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[JRPomazon]

1 year, 8 months and 14 days previous

The sands of the desert near the former city of Plentrich danced in the wind as the two warriors faced each other. The sun was blotted out by the incoming storm, the air was stale and thick with the anticipation of blood lust in this lifeless place. A band of the newly formed Koridai army behind him, the warrior in light armor drew an impressive saber of an intense crimson, shattering the sheath that was holding it just by letting the edge graze the protective piece. This was the 4th scabbard he wrecked.

"Defying the goddess is to defy nature! To defy the world! I'll crush you and cast you out, you will no longer serve as an obstacle to our future!"

The man he faced wore a cloak over his body, proper attire for the desert climate he had wandered into. He moved his hand up to a broach that held the fabric over his shoulders and detached it. The winds picked up the cloak and moved it off him, revealing worn and beaten green chest plate. From his sling, he drew his spear and readied himself for another battle.

---

Solomon woke up from his sleep, the first bit of rest he was able to get since his return from the cursed lands. His pale green eyes stared at the ceiling for a minute or two as he asked himself whay he had that dream again. He slowly got up from his bed and reacquainted himself with his chambers. He rarely spent any time here that it never really felt like it was his. It was a simple place, fresh linens left by the maidens who tended to the cleaning and one large window that overlooked the Koridian world. He had returned to the Arbiter's grounds, the center of Koridai. He placed his clothes back on and took his sword, feeling strong enough to continue his day.

As he left his chambers and walked down the hallways, he noticed the murmuring of voices in a chamber further down. Since inquisition was his job, it was obvious he would follow the noises. He moved quietly, not intentionally but from force of habit. Years of making sure you kept silent to stay alive kicking in. He approached the room, staying outside as he listened in.

"AGAIN! AGAIN Lord Solomon takes off without a moment's notice! And into the cursed lands no less! It's a miracle that he is still alive!"

Fellow inquisitors, his colleagues. It was Marcoh, ranting again. It was getting to a point where his gray hair was beginning to turn darker with his sweat. The fat bastard always worked himself into a frenzy, it's a miracle he survived the cataclysm.

"He still thinks he can play raider while there are investigations to look into. His personal inquiries and those blasted bloodhounds of his and their secret missions cost so many of our resources as it is and for what? So he can chase after some ghost of the alliance!? The sooner he gets himself killed the better!"

Marcoh was getting annoying.

"Now Lord Marcoh, don't say such things. He is a fellow Koridain. The goddess sees much potential in him as leader of the inquisition."

Sounded like Serge, Marcoh's better half.

"Even still, he has no right to lead the inquisition forces of the Empire! It is too much power from some desert rat!"

Suddenly, a hand grasped the back of Lord Marcoh's neck, wringing his chubby neck with killing force. He turned his head slightly to see that Solomon was already awake.

"L-Lord Solomon . . ."

"You have something to say Marcoh, then say it in my presence. But I can't guarantee that your obvious lack of trust in my superior leadership will get you too far."

Oh how it would be nice to finally slaughter this pig. Put an apple in his greasy mouth just for kicks. But not now, he just got back. Solomon released Marcoh, panting and sweating even more. It was revolting to see a Koridain like this. A knight in red armor arrived, one of Solomon's bloodhounds.

"M'Lord, we have returned from our mission."

Solomon nodded and began to follow his soldier. He turned back to his colleages, a devilish smile on his face.

"Take care Marcoh and remember what I said. It would be a shame if stupidity was your cause of death."

The portly man remained silent, terrified and defeated.

Edited by JRPomazon, 20 November 2009 - 01:19 AM.

[SL the Pyro]

This was not a good week for Shadow, not at all.

He failed a mission. That hadn't happened in Diel... Chikara? Whatever-god-that-governs-this-world only knows how long.

He lost four men. This was also seldom seen from Shadow's missions; he never, ever came back with less men than he left with unless the unexpected happened.

Chikara herself was steamed; no sooner had he mentioned the name "Ahrem" to her that she kicked him out of her throne room. He never found out what the big deal was.

And now, to top it off, he had to fill out this goddamned paperwork. Piles of meaningless paperwork that came with working as the general of an army.

Shadow threw his hat -- a new one, his old one had been melted by Juvenel -- at his office door in a fit of rage. The stress ball he'd been squeezing since he woke up at 7 AM this morning helped not at all; he was surprised it hadn't popped. He was finally finishing the last of the official mission statements and casualty reports, thus ending -- or temporarily barring the flow of -- the endless stream of paperwork he always finds at his doorstep. He hated having to fill these things out... something about the tediousness and repetitiveness of writing things down over and over again enraged him the more he did it. So much so that he hung a "Do Not Disturb" sign on his to door to his quarters after he accidentally released that rage on a hapless messenger. The unfortunate target suffered second degree burns to the whole of his upper body as a result. Fortunately, that tragedy was never repeated... though Shadow can't figure out how, since these morons bother him on a regular basis.

