GLOBAL STORY UPDATE: LOREOS: THE PRINCE AND SHADOWS (part2)
Oct 23, 2015 5:58:34 GMT -8
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Post by Mark of Falworth on Oct 23, 2015 5:58:34 GMT -8
(LoR) A Foreboding Message. by Mark E., on Flickr
Mark of Falworth and his force of Loreesi soldiers had camped so long on the border of Lenfald that they had forgotten what it was like to feel the sand beneath their feet.
Mark stood underneath a small cluster of trees with some of the knights in his army when his second-in-command Sir Didrik strolled up.
“Greetings Sir Didrik. How are you today, on this damp and miserable morning?”
Didrik saluted. “Tolerable, Sir. I have some news from the Prince.”
Mark winced and closed his eyes as if in deep pain. “Don’t raise my hopes again, just to dash them as on the ragged cliffs!”
Didrik did his best to look sympathetic. “My apologies, sir, but it seems we will have to wait longer to raise our sword against the Lenfel.”
Mark hung his head in grief. “I fear I shall never live to see another glorious war… Ah! It is of no use. What ridiculous stunt does his majesty require us to do THIS time?”
Didrik cheerfully raised the scroll he was carrying. “Fear not, Sire! It seems that the army is free to depart from the border!”
Mark’s dark mood was considerably lightened by the news. “Well, that’s a nice change for the better!”
Didrik looked back at his scroll in concern. “But, there is one small issue, he wants you personally to come at once to Dalmanutha. His tone seems rather angry… perhaps you should read it yourself.”
Mark snatched the paper from his aide, cleared his throat and read it out loud.
“Dear Mark,
Your force is no doubt weary of guarding the river. It seems unlikely the Lenfels will launch an invasion before the new year, and we had best keep our own men fresh and ready for the time of need. Send them all home for the winter, or until further notice.
But as for you, I hear you have been undermining my rule of our people. Making jokes of my reasonable, sensible requests? This will end. Right now. Come to the capital at once, or suffer the consequences.
Kind regards,
~Jarius”
Mark looked up from the letter with a grave look on his face. “So, it has come to this…”
Didrik’s eyes widened in fear. “What is our course of action, Mark?”
Mark clenched both his fists and snarled. “The warrior inside me wants to march my entire force down to the capital and knock the doors of the palace down right in Jarius’ face!!”
Suddenly, Mark caught himself. His passions and anger had gotten the better of him. He looked away quickly. “But my father wouldn’t want it so… A divided Loreos is a dead Loreos. I shall never be the first to strike the death blow. We shall do as the Jarius asks, one more time…”
To Be Continued!
Next part will be posted by myself tomorrow!
(LoR) Disguised in the Desert. by Mark E., on Flickr
Mark of Falworth and his loyal sidekick, Didrik, set out for Dalmanutha after receiving the ominous message from Prince Jarius. Little did they realize that the Prince sent several groups of Loreesi knights to lie in wait alongside the road, and forcibly escort Mark to the capital city. Luckily for our heroes, an over-friendly used camel dealer by the name of Yursuff was heading the opposite direction and warned Mark and Didrik of the waiting force. Mark, not wishing to be surrounded, and perhaps arrested, by a sizeable group of possibly hostile knights, thought it wise to sneak by in the disguise of other used camel dealers accompanying the ever-helpful Yursuff.
After reaching the great dry expanse of desert, Mark grumbled about the situation. “I can still hardly believe that used camel dealers don’t occasionally ride thoroughbreds…”
Yursuff piped up indignantly. “Eyyyyah! It would-a be a crying shame for a man of the camels to be seen-a riding a horse!”
Mark rolled his eyes. “Did you ever think that it would also be an enormous shame for a noble knight to be seen riding a disgusting camel?!”
Yursuff smiled, revealing his seven teeth. “I’m-a not the one who made-a you go around in disguise.”
Mark sighed deeply. “Yes, this situation is my doing. I’m sorry Yursuff, it’s not your fault. These weighty matters are making me irritable, and you’ve been a great help. Why, without you, we might be in chains by now!”
Didrik tightened the reigns on his camel. “Jarius does seems to want you arrested, Mark. Do you still think it wise to head to the capital? The Prince may be seeking to end you!”
Mark rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It does seem to be a dangerous state of affairs, Didrik. But I think my refusing his summons by hiding may be just the provocation he needs to condemn me. No, we must head to Dalmanutha. But that doesn’t mean we can’t arrive in a quiet and unseen manner.”
Didrik scratched his head. “So, we are to sneak in to the city?”
Mark nodded. “Yes, for a while there, I wished to be at odds with the Prince, and I was even eager for a civil war. Now I feel that I could never forgive myself if I were to raise my sword against my countrymen. I will try to reason with him alone before such a calamity takes place.”
Didrik wiped the sweat from his brow. “That’s probably the best thing to do, but for heaven’s sake, do be careful. Loreos would quickly crumble apart if you were beheaded.”
