The morning dew froze Caehdin's feet to numbness as he clutched his wooden cane. He tried to think of happy times as he watched the blurry dot that was a foreign horseman grow. Perhaps recalling when he'd found the hunter in the woods from Axlhal and saved his life, and then the man chose to remain in Hazgrad and had single-handedly helped increase the city's meat supply by training some of its younger hunters and trappers. Or perhaps he would remember the folks who'd landed on their shores and had stayed in Hazgrad for some time, always complimenting Caehdin at how finely the tools were crafted. But instead all that ran through his mind was sorrow.

He knew that today was the day that this horseman would arrive, and he knew what the horseman would ask. In the name of Mhelrisse, he'd state that Caehdin must surrender Hazgrad into the mighty Ghaulish Empire, and Caehdin knew that if he denied to do so, the horseman would return to Mhelrisse, give this news to his king, and then Caehdin's beloved son would be killed. A tear came to his eye, blurring his old vision even more. He coughed, his lungs stinging with the acute pain that the crisp morning air brought. Winter had not ended so long ago that it's icy presence was completely driven from the land.

When the horseman was close enough that Caehdin could tell the length of his bow, the man slowed his horse to rest. He was alone, as was Caehdin, but far off, a large blur, more horsemen, backed this lone-rider, and Caehdin knew that behind him, eyes watched.

The messenger pulled out a rolled length of leather. From it, he read.

"As demanded by the king of the mighty and ever-increasing Ghaulish Empire, Mhelrisse the Dark-Wolf, high ruler of these lands, your province and its inhabitants are hereby under his rule. If you choose to deny your new king, then it is his order to swiftly execute the life of Keegan Caehdin, after which event shall follow the take-over of Hazgrad through the use of unyielding force. If you comply with your lord's orders, then a troupe of his guard shall immeadiatly inhabit Hazgrad, seizing all civilan and military arms, and hold Hazgrad in this way until Mhelrisse the Dark Wolf himself graces it and establishes it. Do you comply."

Caehdin never flinched at the harsh words. He'd known what he would risk and what he would lose. He loved his son, but they both had a love and duty to Hazgrad high above any mortal love or duty either could ever possess, even to each-other. Suddenly, the frail looking man spoke out in a powerful voice.

"Keegan may pass on into peace, I may pass on into peace, and more loyal to Hazgrad may pass on into peace, but before any of us have peace, there will be war, for without this unavoidable war, Hazgrad's people would not be free. And freedom is above both war and peace. Freedom is something worth dying for. I refuse to comply with your warlord's wishes, and will deny him perpetually, even as your army scraps to take this place."

"Then you shall feel the heavy strike of his military! You call him a warlord, now you shall see why! Huter!"

With the command to his horse, the man turned about and rode back down the path. Another tear formed in Caehdin's eye. He took a shaky breath and whispered into the wind.

"I love you son. Be at peace and wait for me there, for I will not be long. I have started this, but I cannot finish it. We will watch over our home in hopes that it remains free. Gevegrad to Hazgrad, gevegrad."

And so, the messenger and his blur went back from where it came. Caehdin's own scouts had reported that Mhelrisse's men were not far away. Caehdin would have to act fast now, to get his forces into a position from where they could have some slim advantage. He already knew the place. With Hazgrad's setting, deep in a large wood, with only one way in for Mhelrisse's army from where he was, there was a location where he might be able to hold him. Hold him and wait. Hold him and hope. Hold him and fight.

Now begins Hazgrad's struggle as the old king turns back to his small domain, filled with no more than a few hundred citizens, well-established, but not made for war, not fortified enough to withstand an empire's seige. A city built upon prosperity through production, not upon a mighty garrison. But their tools would soon have to become weapons if they truly thirsted for freedom, for war was now upon them as the old king entered the city and looked sadly upon it.



Like the morning, Hazgrad's future was cloudy...


-----*-----


Caelmot yawned and slowly got himself from his bunk onto his feet. He was freezing away from the warmth of his furs and wool that were his bedding. He knew it would warm up though as the sun stayed out. He walked into his father's forge and stoked the fire for the day. It grew hotter and hotter until he knew it was hot enough for the time being. Suddenly, a hand grasped his shoulder. His father smiled down on him. Caelmot took a breath and concentrated. He wanted to go try to hunt again today, and he wasn't sure how his father would receive the request. However, he simply had to ask.

"Father, may I join the hunters again today?"

Gabhiu scratched his bearded chin.