Like right now, when a heavy knocking sounded on his door. Out of reflex, he let out a yell as a fireball left his hand and impacted the door, blowing it straight off it's hinges. "WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT DISTURBING ME WHILE I'M DOING MY PAPERWORK!?" Shadow roared at the visitor.

Luckily, that visitor had the foresight not to be standing in front of the door when it was blown away, peeking around the left side of the doorframe. Nonetheless, he was horribly shaken. "S-s... s-s-sorry, sir! I-I was just sent to... r-remind you that you're... sh-sh-shipping out for the third continent in forty-eight hours!"

Ugh, yes... that thing... an envoy was being sent to the third continent to negotiate, and perhaps recruit, the natives into the Empire. Shadow, having had previous experience on Komitaa, was being charged with escorting the diplomats and negotiators. And he wasn't looking forward to it. The last time he was there, he was kidnapped by the not-so-friendly natives. Luckily he still had a couple of days to prepare for this visit. "Who's been chosen to lead the mission?" Shadow asked the messenger, trying desperately to wind himself down as he finished scribbling on the last sheet of paper.

"I-I assumed it was you..." the messenger said.

"I'm the negotiator, I can't be the one running the show." At least, that was his understanding of it. Negotiators weren't usually people of such high military ranking, they usually had to be protected and escorted by other military forces. For Shadow, that meant stepping down from his rank for the duration of the trip. Irritating, but he didn't have a choice.

"O-oh... I see. I'll see if I can find out for you." The messenger than picked up the door and set it back where it was, at least making it look like it was closed, before scuttling off. Shadow would have to fix that now...

"Ugh..." Shadow groaned before slumping back into his comfortable swivel chair and giving his hand, which he was sure was developing a cramp, and his head a quick rest. It's times like this when he wonders why he didn't just become a mercenary or something instead of outright joining the Empire of Koridai... and then he reminds himself that it's to get closer to Chikara. That woman, her and her sister, whose rivalry destroyed everything and everyone he held dear. How does one kill a bloody Goddess who has no life to destroy in the first place? Until Shadow could figure that out, he couldn't exact any kind of revenge on the poser. And until then, he would have to bare with acting out her will.

It's going to be a long week...

Edited by SL the Pyro, 07 December 2009 - 08:59 AM.

[JRPomazon]

"We checked into some of the names that might be connected to the Whirlwind Spear. According to what we were able to look up, the master Argus of the Whirlwind Spear had passed away more than a decade since the fall of the Alliance and the man Weizel Grande had been murdered only a few months before the cataclysm. He was a high ranking officer as Law Enforcement Supervisor. It was reported he went insane before he was killed."

The masked soldier was making his report

"Murder doesn't fit Jordan's personality and giving him the blame doesn't do much to help demonize him either." Solomon said.

"As for the informant Verde, he died during the Cataclysm as the oceans of Hatena boiled him alive along with others trying to flee. He was Grande's predecessor in the Alliance and had retired from his post before he died. All three of these men had worked together numerous times during the old Alliance, serving their false justice." The soldier continued.

That was three names off the list. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

"I want to hear exactly what you found in the fallen Capital."

Solomon and his loyal soldier walked down the hallways of the Arbiter's Ground, a circular structure that was the capital structure of all the empire, the fortress that held the goddess (whenever she wanted to be there of course). Polished stone, new painting gracing the hallways and corridors and other niceties. Nothing too extravagant and gaudy, a reasonable sense of taste. It suited the goddess, therefore it suited Solomon. The two of them finally entered a balcony that faced the city below the grounds, which was also growing almost by the day. It was a time of prosperity and the goddess Chikara was to thank. The morning sun was shining down on the buildings below.

"Six men were sent to investigate the former capital of the old Alliance, where we did encounter the men in gray cloaks like you predicted. It seemed that they found something of importance at the ruins of the temple of Diel. We engaged them in combat, losing four of our forces while killing one. Whatever it was they wanted, they regretfully got away with it."

Solomon punched his subordinate, sending the masked man in red armor to the ground and shaking the balcony.

"DID YOU GET A LOOK AT WHAT THEY HAD?" Solomon asked, tensed at the news of yet another failed mission. The soldier got to his feet.

"M'Lord, it was a tome."

A tome? Religious text of Diel or perhaps some historic text? If two men went out of their way into the cursed lands to find it then surely it must have been important.

"The casualty we managed to cause, did you bring back the body?" Solomon asked.

