Lands of Darkness

[vovan]

Originally posted by TheGuitarist
...

Now look what you've done! Tom's fainted.

* Vovansim runs off for a glass of cold water

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Is Tom okay ? has any body heard from him since he fainted ?

[TheGuitarist]

Groggle...

[Easthaven I]

Lands of Darkness

Base of Operations…Secured.
April 10th 1468AD
Fort Trilo

“Men. We have succeeded where even I deemed it most difficult and costly. Yet, you performed magnificently and so costly it wasn’t.” Fornalin paced around the room, his commanders situated about the den. Belisarius and Hasduman leaned by the fireplace, Cornelius sat at the table of maps and the others were situated likewise listening to Fornalin speak.

“We have established our base of operations, and now is time to consolidate our new gains and begin to establish communication throughout all of West Persia. And it is time for recruitment.” He stopped by the window and looked out, hands behind his back. “Fort Trilo will be our center, it will be our headquarters. And the city of Tarsus shall be our second, in case the fall of this Fort is imminent. For this whole year, we will harvest the wheat, recruit troops, train, drill and march until our soldiers sweat blood. Then in winter we shall rest. The Russians will not attack this season I am sure. But they will come next spring, and we will wait for them past the Ergili Mountains. Where we shall engage them and…defeat them. We must defeat and destroy that army.” He turned from the window and to his men. “We must show we are capable. If we achieve a decisive victory then it will aid our efforts in wooing nobles in all of Persia as well as Carthage, Gaul, and the city-state of Thebes. And the morale of our troops will increase tenfold.”

“When shall we take Persepolis?” asked Belisarius.

“After we defeat the Russians in this decisive battle, we will follow up and march on Persepolis. Is that right, Overvinna?” Answered Lord Cornelius.

“Yes.” Fornalin answered.

“And what shall we do with the Russian prisoners? There are 1200 of them, it is too dangerous holding them when they outnumber our current army 3 to 1.” Hasduman said.

“Yes…we must get rid of this burden. Execute the officers and every fifth man. Send half to the prison of Tarsus and give the other half as slaves throughout the countryside. Keep Commander Kukov as a prisoner here. We might need information from him later.” Fornalin answered.

The others nodded in agreement.

“Also, begin sending out recruiters to recruit all able men from 16 years of age and beyond. Volunteers for now. Also order all blacksmiths and carpenters to begin constructing weapons and armor if they have not already done so. Cornelius, how many horses do we have from the Russians?” He asked. He walked towards the main table and sat at the head of it.

“We have acquired 500 horses in the stables. We also have equipment for up to 3,000 men. But that is just in Fort Trilo. In Aleppo, we’ve captured equipment for up to 1,700 men. Pasargardae had equipment for up to 2,500 men and Tarsus had equipment for 800.” Cornelius shuffled through more papers. “And yes…Fort Medes had enough for 2,000. Most of the equipment is light, a third of it for heavy infantry. Lots of missile weapons as well. In total, from the Russians we have 2,000 horses and enough equipment for 10,000 men. But of course these are scattered throughout five different places, I recommend sending men to bring these supplies here.”

Fornalin listened intently to what materials he had to work with.

“Good. Get that done, Cornelius. Also, send out scouts to report on any activities throughout Persia. And send embassies to Rome, Carthage, Greece, and Gaul to discuss their positions in this war. And send envoys to every noble in Persia so that we may see where their loyalties lie. Tell them the Immortals have returned.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

He sat thinking on any gaps he might have left open. Mistakes in an already difficult war were not acceptable.

“I can not emphasize enough on how quickly we need to raise our army. For we need to train them once we have them. Both as horsemen and as swordsmen. And they need to be good. The Russians will most likely outnumber us, so we must outclass them in both training and spirit to overcome our weakness in numbers.” He said urgently, being sure his generals knew the importance.

They nodded.

“And Phyllicus.” He said to the general sitting to his right. “You are a fantastic diplomat, gifted with a talent of persuasion. Go to Thebes. Befriend them, and when the time comes make certain they are with us.”

“Yes my lord. As you wish.” Phyllicus responded.