Mark swallowed hard. “Hopefully Jarius won’t have a desire or chance to do that. I can handle a good amount of armed troops myself, and I think the Areani are more favorable to me than the Prince. In fact, I hope they haven’t tried anything against him…” At this point Mark began to seriously ponder the possibility of Areani interference, but his musings were interrupted when Yursuff pointed towards to horizon. “Well I hope-a everything is okay-dokay. Cause thay-a is the city.”
To Be Continued!
One more post from me and then it's back to Matt!
(LoR) The Western Gate. by Mark E., on Flickr
Mark of Falworth and his companions finally arrived at the gates of the capital of Loreos at the crack of dawn. The huge walls stretched for miles and presented an unavoidable obstacle for any invading force. But now the towers and fortifications presented a different purpose, they stood as a dividing wall between two sides to a potential struggle of epic proportions, a struggle between Jarius Lorean, and Mark of Falworth.
The three travelers paused beneath the shadow of the entrance, barely a soul stirred to distract their preoccupied gaze.
Yursuff was the first to break the suspenseful silence. “See-a! I-a told you I could-a get you to da Capatal saflee!”
Mark turned around to face his companions with a look of amusement. “Yes, Yursuff. We never should have doubted you.”
Didrik was not completely convinced of their safety, and he eyed the city watch on the walls with a nervous glance. “Are you sure you want to go in alone, Mark? Surely, Yursuff and I could lend you aid should the prince attempt any evils against you.”
Mark shook his head and smiled. “I thank you both for your loyalty, but this is something I must do alone. Jarius wants to see me, and probably kill me. But I’ve been able to survive worse odds before and I need someone to carry some messages should I somehow not make it out.”
Didrik looked surprised. “Messages? For whom?”
Mark gestured with his arm in order to emphasize his directions. “Here is the plan. I go to see Jarius alone. But once I leave you, you begin to count the minutes. After one hour, and if I have not come back, you head for Capernaum post haste, where you will alert my forces of what has happened. They can choose to either strike out against the Prince, who has either captured or killed his own nephew, or they can disperse, and my name will soon be forgotten from history. Understood?”
Didrik’s brow wrinkled in distress at the thought of his friend being forgotten. “Why, every soldier in the army would give his life for your cause, Mark! We would never let history forget you!”
Mark adjusted his turban. “Don’t despair yet, Didrik! Before the hour is up, you may hear that the Prince, the Palace Guard, the City Watch, the Military Garrison and the Royal Fleet in the harbor have been overcome by me, and that I am master of the entire city! But if things should fare badly with me, and I come bursting out the gates hotly pursued by the Prince, it would be wise to be ready to run just in case.”
Didrik tried his best not to smile at the irony and ridiculous impossibility of both scenarios. “Understood, Sir. Good luck.”
Mark turned and began to walk to the gates but before he entered he whirled around and called out behind him. “Farewell my friends! Pray all goes well!”
To Be Continued!
Mark of Falworth and his force of Loreesi soldiers had camped so long on the border of Lenfald that they had forgotten what it was like to feel the sand beneath their feet.
Mark stood underneath a small cluster of trees with some of the knights in his army when his second-in-command Sir Didrik strolled up.
“Greetings Sir Didrik. How are you today, on this damp and miserable morning?”
Didrik saluted. “Tolerable, Sir. I have some news from the Prince.”
Mark winced and closed his eyes as if in deep pain. “Don’t raise my hopes again, just to dash them as on the ragged cliffs!”
Didrik did his best to look sympathetic. “My apologies, sir, but it seems we will have to wait longer to raise our sword against the Lenfel.”
Mark hung his head in grief. “I fear I shall never live to see another glorious war… Ah! It is of no use. What ridiculous stunt does his majesty require us to do THIS time?”
Didrik cheerfully raised the scroll he was carrying. “Fear not, Sire! It seems that the army is free to depart from the border!”
Mark’s dark mood was considerably lightened by the news. “Well, that’s a nice change for the better!”
Didrik looked back at his scroll in concern. “But, there is one small issue, he wants you personally to come at once to Dalmanutha. His tone seems rather angry… perhaps you should read it yourself.”
Mark snatched the paper from his aide, cleared his throat and read it out loud.
“Dear Mark,
Your force is no doubt weary of guarding the river. It seems unlikely the Lenfels will launch an invasion before the new year, and we had best keep our own men fresh and ready for the time of need. Send them all home for the winter, or until further notice.
But as for you, I hear you have been undermining my rule of our people. Making jokes of my reasonable, sensible requests? This will end. Right now. Come to the capital at once, or suffer the consequences.
Kind regards,
~Jarius”
Mark looked up from the letter with a grave look on his face. “So, it has come to this…”
Didrik’s eyes widened in fear. “What is our course of action, Mark?”
Mark clenched both his fists and snarled. “The warrior inside me wants to march my entire force down to the capital and knock the doors of the palace down right in Jarius’ face!!”
Suddenly, Mark caught himself. His passions and anger had gotten the better of him. He looked away quickly. “But my father wouldn’t want it so… A divided Loreos is a dead Loreos. I shall never be the first to strike the death blow. We shall do as the Jarius asks, one more time…”
To Be Continued!
