THE UNSHARED MERCY

[Javert 9615]

Spoiler

Wanted to do a brief narrative post about some events which transpired earlier today. I did this just for fun. Enjoy!

THE UNSHARED MERCY

Quiet had the day been so far. The Rex sat upon his throne in Fort Ilzruck, staring ahead into the warm pool of water which rested within the center of the room. In times such as these, the Rex’s mind was often brought back to his childhood days. He reminisced upon a time when he and his brothers would visit the warm springs nestled in quiet places among the Ailmere. There they’d relax for hours until their Father, the warlord Grugmak, bade them back to camp.

 

So too did his mind wander to his first hunt and the day he earned his tattoos and warpaint. The day he claimed the pelt of a bear for himself. How he longed to be young again, to be a nomad in the vast snow of the Ailmere…

 

“Mighty Rex!” called the voice of an Orc, startling Torosh from his daydreams. The Frost Uruk blinked himself awake, then turned to the one who had spoken to him. With a gesture of his red hand, he awaited for the Uruk to speak.

 

“A Princess! An Imperial Princess! The daughter of Hadrian the Mad!”

 

The words were sobering. Torosh straightened up in his throne and focused his gaze upon the messenger before speaking for himself. “Where do they have her?”

 

“Urguan, Lord-Rex. The Salvian Shamizir and your son Grommar took her to their capital.”

 

‘They’ll demand her head,’ he thought. ‘They’ll want her dead if they cannot achieve a ransom or a battle.’ Time was of the essence, and Torosh knew this.

 

“Send for the Targoth. Tell him he is to meet Shamizir at the coast of Ipanema. After you do so, ride to Urguan as quickly as you can. Tell Shamizir and his Warband that they are to bring the Princess back here.”

 

The messenger pumped his fist over his heart before turning and running from the throne room. The Rex rose from his throne whilst clenching then un-clenching his fists repeatedly. A low grumble escaped his throat as he made his way down to the bonfire of Ghorazad in the city center.

 

Many Spirit’s Minutes passed, and the Rex’s jaw continued to clench with each waking moment. Soon enough, a familiar voice broke the silence;

 

“Gate!” Roared the familiar voice of Shamizir the Sanguine, leader of the Salvians. Though Torosh had never come to trust the Salvians again, especially after the Siege of the Rock, he knew their hatred of the Empire was much stronger than any other grudge. The Rex quickly dispatched an Orc to heave the gate open, and in rode a small column of Salvian, Dreadlandic, and Belethian riders.

 

As Shamizir approached the waiting Rex, the Frost Orc could catch a glimpse of the prisoner that was seemingly of such high value to the Alliance. She was no older than 17, Torosh determined, and she appeared a rather gaunt and sickly figure. Something about the girl’s appearance brought a pang of sympathy to the Rex’s chest as he approached Shamizir’s horse.

 

“Your prisoner, Lord-Rex” Said Shamizir with a cackle as he brought the bound Princess down from his horse, setting her upon her feet before the Rex. Torosh, however, did not find himself in a humorful mood even as the cries and jeers of the gathering crowd voiced a different opinion.

 

“Hang her!” “She’s the spawn of Iblees!” came the cries of the Ghorazad townsfolk. Yet, when Torosh looked upon the Princess, he saw not a monster or a combatant, but a young woman who had become a victim to her Father’s war. The Rex shook his head and spoke aloud to the gathering townsfolk.

 

“Make space. Leave her be.”

 

In spite of their own opinions, the commands of the Rex were heeded. Space was quickly made around the Princess, to whom Torosh now gave his full attention. He stepped forth, examining the woman’s face for injuries, only finding a small cut upon her cheek which had begun to close up. Torosh retrieved a small rag from a pocket and quickly removed any lingering blood from her face.

 

“I pray you were treated kindly on the roads?” The Rex offered, briefly checking her for more injuries. When he found none, Torosh straightened up once more.

 

“Well enough,” The Princess replied. “I am Livia Caesonia, Princess of the Empire of Man.”

 

“Torosh’Mak, Rex of the Horde.” The Frost Uruk looked around at the crowd before letting out a sigh and beginning to slowly walk towards the Clan Hall of the Maks. “Come. I will see you fed.”