Just then Philip entered the room.

“Lord Fornalin. Your generals have returned from their scouting. Marion, Otto, Croesus, and Datis. They’ve just arrived…” Just as he said that the four Immortal generals entered the room.

Fornalin was pleased. Now only one of his fourteen Elite Immortals was not present. Having his best Generals present gave him confidence.


---------------
After he debriefed the newly arrived, he dismissed them to their recruiting and training. Only Cornelius remained in the room with him.

“Lord Cornelius, any word from my wife and child?” He asked.

“I’m afraid not. The party I sent to retrieve them did not return, nor did they send any word of their situation.” He reluctantly said. Cornelius was afraid that his friend’s family might hamper his decision-making. He prayed Fornalin’s family was safe, for if they weren’t he did not know how Fornalin would react.

Fornalin sighed and a foreboding overtook his heart.

“Cornelius, I’m putting you in command until I return…” Cornelius sighed in expectation, he knew his friend’s love for his son and that beautiful woman was too much to keep him from them. “…I am going to my home and personally retrieving my wife and son. They should have been here by now.”

“Yes, Fornalin. But are you sure that is wise? Now, is when your army needs you…”

“They need me when we are at battle. They can make do with my absence for now. I will return in plenty of time to partake in the training. Do not argue with me, Cornelius. Let me do what I must do.”

Cornelius nodded and stepped aside as Fornalin walked out. He stood there in silence for a moment. Then he walked to the window. He searched and finally found Fornalin, mounted on his stallion. He saw the gates open…as the heir to the throne of Persia rode through and away…

“May your family be safe, my friend…” He whispered…

[Easthaven I]

Lands of Darkness

Omen of Despair
April 20th 1468AD
The forests of Rock Mountain

Fornalin galloped through the forest, his steed obediently marching on, knowing instinctively where it was and where it was going.

Fornalin thought about his family the whole way. His thoughts and feelings were unrestrained, open to panic and anxiety. He left the responsibilities of Persia with Lord Cornelius, his sworn brother, therefore he felt he could let loose his thoughts knowing the war was in good hands.

He wondered and thought up many scenarios explaining why his family wasn’t retrieved and why the party sent had sent back no word. He tried desperately to avoid the most worst-case scenarios, but it was in his nature to accept all possibilities.


-------------------------
What he did not know was that one of his possible explanations was true. The party sent to retrieve his family accidentally ran into a company of Russian soldiers. They were ambushed and killed, thus explaining their disappearance. His wife never saw them nor knew of their existence, for they were ambushed on the outskirts of the forest in mid-March. Four of those men were captured. Three of them died from torture, carrying their secret to their grave. But one survived the tortures. The one finally divulged the information so desperately wanted. On April 15th, the Russians knew everything. The one told them about the Immortals and its leader, the infamous General Fornalin…and his family.
--------------------------

===========================


April 21st 1468AD 9:00 a.m.

Fornalin galloped on. He recognized his surroundings with utmost detail, and knew that he was close to his home…to his family.

Then, he heard the most feared sound he could imagine. A sound that would haunt his dreams for years to come. A sound that nearly destroyed his spirits and made him wont death.

He heard the scream of a woman.

His darkest fear took form in his mind, and engulfed his soul.

With the outburst of intense fury coated in desperation, he kicked his horse furiously and cried for it to make haste. His white steed, sensing his master’s discomfort and worry, heeded the order and sped forward with all its might. It jumped over knolls, rocks, and tree roots. Dodging in and out of trees, with the swiftness of a winter breeze. Fornalin ducked branches with the keenest reflexes and he paid no heed to the scratches and cuts the treacherous wilderness imposed on him.

Another scream pierced the air; another screamed pierced his heart.

“Hurry, Cyrus”, His eyes were lidless, “make haste! My family needs me!”

Then, he saw his house through the trees as he neared the clearing. Outside there were horses grazing. And five men stood in the garden.

Fornalin upon his steed, erupted from the forests with the speed of light. He galloped straight for the five men. One finally looked up, startled at the sudden white streak heading towards him.