"M'Lord, he cast a terrible magic that killed two of us and sent me and the other survivor flying. His body was too far gone to analyze. We did however manage to bring back some of his affects."

The soldier presented a tattered gray cloak and a broken short sword.

"You are dismissed. Bring the affects to my chambers immediately."

The soldier nodded and took his leave.

This wasn't the first time he had dealt with men in gray cloaks looking into the vaults of the past or what not and causing trouble for the empire. They were acting like a disobedient child, making mischief at any given chance. But as all children do, they grow up and mature. This group of heretics would not be given such a chance. They flew into the world on dark wings, casting a shadow over the bright future of Koridai. Like crows.

"Lord Solomon?"

A new lackey, not one of his bloodhounds. Skinny fellow, another miraculous survivor of the cataclysm. He was wearing a standard Koridain uniform.

"Lord Solomon, the plans for the voyage to Komitaa is on schedule. The envoys have been briefed and we will be ready to sail in a few days. Here is the list of names you wanted, along with the other information."

Another obligatory duty, making sure these stupid political moves went as planned. Although the conversion of heathens was never a bad thing, the rest was all so . . . boring. Solomon took the parchment.

"Understood." Solomon replied, dismissing the messenger. His thoughts began to shift back to the men in gray as he skimmed through the boring text. They're motivations for treasure hunting and sabotage was yet to be deciphered. He would need to bring one back or to hunt them personally. The ladder seemed more amusing to- well, this was interesting. Among the envoys, there on the top of the list was none other than the general Shadow. Solomon smiled deviously, maybe another vacation wouldn't hurt after all, especially since he would be the one in charge this time.

[SL the Pyro]

Having finally filed the last of the days paperwork and put in an order for replacement door hinges, Shadow finally had some time to himself. His office, when undisturbed, was a nice place for him to relax. It was a quaint space; a window on the left side of the room, wardrobe and filing cabinet on the right, the latter of which was piled with various books. The back wall was decked out with his pride and joy, a myriad of powerful and somewhat bizarre weapons he'd collected from tombs and ruins whenever he didn't have prior Koridian engagements, suspended decoratively on sturdy hooks. There was a large staff that transformed into a massive sword, a scythe that split into four scythes like a claw, an oversized shruiken that could flip its blades into a single sword... three of the strangest he'd found out of the ten that were hung up. Shadow never wielded them himself however, they didn't fit his style... he preferred to collect such relics.

But in one of the books about ancient weapons he was reading right now, a weapon he might considering wielding caught his eye. Or more specifically the name, since unlike most weapons in the book, this one had no artist's rendering. "Ragnarok." If Shadow recalled correctly, the term "Ragnarok" referred to "when the Gods sleep." But the description took it a step further; it read, in these exact words, "A weapon that even the Gods are powerless to stop."

Now Shadow was interested.

Unfortunately, whether it be due to the weapon not existing or the ruins they're supposed to be located in, some of the ancient weaponry he's searched for turned out to be nothing but myth. And this just seemed to good to be true, especially since there wasn't much description on the weapon in the texts. But when faced with as powerful a foe as Chikara, there was no room for early dismissals; Shadow made a decision to find out more about this "Ragnarok."

Of course... he couldn't do anything about it right now, because he had to get ready to go to Komitaa... if that poser Goddess wasn't the death of him, those natives probably would be. Who knows, maybe he'll get lucky and they'll be as fierce as before, thus negotation will be impossible and he can come straight back home.

He didn't have high hopes for that possibility, though...

[JRPomazon]

Solomon sat in a small wooden chair in his chambers, reading reports of internal affairs in the Empire as he occasionally gazed at the ruin affects of the gray cloaked man that died killing his bloodhounds. It would be a nuisance to retrain 4 new recruits, removing fear from their minds and souls was not an easy task. The senior members would take care of it for him, that would resolve that little nuisance. But the disgrace of having your own men killed by these heretics, these . . . insects . . .

Solomon dropped his papers and grasped his head with his hands, his fingers digging firmly on top of his scalp. The sensation of emptiness, worthlessness . . . he hated himself, he hated everything. How dare his men die on him? How dare he fail to train them better. He began to shake, his mind feeling like it was about to unravel under the stress of his failures. In a burst of rage, he grabbed for his sword and began to attack the wall of his chambers. The nice stone furnishing was scarred and battered as he chipped the wall away with every swing.

Get rid of it.

Get rid of it.

Get rid of the fear. . .

The weakness. . .

GET RID OF IT!

Eventually, he began to tire himself out, sticking his sword into the floor as he backed away from the fruits of his wrath. Breathing heavily, he looked up at the wall as control was reclaimed. He was going to kill those bastard heretics for defying the goddess, just like how he was going to kill Jordan of the Whirlwind Spear. The mental list of names popped into his head, those connected to Jordan and who might be able to provide clues to his whereabouts. The general was going to be a part of the envoy leaving to spread the message of Koridai. He picked up the parchement he dropped earlier and scanned through the names. No one of interest aside from the gener- and what was this?

