Upon Mali Fields

[Gaius ~ Sertorius Cagan 62]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCTWp7heCaU

 

"Yoo'
mawst' gaw', yoo' mawst' witness what is bein' dawn' in this 'Urth,
even if it means being cast inter' thar' bloodspurt' awf' thar' Spawn of
Horun'. Gaw' naw', meet wit' yer' leader O Sophist, let yer' eyes widen
at thar' mistakes of yoo'r own, yoo'r heart be applied thar' pain awf'
our sins. Bring them back tew' thar' realm awf' Dreems' when yoo'r eyes
close after a day awf' fightin', thawt' is... if yoo' cawld' bring
yoo'rself tew' sooth yoo'r mind long enough to sleep"

 

The
amassed congregation of Knights, soldiers, even lowly peasants had
gathered at the bridge leading into Malinor and it was there, slowly
marching with Tyrus of the White Roses; that he could begin to hear the
shouts and cries of the Elfs. It truly fit the term nicely, for verily
it seemed as if Humans had spawned forth from the ground, the Spawn of
Horen; as they marched across the bridge. The lamenting of the Elfs were
soon drowned out by the din of clashing iron greaves as they shuffled
against the bodies they were linked to and the boots pounded on the
paths like war-drums, arrows had begun being let loose on the colliding
mass that seemed to shape into a battering ram. Sertorius in his own
battle attire strove to keep up, he tried to look up and over the
shoulders of many men running; only to have an arrow strike him square
in the shoulder-bone and had him reeling in a tight circle before being
led to the water by the commotion of soldiers jostling past him.

 

Upon
lifting himself up and over the fallen wooden beams, he stared through a
wooden gate left slightly ajar at the sight of Elfen bodies laid strewn
in disorder; curtled blood and entrails lay thrown about and trashed
the streets within the inner-portion of Malinor under a Great Tree. He
supped his gasp as Thomas Chivay and other soldiers marched once again
on the street, stepping disrespectfully onto the dead bodies and peered
out towards Sertorius with a satisfactory smirk; embodying the obvious
fact that Oren had felled Malinor. Sertorius, scrambling to hide what
may have seemed to be dismay began to rattle his falx along the wooden
gate and hearkened loudly concerning the victory; letting the troops
pass in amusement.

 

Dusk
seemed to have fell at that moment, as the dust became more apparent
and settled in as an eerie fog that masked the figures far and looting
as Sertorius escaped from the wooden gate and stumbled onto bodies over a
thick tree root that rimmed the earth past the housing district. The
smell seemed to have consumed him as it choked Sertorius and he fell
over and smacked his cheek onto the carved cheek of an Elfish body; the
blood leaving an imprint that was colored by the tear that trickled down
his own cheek. His surroundings seemed to pull inward as the carnage
became more and more torturous, Sertorius ran with a full jog down the
path towards the main gate; seeking escape.

 

 

The
flashback of Pertinax Horen, after having been caught trying to
stealthily bound across the rapids that ran around the base of the
plateau that the Sophist Enclave stood; confessing to his uneasiness of
having to participate in battle shook Sertorius as he wiped the few
tears of shock from his face. Having not slain an Elf, yet he was so
disturbed would have erred anyone as how could a man with hands clean be
so bereft in grief at another's deed? The sight of the young man's face
burned as much as tearful shock singed his face as he ran down the
path, only to see a Mali'ker. The Mali'ker had caught sight of Sertorius
first, Elphaba had frozen into place at the sight of an armored man
nearing her. Whilst trying to render himself sensible to talk, he merely
motioned with his hands that he was of no harm; yet it was of no use.
The Mali'ker and Sertorius had separated as quick as they had ran into
each other.

 

 

[Diri/GreenKoopaBros 58]

The sound of shouting awoke Ivar rather startlingly. Sitting up in his bed, his eyes would adjust from sleep and see figures running about, shadows, it seemed. He would stand up, making his way to the front door when a fight seemed to break out in front of his house. His large figure shoved its way out of the door, knocking it over, for it had no hinges from his previous bout with it. Upon stepping outside, he was stunned into silence at the sight around and above him. Men, countless men, in heavily clad and shining armor were cutting down Elfs and burning some of the homes in the trees.

 

A sudden voice cried out "We have won, White Rose has won!", and "The Princess is dead!", and reassured Ivar's fear. "No" He said to himself, whispering dreadfully, memories flashing through his mind of his experience with the White Rose. His first thought was to run to the labor hall, to check on the princess, as his mind respected her the most of all of Malinor, but something else screamed into his head "Run to the Gate!". And so his body obeyed, as in on some survival will.

 

His body charged down the path as he barreled to the main gate. He was almost there, when a man was in his way, the enemy. He knew, that even with his mass of size, his spirit wouldn't have allowed him to fight, his respect for all living and preservation of such. Ivar thought that it was all over, knowing that this man was with White Rose and how nasty, if not evil, they could be. But, feeling a hand on his shoulder, the man gave him a sword and whispered for him to run.

 

Ivar didn't take the sword, confused and of no use with a weapon as such, for the mere sight of a sword, sickened him. Ivar hadn't the wits, at the time, to immediately run. The Man screamed to him, this time "Get out of Malinor, it's not safe!", to which Ivar was, again, speechless. How could a man who had supported the White Rose, helped slay innocent and, otherwise peaceful, elfs, be helping him escape. Only when the man left for pillaging, did Ivar stand up. His mind was blank, and he did the only thing he thought to do, he ran.

 

Ivar ran and ran, never looking back. He tried to stop Elfs who were coming up the path to Malinor, but each and every one of them refused, knowing the slaughter that they so uselessly wished to throw themselves to. He didn't understand. Why was all of this happening, why wouldn't they just run away? So Ivar kept running, he ran without looking or caring where he went, until he happened upon a large and eerily quiet stair way. 

 

Ivar had ran clear to the Cloud Temple steps, where he finally broke down, breathing heavily from the trip. He began to weep, a large man like him, reduced to a devastated heap on the steps as everything hit him at once. His home, his life, his friends, were gone. He had nowhere to go, now. No job, no food, and no safety. He wept for Titania, for his friend, and especially for Malinor.