Upheaval

[Porko 397]

 

 

 

“John, you’re a syphilitic prick and I’m going to off you like one.”

 

Harsh words escaped Emery’s lips, axe brandished in an act of brazen defiance. His digits curled tightly around his weapon’s hilt, pale orbs narrowed at the tight formation of the opposing guard. Behind the shield wall sat the aforementioned John, Holy Emperor of Oren, placid as tensions ran hot. Despite the firm statements, bold actions of the savoyard knight, his form trembled. Emery’s grip was constantly reaffirmed, adjusted as the two sides bickered. John stared down the rebellious assemblance, the stormy gaze of Elias de Savoie meeting the Emperor’s. As Emery’s head turned to view his comrades, he found Ser Aymer and the men of Riveryn, ragtag but steadfast beside their liege. Only fourty years were shared between the former squire of Denis de Bar and the Grand Prince of Savoy, but the time had hardened them, formed them into true men. Yet against the highest figure of the Empire, Emery couldn’t help himself from feeling the fear of youth, of facing responsibility. But choice was never a factor.

 

As his liege surged forth, Emery’s axe was brought skywards, slicing down to crash against the shields of the Felsen guard. Splinters flew into the sky, the dull rasping of steel on steel reverberating from the source of the conflict. The savoyards threw themselves against the shield wall, Emperor’s men falling back at the sheer bravery of the charge. As the battle progressed, however, the victors made themselves clear. Outnumbering and out-equipping the opposition, the Felsen guard slew unprepared savoyard after unprepared savoyard, the initial advantage unapparent due to the result. Soon Emery lay battered, broken on the rich carpets of the Imperial palace, a proud horenite guard hovering above his bruised form. The guard grasped the beaten youth’s arms, bringing them backwards to place cold shackles around his wrists. Emery’s breaths were ragged, the knight offering no resistance as he was restrained, and raised to his feet.

 

A quick glance around the hall reaffirmed the situation- slaughter. The bodies of fallen savoyards littered the floor, Aymer and Elias apprehended in a similar manner. His capturer stood idle, however, with an expression of slight confusion. “What’s to be done with this one?” the guard inquired, glancing towards the Emperor. John paced about the blood-stained hall, pivoting to avoid the growing pools of crimson before craning his head to respond.

 

“Take his head- his name’s of no high regard.”

 

A nod was offered in return to the grim answer, a firm hand planted on Emery’s back to make him bend. The savoyard knight landed on his knees, teeth gritted as he lowered his head. The guard Mylas gripped his sword with an eager look, approaching the youth with eyes set upon his exposed neck. Glancing through the ambling guards and growing crowd of shocked onlookers, the Grand Prince found the subdued Emery. The pair shared a strange stare, Emery’s expression one of slight fear in contrast to the stoic Elias. “Hold strong, Emery.” The Ashford offered a firm uttering through his bloodied face, Mylas’ blade now angled to strike. With his execution imminent, worries and thoughts whirred about the young knight’s mind. Yet he found strength in this chaos. With an oddly cheery grin flashed towards Elias, Emery spent his last moment. Then the sword came down.

 

[_Stigwig 1510]

Denis frowns as he hears the news, adjourning to his chambers. The boy had been his squire, and he had knighted him, and a rage was upon the Grandmaster.

 

"Blood for Ashford."

[CheekyNolan 5420]

"Blood for Ashford." Announces a Savoyard Knight.

[Swgrclan 2682]

"Blood for Ashford."

[Kaldwin_ 241]

Edwin swiped the meal he had been eating off the table. He took the knife he had been using and slammed it into the table. He looked up from the mess and said one single phrase.

 

"Blood for Ashford..."

[Proddy 2415]

Richard Ambrose Ashford de Bar frowns from the Seven Skies, a silver goblet of wine pinched between his fingers.

 

Glare darkening, he can only manage a few words...

 

"Blood for Ashford."

[Salvo 1852]

"Blood for Ashford."

[thesmellypocket 1859]

Francois d'Ibelin, though no longer a vassal of Drusco, is filled with zealous anger. "Blood for Ashford!" He agrees fervently.

[lawnmowerman 3040]

An Ulmsbottom youth meanders about Felsen, gaze slothfully glancing around. His eyes dart at the prefect's head plopped on a pike, head shaking stiffly. He mumbled bitterly.

 

"The fire rises."

 

 

[dandan1350 479]

Lucius let a sigh escape him as he pushed himself from his desk and made way through the heavy oak doors, pushing them aside to step out onto the balcony that overlooked the palace and its outlying grounds. His youthful and joyful gaze lost to the world he had experienced, only two years in and he had already been brought to such a low-state. A sigh escaping him as he thought back and longed to return to Ulmsbottom away from his duties and all the bloodshed surrounding him. He shook his head and looked up to Elias' tower. "Blood for Ashford." He murmured quietly, turning from the balcony and descending into his study once more.

[Hammer4_ 166]

A ragtag man from Riveryn brandishes a ferrum sword, impaling the frozen soil.  A sullen expression sits on his visage as he mutters three words.  "Blood for Ashford."

[Kim 1328]

Adelaide casts a gaze on the sleeping countenance of her husband, one now clean of the blood spilt on this day. She purses her lips, before uttering a single phrase,

 

"Blood for Ashford."

[Banard 116]

Bryce attemped to steady himself, undying Wrath urging to tear him apart as a hellish roar cut through the air.

"Blood for Ashford."

[mmat 7460]

The message is delivered to the young Oscar whilst still at sea, a mere day away from the shores to which he headed. An uncharacteristically angry demeanor came over the unshaven seagoer in the form of a clenched fist as he had read the message of Emery's actions and killing, noticable to all those around him. He spoke but a few choice, but customary words that had been ceremonically taught to him, shaking his head nonetheless at the brazen actions of the savoyard knights. Orenians were killing Orenians yet again.

 

"Blood for Ashford.."

[Heff 2460]

Gioseffo Gradic, plump Felsen guardsman, wipes Savoyard blood and the like from his shield. "Blood for Felsen!!"