Swan Song

[Treshure 5817]

 

 

Above treacherous heights labored a worn, yet persistent elf. He had left his expansive loft in the cover of night, departing from the lands of Elvenesse to confront an enemy. He had broke through the Dominion’s national border in a little under three hours. The elf bore against his black mare, racing against a rising sun. All that saw him leave wondered why he traveled alone.

 

 

 

---

 

 

The Lord General had not known he was facing against the champion of the Orcs. He did not know it was the son of the fallen Rex, killed at the behest of his brother, that he would clash blades with. Valkorion did not know he would die that day. It was only a challenge answered, another enemy to fall at the hands of the indomitable General.

Finally, the hills waned. Valkorion saw over the expansive hills and was sobered. There, erect in the wind, flew the flag of a massive black scorpion. He had arrived to his destination. It was proper that even in the land of his ancient enemies, the elf would fight in a wooded expanse. And so the last General of the Dominion descended into the lofty woods before Krugmar, sword in hand to confront a virulent foe.

 

 

The orc had wasted little time with Valkorion. Blades screamed against each other, hissing and spitting metal shards as the two clashed in the forest. For all the experience the elf had acquired in his life, the Orc was better. Each violent motion the elf wagered onto the behemoth was returned with persistent ferocity. No measure enacted by Valkorion could stave the towering beast. He found himself increasingly losing ground, pressing against a large and ancient oak.

In his mind, perhaps he could have won. Perhaps a hopeful, heroic moment could break the losing momentum of the fight. This, of course, was shattered when the orc cleaved off Valkorion’s right forearm, and with it his sword. The elf’s vigor melted, and his courage turned to raw horror. It was not at the loss of his arm, but rather the realization he had only a few seconds to live. He turned to mouth at the Orc. It might have been a triumphant last phrase, or a beg of reprieve and mercy. Valkorion never had a chance to speak.

 

The orc turned over the butt of his blade, driving the blunted bottom straight into Valkorion’s chest. The elf drove backwards, smashing into the oak behind him with tremendous force. The bottom side of the claymore caved and broke the General’s armor; it tore through skin like paper and coated the General’s bronze plate in crimson ichor.

The sun had begun to set. The elf had not died yet, left alone to slowly endure his collapsing lungs. His eyes wandered towards the shore and the setting light, witnessing his last in a cold land, foreign of his friends and kin. As the scattered rays began to fade in the twilight, Valkorion Ithelanen whispered one thing.

“Kairn…”

And so the elf died, far from home and in an enemy’s land. His body slowly morphed into the tree, bark and moss overcoming his frame with only broken plate and a twisted face to remain of the once proud General. Little did he know, a war brewed at home. His kin had been crowned monarch, and the following campaign would lead the nascent King to the broken body of his brother. Only a path of blood lays between.

 

 

 

----

 

Amongst his shattered body laid two satchels. They burst at the brim with letters, notes, and expansive documents. The wind would deliver these unto scavengers; therein, finding themselves eventually to the civilized nations and home: Dominion. Such titles would be found submitted to the public library and those concerned with the last documents of the late Valkorion,

 

Spoiler

 

-

The Establishment Clause

 

PROJECT SANCTUM

 

On Leadership

 

The Path Forward

 

((More writings coming soon.))

 

 

 

 

[Chase 3793]

At Caras Eldar, a 'Ker who once served under Valkorion, now had risen in his place. The proud Praetor of the Dominion went about his daily life. Patrolling, organizing, fighting, surviving. But not a week went by, that he did not think of his fellow Brother in Bronze. He had heard of his death. Mourning him, but life went on. Valkorion, a martyr, truly. Slain by the treacherous Uruks of Krugmar. A behemoth had slain his former commander, and brother. Vengeance was necessary, for the loss of a man of the nation. And so it would be given. In form of the coming siege of Krugmar. He prepared the siege equipment himself. He trained his men, and woman. He prepared the nation for war. The siege was months away, but he didn't care. Daily upkeep of the machines, and daily training with them regardless."There will be repayment for their crimes, and I will see it brought unto them." He muttered to himself, on more then one occasion. He worked relentlessly, ensuring everything was set. The orcs were given chance for repentance, but yet, denied. And thus, their Rex was killed. And their nation shall soon follow.

[Dromui 755]

Equally reserved.

[Guest]

"My family has been destroyed by the ravages of war and I can do nothing to stop it." 

 

King Kairn was distraught by the news and nobody was able to comfort him in his state of uneasiness and woe. He was a man who had seen many horrible things in his life time; whether it be rampaging Undead and genocidal radicals or men killed by volleys of arrow fire during sieges. Bearing witness to some of the most gruesome crimes the world had to offer, he assumed he had seen it all time and time again. He said lowly, "Consequences for my actions. Your name will go down in the annals of our people, brother. Forever." 

[Burnsy 437]

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.