There Can Only Be One

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 15456]

There Can Only Be One

"One who has freed themselves from all restrictions has reached perfection… their potential fulfilled. Perfect strength, perfect power, perfect destiny."

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The 20th Day of the Amber Cold, 1607. Evening.

"Caius is dead. Nut up for the title."

 

Albeit written hastily on cheap parchment with what one would naturally suspect as apathetic, Rakim expected nothing less from the note’s author : Leopold. He was a rather cold in demeanor but calculated individual. Rakim learned at a young age to not take Leopold’s apparent lack of feelings offensively. Given the circumstances of how the King of the Vanders grew up, it was understandable how it was difficult for him to display how he truly felt. Even with the death of his only son, the Qali was not surprised to receive the news of Caius’ death in such a way. Rakim was unsure of how he himself felt about the fallen Horen he once squired and called his little brother. With John Owyn’s blessing, Rakim was more or less raised as a Horen with Leopold as his second father.

 

He was always unsure of why this was allowed, even to this day. His real father, Nafis Yar, brought death and despair to their own homeland in what would become known as the Qalasheen Spring. Retaking the Kingdom of Vandoria from House Winter and the Urguanites, Nafis was ultimately given a pat on the back by the Holy Orenian Empire to the north and told that because he was a low born mercenary by trade, he could not become King. Nafis was named Lord Protector of the Kingdom of Vandoria and the interrex until a proper King could be chosen. It was during this time that he realized he had no control of the Kingdom he once helped build and then retake from the hands of who he considered defilers of the Vander values. The thought of House Kharadeen seeking vengeance remained in the back of his mind and his heir presumptive, once an accomplice he could trust during the Qalasheen Spring, Prince Charles of Furnestock made moves to soon replace the Lord Protector and shape the Vander kingdom as he saw fit. Nafis would have none of that and instead chose a young prince, Leopold of Marna to one day be King of Vandoria. Such a youth could be shaped to one day embrace the Vander values Nafis held dear and become the King the Vander people needed. But like most things in the realm of the descendants, such plans do not go according to plan. Rakim grew up believing becoming a ward of House Horen and given a squire ship was the royal family’s way of saying thank you for his father’s actions. His elder half sister Almas did not seem particularly pleased with the apparent abandonment of her brother’s roots but Rakim learned too that one could not make everyone happy.

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The 20th Day of the Amber Cold, 1607. Night.

 

Leopold and Rakim would meet in the streets of Bastion not too far from the unnaturally late night bustling Mos le’Harmless Cantina. The latter looked coldly towards the metal visage of the former before opening his mouth to speak. An unsightly dark elf was caught at the corner of his vision however and Rakim turned to face the female mali’ker.

 

“Boy.” Leopold began. “I already told it to leave.”

“But I’m light complected!” The female mali’ker protested.

 

“OOGA BOOGA! Nixi I hate your face, bow down to the master race!” Leopold shouted in turn. The dark elf mumbled under her breath but without hesitance made her way out of sight.

 

Rakim looked back to Leopold with his same expression though this time his brow furrowed as he spoke. “So Caius is really dead?”

 

“Yes. I am without a true son now. That leaves you as my heir. Now prove to me you’re worthy of being Lord Vandalore.”

 

The small hairs on the back of Rakim’s neck rose at Leopold’s request and anger took hold of the Qali man. “Gladly. For what you’ve done to me…-for what the Horens have done to me, I outta’ kill ya’.” And with that, Rakim unsheathed his bluesteel blade and held his shield up before him. The blade vibrated with a magical energy and the emerald embedded in the pommel of the blade glowed brilliantly in the dimly lit street.

 

In turn, Leopold raised his clenched fists up much to his opponent’s disappointment.

 

“What of the morningstar?” Rakim asked but kept his fighting stance unsure of Leopold’s intentions.

 

“The morningstar is not yours to take, Rakim. It is a Rothesay relic. And a true Vander does not need a shield to hide behind. Besides, you’ve lost such privilege for disrespecting the family that brought you in as if you were my real kin.”

 

“..I understand.” Rakim immediately dropped his shield on the cobble pavement and sheathed his blade. He brought his left foot back bent his knees slightly before bringing his own fists up. “But House Horen has only did me dirty. Yall killed Joseppi. Ya’ made me abandon everythin’ here to follow ya’ on your lil’ crusade. And ya’ never came.”

 

“You’re over exaggerating like Milton. You’re putting the blame on others for your own choices. I brought Annabel and planned to meet with you in Haria but I did not see you. I left when I got word of the attempted assassination on my son. I assumed you left as well.”

 

“No one told me what was happening! And my choices were made based on my oath to you. But no more. I’m relieved of my oath to you and House Horen. TODAY IS THE DAY I LIVE.”

