The Rise of True Rectitude

[Sechrim 12]

(OOC:)

This is a fantastic role play that you have going on here, I'm already hooked on what you're writing and just as someone else mentioned, you have an amazing talent, and I too believe that you could be a simply amazing Author. Keep up the good work, and I'll keep hanging onto every word.

[Samson Option 9652]

Thank You, Thank You, we have really strived hard and just yesterday I had my 'ideas' presented to all of the GMs in LotC and we have been lauded as a truly amazing Roleplayed 'Order' and we will be continuing our endeavors soon.

[Samson Option 9652]

Gaius strides out of the walled citadel of Nuremburg and approaches the ranks of men that look upon him with varying facial expressions of smirks, faint smiles, and stone visages. Seeing these men, Gaius brightens up and asserts their destination and gives them a speech about how the men they shall attack were ones who let arrogance seduce them to hoard the lands of Oren and separate themselves from the fact that they had to unite in the direst hour and failed.

The low noises of the marching of the Sariants fill the forests with an otherworldly noise, accompanied by the chants of somber calls of death and the hymns as perilous as what they seek to do. The Sariants march orderly, but seem aloft in the quiet forests, floating swiftly and quietly through to their destination. Upon seeing the first layer of walls, Gaius gestures to slow his men to a halt and whispers to his OrdenMarschalls Glylith and Samuel to organize the men to rush ladders against the walls. With heightened vocals in their chants, the Sariants plant some siege ladders firmly against the walls and climb up with shields raised over their heads.

Gaius struts solidly through the raised gate irons and looks within and sees the fleeing populace, ordering his men to take any straggling males and kill them if they resist. He then orders the buildings to be lit on fire and to spread embers throughout the paths they walk on...

Taking out some mixtures of egg whites and squid ink, he grits his teeth and finds a strip of wood to set up and writes:

Blind men, do you not see? Your walls will not hold if not held with stoic hearts, yet you lay about with greedy ambition for only your own gain

Gaius then sets the wooden strip to be seen easily and orders the Sariants to continue their push, little resistance indeed met so far. Upon seeing what seemed to be the central citadel of the castle, the Sariants were attacked from the narrow alleyways leaving the street they walked upon, but quickly repelled the desperate charges into their ranks and clean their blades off on their mail skirts. Continuing their hymns, aggravated by their annoyance in the futile attempts to turn them back. Gaius orders the Sariants to use salvaged anchor hooks and latch them onto the gates and together, Gaius personally wrapping the end of the rope around his greaves pull and detach and distort the gates for openings inside. Accompanied by his OrdenMarschalls, Gaius steps inside the citadel and immediately start reading signs directing to different buildings and are led by one leading to a modest room with a plethora of parchment nailed to the walls.

Gaius starts fumbling for the nails and rips them out of the sandstone wall, with ease as the sandstone easily cracks and detaches in shelled chunks. As Gaius acquires the many forms of parchment into a neat fold to be put under his chestplate, Glylith and Samuel both climb scaffolding and stairs into a tower and snuffs a freshly lit torch into the wood planks of the conical of the tower and leave the fire to fester and consume the air of the fair noon...

Along with the smoky beacon that stands tall now, as the sun creeps downward, the Sariants light the Guardian's banner on fire and leave the tatters to drift cleanly in the tense air and bury itself in the grains of sand...

Gaius, with the newly found information discusses with the Sariants his fiery feelings, of how the Order shall rise to combat the most deviously held value in a heart blackened by it's stockpiling; the arrogance of Man. With those words, he tears some of the signs and turns them about and begins writing one last warning to those who may bear witness after the Sariants return home from this attack...

You allowed your arrogance to seduce your view of reality. You separated yourself from the very men you had to keep good company with, you shall feel the pain of having your stockpile of greed taken, looted, burned, desecrated

[Jorgen Reimer 74]

Damm why am I never in one of these? Damm you Gaius and your job :mrgreen:

[Rakornokorgod 29]

Gaius, since your texture pack is lame, do you want me to take the screenies from now on? Tyrions pack ftw!