"No. However, I do need for you to go out and buy some things for me. I have a list drawn up and a pouch of coins on the table. Go on now, waisted time cannot be gotten back again."

Caelmot went and got the things and left the forge, heading for the bakery. It was already warmer, and Caelmot couldn't help but smile at the chance to get out of the forge.

[~OOC~]
I am not sure what we are supposed to do here, but I'll play along.
[/~OOC~]




Victorius walked around the small barbarian town, its undeveloped streets, seemed so dark in the morning, but its population was filled with life, it’s people started doing their everyday activities. He had a job last night, to kill some man, who supposedly brought shame to the Pub Keepers Family. He completed his job without a problem and as cold bloodedly as usual. He knew the pay will not be great, but he needed all the resources he can get right now. Every assassins main weapons is information, mostly obtained trough Gossip and rumors and from what he gathered dark times where coming to this land, dark, but profitable if you play your cards right.
He got carries away as he was passing by some shops and bumped into a young lad he recognized as the son of Gabhiu the Smith. A man who he helped him in the creation of his “tools”.
Watch where you go boy, or I will pay a visit to your father.
-He said, his face hard to figure out from beneath the silver hood, but his arms where very close to the place where he had one of his daggers…
Well what do you have to say for yourself boy?
-yelled the exiled Greek, and the innocent lad, who had done nothing wrong. It was clear something was bothering him, and the boy was just a puppet for him to throw his anger on…

Septimius awoke with a jolt. He rolled off his bunk and quickly changed from his night clothes to his day ones, which were a leather tunic and a pair of pants. His parents were not in the house when he stepped out of his sleeping room. It did not bother him much, as his father was a hunter and his mother was normally selling foodstuffs and such in the marketplace. Septimius remembered yesterday that his father had given him a few coins in a furry leather pouch, and that he had left it on the clay table. They were for bread, he had said. Go pick some up tomorrow if you're hungry. I must hunt that day, and your mother is busy in the marketplace. Quickly he backtracked over to the table, picked the pouch up gingerly, and ran over to the bakery. As he breathed in the air, he felt something special in that day. Something...

"So sorry sir, please forgive me, I must be on my way."

Caelmot backed cautiously away from the hooded man. He could not tell if he'd ever seen him before, but he did not sound or seem familiar. As he turned, he almost bumped into another person. He backed up, feeling stupid and clumsy at first, then simply embarrassed. Their king stood before him. He bowed his head.

"King Caehdin! Forgive me sir, I am so sorry. Please forgive me sir, I was rushing and I-"

The man raised his hand for silence, not looking at the boy, but beyond him. Caelmot noticed one of the garrison's soldiers behind him, with a horn to his mouth. Caelmot winced at the loud resonate sound that emanated from the cornual instrument. From the garrison itself and from the town's centre, two other horns responded. The king proceeded to the small nearby stage that was located next to the town's centre. He waited for the town to assemble itself before him, for his announcement had to reach all ears.




{OOC: All those participating, please assemble for the announcement.}

Victorius quickly ran towards the Pub which was not a long distance away, the owner was already waiting with the small sack of gold. He took it and nodded, then climbed up a tree near it, and soon after climbing he found himself on a roof top of a building, down bellow was the crowd was prepering to hear an anouncment. He disliked being in a crowd, instead he was on the roof, where he could hear it all, and have control over the situation if a conflict broke out...

Alice went with the crowd, not quite sure what was happenieng, having only arrived in town today.

She was pushed and pulled but she made herslef there, just as some knightly looking figure starrted to speak

Septimius was already half-way to the bakery, but as he heard the loud quailing of the horns, he swiveled around and ran towards the stage. In his years of experience with the town, he had learned that horns blowing meant the king was to speak. He, of course, always respected what the old one said, and without waiting for his parents to catch up to him, managed to place himself near the front of the crowd. The jostling of the crowd in back as each attempted to get to the front quickly transmitted itself to the front, and he was suddenly pushed down by a dour-faced woman making an improbably unlikely attempt at simply bulldozing her way through the crowd, with the result that she and a few others had been pushed, himself one of them. Only the fact that his odd pose resulted in a rather impressive sense of balance prevented him from falling down on the dirt and perhaps being trampled unceremoniously upon. Dusting himself off, he glanced at the other eight or nine being trampled unmercifully over. Sighing, he grasped one's arm tightly and lifted the one up, then did the same with all of them...

Caehdin watched the hubbub of the crowd. His heart was still heavy, and he could feel his will to live only go so far as Hazgrad. Hazgrad's existence was all that drove him. He could feel his life's strength dissipate with every passing moment. He sighed at the thought and at the unsettled crowd that formed before him, then raised his hand to speak.

