To Remember the Fallen

[Blanchables 528]

To Remember the Fallen

Issued and Confirmed 12th of Owyns's Light, 1733

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The forces of Arcas rode into the city in packs, some mounted atop armored horses, others walking alongside the bustling streets in droves. The various armors and colors would glint in the sunlight as they confidently strode forward, prepared to defend Curonia and Arcas against any of the voidal horrors that presented themselves before the blades of the valiant soldiers. No sooner than when the armies had begun to settle in their place, awaiting amongst the various space and houses that scattered across the voidal crystal ridden city, would a stirring begin to take place underneath their very feet…

 

With a sudden eruption from the ground, two fleshy beasts would emerge, crying outwards in a desperate plea for sustenance as they hungrily looked to the gathering of the Descendants, preparing to feast upon their newly acquired targets. However, the speed and ferocity of the citizens of Arcas were duly noted, as their forces began to charge and rush forward towards the beasts, swords drawn, spears leveled, bows drawn. An atmosphere of magic would course through the air as various mages began to alight their surroundings with sparks of arcane energy, beginning to fizz throughout the wind as each bolt met its target, striking into the fleshy substance that was these voidal terrors. Blood, flesh, and gore would spill from the creatures as the Descendants continued their relentless assault, undaunted by the task before them. Just as swiftly as the mighty had risen, they had just as swiftly been sent back to where they came from, facing the vengeful wrath of a combined force of humans, elves, orcs, and dwarves. 

 

Meanwhile, whilst the battle between the Descendants and the two voidal spawns occurred, a different problem was occurring within the streets of the manor districts. Separated from the main forces of Arcas, this group of warriors was tasked with a difficult mission of destroying waves upon waves of different beings, each seemingly more impossible than the last. Mountains of bodies would begin to pile as the Descendants pushed through this ocean of enemies, with many casualties beginning to form against the tide of the void. However, through sheer determination, the forces of Arcas cleaved through the last of the overwhelming voidal forces, taking a moment of rest to begin healing the wounded and count their losses. Though, it would not be long before another rumbling, far greater in magnitude would begin to appear in the ground beneath them, a familiar voice echoed out over the city as the various armies and citizenry of Arcas lifted their heads…

 

Colossal and monstrous, with an innate ability to inspire dread within the Descendants, Mother was fast to act. Her tendrils shot from her form with the speed of a bullet, as a disgusting cry of terror bellowed from her maw, the various women and children of Curonia, along with soldiers and mages of the armies, were sucked into the darkened abyss of Mother, their cries being the last thing heard before they disappeared forever. Shocked, but not broken, the Descendants were quick to act as they began to slash at the various appendages that shot outwards, while the Paladins, led by Lefkos, began casting spells meant to bring the beast downwards, grounding it long enough for their forces to attack. Atop the beast, a lone figure would emerge tossing down a small gemstone towards the Descendants, shouting towards them to catch it. An aged Curonian Knight would charge forward, rushing to catch it, staring down as he did so. A look of recognition would cross his face as he’d blink, before allowing Mother’s tongue to take hold of him, pulling him back upwards as the creature began to soar above the city. A maniacal laughter erupted as Mother consumed the Knight whole, soaring high above the buildings, though a faint beeping would be heard from her core. The Descendants would look onward in horror as the creature filled them with dread once more. However, the creature’s laughter would be short lived as an explosion would would suddenly erupt from within its core, shattering the voidal being as its entrails would splatter across the city of Avalain. 

 

With Mother defeated and the denizens of Arcas now taking a moment of solace to tend to their wounded and dying, a collective breath of relief would flood across the people. If but for a moment, the Descendants cared not for boundaries and race, culture and ethos. They simply cared for each other. A threat so consuming that not only lives were taken from them, but borders. They looked to one another in a familiar bond, not seeing the prejudices that would once before separate and embolden them to act against one another, but would instead cherish and revel in their camaraderie. They took their time in this bond, continuing to care for one another, to indulge in this feeling of brotherhood, to tend to the wounded of their number, and to remember the fallen.
 

[libertyybelle 6187]

A small frown came upon Alaina’s visage. She sat within her halls of Astorga, her hand placed onto her heart. “May they rest well with GOD.”

[1_Language_1 1671]

Matthias remains in rehabilitation, trying to figure out how to use that children’s matching-shape-toy. He is currently trying to shove the circle into the triangle slot. He had difficulty speaking, finding words, it hurt. Surely, it would return with time, but never fully. Rutledge was not able to remember some events, like his wedding, or the Sacking of Ves.

[Arkelos 1027]

Illern Deathsbane, who was one of the people responsible for bringing a floating beast down to the ground, now rests. She survived, it was no short of a miracle. But the cost on her was outrageously high. Both arms were lost, but her hope yet remained. She would be back soon enough, things just have a way of working out.

[Baudouin 160]

Constantine would stand atop the corpse of a horror, bottling its blood into a vial, before speaking out.

"Friends, comrades, Elves, Men, Women and folk of all races! Today we stood as one against the forces of beyond. Today, we cast aside our differences, and banded together as one to fight for Arcas. Today, we were not Curonian, Vesian, Sutican, Llyrian. Today, we were all Arcasian. Today, we proved once and for all that Mother and her cadre are not invincible! This is a glorious day for saving Arcas, and I am innumerably proud of all of you! Every single one of you is a hero today, in not just my books, but the books of history, whether you were levied by your Lords or people like I persuaded you here to save Arcas. Let it be known from today that we will never fall to these beings, and that WE! STAND! UNITED!" he raises a sword above his head as he makes his statement for victory. 

[MeteorDragon 3441]

Xavis Ashwood remain in his coma for now but his mind wouldbt forget the sacrifices of those who fought along side him. In his mind, he prays for those lost ones.

[HurferDurfer1 2978]

Ilkazar sits with burnt hair and hurt bones cause the paladins wouldn't help him!

[Skyrunner 257]

Utaria Helenson-Anarion sat with her body broken in the tavern, which was being used currently as a makeshift clinic. She stared out into the street in a haze as person after person was brought in. They were brought in beaten, bloodied, and battered. Elves, Humans, and Dwarves. Footmen, mages, and druids. All were brought in. All bled just the same and all that blood fell upon the ground on which the paladin sat, mixing together in an undistinguishable mess. The doctors, so few in number for the amount of injured, were a similar hodgepodge of experiences, and yet there were no questions of purity, of nationality, of blood, of alligence. Victory would come but at such a high cost.

[DummStuff 8]

Just as the chunks and gore of the erupted voidal monsters were splattered across Curon, so shattered were Robin’s memories of the event, and for much before that aswell. Upon his slow awakening, his mind was blissfully ignorant to the horrors that he and so many others had faced, many not so lucky as he. His countless years of struggle turned to a nonsensical blur, even his own name became lost to him as he resorted to a name few would ever recall as his own: Aren Redwood. However, each day after was a stride towards recovery. As painful and frustrating as it may be, he slowly begins to pick up the scattered pieces, enough to understand the great sacrifices that were made on that fateful day. For now, he remains cautious of his state, recalling what he can of his efforts and the efforts of his brave compatriots with pride, and muttering silent prayers for those lost and in grief.  

[Zacho 2177]

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

 

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