[Samson Option 9652]

The Sariants, whipping their hair out of their eyes and slowly fitting the helm onto their heads and strapping their swords onto their belts and march with a harsh chant out of the gates of Nuremburg...

The Vale Shall Fall

[Garukumus 81]

False Knights....

[Samson Option 9652]

Charred embers glow in the fog ridden night air, warming what appeared to be steam at the feet of the Sariants. The Vale lays in ruins, roofs collapsed from structural damage, belongings dragged out from the homes and laid bare on the crisp gravel paths. Bodies slain and blood drawn markedly in haphazard patterns as the Sariants continue their gruesome deeds accompanied by somber chants, Gaius glares at the windows of the houses they marched by, determined to snuff any and all men who would call for a festering resistance to the Teutonic Order. Gaius and his Sariants collide with every sword wielding man and quickly dispatch them, the anger at the populace of the Vale growing ever slowly, spitting on corpses and looting any and all weaponry and armour from the bodies they cast down to forever lie.

Upon rushing the Keep, the Sariants cut down the guards who attempt to assemble a defensive and throw their limp bodies in a pile outside of the Keep and drag the iron gate slowly down. Suddenly some Sariants flinch violently as lightning strikes the iron gates and electrocute them, sending them cursing and shouting in disapproval. A necromancer, mottled visage glaring at the men in the shelter of the Keep curses them and keeps shooting bolts as a scare tactic, but then Samuel hustles the archers to higher levels and start punching out windows. With a glint of quickly shot arrows, the Necromancer buckles and bleeds out and misses his last thrown lightning bolt...

[Samson Option 9652]

*Shuffling a parchment from out his yellow robes and ultimately discarding the yellow robes onto the ground, Gaius nails the parchment with a lengthy message onto the main gate*

'Your King, spared and returned his right to live, shall bear in his heart the gravest experience ever beheld. My men have invaded and assaulted the entirety of AlKhazaar, under the most elaborate disguise as Monks, and we seeked entry and pursued our tactic successfully. All you who witnessed the standing of the men of black crosses, know this! You shall not survive if you ever wish to step a single foot as obstacle to our path, whereas you read this message, men stir vile rumors; know that we are of the wisest creed. Sadly this land has fallen to the very trait that we seem cursed with, the arrogance of many men supersede their vision of reality, do you not realize what split Oren apart piece by piece? Oren laid as a puzzle strewn on the tables of the Undead as they gambled the destinies of many men, women, and children and Oren did not unite when the time needed it most.

Know this... our Black Crosses march against those so seduced by greed that they hid in the darkest crevice of their castles only concerned of the stockpile of their tarnished deeds. Stand not in our way, your King has been warned and so have you!'

[Samson Option 9652]

EXCERPT

The chants, hymns, and prayers of many men is heard in the distance, the rumbling of mail boots sing in the air the coming of soldiers. From out the west of Krugmar, soon a banner with a Black Cross appears to float above the numbers appearing out of the woods. With the hand gesture of the man leading the formation, the Sariants stand still, with a few waving their swords and shouting and others standing on their knees and releasing a ominous chant. The Hochmeister, leader of the Teutonic Order steps forward and issues the situation, the Kruglands is to be untainted by Human arrogance and admits his shame that men would attempt to plague other lands with their wishes fueled by greed...

[Samson Option 9652]

EXCERPT

Gaius approaches the Capital of Oren, AlKhazaar in his armour and strides to the gate, closed and creaking. With a shout, a guard cries out his intent upon entering and Gaius gives a false name... Marin. Entering, Gaius looks around and remembers his deeds only a month before, he remembers how he strode within in monk robes, claiming to be of St. Daniel. He looks upon the Keep in a distance, remembering the struggle and cries of mercy of the men his Sariants marched upon. With an odd look upon his face, he stares out as he remembers the sound of thunder crackling about AlKhazaar, causing him to snap out of his memory and keeps walking. Approaching the slums, he overhears a man in a struggle and rushes to the scene to see many guards punish a rebel and chuckles. Suddenly straightening up, Gaius approaches the scene closer, causing some of the guards to notice and shout at him, Gaius simply requests to talk to the highest of ranks.

