff.
Then, using the strength given to him by the souls he carried, he picked up the bodies like a father would his son, and placed them carefully in formation.
This went on for at least half an hour, and when Corwyn was done, he stepped back and surveyed his handiwork.

He had used all of the corpses created in the fight that were not turned into ash, and built a gruesome, glorious shelter out of them. The four walls were made up of 3 people apiece, and the roof was four soldiers, leaning against one another, with various body parts filling in the gaps between them.

Elated, Corwyn did a little jig, and barely noticed the return of the two magicians.

Irene sat in the bar of the tavern the

, sipping of what should be clear water. The stench of sweat and smoke hung in the air, and it was hard to breathe in the thick atmosphere. They had traveled to the nearest town, realizing that even in the wilderness they weren't safe. It was a small community, with the only relation to the First Legion being a small church and a guard post with five soldiers. Irene was thinking of the mindless slaughter while staring at Corwyn, who was doing a ventriloquism act with a shrunken head. Much to the humor of the drunken bystanders.

The noises gave her a headache, so she retreated into her silent core. The noises dimmed somewhat, but she couldn't concentrate well enough to stay in her core.

She sighed and took another sip.

Telemain staggered down the stairs, followed by the wench that had lead him upstairs nearly an hour prior. The old man stumbled on the uneven floorboards and plopped himself down next to Irene. "Bar'ender, ge me anuther drink... I'm, *HIC* I'm good fer anuther." The bartender eyed him suspiciously. "As long as you pay your tab, sir," he said while sliding the mug down the counter into Telemain's open hand. He took a swig and yipped with glee. "I 'aven't 'ad thish much fun since before the war!"


The mouse crawled out onto Shapely-Big-Shape's sleeve and sniffed the blot of liquid soaked into the fabric. It smelled sweet. He licked at it and liked the taste. After several licks, the mouse felt very strange....

With Irene and Telemain obviously busy, her with her separation from the noise, and he with his drink, Corwyn decided it would be good to deal with the guards at the Legion post they had seen earlier.

Leaving the two magicians to their solaces, he slipped out of the bar into the night.
The clean air was a nice, refreshing change from the haze inside the dive.

The instant he left the circle of light cast by the lanterns around the tavern, Corwyn was nearly invisible. Using the cover provided by the dark shadows around the other buildings, he crept ever closer to the outpost.

In short time, the post was in sight. Climbing onto a rooftop, Corwyn took time to survey the area.

One of the guards was on patrol, and seemed to be vigilant. Another was reclining in a chair, and it looked like he was sleeping. Two more were around a fire, with their armor off, and talking to one another. It was another minute before the fifth guard showed up, and the reason for his late appearance was obvious. The man was blind drunk. This last man made their observer smile with glee.

Remembering the path the patrolling man was taking, Corwyn moved into the limbs of a tree that the man passed under every time. Hanging from his knees, he pulled out one of his father's daggers, and waited. Scant moments later, the man walked underneath the tree. As soon as he was within arm's reach, Corwyn seized the man's breastplate, and yanked him up into the limbs, while shoving the knife into the soft underside of the guard's jaw.
Twitching, the man tried to yell for help, but all that was released was a wet, rasping noise as air rushed past the blade. As he bled out, the man's last sight was of Corwyn's wide grin, and a pair of odd eyes that seemed to sink into forever.

With the man's death, one more soul was brought under Corwyn's control. Carrying the corpse, he jumped up a few branches, until he was roughly halfway up the tree, where he impaled the guard on his own sword, in order to keep him out of sight.

That completed, he flipped out of the branches, and moved towards the sleeping guard. At 15 feet away, he realized there was far too much light for him to feel secure in attacking unnoticed. Instead of using his knife this time, he focused on the slumbering oaf's blood stream. When he was sufficiently focused, he blocked the flow of the every vessel leading to and from the man's heart. He died instantly, and noiselessly, as Corwyn gained another dead man's soul.

