The Will of the West

[cruzazul 2815]

 

The west lay in disarray.

 

 

Across the freezing alpine forest from the maw of the Abyss to the the gates of Bastion itself, corpses lay strewn in the snow, too dangerous to be collected and given proper burial. What men remained in the fortress city were grim, hunkered down by their fires as they savoured what rations remained and sharpened their blades, preparing for their next skirmish with the undead scourge which would surely strain their endurance and will to the limit once again. After all, how many more lives could they afford to lose?

 

The folk of the West were hardy and of all the now disparate groups of humankind scattered across Axios, arguably the most loyal to the protection of their race. The Vanders refused to squabble with the petty warlords who fought amongst themselves, refused to compromise or capitulate to nonhumans, and above all, held no duty higher than to be the shield that guards the realms of men from the abomination that was Mordring.

 

In the twilight hours of the fifth Empire, Emperor Philip Frederick had released these men from their oath. Nonhuman hordes and rebels had reached the gates of Johannesburg, and the Imperial Monarch knew his days were done. Yet, someone had to live on. And in that final moment, he saw with clear foresight: When Orenia falls, our race will be shattered. For decades thereafter we will fight among ourselves, weak and divided, while nonhumans take advantage of our rivalries. We must survive these dark times, and put down petty differences for the sake of humanity

 

And so the men of Bastion left the battlefield and returned to the west, fortifying their fortress home and preparing to fight the only threat that mattered to them, the undead scourge at the end of the world.

 

Be the shield that protects us from evil. Keep the abominations at bay while the rest of humanity puts swords to each other’s throats. Maintain former  values, former order, former discipline, for the blood of the dragon flows through your kings. And finally, when the time comes, be prepared to join with us as one in a single front to push back the darkness.

 

And so the Westerlands thrived, under the firm rule of King Leopold, and King Caius thereafter. Yet, they were only one kingdom and were slowly grinded down. Every man lost to the screeching dead, every hamlet burned and skirmish lost. The decline was expedited with the subsequent deaths of both King Leopold and King Caius. The incumbent King Rakim of House Yar ruled for a short while before granting the Kingdom back to its rightful claimants. What men remained in the desolate capital were desperate, but they fought on.

 

And now, from the maw of the Abyss to the the gates of Bastion itself, corpses lay strewn in the snow.

 

 

A beleagured Vander soldier sitting atop the wall keeping his half-lidded eyes glued to the snowy fields below squinted, then rubbed his eyes. He did a double-take, then suddenly jolted awake. Scrambling, he grasped the rope of the alarm bell and rang it firmly.

 

RING RING RING “TO ARMS! WE HAVE A FORCE APPROACHING OUR GATES!”

 

Suddenly, the city bustled to life. Soldiers rushed out the barracks, their weapons at the ready. Those who remained in-charge climbed onto the gate to get a better view at who or what was coming.

 

“Wait…”

 

The commander raised his arm, shouting loud. “LOWER YOUR ARMS! OPEN THE GATE!”

 

In a thunder of hooves, the force nearing the Bastion gate made itself clear, and at its head was a steel-clad man holding high a banner of purple and black.

 

They rode in, and the man at the head slid his helmet off and tucked it under his arm. Remaining atop his horse, attended by fresh, well-armed cavalry, pikemen and infantry in formation behind him, baring all the banners and sigils of the members of the Canonist league. His grey eyes scanned stoically over the beleaguered Westerlanders who stood before him, at the entrance to Bastion, then he spoke.

 

“I am John Godwin, of the House Horen. The West has stood alone for too long. I am here to claim this city and join in your fight, and unite mankind once more against the undead menace and all others that would pose a threat to the prosperity of our people.”

 

A long, shocked silence ensued.

 

Then, a cheer erupted within the city. Their darkest hour was over. With the scourge of Mordring beaten back, mankind would be strong once more. For as simple a mantra, it never held more true. Divided, the sons and daughters of Horen fall, either to each other or to the dark forces of the world. United, none can stand against them, and their fate returns into their own hands.

 

[Chimp 528]

 

[Vetren54 368]

"God save humanity." murmered Tiberius as he marched to Bastion to fight the undead.

[osumanduas 1442]

 

"God save the Emperor"

[GloriaPreussens 798]

A man, aged now, well past his youth watched with grey eyes from the nearby alleyway, muttering a quiet, "Imperator et Imperium," before slinking back into the shadows, a few scraps of muddied purple and black cloth visible beneath his brown muddled cloak.

[seannie 7443]

"The Undead is what they're going to try and use to claim their Empire back this time around? Not really creative I must say." remarks a Adelwen the Historian.

[Slothtastic 761]

Xiahou hears of new rule. 

"A new ruler? Xiahou must meet! Perhaps become friend like Caius!" He said. 

[The Lion 736]

((lowkey how OP made me feel))

Once again, a Horen reigns over our Mortal Sky. Yet, is this one true, is this one virtuous? Perhaps he's one of the off-shoots, the inbred cousins of Godfrey. Foul creatures that only worry about their own madness. None of Godfrey's stature until that of John III, an inspiring leader, direct kin of the cowardly John Horen. I ask, "Do we need an Emperor to maintain the Throne?" I think not.

Let Kings remain Kings. Make Undead dead again. Do not allow their evils to re-manifest in you when the war is over.

[senor_tortuga 692]

Tajo would do a little jig at this statement 

[Mj. 697]

Wem grin and thumb up "Well, we need someone to kill"

[Vetren54 368]

Patriotic music fills the streets of Bastion, encouraging young men to take up the fight against the undead. 

 

 

[Moby_Derp 163]

Gukdan laughs, having just defeated many undead in the Westerlands.

"Guez lat kan unlee truzt Urukz tu do zuch ah job."

[Alatus 8]

"Wonder how long it'll be this time before they start breeding siblings and degenerating the royal line again," Diogenes mumbled under his breath, idly whittling his stick and only half paying attention.

[Balthasar 2497]

The now older Fritlev ponders over if he should return to Bastion to fight a more immediate and undead threat

[Heero 4092]

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.