Hearing a reply from the appropriate man, Gaius heeds him to talk privately to him, but the Sergeant scoffs and tells him that all of his guards are in their presence and that they shall continue as such. With agreement, Gaius slowly takes off his armor, link by link, piece by piece until his mail shirt underneath is exposed causing gasps and taunts as many guards surround him. Gaius looks around and sighs, knowing that he is nearing a deathly situation, but looks boldly into the Sergeant's eyes and continues...

This is for all of Oren... My apologies, deepest and truest for the actions that I had taken in the past month. As many of you may hear, rumours simmer as gruel does in the cooking pot, but surely the taste of something so bland would make you recoil, hear me out please. The Order was founded after the successful Undead invasion, verily they did not take all of Oren and I feel euphoric, but they did succeed in much of which should have never been granted to them. We rose to combat the growing arrogance amongst the many shattered fiefs of Oren and their guilds who denied to unite when Oren needed it most. Many say we kill women and children, our Canon contradicts it, I have stood as commander of our forces and oversaw only the killing of resisting men, all women and children were returned to Whisper Isles and other surrounding Oren vicinities. You must realize that when a man is seduced by his greed, he will scrap the earth and pile all that he can pile, as it grows his greed grows, he consumes what he cannot and should not; which is not what Oren needs nor deserves.

The attack on AlKhazaar was based on false information, the informant has been given in name as sadly he escaped after the information given, I was told that King Edmund opposed our purpose and verily wished these guilds to stand, the same guilds who segmented Oren enough for the Undead to swallow swaths of land whole. Thus our offer stands as this... do not shy or fear to ask for our assistance, we have realized after many talks with the Oren Military that we are wise equally and hopefully shall stand as so, we advocate with you to not shy away from asking for our support and I shall personally continue talks to support Oren. If the Undead truly are increasing their attacks, something lurks in the hearts of evil and a plan may be plotted, surely we can plot better than them.

Our Offer will forever stand, and if a man of our ranks strike against your flesh, then we will bear their flesh in AlKhazaar for all to see and shall deal justice, my amicable stance will not be tarnished by disobedience and it will be dealt with for all of AlKhazaar to see...

[Samson Option 9652]

Gaius strides along the King's Road, blinded with hazy distortions of what he had witnessed just hours before. Just hours before, his Sariants were in pitched battle, having been ambushed marching towards the South in search of a rumored ruin, his companion and dear friend Cataris being cut down by savages. The memories of how Cataris and Gaius came from being harshest of enemies to the best of friends play in his mind, soothing him at moments and torturing shortly thereafter. He stumbles as wayfarers stare in wonder at the figure in mail armour almost tripping and falling over, Gaius however concentrates on any sign for a Sage to confide in. It is becoming to apparent to Gaius that he may need to impose his superior military in the coming events, knowing that he is more than capable of swaying the weights of situations to come.

In his sad confusion, he blinks and down the street he notices a man in pristine white robes, taken aback and blinks again to ensure he is not hallucinating. As Gaius opens his eyes, the robed sage locks eyes with Gaius and walks ever so slowly, causing Gaius to fall onto the ground in deeper throes of confusion. Gaius clutches his heart to slow his rapid beating and addresses the Sage who now stands over him, only to have a hand lended and swiftly put back on his feet. Staring in astonishment, the Sage beckons Gaius to follow him.

After miles trekked, the two arrive to the Cloud Temple, the magnificent structure clouded by the quibbling of multitudes of men in what seems like a heated situation. Nearing the scene, the Sage pulls out his staff and taps the ground and as people start to turn around and see the origin, men step back to give the Sage sight of the two Undead minions in their midst...