"Lord Marcoh has been assigned to go?"

That blundering idiot will ruin everything. He will take Marcoh's place on the voyage instead and keep an eye on the general personally. Him and that interesting trinket he possessed. The voyage would not be for another two days, plenty of time to "convince" Marcoh to stay behind and look into the affairs of General Shadow, current and previous.

[SL the Pyro]

One day later... (A time skip seemed fitting.)


The black sword found its way to the throat of one of his own armored soldiers... not piercing it, but close enough to make him stop moving, his weapon held hopelessly in the air.

"You need to swing that spear faster. You can't always rely on your armor to repel attacks, eventually someone will figure out to strike in between its gaps."

It was a strange situation for Shadow. His prowess on the battlefield was famous in Koridai and notorious in Calatia; no one doubted his ability to fell even the strongest opponents. He hadn't counted on having to use those skills to instruct others, however.

Indeed, the four surviving soldiers from his previous mission had literally appeared at his office doorstep and asked him for training, someone to practice their skills against. It was a surprise to the general, but he had accepted the request nonetheless. After all, if he was going to be working with these men, he had to know they could handle themselves well. They could fight well as a team, the Cursed Lands mission had proven that, but they wouldn't always be together. It was that enforced solitude that got four of them killed.

They had been practicing since this morning, and Shadow hadn't went easy on his recruits. Two of them were sticking with their heavy black armor, which had many visible scratches and dents on it, but a couple of them went for a more speedy approach to combat, wearing lighter armor -- but not going completely without it like Shadow prefers -- so they could attack and evade more easily. He liked this decision, it was good to have a flexible team rather than a bunch of clunky armor-freaks.

"Again!" Shadow shouted, and his armored grunt came at him. He swung the spear horizontally; Shadow hopped over it, then tried bringing his foot down on the helmet -- he could kick damn hard. But to his surprise, his foot connected with the ground instead. The soldier had the mind to step backward in mid-swing, making a counter-attack more difficult depending on the foes speed and composure. Shadow had plenty of both and brought his sword forward. But then the knight surprised him for a second time, side-stepping and actually grabbing his sword with his metal-encased hand. Shadow then suffered a painful knee to the stomach, sending him reeling backward. He wasn't fighting at full strength, he was playing the part of a decently-skilled fighter, but the soldier's manuver was still impressive enough to earn the applause of his three counterparts. This one has potential.

They all have potential, Shadow told himself. It would be a long process, no doubt, but he was already seeing flickers of improvement in his four men. They were practicing fighting styles that they seemed to be most accustomed to; one armored soldier with a spear, one with an axe, a leather-armored man with a big broadsword and even a man with a bow and sai. With some instruction, they could very easily become great fighters.

"General!" A new voice; a messenger, the same one from a day ago if he recalled, had come running out into the courtyard. "Our spies in Calatia have brought news!"

Shadow retrieved his sword and put it back in its scabbard. "What's the word?"

"They say that Calatia is preparing a fleet of ships to go out to sea! To Komitaa!"

"WHAT!?" the general roared. "Did you figure out why?"

"No, not as such... but I'm not sure if it matters! They're going to get in the way of the negotiations for sure!"

Blast it all to hell, the man was right! "Damn! Have you informed Lord Solomon?"

"I was just on my way."

"Then tell him to rush our own fleet preparations while you're at it! I want those ships ready ASAP!"

"Yes, sir!" And he scurried off.

Damn, damn, damn... Shadow's mind theorized about why the hell Calatia would be going all the way to Komitaa, and he could only think of two possible three possible reasons:

1) Raiding.
2) Sabotage, provided Calatia knew Koridai was going to Komitaa.
3) Negotiation.

He desperately hope it wasn't number two, as that would imply a spy. But in any of the three scenarios, one thing was for certain: it was going to give Koridai a big pain in the ass. They were on the clock now. "Training is over for today. We'll have to continue this when I return from Komitaa. You are dismissed."

"Sir!" They then took their leave as well.

Ugh, there would be enough problems just getting the natives to listen to his pleas. Calatia was going to make things a lot more complicated than they needed to be...

Edited by SL the Pyro, 30 November 2009 - 01:05 PM.

[JRPomazon]

Solomon was in his chambers, slowly examining the shattered blade and tattered robe. There was more to these things than it appeared, he felt it in his gut. Not many could compete with his men, and yet four of them were killed in action by the heretics in gray. It wasn't impossible for them to be trained as well, but no one in Calatia save for Selena herself could train men these good. Was it possible for them to be connected to Snowpeak? Then why the cloaks? Why not show the viking colors? No, they must stand apart from the Kingdom. Even viking black-ops made more appearances than these folk.

