114 Repor
Light once again appeared over the horizon, beating back the darkness of the night. Pure white snow reflected the burgeoning sunlight, sparkling like an endless field of precious gems. Small animal tracks crisscrossed in the deep snow, running underneath leafless bushes and through brambles thick with thorns. An eerie silence pervaded the area, any sound made by the inhabitants of the forest was muffled by the thick blanket of late winter snow.
The snort of a horse broke the early morning silence, sending the timid field mice back down into their burrows. Pushing through snow that nearly came up to its belly, the horse was urged on by the man riding atop it. No trail ran through this section of forest, they were blazing their own path, an urgent report in hand. The man had been traveling for a full day, with no rest, for either him or his steed. The deep snow had impeded his travels, but not nearly as much as the monsters.
Monsters had never been a problem before, they were exceedingly rare to see roaming around the surface. The only places they were known to inhabit, other than the subterranean dungeons, were remote areas, and only when the dungeons in those areas overflowed. Even then, parties of adventurers would be dispatched to those forlorn reaches of the world in order to cull any of the savage beasts or undead monstrosities making the surface their home.
Enraged mutated bears, wolves the size of horses, rabbits with fangs the size of a man's pointer finger; it seemed as if the entirety of the fauna found in the Cassian Forest had completed some macabre metamorphosis. Scores of adventurers had been assigned the vital mission of uncovering the source of the surging beasts, but so far, none had been successful. More had been swallowed whole by the dark forest than had returned from it, and those that had, told tales of a barren landscape that not even the winter snow dare touch. That was the reason the man on the horse had decided to swing several miles east of that dark, foreboding forest, adding a considerable amount of time to his journey, but most likely extending his life as well.
Several hours passed by uneventfully, the quiet winter day slowly melded into a silent winter night. The man huddled close to his saddled, the winter breeze biting and clawing at his shivering body. A far-off symphony of howls cut through the winter air, causing his horse to pause its methodical steps. The man too perked up his ears, but after several minutes of silence, urged his mount back into motion. He figured the calls were miles away, signifying some other unlucky soul's demise, and had no bearing on his journey forward.
With the gorgeous full moon, and the help of the white winter snow, he was able to see in front of him as if it was day. A light snowfall began to descend from the heavens, letting him know that winter would not let the world out of its frigid clutches just yet. The tall trees began to thin and shorten, marking the boundary between the untamed forest and the place humans called home. At least they used to.
As he crested a small hill, his eyes cast down onto an expanse of flat, frozen fields hidden underneath an oppressive blanket of snow. Dotted around the hidden fields were farmhouses, there windows as dark and silent as the winter night itself. In the bright winter night, the man could see that no smoke was rising from the chimneys of any of the houses in view, the buildings had been long abandoned, chased from their homes by the flames of war.
He kicked at his horse's sides, urging him onward, slowly making his way down the soft incline of the hill. His destination could now be seen in the distance, massive walls that towered over the landscape like a slumbering giant, topped with fires that radiated harsh, orange light that clashed with the soft light of the moon. He could see several of the smaller flames atop the wall gliding along the ramparts, reminding him of spectral wisps from the deepest and darkest of dungeons, but knew that they were only the torches of the soldiers patrolling their newly occupied city, Nox.
"Open the gates!" A soldier yelled out, quickly followed by another that repeated the order.
Soon enough, the massive iron gate had opened just enough to allow the man and his horse into the city. As soon as he had crossed the threshold, the gate quickly closed, the ground rumbling slightly as it did so.
"Take me to your captain." The man said, dismounting his horse and pulling out a plain looking medallion.
Gingerly, the soldier took the medallion from the man before holding it up to the torch-light, inspecting it closely.
"Right away." The soldier said, handing the medallion back to the man.
…..
"What news do you bring? Surely they can't be making movements in this weather, the snow nearly tickles my balls when I go to relieve myself." A gaudily dressed man joked as a maid poured crimson wine into two crystal glasses resting on a table. "Whatever it is, it must be dreadfully important for you to make such an arduous journey in this awful weather."
