Awakening The Sleeping Giant

[Peter Chivay 2494]

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WM22U4BERGI

 

The sound of war drums boom across Kaedrin, followed by flutes and the unmistakable sound of metal clanking. It was that time once more. Roses rushed for their weapons and armor with large smiles on their faces, ready to run toward the sounds of chaos.

 

"It's dat' time again lads! Time teh' crush yet another enemy! Bahahahah!"

 

Peter speaks with a bellowing laugh, adorning his finely crafted plate armor and bastard sword. He shouts above the sounds of his soldiers getting ready. Prepared to fight side by side with them... die if he had to.

 

"The Dwarves seek tu' come our glorious nation and come fer' my head! I'd rather stomp on their short little arses before I let my neck be slit! We don't wait for the Dwarven legions to march, we march un' them!"

 

The men shout in succession with their King, lifting their swords high in the air as they shout a mix of 'For the King!' and 'Glory to Kaedrin!' slamming their boots onto the ground to cause even more noise. Some say their boots could be heard throughout the Empire.

 

"Men... we shall shuw' no mercy tu' our former ally an' friend, fer' now they are our enemy- and will be treated as such. Battle is deh' mu'st magnificent action in which eh' human can indulge. It brings out deh' best in all men; it removes all that is afriad and scared. Yet, all men are afraid in battle. The coward is the one who lets his fear overcome his sense of duty- yet Kaedrin does not 'arbor cowards! We crush them under our boot!"

 

After his short speech, the King sheathes his bastard sword and instead lifts his family's precious heirloom- Sparrows beak- the very axe held by Henselt in all his glorious victories. Pumping it in the air, all the men seem to know what to shout.

 

SIEG OREN!

SIEG CHIVAY!

SIEG KAEDRIN!

 

The sleeping giant has been awoken once more.

[Abeam 511]

Alexei Nicodemus raises his blade into the air, calling forth,

 

 

"Glory to Kaedrin!"

[Shadeleaf 1022]

"Here we go again..."

Arzota mumbles, walking through the checkpoint and hearing the faint cries in the distance, moving a bit quicker on his feet.

[Silevon 497]

"Glory to Kaedrin!"

[Urahra 5777]

Tanith begins her laborious work in the kitchen.

 

"Time to start making war rations again, I suppose."

[Temp 2006]

Smirking, he looks to those about the room with him, "Keep track o' the 'eads fallen, aye? Doubt this will jus' be stumpies. When ye' 'ave 'ad time to match carcass to face, we'll 'ave their supporters to butcher."

[3Pac 104]

"Glory tah Kaedrin!"

[Altiak 1648]

 

Jason lifts his own bidenhander high above his head, a grin plastered upon his face. Chanting along with his fellow Roses, Jason beams with pride. He and his comrades had been training vigorously as of late, harder and longer than was accustomed. Yet, Jason felt an energetic feeling within him, ready to tackle any foe, and claim any life for the glory of his beloved kingdom. He was imbued with a sense of nationalistic pride, that seemed to emit from him.

 

Once the speech did reach its conclusion, the Rose proceeded to the keep, indulging themselves with various assortments of food, and gulping down mug after mug of ale. They conversed excitedly, discussing several battle tactics, each man expressing the eagerness he felt to partake in the upcoming battles.

 

Jason knew that the Rose would dominate in yet another conflict, portraying their might, and reminding all of what they were capable of.

[calculusdesola 1658]

 

 

 

Already the borderlands sink under heel of hundreds of clanking swords, axes and hooves.  Brothers unknowingly stab fellow brothers instead of the enemy beyond in the chaotic skirmishes which locally escalate into one-day historical battles.  The battles aren't all in one place, one small, centralized gulch; pawns are moved on the great checkerboard cubes, and massive squares of spearmen and archers advance from one position to the enemy, miles and miles apart from one another.  

 

There are so many dead of sickness and arrow wounds and decapacitations, that in the massive piles of corpses, those on top are so pale from all their blood trickling down to the pools at the bottom.  

 

If any people were made to befriend - to coexist with humanity, it was the Dwarves, who valued toil, diligence and sturdiness.  But the Roses are hated from every hour to the next by all who understand the concept of time, often for crimes never once committed, and lies spread like a venomous ivy across all the old columns of the world.  Oren's rivals will never let the Emperor forget this.

 

In our world, it seems only humans can be barbarians, in the eyes of other races.  If any orc, elf nor dwarf held a silver dagger behind King Chivay's back and had the perfect slip of time to slay him in his sleep, they'd be right happy to.

[Ventraux- King of the Rose 60]

Ventraux looks up from his dinner plate at the sound of Peter's shouting, waiting for him to finish before returning to his meal.

 

'So now it is the Dwarves that want te test out metal, huh? When'll these fool fuckin' learn that t'is'll lead te nofin but dead on bof sides... bust mostly on theirs.'

 

He takes a large bite out of his meal before continuing.

 

"Looks loik it's time fer me te get  back to the siege workshop as we'll be needin' some 'eavy support."

[Solaba 144]

John Wilcocker grunts.

"We beh' fighting those midgets uh? Hope their shortness is made up with tha will of a good fight."

[Swgrclan 2682]

Grigori Alimaetor, Footman of the Roses sits slumped in his chair before the fire; a solemn sight, though hidden by the confines of the walls that make up his comfy little room. Word of the attack had not filled him to the brim with satisfaction and anticipation like his comrades, but anxiety - the burning sense of discomfort that he would fail in combat, much like he had against the Wargoth that nearly took the very ability to walk from him; yet, the aged man held the obligation to fight for his fellow man and his kingdom.

"Glory to Kaedrin," Muttered Grigori in a bitter tone as he sat in front of the fireplace.

[Raglin 64]

Watched this all transpire as he turned away from the scene, the keep of Hyrr loomed before him, casting a shadow over his eyes. He closes them, whispering.

"It begins. My very soul torn apart by this..."

He reopens them, whiping a tear which had shed in the thoughts of what seemed like his very livelihood split in half.

"Please, by Yemekar, by the Ruhn, let this end swiftly, for I fear if not, it'll end me."

The dwarf walks slowly into the keep.

[Esterlen 4499]

Jorji Costava sits dourly in his designated seat at the White Rose checkpoint administration area, the effigy of the Kaedreni sparrow looming over him threateningly.

All of a sudden, he yells a single, succinct phrase in the midst of stamping passports.

"Glory to Kaedrin!"

[problematic z 477]

A man in the infirmary of the mountain citadel of Ard Kerrack suddenly sits up from his bunk, hitting his head on the wooden support above him before falling flat again, he lets out a low sigh before sliding out of the dark corner that is his sleeping place and looking to an eager courier, he snatches the note out of the boy's hands and reads over it quickly, nodding before raising his hand in salute.

 

"Glory to Kaedrin." Adeon said, the courier replied with a bow of the head before running off to inform more men.