An odd glimmer of light caught Solomon's eye, an unnatural reflection. He looked closer at the shattered blade, using a magnification tool. They appeared to be some sort of markings, following up and down the dull part of the blade. How did he not notice these markings sooner?

"Lord Solomon!" Cried out a voice from the chamber entrance. Solomon rose from his seat, trying to desperately hold back the frustration of being interrupted.

"YES?" He called out, tension seeping into his vocal infliction.

"Our spies have reported back from Calatia! They set sail for Komitaa!"

There was silence for a moment.

"Thank you for the report. You are dismissed." Solomon replied.

The messenger left in a hurry, not bothering to bow his head in respect. No matter, that wasn't important now. He had sent word for a ship to readied days ago and a caravan prepared to take them to the shores hastily. As his plans began to take effect like clockwork, men in red armor marched into his chambers, their faces covered in scars and their eyes with a cold gaze. Even without their helms, the men of Solomon's Bloodhounds wore no emotion.

"M'Lord, we are all set to leave. All that remains is to gather the envoys. The diplomats and envoys are all accounted for. All save for Lord Marcoh. Lord Serge and General Shadow."

"Find them immediately, especially my contemporaries. I wish to share worlds with the two of them."

They nodded and walked out, focused on their orders.

"Also, gather historians and interpreters. They'll have work to do while I am away."

They nodded again, the group of soldiers split off in different directions. To follow their orders effectively regardless of circumstance was what they were trained to do. They would kill a child in cold blood if Solomon or the goddess Chikara willed it.

Elsewhere, the bloodhounds located Shadow preparing for the trip as quickly as he could.

"General, by order of Lord Solomon of the Inquisition we have been ordered to take you to the prepared caravan as soon as humanly possible."

Edited by JRPomazon, 30 November 2009 - 02:29 PM.

[SL the Pyro]

While his men were going back to their usual duties and the messenger was breaking the news to Lord Solomon -- which had been done judging from the yell he was sure could be heard throughout the whole damn tower -- Shadow was packing the usual necessities for an overseas boat trip and negotiation, in small amounts of course. Translation parchments, personal foodstuffs, some spare gold in case he needed it, and... ugh... ginger pills, for staving off seasickness. With any luck he wouldn't need them, but it had been quite a while since he was out at sea.

"General, by order of Lord Solomon of the Inquisition we have been ordered to take you to the prepared caravan as soon as humanly possible."

Ah, Lord Solomon's Bloodhounds. Always so formal... he wondered how much discipline had been beaten into them. Shadow for one didn't really care for blatant royal formalities. "That's fine, I'm done packing." Count on Solomon to be prepared for the worst... if only he'd been blessed with such competent companions when he was working for the Lost Woods. Bunch of crazies... taking his thoughts off of the past, Shadow tossed his ginger pills into a large hammersack and hefted it over his shoulder, before turning to face the red-clad soldiers. "Lead the way, if you please."

[JRPomazon]

Everything proceeded according to plan, the caravan had been fully supplied for ten minutes now, the soldiers assigned to detail had been prepped and were ready for departure (among them were some of Solomon's personal band) and the livestock that would be pulling the men of the goddess to shore had been fed. This only left the issue of the General's appearance and the issue with Marcoh.

Solomon had just finished placing his normal light armor for the journey. The sword Solomon so savagely used in battle was wrapped in an old cloth provided by a hand maiden, prefering to rip out his weapon rather than break countless sheaths. His armor was light, focusing more on maneuverability rather than protection. Spaulders were placed on his shoulders while his forearms were protected by steel bracers. His cuirass was custom made, rather than chain mail and suits of armor that his men wore, he prefered the style the counterpart. A deep crimson covered each piece of armor, a popular rumor that the metal was colored from all the blood shed on it. A burgundy cape was draped over his shoulders and around his neck, to add a sense of regal air to his attire to come off as someone who is not here for war but is not afraid to fight. To impress. To intimidate.

He headed out from his quarters, his cape lofting in the air he created as he moved, he noticed the footsteps echoing behind him. He turned to find Marcoh, sweating as he made haste to the caravan that was prepared for the journey he didn't know he wasn't going to take. He was escorted by Bloodhounds.

"Lord Marcoh! A beautiful day for an mission into foreign lands!" Solomon proclaimed in an almost regal manner.

"Lord Solomon? Why do you dawn such dreadful armor? Are you marching off to war?"

"Perhaps Marcoh, perhaps. You see, I am relieving you of your duty as an diplomat on the journey to Komitaa. You're services are better suited here in the heart of the empire."