 

“You’ve been relieved, Rakim. Now, enough of this.” Leopold looked around, taking note of the gathering crowd surrounding them to spectate.

 

“Are you ready?” The Qali looked to Leopold sternly, taking a deep breath.

 

“Yes.” The latter replied in a monotonous voice.

 

Rakim inched forward before swinging his left leg forward to connect his left, plated boot towards the stomach of Leopold. The reigning Vandalore appeared to have taken the hit without much resistance and fell backwards on to the pavement. Like an animal, Rakim pounced upon Leopold and ripped off his metal visage before flinging it off to the side. Immediately after the Qali man began swinging his metal fists at the face of Leopold. After landing a few direct hits, Leopold brought his plated forearms over his face to absorb the barrage of punches from the enraged Rakim.

 

“Fight back..FIGHT BACK.” Rakim snarled as he continued his assault.

 

“I don’t fight kin, never will, Rakim. I may have adopted you but you and I shared the same father. Nafis was like a father to me. That makes you my brother...” Leopold replied in a strained voice.

 

Rakim’s punches slowed down as he stared down at Leopold. He remained on top of the latter as he spoke. “I ain’t a Horen. Never was.”

 

“Yet you made me more proud than Caius ever did. I yield. You win, Rakim Yar. You may finish me off.”

 

Rakim lifted himself off of Leopold. No one in the crowd had interfered in the fight and only looked on, some in shock as the two old friends fought in the street. Leopold laid out on the street appearing ready to meet GOD with his arms stretched out and his eyes closed.

 

“No. For all the sufferin’ ya caused me - I’d rather ya suffer as well. Rot alive.”

 

Rakim walked off towards the palace, leaving behind the murmurs of the townspeople at the conclusion of the “duel”.

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The throne room was empty in Death’s End palace formerly known as Sector V - void of all life unlike the city streets outside. There was a time when the palace was actively manned as well. Its current state was unsettling to Rakim. He approached the dais and reached into his pocket, retrieving a small golden ornate pocket watch. Leopold had given it to him at one of the Imperial balls when Johannesburg still stood as what many considered the center of the Isles of Axios. Rakim closed held on to the pocket watch tightly and closed his eyes as a memory came to mind.

 

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The 15th Day of the Sun’s Smile, 1594. Morning.

 

“We are battle brothers, Rakim. And non humans can eat our *****.” Leopold laid back in his office chair carefully, his wounds still fresh from the recent skirmishes with the Axios Coalition in defense of the Imperium. The Pax Occidenti had been signed allowing white peace between the then small fort of Death’s End and the coalition lead by Courland. Leopold paused briefly before making eye contact with Rakim again. “So...our great Westerlands project begins.”

 

“Let’s make history, Your Majesty…-get used to folks callin’ ya that. All eyes are on us.”

 

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The 21st Day of the Amber Cold, 1607. Early Morning.

 

Rakim opened his eyes and found himself seated on Bastion’s throne. Still, no one discovered the Qali man had made his way into the palace. He looked around towards the flames around the room that remained ever burning.

 

“Today is the day I live.” He said to himself before bowing his head low.

 

HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, Rakim Abdulrashid I of House Yar, by Owyn’s Flame, King of the Westerlands, Duke of Hallowvale, Bombay, High Sovereign of the Westerlands, Seventh Lord Vandalore and Warden of the West

 

 

[lawnmowerman 3040]

 

A farfolk youth ventures to the West, since their monarchy is diverse and not white-only!

 

[Rudi 1747]

Gûndram returns with corpse of Caius in his claws, as his scouts inform him about the occuring of the situation

Giving a simple scoff, the Uruk-ghoul, tosses Caius pale body into a pit

 

"..We have not started this.. Just another treat for the Wargs.."

 

[Charles_Grimlie 1072]

Rosencrantz seems confused, "Vhere are all zhese cards comink from? Ein new child's game or some layer oft meta reality zhat ist trying to break mein immersion?"

[MunaZaldrizoti 8037]

Victoria Maria would give a cheer as her uncle told her of Rakim's new throne, "Mother will be so pleased...I wish I knew where she was..." The girl would frown, shuffling off to her sword training.

[Destroyer_Bravo 1054]

"I thought Sector V included a massive treehouse? Where are the druids?" says a moderately relevant high elf of military inclination

[Eggles the Beagles 252]

"LOS LOS LOS!" Shouts a certain Vander from the Seven Skies, "Ave Hollowvale!" follows shortly after.

[Sultan 3953]

An ancient haggard looking man, walks into the Westerlands courtroom without pants.

[cablam 477]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.