Reclamation (Part I)

[GloriaPreussens 798]

“Aeldin. Our home, usurped. It is ours by blood, by right of conquest. If we must burn ever home, kill ever Horos, salt every field, we shall do so.”

-John Godfrey, the Bastard King of Vandoria to John Owyn, Prince of Alstion upon landing on the shores of Aeldin.

 

 

 

Black sails, lined with gold. A fleet of apocalyptic proportions broke the black waves as they made speed for the shore. Townsfolk fled in fear, the city guard manned the walls and the bells rang to sound the alarm, but the Emperor did not fear. He sat in his palace, simply smiling, “They will not make it past the fleet” he would say, commanding yet more decadent luxuries to come to his plate. His courtiers lacked spine and and celebrated yet another debacle of the mad Emperor of Aeldin, his fat spilling over his belt, his royal throne creaking beneath his weight.

 

Black sails broke past the defending fleet, foreign warriors screaming in Flexio, butchering the defenders. Black ships sailed on, to the port, to the brigades and shield walls of the city guard and the hastily assembled militia. Still the Emperor cared not, stating “They will not make it past the harbor district!” and ordering the festivities to reach new heights of debauchery and ecstasy, Cathant dancers and eunuchs filled the halls, offering narcotics and pouring exotic drinks for the honored guests of the emperor.

 

Soldiers clad in black, bearing striped purple and onyx flags planted them around the piles of the defenders, setting fire the piles of corpses, chanting at their victory. Block by block, heavily armored shield walls crushed the ad hoc defenders. Gates slammed shut, to be blown apart by sappers, walls scaled, or gates smashed by rams. The Emperor frowned a moment, word reached of the town square breached, but he stated with a smile “They will not make it past the square!” and more wine was brought, wine slopped over his chins to pool on his belly as he drank his worries away, mummers and fools danced with courtesans as courtiers and nobles drank themselves silly and smoked narcotics from Cathant, orgies common and debaucherous acts of sin overtook the once proud and strong Imperial palace.

The sound of thousands of swords, axes, maces and hammers banging on shields, chanting foreign voices called for blood, the defenders fled in mass, those brave enough to stand met their fate, drowning in a rover of their own blood, black clad soldiers smashing apart the ill prepared soldiers. The town square burned, set alight by the defenders, but it would not stop the invaders, who marched with a blood lust in their eyes, and a hate in their hearts. They marched up the high hill, past the town to the palace where sounds of lust and sin could be heard. The fat emperor quaked in fear “They shan't make it into the palace!” he cried, taking narcotics and drinking pitchers of fine, stuffing his face and sweating in fear.

 

Black armored bodies pushed into the palace, screaming as they cut down the ornate and ill-trained guards, the second and third sons of noblemen, never having fought a real battle. Their colors and plumed helms awash with the lifeblood of their comrades, the foreign soldiers stomping over the bodies, tearing down banners and chanting. The Emperor quaked in his elegant chair, covered in his own piss, tears streaming down his face. Two men decorated in fine armor retched as they moved into the grand hall, their soldier's parting before them. One bore a circlet of cold iron, the other a crown of fine gold. The ‘nobles’ of the court smiled with glazed eyes, the strumpets and whores long since fled, they gave pleasured gasps as blades plunged into them. The elder of the two leader folded his arms across his breastplate, shaking his head in disgust. The fat man, crying would plead “W-why? Who are you!?” he would shout. The younger would draw his blade, marching up the steps to the throne “I am John Owyn, son of John Sigismund, Son of John Frederick, who was the son of Charles Horen, and this is not your throne.”

He would plunge his blade into the fat Emperor who let loose a screech, a hideous noise. The young prince would shove the corpse off, sitting on the throne, a dark look in his eyes, the elder stepping to him “My nephew,” stated John Godfrey “What next?” he smiled lightly, the soldiers assembled before them ready to move at a word, the young man looked to the elder man, John Godfrey, the Bastard King of Vandoria, then to his retinue “Next, we take back our home.”

[HurferDurfer1 2978]

"Wot." Says a Wick

[sneLf 314]

"When did this happen?"  *yawned lucus

[Supremacy 3361]

Meanwhile, The Watchman glances out across the realm hesitantly. His idle gaze pondering how John Godfrey made his way to an inaccessible land. Perhaps John Godfrey had singlehandedly learnt how to rip inter-dimensional portals to traverse the World-Coin... That'd be horrendous power-gaming, he muses... Before dismissing the thought. This must be a fictional account, he finally concludes.

[the mystery man 16]

1 minute ago, Supremacy said:

Meanwhile, The Watchman glances out across the realm hesitantly. His idle gaze pondering how John Godfrey made his way to an inaccessible land. Perhaps John Godfrey had singlehandedly learnt how to rip inter-dimensional portals to traverse the World-Coin... That'd be horrendous power-gaming, he muses... Before dismissing the thought. This must be a fictional account, he finally concludes.

The peasant is amused that the propoganda master has now slain this tale.

[Esterlen 4499]

"I don't think that's true," offers Benda Chivay, Governor of the province of Agathor in Aeldin, "In fact, we haven't seen a person from Vailor here in Aeldin for something like forty years!" 

[Zebanamana 410]

Alpaase Vivyaen pulls his mustache surveying the great fertile fields of Aeldin. A steeple was being raised on a small church that crowned a small hillock above a serf's village. Construction had been halted for two weeks.

 

"Provisioners are late again," Alpaase observed the dwindling pile of lumber. "In fact, send a strongly worded letter to the merchant company, this is the fifth time in as many months."

 

"Yes, sir." A squire affirmed.

 

"You'd think we were at war with a foreign invader considering these delays," the memory caused Alpaase to rub the old wound in his shoulder, trophies of a war long passed.

 

The squire smiled at that, "Could you imagine in Vailorians invaded!"

 

Vivyaen scoffed at this, "Imagination indeed! With the lack of contact to Vailor you would think we were in different worlds from them!" The elder man shook his head and urged his horse forward, "Go along boy, let the company know we have churches to build, no more thoughts of fantasy invasions upon our lands."

[GloriaPreussens 798]

4 hours ago, Esterlen said:

"I don't think that's true," offers Benda Chivay, Governor of the province of Agathor in Aeldin, "In fact, we haven't seen a person from Vailor here in Aeldin for something like forty years!" 

"Let the tall tale be told" says a man in Benda's court "It's amusing."

[HappyShackles 886]

Daniel III, on his pilgrimage in Aeldin, has already conquered the Empire and killed Horos, and thus John could not have done any of this.