With a pike up his ass and through his mouth.

"My, this is preposterous! Lord Solomon, I mean no disrespect but I believe I am far more qualified to discuss diplomacy than-"

A sword was placed near the giblets of fat that was his neck.

"I believe you misunderstand your position Marcoh. I will be leaving and you will be staying. Unless the goddess were to order me to stay behind, there will be nothing keeping from the caravan I planned days in advance to ships that have been ready to sail since yesterday. What did you do Marcoh to plan?"

The inquisitor remained silent, Solomon the victor of words.

"Give the other inquisitor lords my regards while I am away."

Solomon turned around and walked away, his bloodhounds leaving Marcoh's presence. As they traveled the grand hallways of the Arbiter's Ground, the sun was reaching it's zenith.

Minutes later, Solomon and his men arrived at the designated point to leave for the shores.

"We leave now. Tell the others." He told his men, who split off effectively to spread the word. Solomon found a horse ready for him, a black stallion. Rather than ride with the envoys and diplomats, he chose to ride apart. He noticed another had chosen to ride apart as well. As the General mounted his horse, it was to be expected.

"We meet again general." He said to Shadow.

Edited by JRPomazon, 01 December 2009 - 01:07 AM.

[SL the Pyro]

As Solomon's Bloodhounds escorted Shadow to the rendezvous point, he noticed one thing about them; they weren't very sociable. Were they really just mindless drones to do Solomon's handiwork? If that were so, then he was sure working with them wasn't going to be a pleasant experience. But he would endure, he always did. He mounted his own black stallion, Silvermane -- it was already named when he got it, its previous owner apparently lacked imagination -- and followed the Bloodhounds to the shores...

But not before he felt a familiar aura catching up to him. Solomon's bloodthirsty presence wasn't one he easily forgot. He rode up next to Shadow with his own horse. "We meet again general." he greeted. Shadow was just a little surprised to see Solomon here. It was his unit that was to be escorting him around Komitaa, but from what he had been told, Lord Marcoh was the overseer. Not that he liked the fat lard, in fact he was sure he was disliked by most people in Koridai, but Solomon's presence didn't fit. Surely he had more pressing matters to attend to than seeing his men off.

Indeed, he had already deduced why the Bloodhound commander and inquisitioner was here. "Lord Solomon." Shadow returned the greeting. "I take it you replaced Lord Marcoh on this expedition..." His face cracked into a sinister smile. "Good. I never liked him... but may I ask why?"

Edited by SL the Pyro, 01 December 2009 - 08:48 AM.

[JRPomazon]

"It was pity, but it seems Lord Marcoh had acquired an illness during his work and was unable to join us. It was fortunate that I was here to take his place."

A horn was blown from the front of the back of the caravan, signaling the end of preparation and the beginning of departure. Slowly, the wagons began moving one by one, the carriage holding the diplomats beginning to move slowly past Solomon and Shadow. Moving the reigns, Solomon motioned to his horse to follow in great swiftness. The pace for the journey would be a fast one, they had to arrive at the shore as soon as possible. The trip would normally take a two days, they would make by tomorrow morning.

[SL the Pyro]

"Hah, it's just as well. He'd only slow us all down." Shadow snickered, following Solomon before suffering one of his usual mood-swings. "Of course, we wouldn't have to rush if Calatia didn't throw a monkey wrench into things... they'll have to be dealt with sometime during this mission, you know."

[JRPomazon]

"If we happen to run into any representatives of the Kingdom, it's obvious that we purge them in a way that would be discreet and low key." Solomon replied.

In the first half hour of the journey, the caravan was moving at full speed, dust being kicked up into enormous clouds on the plains. The Arbiter's Ground was far from sight by then, along with the rest of the capital. They were making good time, but eventually the inevitable time to pause would be upon them soon. Between Solomon and Shadow, there was little conversation. As Solomon looked over to the carriage for the diplomats, he saw them from the window, gossiping and bragging like spoiled daughters. A pathetic sight, that the people of the goddess be so frivolous in times of urgency. Perhaps after the two years of her governing Koridai they had become soft.

His horse was panting harder than before, the beast was reaching it's limit. Regrettably, it was time to slow down for everyone.

"Sound the horn! We are stopping the caravan!" Solomon shouted to one of the on guard soliders, who motioned to his comrades to follow the order. As the caravan slowed down, the dust they kicked up from behind halted with them as it slowly sank back to the earth.

"Might as well take care of the beasts." He said to Shadow, dismounting from his horse.

Edited by JRPomazon, 01 December 2009 - 11:17 AM.

[SL the Pyro]

(OOC: I changed Shadow's objective from "being a negotiator" to "escorting the negotiators." While being sneaky and manipulative is in his character. I can't negotiate my way out of a paper bag.)