Fornalin pulled a dagger from his cloak and threw it, striking the man through the throat. Immediately he pulled out a throwing ax from the saddle and launched it at another. The ax flipped wildly through the air until finally stopped by a man’s chest as it stuck to it like a dart to a dartboard. The white stallion, Cyrus, jumped the picket fence and landed on a third Russian soldier. Trampling him beneath its hooves, neighing wildly with as much fury as its master. Fornalin unsheathed his sword, pivoted his horses and struck at another surprised trespasser. Slashing the man with one strike, he dismounted and charged at the last man, yelling like a madman. The frightened Russian tried to run but Fornalin was too quick. He slashed the man’s back, and began chopping him to pieces as he countlessly struck at the downed man.

“YOU COME TO MY HOME! YOU ENDANGER MY WIFE…MY SON!!!” He yelled in fury.

He charged into the home after hearing another scream and the sounds of wrecking furniture.

Everything was in shambles, as if a great struggle had taken place. Fornalin saw one dead Russian on the floor in the hall as he rushed into room after room. Witnessing more destroyed furniture.

Finally, he burst into his and his wife’s bedroom. His wife was on the bed, she held a sword above her holding a Russian man’s sword at bay. The man turned to Fornalin, distracted. Natalya kicked the man in the groin, making him recoil. Natalya, with much strain and with a moan, swung her sword and beheaded the Russian man, whom had his pants half down.

He fell lifelessly onto the floor, accompanied by five other dead Russians.

Natalya dropped her bloodstained sword and fell back onto the bed; her white dress was soaked in blood in the center of her upper body.

He began towards her, but another Russian appeared behind him from the doorway. He ducked the Russian’s initial swing and Fornalin chopped the Russian’s right leg off. And with another strike he thrusted his sword into the downed man’s chest.

He quickly turned and ran to his wife. He laid her properly on the bed and leaned over her. She shivered and looked at Fornalin with much love. Tears began forming in his eyes as he caressed her. He desperately applied pressure to her wound and caressed her face, removing her hair from her chin and lips.

Natalya shivered again, fighting against death…forcing death away.

“I’m so sorry, Natalya…I’m so…” Fornalin began to weep.

Natalya lifted her hand to his cheek.

“It isn’t your fault, Fornalin. More Russians are on the way, my love. Your son still needs you, and Persia still needs you. Go save them both.” She said, a tear rolled down the side of her temple and got lost in her silky dark brown hair.

“I will not leave you here…”

“Please, we will meet again. I promise, for we were meant for each other…someday we will be back together. But for now you are of much importance to many souls. Save our son, Fornalin. Please save our son, and together save Persia. Leave me here to die in my home…” again she shivered.

“How could such a hopeful world…destroy such beauty…destroy its only light…” he cried, weeping uncontrollably.

“It is not for us to judge who lives and who dies and for what. It happens…live with the duty of doing good…and doing good means saving lives when you can and preventing evil from ruling over the innocent. I love you, Fornalin. Now please save our son…” she cried.

He held her hand against his cheek.

“I will my…

Her eyes rolled back as her lids closed. So quietly and innocently…as if an angel was sleeping.

He buried his head in her neck as he cried profusely for a moment, her skin was so soft and warm…so uncorrupted. Then realizing he still had a son, he leapt from the bed and ran out of the room, grabbing his sword on the way.

He ran to the backyard. He looked about the field of the high grass but could not see anything. He ran through it searching.

“Elias!!!…Elias!!!”

Then he saw a depression in the high grass and he ran to it.

He halted immediately as he saw a black feathered arrow protruding upward. He stepped closer. He saw his son face down in the ground…a black feathered arrow protruding from his back.

His sword fell from his hands and he dropped to his knees in an abyss of despair. Total blackness filled his heart. He gathered his dead son in his arms and rocked back and forth as he wept rivers. The innocent boy held a blank expression as he lay in his father’s arms. Young Elias was no more.

“I’m sorry, my son…I should have never left…why…”He cried.

His soul became as dark as coal. His only light in his world of darkness was completely extinguished. Nothing to live for.