Another man, still radiating the frigid winter chill, eyed the maid suspiciously. Waiting for her to finish and leave the room before speaking. "Something's happened."
Taking a sip from his glass, the flamboyant man leaned forward in his plush, leather chair, "The suspense is killing me, please tell?"
"Säravast, it's burning."
Leaning back in his chair, Marquis Mallow swirled the crimson liquid in his glass and stared at the man sitting across from him, the flippant expression on his face morphed into one of utmost seriousness, "tell me what you mean. Leave nothing out."
The Marquis listened intently as the spy retold what had unfolded within the city. He told him of the riots that spread across the shining city like the plague, tarnishing the once peaceful streets with violence and strife. How an unknown creature wrought havoc, completely destroying a large portion of the noble district, and setting fire to the rest before it could be felled. How the city's defenders were forced to turn their blades on the very citizens they swore to protect in order to quell the violent disturbances spreading throughout the city.
As the man sitting across from him finished his report, Marquis Mallow struggled to keep his excitement from showing on his face. With a heavy thud, Marquis Mallow plopped a large leather sack onto the table between them, "Here, your reward. Now leave me."
With a quiet nod, the man deftly stowed the leather sack away, close to his chest, before leaving Marquis Mallow behind with quiet, but heavier steps. Once he had left, Marquis Mallow bolted from his plush leather chair and alighted with eager steps to a large map stretching across the far wall. Drawn on the taut, coarse leather was a rough outline of the entirety of the Kingdom of Morgania, and the southernmost areas of Amine. Pins representing the opposing kingdom's forces were stuck into the fleshy map, showing the stagnant state of the war during the harsh winter months.
He ran his well-manicured fingers over the area representing Säravast, the imperfections in the leather map grating against his soft skin. He moved his hand up to the fortified city of Nox, where he and the army under his command were currently located. The memories of the chaotic past few weeks surged within his mind, causing a vicious grin to spread across his sharp face.
Him, as well as his other hawkish peers had been growing restless over the long reign of peace. His domain had remained the same size since his grandfather's grandfather was gifted the land by the then monarch. He couldn't recall exactly what his ancestor had done to receive the domain, nor did he care to investigate; the point was, that for generations, the lands under his family's control had remained unchanged. Without the ability to expand, the resources that were within his reach had steadily dwindled over the years, while simultaneously becoming more difficult to extract. He knew that maybe within his children's lifetimes, that his domain would become nothing but an empty husk, stripped of anything of value.
That was why, when King Alexander inherited the crown, he and the others urged the young king to take action against those responsible for his father's death. Of course, there were those that argued against engaging in hostilities without first conducting a thorough investigation into the matter, but, with the help of Duke Hutchens, those voices were swiftly silenced. With the kingdom on the path to war, he and the others now had their chance to expand their own power and influence. With a healthy 'donation' of gold and other precious items to Duke Hutchens, he was granted the privilege of commanding the first troops to cross the border.
In no time at all, Amine's army was prepared to lay siege to the fortress city of Nox. Monstrous structures designed to breach Nox's mighty walls were built and painstakingly hauled by dozens of teams of oxen. Supply lines hundreds of miles long were established, granting safe passage to the hundreds of tons of food required to feed the thirty-thousand strong fighting force marching toward the city. The plan was to surround the city, bombard them from afar with the siege machines and magic spells, all the while sending small groups of saboteurs into the city, burning their stocks of food.
It was a simple, but solid plan. The heavy winter snow would hinder any reinforcements from assaulting them as they laid siege to the city, making the attack a lengthy, but leisurely affair. But, as their army approached the city, they found that their previous plan was completely useless. The city's heavy iron gates were left in a state of disrepair, the mechanisms that closed them were frozen with rust. The guards manning the walls tried desperately to close the gates, but nothing could free the seized gears. With nothing barring their entry, Amine's army waltzed into the fortified city with hardly any resistance, taking nearly three-thousand prisoners of war. Several thousand more soldiers and civilians had managed to escape from the opposite gate, but only had to time to take what they could carry, leaving all of the stored supplies safely within the city.