Shadow was noticing his own steed beginning to tire as well. This was hardly the time to take a break when they desperately needed to beat Calatia to the shores of Komitaa, but not everyone in the army -- man or beast -- was as physically fit as he and Solomon. There is nothing worse in an army than the danger of fatigue; the soldiers would hardly be of any help if they were exhausted before the inevitable confrontations begun.

"Might as well take care of the beasts."

Nodding silently in agreement, Shadow hopped off of his horse and proceeded to take a couple of carrots out of the saddle-side storage pouch. It was strange for Shadow to be feeding his horse... it wasn't as if he didn't know how, but he never usually had to. As luck would have it, past steeds he had were clumsy and prone to self-destruction. This one seemed to be neither, and for that he was grateful.

As the black stallion graciously started chewing on a carrot, Shadow was already wondering how long this break would last. Their time was limited, but exactly how limited was a mystery. Besides, he just wanted to get this over with; he had other matters to attend to.

[JRPomazon]

Solomon proceeded to place a bag of oats over the mouth of his horse, hoping that the horse eat quickly so that they can leave as soon as possible. However, he didn't place his expectations too high. After all, it was only an animal. The diplomats were notified by now that the caravan had stopped and would resume momentarily, many of the riders stretching their legs while they had the chance to. Solomon's attention shifted back to his horse, who to his surprise ate all of the food it was offered.

"Very good." He said, a satisfied smirk popping on his face as he put away the empty bag. He reached for a gourd of water that he kept and drank from it, the time to leave would be soon. He pulled a soldier away from his business, flagging him down with a motion of his hand.

"Tell the rest of the caravan we leave immediately. Stragglers will be left behind."

"Understood sir." The soldier replied, rushing off to tell the other guards and soldiers as quickly as possible. Solomon remounted his horse, Shadow mounting his after overhearing Solomon's order. Soon after, the horn was blown again and the caravan began to move out. The dust behind them was flown back, creating a cloud as they traveled throughout the plain.

-----------------------------------

From a ledge far from where the caravan made it's stop, two onlookers in gray cloaks watched the events unfold. Their faces covered by their hoods, hiding their identity. Holding a spy glass was a woman, her build slender but not too petite. The other a man, appearing absentminded and not paying attention.

"Looks like they are on the move again." She said.

"So it seems." replied her companion.

She looked back at him.

"And how would you know? You've just been playing with that grass ever since we got here!"

"I heard the carts move off and the horses made loud noises. Don't need to look all the time to know what's going on."

He had a point, as infuriating as it was for her to admit.

"Jeez Willis, you really know how to tick me off." She replied, closing the spyglass.

"My apologies Leona." He said, putting down the grass that had occupied his attention.

"You really got to stop being so uptight all the time, take it slow for a change."

The two looked on as the caravan was leaving their sight.

"They're heading to Komitaa, we'll have get there before they do if we want this to go on without a hitch." Leona said as she began to head off. Willis followed after her.

"This job is going to be a doozy." He said, stretching his arms back and resting his hands behind his head.

Edited by JRPomazon, 07 December 2009 - 11:23 AM.

[SL the Pyro]

Shadow had lost track of how long the caravan had been travelling. He was tempted to start complaining "Are we there yet?" to Solomon just for the sake of alleviating some boredom.

But alas, it appeared he wouldn't need to suffer for much longer. As they rode up a ridge, the sea was becoming visible. The port must be nearby. Further up, and the silhouettes of large boats could be made out.

"It's about bloody time. I'm starting to get saddle sores." He didn't seem to have a problem complaining about that...

[JRPomazon]

After half a day of travel, the caravan had reached the port. The sun was beginning to set on the day, which had taken many surprising turns. For starters, this trip should have taken two days to make. Solomon had pushed everyone well past their limits, as shown by the collapsing horses and oxen that pulled the caravan across the plains to the sea. Thankfully, their were no human casualties from the affair. Solomon, although still rushing, managed to claim the attention of diplomats and soldiers alike.

"Soldiers and Riders of Koridai! Praise be to the goddess, who has made it possible for us to make such a trek in such as hort time!"

He lead the group in praise, their cheers resounding throughout the port. Although it was the work of the men who made this possible, Solomon could not accept that something as flawed as a human being could manage a feat like this alone. And so, Chikara was praised all the same. Shortly after the religious obligations were finished, the diplomats were rushed aboard the ship that was waiting for them, a smaller vessel that was made for speed. It had been stocked prior to their arrival, so all that remained was the passengers. The diplomats and envoys were first, followed by the Bloodhound special guard and then normal military personal. Finally, Solomon himself was the last to board the ship. Shortly after, the planks to the shore were removed and the anchor pulled from the water's depths. The people of the goddess began their journey to the continent of Komitaa.