"Please, assemble and be at ease. This stage was made so the speaker's voice could reach all ears, alas, settle yourselves and be attentive. As you all have likely heard, last week the heir to my position, my only son, went missing. What only a handful of you knew is that he was abducted by a warlord to the south and west of us, known as Mhelrisse. Mhelrisse's men currently hold him in custody within their lands. This is a small matter compared to what Mhelrisse's intentions are."

Caehdin took a moment to compose his next words carefully.

"Mhelrisse has taken over many lands already, for those of you who have until now been oblivious. He has recently taken Axlhal, our neighbors to the south, and Pepridge, just west. Now, he aims for us. I've heard tell that he commands an army in the thousands. Our scouts report that this gossip may now be dwarfed by its new size."

He was stopped for a moment by the murmur that ran through the crowd. He lifted his hand for silence, then spoke again.

"As you might suppose, he plans to take Hazgrad next. This morning, I went out to the western path into Hazgrad, and there came a messenger from Mhelrisse's army. The Ghaulman said that I must surrender Hazgrad to this tyrannical Mhelrisse or have my son killed and war declared upon us. I chose war."

Once more, he paused, but then his voice rose above the murmur and now the few shouts that came his way.

"I chose war! I did not choose it because I wished for Hazgrad to go down with my son, but because with what few choices I had, it left hope. Yes, their army is many times the size of our garrison, of our population even, but if I had surrendered, we would have had nothing. With the tales I've heard of the Ghaulish king, of his grand army, I've also heard that his taxes are heavy, so heavy that those beneath him are as slaves. Their right to choose their profession bereft, their stocks depleted to his tariffs, and his guard does as it pleases to the women, in wedlock or not. Knowing this, I say I will not stand to let our food be fowled by his belly, not let our women be defaced by his army, nor let our children starve as our stock is claimed by Mhelrisse the Dark Wolf. Instead, I sacrificed my sons life, I will sacrifice my own life as well, to keep Hazgrad free. Now, as I said, our garrison is no match to their numbers. So, I ask you fine citizens, in the time of your state's need, caste off the safety of your professions and take up arms against this oppressor. It is not fair for a man who not a soul here has ever seen to claim right to what you've worked so hard to maintain as yours and Hazgrad's! I will not stand for Mhelrisse's ignorant greed, and neither should you! Who will risk their lives and take up arms against this dark evil in the name of a chance for our children's future and in the name of your natural born right to freedom? Who shall, raise your hands with pride!"

Caehdin rose his hand and waited for hands in the crowd to sprout up as well.

Caelmot's heart beat madly. His king always had a way of empowering his essence in a way few others could. He'd never heard of this Mhelrisse, nor seen nor met him, but he thrust his hand in the air against what he stood for. Evil, darkness, greed, oppression, tyranny, ignorance...that these acts were aimed at Hazgrad, at him, his father, everyone he'd ever met who lived within the city's walls, that is what made his hand shoot up into the air, and he almost felt himself smile at how strong it made him feel to oppose such evils.

Victorius, jumped off the small roof and landed not so far from the crowd.
Well, this land is dealt with, these farmers will not have the power to stand up against the powerful army..
He turned away facing the gate, but something made him change his mind, something reminded him of his own lands, and the great shadow that fell on them. He turned once again to the place where the King stood, if anything the newly made army will need a professional like himself. The noble Greeks had the saying ” Impossible Is Nothing”.
He walked towards the crowd, keeping his hand in the air, he was going to help these people, and even if it costs him his life, besides he knew he will get his revenge in this life or the next.

Running from his shabby home near the central of the city, Tork rushed to the center square. His parents, growing very weak with age, could not go to the king's speech themselves and so they had sent Torcassio by himself to relay the news to them. He had gotten ready fairly slowly - getting dressed and equipping his shabby and tarnished sword - but then had realized he was getting late and that the announcements were probably already started.

He was lucky, for the speech had only just begun when he arrived. He heard the king's message and was astounded at what he heard. "War?" he said quietly, for he had not known much of the town's affairs until recently. His extent of knowledge was that the town was going through some hard times, but never of any news of war.

He noticed a boy his age standing beside him with a perplexing gaze in his eyes. "Hey you. I haven't seen you before, what's your name? I'm Tork," he said, sticking out his hand to shake.




[OOC]That was directed towards your character Caelmot. I say it here because I had posted last in the OOC thread. XD[/OOC]




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