By this point, the man who had shown up drunk was passed out next to his flask of booze. The two men sitting by the fire were close by, engrossed in their conversation about a recent fight they had broken up. They were so intent on boasting to the other that they failed to notice as Corwyn concentrated on the flask next to the unconscious man. Moving it closer to the conversing fools, he started to make small cracks in it. Finally, when he felt it was within range, Corwyn unleashed a bolt of energy, breaking the flask, and spattering the contents all over the duo. Before they had time to react, Corwyn had gained some control over their roaring fire, and sent a handful of the inferno into each man.

The flammable liquid on their chests burst into flame, and burned through their throats before they had enough time to scream. As he observed the walking matchsticks, Corwyn began a low, throaty laugh. When they collapsed at last, he went over and stepped on their heads as well, and enjoyed the rush he always felt with any newly gained soul.

The last guard was still out cold, so Corwyn walked directly over to the man, and took his longsword out of the scabbard. After Corwyn splashed cold water on the man's face, the guard awoke with a start.

Looking around himself, he realized quickly that the men by the fire were dead. In shock, he still stumbled over to them and tried to revive them. Then, looking over at the man in the shack, he brightened, as the man's position had not changed since he last saw him. Nearly collapsing on the man, the last guard alive hugged his pal for a minute before realizing that his partner's skin was not quite right. Standing up, he noticed the clouded eyes and slack face, and the last vestiges of sanity were eradicated from his mind.

He came out of the shack, barely upright, and fell to his knees, then to his hands.
Corwyn watched the man crying for a good minute and a half before stepping into his line of sight. Looking up, the confused oaf could barely make out the dark form in front of him. Clearing his tears, he began to stand up when Corwyn ran the man's sword down his throat, out his back, and then into the wall of the shack behind him. As the man died, Corwyn took a deep bow, and spoke for the first time that night.
"Say hello to your friends for me."

When the man went slack, Corwyn could no longer contain himself, and began to laugh uncontrollably. This went on for a few minutes, and then he regained his composure, and walked back to the bar, to meet up with his companions.

Strolling up to Irene, he whispered to her.
"It may be best if we leave early in the morning. Just a suggestion."
With that, and a wry smile, he walked off, leaving a bloody fingerprint on her arm.

"hmmmmmm wus dat ms scurry?" mumbled william
"sqeak sqeak"
"ho ho was dis weh havs eres? slave girls?"

"ahem just one" she answerd
"yeh ahs know dat, I taught deh kills yeh"
"they will, I'm to be sacrificed for temujins funeral"
"well well looks liek yer last cumpeny will beh a prisoner foriner and a mouse,"

It was the crack of dawn, and a small group of people had gathered in a big red tent in the middle of the palace grounds, the imperial insigna flying high above it.
In the group were mostly generals and and advisers, plus Tergutai, Robin and his son.

In the middle of the tent was a large ebony table, and on top of that, many maps, each of them in minute and exhaustive detail, drawn down by the Empire's many explorers and cartographers.

"The invsion will be planned this way:" started Targutai.

"At this moment, in the docks of all of our most southern provinces, sturdy ships are being constructed. We will divide the army in two. My brother, Bahlukka, will take control of one half, mostly horsemen and camel riders. He will also be in command of our Elephant battallion. He will head out from the Empire's westmost province, and march until the reach the other side of the continent. I will command the second half, which will navigate it's way Northwest and up, until reaching the docks of Keldrid's capital, here we will land, set up camp outside of the city, and reunite with Bahlukka's half of the army." explained Targutai, his knuckles planted firmly in the ebony table, his look shifting from person to person.

"Then we will prepare an attack on these... magicians, and after that we will hopefully be able to shift our attention to the Felines." he finished, now looking at Robin.

Robin nodded. If only for now, he would play along. Their help was too great to pass up. James wandered about behind him, looking at the maps on the table. Obviously, he didn't know what any of it meant.

"The First Legion's primary forces will march with you, as well as myself and my son. We'll keep half of my troops at the base, whilst the rest of my troops will mount the fake assault on the Feline terrortory. The First Legion will equip and look after all of the Eastern Empire's troops once they reach us."

Robin turned to Terguai, talking to him directly.

"Which group will you march with?"

"I will go by ship, navigating westwards along the coast, until we will reach your lands." he said.

"Now, Is everything clear?"


Robin nodded to his son, and looked toward the alien faces in the room.

"Was there anything else?"

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