This unexpected, but welcome, turn of events had elevated Marquis Mallow's status within the kingdom, and he was eager to add even more achievements to his war record. He had to act quickly. Even though it was the dead of winter, he would order his army to march south, through the deep snow and frigid cold, onto the shining city of Säravast.
The snort of a horse broke the early morning silence, sending the timid field mice back down into their burrows. Pushing through snow that nearly came up to its belly, the horse was urged on by the man riding atop it. No trail ran through this section of forest, they were blazing their own path, an urgent report in hand. The man had been traveling for a full day, with no rest, for either him or his steed. The deep snow had impeded his travels, but not nearly as much as the monsters.
Monsters had never been a problem before, they were exceedingly rare to see roaming around the surface. The only places they were known to inhabit, other than the subterranean dungeons, were remote areas, and only when the dungeons in those areas overflowed. Even then, parties of adventurers would be dispatched to those forlorn reaches of the world in order to cull any of the savage beasts or undead monstrosities making the surface their home.
Enraged mutated bears, wolves the size of horses, rabbits with fangs the size of a man's pointer finger; it seemed as if the entirety of the fauna found in the Cassian Forest had completed some macabre metamorphosis. Scores of adventurers had been assigned the vital mission of uncovering the source of the surging beasts, but so far, none had been successful. More had been swallowed whole by the dark forest than had returned from it, and those that had, told tales of a barren landscape that not even the winter snow dare touch. That was the reason the man on the horse had decided to swing several miles east of that dark, foreboding forest, adding a considerable amount of time to his journey, but most likely extending his life as well.
Several hours passed by uneventfully, the quiet winter day slowly melded into a silent winter night. The man huddled close to his saddled, the winter breeze biting and clawing at his shivering body. A far-off symphony of howls cut through the winter air, causing his horse to pause its methodical steps. The man too perked up his ears, but after several minutes of silence, urged his mount back into motion. He figured the calls were miles away, signifying some other unlucky soul's demise, and had no bearing on his journey forward.
With the gorgeous full moon, and the help of the white winter snow, he was able to see in front of him as if it was day. A light snowfall began to descend from the heavens, letting him know that winter would not let the world out of its frigid clutches just yet. The tall trees began to thin and shorten, marking the boundary between the untamed forest and the place humans called home. At least they used to.
As he crested a small hill, his eyes cast down onto an expanse of flat, frozen fields hidden underneath an oppressive blanket of snow. Dotted around the hidden fields were farmhouses, there windows as dark and silent as the winter night itself. In the bright winter night, the man could see that no smoke was rising from the chimneys of any of the houses in view, the buildings had been long abandoned, chased from their homes by the flames of war.
He kicked at his horse's sides, urging him onward, slowly making his way down the soft incline of the hill. His destination could now be seen in the distance, massive walls that towered over the landscape like a slumbering giant, topped with fires that radiated harsh, orange light that clashed with the soft light of the moon. He could see several of the smaller flames atop the wall gliding along the ramparts, reminding him of spectral wisps from the deepest and darkest of dungeons, but knew that they were only the torches of the soldiers patrolling their newly occupied city, Nox.
"Open the gates!" A soldier yelled out, quickly followed by another that repeated the order.
Soon enough, the massive iron gate had opened just enough to allow the man and his horse into the city. As soon as he had crossed the threshold, the gate quickly closed, the ground rumbling slightly as it did so.
"Take me to your captain." The man said, dismounting his horse and pulling out a plain looking medallion.
Gingerly, the soldier took the medallion from the man before holding it up to the torch-light, inspecting it closely.
"Right away." The soldier said, handing the medallion back to the man.
…..
"What news do you bring? Surely they can't be making movements in this weather, the snow nearly tickles my balls when I go to relieve myself." A gaudily dressed man joked as a maid poured crimson wine into two crystal glasses resting on a table. "Whatever it is, it must be dreadfully important for you to make such an arduous journey in this awful weather."
Another man, still radiating the frigid winter chill, eyed the maid suspiciously. Waiting for her to finish and leave the room before speaking. "Something's happened."
Taking a sip from his glass, the flamboyant man leaned forward in his plush, leather chair, "The suspense is killing me, please tell?"