(LoR) Disguised in the Desert. by Mark E., on Flickr
Mark of Falworth and his loyal sidekick, Didrik, set out for Dalmanutha after receiving the ominous message from Prince Jarius. Little did they realize that the Prince sent several groups of Loreesi knights to lie in wait alongside the road, and forcibly escort Mark to the capital city. Luckily for our heroes, an over-friendly used camel dealer by the name of Yursuff was heading the opposite direction and warned Mark and Didrik of the waiting force. Mark, not wishing to be surrounded, and perhaps arrested, by a sizeable group of possibly hostile knights, thought it wise to sneak by in the disguise of other used camel dealers accompanying the ever-helpful Yursuff.
After reaching the great dry expanse of desert, Mark grumbled about the situation. “I can still hardly believe that used camel dealers don’t occasionally ride thoroughbreds…”
Yursuff piped up indignantly. “Eyyyyah! It would-a be a crying shame for a man of the camels to be seen-a riding a horse!”
Mark rolled his eyes. “Did you ever think that it would also be an enormous shame for a noble knight to be seen riding a disgusting camel?!”
Yursuff smiled, revealing his seven teeth. “I’m-a not the one who made-a you go around in disguise.”
Mark sighed deeply. “Yes, this situation is my doing. I’m sorry Yursuff, it’s not your fault. These weighty matters are making me irritable, and you’ve been a great help. Why, without you, we might be in chains by now!”
Didrik tightened the reigns on his camel. “Jarius does seems to want you arrested, Mark. Do you still think it wise to head to the capital? The Prince may be seeking to end you!”
Mark rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It does seem to be a dangerous state of affairs, Didrik. But I think my refusing his summons by hiding may be just the provocation he needs to condemn me. No, we must head to Dalmanutha. But that doesn’t mean we can’t arrive in a quiet and unseen manner.”
Didrik scratched his head. “So, we are to sneak in to the city?”
Mark nodded. “Yes, for a while there, I wished to be at odds with the Prince, and I was even eager for a civil war. Now I feel that I could never forgive myself if I were to raise my sword against my countrymen. I will try to reason with him alone before such a calamity takes place.”
Didrik wiped the sweat from his brow. “That’s probably the best thing to do, but for heaven’s sake, do be careful. Loreos would quickly crumble apart if you were beheaded.”
Mark swallowed hard. “Hopefully Jarius won’t have a desire or chance to do that. I can handle a good amount of armed troops myself, and I think the Areani are more favorable to me than the Prince. In fact, I hope they haven’t tried anything against him…” At this point Mark began to seriously ponder the possibility of Areani interference, but his musings were interrupted when Yursuff pointed towards to horizon. “Well I hope-a everything is okay-dokay. Cause thay-a is the city.”
To Be Continued!
(LoR) The Western Gate. by Mark E., on Flickr
Mark of Falworth and his companions finally arrived at the gates of the capital of Loreos at the crack of dawn. The huge walls stretched for miles and presented an unavoidable obstacle for any invading force. But now the towers and fortifications presented a different purpose, they stood as a dividing wall between two sides to a potential struggle of epic proportions, a struggle between Jarius Lorean, and Mark of Falworth.
The three travelers paused beneath the shadow of the entrance, barely a soul stirred to distract their preoccupied gaze.
Yursuff was the first to break the suspenseful silence. “See-a! I-a told you I could-a get you to da Capatal saflee!”
Mark turned around to face his companions with a look of amusement. “Yes, Yursuff. We never should have doubted you.”
Didrik was not completely convinced of their safety, and he eyed the city watch on the walls with a nervous glance. “Are you sure you want to go in alone, Mark? Surely, Yursuff and I could lend you aid should the prince attempt any evils against you.”
Mark shook his head and smiled. “I thank you both for your loyalty, but this is something I must do alone. Jarius wants to see me, and probably kill me. But I’ve been able to survive worse odds before and I need someone to carry some messages should I somehow not make it out.”
Didrik looked surprised. “Messages? For whom?”
Mark gestured with his arm in order to emphasize his directions. “Here is the plan. I go to see Jarius alone. But once I leave you, you begin to count the minutes. After one hour, and if I have not come back, you head for Capernaum post haste, where you will alert my forces of what has happened. They can choose to either strike out against the Prince, who has either captured or killed his own nephew, or they can disperse, and my name will soon be forgotten from history. Understood?”
Didrik’s brow wrinkled in distress at the thought of his friend being forgotten. “Why, every soldier in the army would give his life for your cause, Mark! We would never let history forget you!”
Mark adjusted his turban. “Don’t despair yet, Didrik! Before the hour is up, you may hear that the Prince, the Palace Guard, the City Watch, the Military Garrison and the Royal Fleet in the harbor have been overcome by me, and that I am master of the entire city! But if things should fare badly with me, and I come bursting out the gates hotly pursued by the Prince, it would be wise to be ready to run just in case.”
Didrik tried his best not to smile at the irony and ridiculous impossibility of both scenarios. “Understood, Sir. Good luck.”
Mark turned and began to walk to the gates but before he entered he whirled around and called out behind him. “Farewell my friends! Pray all goes well!”
To Be Continued!