 

A path was made for the Rex and the bound Princess within the crowd. Upon entry into the Clan Hall, Klog’Akaal quickly posted up outside the door to prevent entry without Torosh’s consent. “I hope you do not mind steak.” The Rex said as he affixed a plate for the Princess. Once it was ready, he placed it in front of Livia and sat across from her. Now did Torosh get a proper look at her - She was no doubt sickly, gaunt, and yet bore the signature features of a Horen. Torosh did not know why, but he felt himself growing concerned for this woman - this innocent, who had not yet reached her twentieth birthday.

 

“I am quite fond of venison” Spoke the Princess as she ate the offered food. Torosh spent another moment observing her before speaking again. “I have a daughter about the same age as you,” he said.

 

“What is her name?” asked the Princess.

 

“Garona’Mak,” replied Torosh. “She is the third of my children, of which I have seven.”

 

A pause lingered before Torosh spoke again.

 

“I do not intend to kill you. That is why I had you brought here, to avoid your needless bloodletting. The Urukhim are not as savage as your Imperials believe us to be.”

The Princess stopped eating momentarily to ponder Torosh’s words. She turned to look at him, her expression hard to read. “My Father would not have done the same. He would kill your children if he had captured them.”

 

“I know,” said the Rex. “My second youngest child, Ilza, was captured by your Father’s Knights on the first day of the war. His Knights beat her, bruised her, threatened to cut off her hand or hang her. She was seven years of age at that time.”

 

The words seemed to weigh heavy upon the Princess, though she for a time remained silent.

 

“But you are not Hadrian, and Hadrian is not you. I will not hold a child accountable for the sins of her Father, no matter the crimes the Father has dealt unto my people. I will leave you with this; your Father would not send even a ransom for his daughter, whilst I started a war for mine. You must choose how to go forward from here, for that is why the Creator gave us free will, no?”

 

Torosh rose to his feet, drew his blade, and cut Livia’s binds free in a swift motion. The blade was soon returned to its sheathe as the Rex escorted Livia outside and atop his own War Rhino. “Do not resign yourself as a slave to your society.”

 

With these final words imparted, the Rex brought Livia with a company of Belethians to the border between Beleth and Kurai-Kuni. There, she let the Princess free. Heavy did the decision weigh on his mind, but in his moment of doubt, he thought back to the day when Ilza had been captured. He knew the pain of almost losing a child, and it was one that haunted him frequently. Still, he knew in his heart he had done what he believed to be right, even if he knew his enemy would not do the same.

 

And so the Rex turned his Rhino about and began the long trek back to Ghorazad.

 

 

[Adelemphii 1766]

"..This will set a precedent, no doubt. But I think this was the correct choice." Stated a woman behind mask, approving of the decision of the Rex in allowing the one whom even their father- the Emperor- had left for dead.

[PolarLoLs 984]

 

From the ventures between Urguan and The horde the masked man thought

“If they kill this child, the cycle resets.. Progress made none” 

So as the princess was let go his shoulders lightened

“I see why you are Rex”

 

[Metamancy 1759]

Spoiler

 

[Werew0lf 24180]

“They let her go? That is interesting,” The Emperor murmured upon hearing the news of his daughter’s release.

 

His following words caused those nearby to stare with concern. “The urukim seem like nice people, you know? If it was me, I would have chopped his daughter into little pieces and sent them to each vassal — it’d be like a collecting-game. He would have to piece the puzzle; the head goes there, the arm goes there, and eventually, once all her body parts were collected, he would finally make her whole…- I would not have cared if she was a child or adult, it would have been without mercy.” 

[i.uomini 2552]

"but this is not making sense" said The Young Prince to Grandfather upon receiving the report; (@Based1Salmon)
"the captive is meant to Draw in their Army." -+- "is all this discussion about the CAPTIVE?" 
He paced back and forth behind the Perduran Gates... "the armies were supposed to FIGHT! isnt that the point of all this!?" the boy's arms flailed angrily in the air, demanding no response to the inquiry

[Yeetboy0206 1574]

Maddock Tam was carrying for his own twin girls when he heard the news. Too late to have impacted anything, he thanks GOD for the wisdom of the Rex, knowing how so many others would have picked vengeance. “If we lose our souls fighting this war, what is the point of victory at all?” He turns back to his beloved girls, and he prays for a world where their children will not be touched by war.

[confusedjester 811]

The once-princess of Keen, now woman of Angrenost, peered down at her slow, but fading scars. Little, violent reminders of her own time in clutches of the Urukim. She remembered the nightmares bestowed in her capture, from the corrupted, tainted, demonic creatures that lingered amongst the allies of REX...