"Säravast, it's burning."
Leaning back in his chair, Marquis Mallow swirled the crimson liquid in his glass and stared at the man sitting across from him, the flippant expression on his face morphed into one of utmost seriousness, "tell me what you mean. Leave nothing out."
The Marquis listened intently as the spy retold what had unfolded within the city. He told him of the riots that spread across the shining city like the plague, tarnishing the once peaceful streets with violence and strife. How an unknown creature wrought havoc, completely destroying a large portion of the noble district, and setting fire to the rest before it could be felled. How the city's defenders were forced to turn their blades on the very citizens they swore to protect in order to quell the violent disturbances spreading throughout the city.
As the man sitting across from him finished his report, Marquis Mallow struggled to keep his excitement from showing on his face. With a heavy thud, Marquis Mallow plopped a large leather sack onto the table between them, "Here, your reward. Now leave me."
With a quiet nod, the man deftly stowed the leather sack away, close to his chest, before leaving Marquis Mallow behind with quiet, but heavier steps. Once he had left, Marquis Mallow bolted from his plush leather chair and alighted with eager steps to a large map stretching across the far wall. Drawn on the taut, coarse leather was a rough outline of the entirety of the Kingdom of Morgania, and the southernmost areas of Amine. Pins representing the opposing kingdom's forces were stuck into the fleshy map, showing the stagnant state of the war during the harsh winter months.
He ran his well-manicured fingers over the area representing Säravast, the imperfections in the leather map grating against his soft skin. He moved his hand up to the fortified city of Nox, where he and the army under his command were currently located. The memories of the chaotic past few weeks surged within his mind, causing a vicious grin to spread across his sharp face.
Him, as well as his other hawkish peers had been growing restless over the long reign of peace. His domain had remained the same size since his grandfather's grandfather was gifted the land by the then monarch. He couldn't recall exactly what his ancestor had done to receive the domain, nor did he care to investigate; the point was, that for generations, the lands under his family's control had remained unchanged. Without the ability to expand, the resources that were within his reach had steadily dwindled over the years, while simultaneously becoming more difficult to extract. He knew that maybe within his children's lifetimes, that his domain would become nothing but an empty husk, stripped of anything of value.
That was why, when King Alexander inherited the crown, he and the others urged the young king to take action against those responsible for his father's death. Of course, there were those that argued against engaging in hostilities without first conducting a thorough investigation into the matter, but, with the help of Duke Hutchens, those voices were swiftly silenced. With the kingdom on the path to war, he and the others now had their chance to expand their own power and influence. With a healthy 'donation' of gold and other precious items to Duke Hutchens, he was granted the privilege of commanding the first troops to cross the border.
In no time at all, Amine's army was prepared to lay siege to the fortress city of Nox. Monstrous structures designed to breach Nox's mighty walls were built and painstakingly hauled by dozens of teams of oxen. Supply lines hundreds of miles long were established, granting safe passage to the hundreds of tons of food required to feed the thirty-thousand strong fighting force marching toward the city. The plan was to surround the city, bombard them from afar with the siege machines and magic spells, all the while sending small groups of saboteurs into the city, burning their stocks of food.
It was a simple, but solid plan. The heavy winter snow would hinder any reinforcements from assaulting them as they laid siege to the city, making the attack a lengthy, but leisurely affair. But, as their army approached the city, they found that their previous plan was completely useless. The city's heavy iron gates were left in a state of disrepair, the mechanisms that closed them were frozen with rust. The guards manning the walls tried desperately to close the gates, but nothing could free the seized gears. With nothing barring their entry, Amine's army waltzed into the fortified city with hardly any resistance, taking nearly three-thousand prisoners of war. Several thousand more soldiers and civilians had managed to escape from the opposite gate, but only had to time to take what they could carry, leaving all of the stored supplies safely within the city.
This unexpected, but welcome, turn of events had elevated Marquis Mallow's status within the kingdom, and he was eager to add even more achievements to his war record. He had to act quickly. Even though it was the dead of winter, he would order his army to march south, through the deep snow and frigid cold, onto the shining city of Säravast.
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