[Samson Option 9652]

Gaius raises both his hands, beckoning the Sariants to silence their hymns and prayers, lowering them in sync with the slowly quieting ambience around him and his men. Addressing them in complete quiet, he informs the Order of a grand military campaign to strike at which has been deemed a threat to the brittle peace briefly being held throughout Oren. Knowing that questionable figures have appeared in Oren's midst and realizing that Aegis is becoming more and more chaotic, Gaius tells his Sariants that the actions of the Teutonic Order from then on must be more calculated and more thought out. Announcing the peace that was struck with the Oren Military, Gaius voices that this will free the Order of an annoyance and enable to focus more on the darker horizons that lay near their borders.

Gaius informs his Sariants of coming reforms to build upon the great efficiency of the Military and the Teutonic Order in general, to be implemented soon...

[Samson Option 9652]

Gaius marches out of the Guardian's Citadel... for the second time. His Sariants push and shove chained men outside of the gate as the OrdenMarschall throws out the edges of a new flag and leaves it to flutter and fly alongside a tower of the Guardian's Citadel. Gaius takes the leader by both cheeks into his clenched hand and raises his head to look into his eyes and tells the leader, Adian that he will not return back to this castle again. Sliding his hand from Adian's mouth down to the base of his throat, he gives a violent shove that sends Adian backwards and lying on the cold cobblestone path they walked out onto. Lifting up his left foot, he sends a crushing blow to the abdomen of the leader and looks out to the other prisoners and states that he will make an example of them.

The OrdenMarschall, now walking out onto the path from the vantage point he just had, states of more men coming towards the castle. Gaius points at different locations and commands the Sariants to take their bound prisoners and to lay in those locations, setting an ambush. The foreseen intruders near the gate and acquire as to whom is within, with no response, the men enter with their hands on their hips and look about. The sudden intrusion of many gloom hymns and somber prayers make the men quicken their movements, spinning about trying to find the origin...

[Samson Option 9652]

Slowly lifting his face, the glint of his eyes being matched with the other Sariants slowly raising their heads, a hundred eyes reflecting in different arcs the fires of burning architecture. Strands of hair rippling atop the heads of the victors, just as the spittle of embers fly into the night sky. Determination is a word befitting for this moment, as Gaius and his Sariants stand juxtaposed in black and white to the fiery reds and yellows a burning township. Just as slowly as their eyes fix to the west, their mouths curve and let out the gravest sound to send the most bone-chilling vocals throbbing into the icy air. The rise of the baritone of the impending hymns sung make some of the Sariants grin with fortitude, the swell of hearts with a strong bravery cause some of the Sariants to bend on one knee and sing out in a trill.

Gaius looks out as the wind picks up, causing the mail skirts of the Teutonic Knights to ripple and cause a tambourine effect to add onto the songs, hymns, and chants originating from the Sariants. Gaius rests his hand smoothly along the hilt of his sword, takes a few steps forward and looks back at his men with a smirk of admiration towards his men. With a twitch of his wrists, Gaius grasps his sword and slides it out of the scabbard and holds the sword up in the air. He looks to the west once more and declares:

Sariants, understand our passions are inflamed beyond saving, an inferno in the heart and a hearty fire to fuel our muscles. The very men who fear us shall realize that we seek to near them in hopeful amnesty, but it would be a travesty to see them be the ones dealt with by our swords! These words are simply to boost morale, but we all know the letters drawn by the mouth is weaker than the blood drawn by the blade and that the arrogance shadowed by castle walls compare not to the arrows creating an eclipse; omen of downfall! Doubt will be subject to be purged by each and every man who surged to the beckoning of my speech, inspiring for us and unsettling for them! I would rather speak a limerick with each parry in combat then rhyme and tarry on the podium, preaching of false unity! Brethren, Knights of the Teutonic Order, it is our time to ride the crest of our superiority compared to all in this land of Oren, we shall not fail in our endeavors!