Then from his house he heard disturbance. He turned and saw a dozen Russians staring at him from his home.

Nothing to live for…but revenge.

He kissed his son on the forehead and laid him gently down on his side.

“I will avenge you and your mother, my son. Forgive me. And may I pay for this tragedy. I am sorry, Elias.” He then stood and sheathed his sword. He then turned and ran, tears still falling from his face.

The Russians came after him. But soon lost him in the woods…

[Easthaven I]

Feedback wanted, please. Tell me what you like, dislike. What you hope to see, what you hope not to see, etc. etc.

Any kind of criticism or compliments appreciated.

I think I might be steering off from the original writing style from the beginning, and I'm kind of steering away from the characters Philip and Pavil. But i'm not so sure.

Any kind of feedback totally welcomed. Even obsene smilies! All is welcomed.

Thank you.

[Easthaven I]

Lol, I just saw the whips thing...hehe, funny.

Bring out the whips!!! whoopish!

[ChrisiusMaximus]

East you probably have steered away from your intended story line but I think that is only natural in the evolution of any story.

There is truly nothing I can find fault with in this piece it is sheer brilliance. Of cause me being an old sentimental fool I was upset that the kid and the wife got killed but you wrote it beautifully and after all this story is definitely not a comedy.

No its a classic of immense proportions

Please keep it coming I love it and I feel inspired by it.

[Easthaven I]

yeeeah baby.

Very good feedback. Thanks, man.

[TheGuitarist]

I'm so glad you're continuing this piece.

This is truly an epic. Your writing style is so fluid that you can switch from character to character and from setting to setting without problem.

You have a keen grasp of what makes a good plot. Convincing dialogue and realistic storytelling keep the reader riveted. The combat is above average and the entire premise of the story draws me in completely.

Keep it up, I'm anxious to see the glorious conclusion.

[vovan]

Well, after such exhaustive feedback, I have only to say that it is a great piece. Looking forward to more...

[Easthaven I]

whoohoo. I did not expect such positive feedback. Thank you all very much, greatly appreciated.

Epic..heh...very cool.

I have a few surprises in store...mwahahahaha. If your observant, you'll see it.

Anyways, keep in tuned....

[ChrisiusMaximus]

And like just when can we expect to see these surprises you promised us whoopish....

[ChrisiusMaximus]

I can see its going to take more than just one crack of the whip to get you writing my friend.

Whoopish, whoopish, whoopish, there now is that better. Please give us some more.

[Easthaven I]

Lands of Darkness

OOC: sorry. The whipping knocked me out...
===================

Dark Abyss
March 23rd, 1468AD

The Russian soldiers had left. After chasing and searching for Fornalin for over twenty-four hours in the wood, they had finally given up and left, taking with them any treasures they had plundered from the house of Varha.

Fornalin returned, following the rising smoke. He arrived at the clearing and stood in silence as he watched the smoke rise from the ashes of his once lovely home. Only a wall still stood, however unstable. Not even his work shack existed. His horses were all gone as well.

He finally began to move and started walking towards the ashes. Then, he came upon his dead son…still lying in an endless sleep. He stood above the boy, and silently stared in sorrow. Then a gleam of light caught his eye.

It was the silver ring on the boy’s finger…the ring of the Kings of Persia…the Royal House of Varha.

He knelt and slowly removed it. It gleamed with an undying shine, uncorrupted to its very core. He then slid it onto his forefinger and stood.

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

A few hours past as dusk approached. Fornalin, with a bead of sweat rolling down his brow, stood above the grave. He walked to pick up a black marble stone lying a few feet away. He then carried it back and placed it upon the head of his son’s grave.

He then turned and walked towards the pile of rubble and ash that was once his home. He silently wept as he thought of his wife lying in peace as the infidels set her aflame.

“I am so sorry, my love…”He whispered. Dark shadows hung low under each eye. Those hollow eyes were darker than they have ever been. Before, one could see at least a glint or sparkle in those deep eyes. But now, all light was extinguished and nothing but a deep dark abyss could one witness when you looked into them. His heart and will was no more…