 

Heilwig scowled then, in hate for both beastspawn and Uruk alike, "And yet, no mercy was granted upon me..." 

[ArgentEra 459]

The musin king was sitting in the dimly lit, undecorated tavern his people would one day enjoy when a member of the watch delivered the news. 

"From the Horde,"

"Thank you - go now, rest." He said, waving the mouse away, off to spend time with his loved ones. As he left, Quill read the news, thoughts lingering on the young woman who's wound he cleaned and attempted to mend before she was whisked away. "The uruk leader was wise... to kill her would have brought only more pain. I am glad this cruel world did not claim another young life too soon."

[Chimeraof1999 1187]

28 minutes ago, Werew0lf said:

“They let her go? That is interesting,” The Emperor murmured upon hearing the news of his daughter’s release.

 

His following words caused those nearby to stare with concern. “The urukim seem like nice people, you know? If it was me, I would have chopped his daughter into little pieces and sent them to each vassal — it’d be like a collecting-game. He would have to piece the puzzle; the head goes there, the arm goes there, and eventually, once all her body parts were collected, he would finally make her whole…- I would not have cared if she was a child or adult, it would have been without mercy.” 

Spoiler

You are worse than the necromancer rp

 

[Werew0lf 24180]

4 minutes ago, Chimeraof1999 said:

  Hide contents

You are worse than the necromancer rp

 

 

Spoiler

I try my best.

 

[Pancakehz 2279]

Azhug of the Gorkils got word of these actions. The old Uruk let out a breath of relief, "Torosh shows great mercy agh restraint. Even now, he battles the curse placed upon us and makes an example of how Urukhim should be." The elder Uruk returns to his quarters, where he readies himself to face the psychopathic tendencies of the Emperor of Man.

[Epicethan4 948]

Morroick Starbreaker nods “If Hadrian does not care his daughter, how can he care for his people?”

[Chimeraof1999 1187]

16 minutes ago, Werew0lf said:

 

  Reveal hidden contents

I try my best.

 

Spoiler

It wasn't a insult, you actually play a psychopath way better than the players forced to

 

[Riot 743]

Dorin Starbreaker stood alone with the missive clenched in his hands, the parchment trembling faintly as his eyes traced its words. The stone around him was quiet now, but Urguan had not been so, not in his memory.

 

The halls returned to him as he read. Raised voices. Fury rolling through carved stone like a forge pushed too far. Pixtus at his side, both of them pressing low, steady words into a crowd that no longer wished to listen. And there, amid the chaos, the Princess unarmed, shaken sat where she had been placed.

Quill had been there then.

 

A small mouse, steady despite the madness, tending to the Princess’s wounds even as the crowd called for her death. Dorin remembered how strange it had felt, how grounding to see care offered in a place so thick with hatred. Bandages wrapped. Blood wiped away. Mercy, quiet and stubborn, refusing to yield.

 

And then there had been steel.

 

Dorin’s jaw tightened as the memory surged. A brother of the mine, blade raised in wrath. No pause. No room for words. Dorin remembered stepping forward without thought, shield rising on instinct as he placed himself between the Princess and the blow meant to end her life.

 

The fight had been brief, yet wrong in a way battle never was. Even now, his hands shook as if the clash still echoed through his bones. Not from exhaustion alone, but from the fracture it had carved into him. Blood and honor grinding against one another like faulted stone.

 

The adrenaline lingered still. A tremor in his arms. A tightness in his chest. Pixtus had remained close once it was done—silent, watchful—as Dorin stayed with the Princess until she was escorted from the halls. He did not leave her side. Nor did Quill, who continued to tend her wounds until she was taken beyond Urguan’s stone.

 

Not because she wore a crown.

Not because her father’s sins were forgotten.

 

But because execution born of rage was not justice.

Dorin’s grip tightened on the missive.

 

He wanted the Emperor to answer. That fire had not dimmed. He wanted payment for every dwarf crushed beneath Imperial banners.

But this—this—had not been the way.

 

If Urguan surrendered honor in exchange for vengeance, then its foundations would crack from within. And as Dorin Starbreaker lowered the missive, hands still unsteady from memory and resolve alike, he knew he would rather carry the weight of that choice than be the dwarf who let the stone give way.