Edited by JRPomazon, 07 December 2009 - 06:30 PM.

[SL the Pyro]

Though Shadow hadn't said anything, he was impressed with how quickly the trip from capital to port had went. It was good that they were making such progress, but he hoped that everyone present on the boat was accustomed to sea-travel, or they'd be more focused on being seasick than recovering their stamina. Though Shadow himself was being a hypocrite, as the moment he stepped on the ship, his balance was wobbly. Saddle sores and uneven terrain was a poor mix; if this was how he was before the ship had even set sail, he'd easily become seasick himself, and that would be really embarassing for someone of his rank. That is, if he didn't have his ginger pills. He quickly swallowed one and all was calm in his stomach in a few minutes.

The ship was now in full-sail towards Komitaa. Now, for the ones simply staying on the ship and not operating it, there was nothing to be done but wait. Shadow wished the boat could be sped up; weather was unkind and unpredictable, and it would be really unfortunate if the wind started blowing the wrong way. How he wished Jordan were here...

Speaking of whom, his thoughts turned to the one pursuing him, Solomon. The two of them would have nothing to do for the majority of this trip... and if they were going to be working together, he wanted to know where he stood. He needed to get to know Solomon better, his personality, his intentions. His turning on Chikara would probably be a long, long time away, but he still needed to know how someone as devout and unknown as Solomon would factor into it. He wouldn't get a better chance to figure that out than on this boat trip.

So quickly, he tracked Solomon down and tried to start a conversation. "So, how do your Bloodhounds fare on the sea?"

[JRPomazon]

After explaining the schedule for the remainder of the trip to the envoys and diplomats, Solomon decided it was time to retire for the day. There wasn't much he could do now, everything was left in the capable hands of the crew of the ship. If they were to so much as lose their heading, those capable heads would be ripped off their arms. The ship had already begun it's voyage, the shores of the Empire moving further and further away as the sun was setting on the water. The hour of night would be upon them soon and they would find themselves surrounded by darkness on all sides.

"So, how do your Bloodhounds fare on the sea?"

"The same as they do on the ground General, ready to fulfill their duties at all costs." Solomon replied, turning over to Shadow.

"Regretfully, we won't be able to see their prowess in battle aboard this ship, it is going to be at least a week before we see land of any kind and I don't expect company. But while we have ourselves some daylight, why don't we spar a little General?"

Solomon did not draw his familiar red saber, but an imperial standard issue blade. It wasn't nearly as long as his normal choice, but it would suffice. He handed Shadow a similar sword and took several steps back from him.

"Alright now, you make the first move." He said, grinning at the idea of a little excitement.

[SL the Pyro]

A spar? Really, Shadow shouldn't be surprised; from what he knew about him, Solomon was the kind of person who lived on the battlefield. He supposed he'd entertain him -- and the possible audience of their week-long shipmates -- for a little while. Besides, he hadn't had a chance to closely analyze Solomon's fighting style before.

"Heh, why not? I need to get used to moving around on a ship again anyway." he agreed, giving the blade a little twirl before getting into a loose fighting stance.

"Alright now, you make the first move."

Solomon was grinning, and Shadow found himself doing the same; granted it was only a quick spar, but still, worthy opponents were like needles in haystacks nowadays. "Don't mind if I do." He then initiated combat, running at Solomon with his blade ready to thrust.

Edited by SL the Pyro, 08 December 2009 - 10:15 AM.

[JRPomazon]

OoC: Gonna take a little control of Shadow for a second.

Shadow's thrust was met with Solomon's blade, swung intentionally to knock the thrust away. While in the momentum of the swing, Solomon's body span along with his blade while it came down for a vertical slice. Shadow blocked the oncoming strike, the two of them leaping back from the clash to gain distance.

"Very nice. My move."

Solomon ran towards Shadow with his own lunge, which Shadow in sidestepped and attempted to make use of Solomon's blind spot. As Shadow attacked with a horizontal slash, Solomon dropped to the deck of the ship, throwing his body to the floor and avoiding the attack. He swung his leg around and tripped Shadow, quickly picking himself up attack from above. Shadow rolled back and got to his feet briskly, coming at Solomon with a vertical slash. Solomon reciprocated with a vertical slash of his own, the two blades locking into each other as the two warriors attempted to push each other back. Solomon knocked his sword up to break the clash apart and tried to attack Shadow while his sword was out of the way. However, the General sidestepped the attack and instinctively the two of them moved back to gain distance from each other.

The passengers on the ship had gathered to watch the exhibition match, the only source of decent entertainment so far on the ship.

[SL the Pyro]

Yes, it seemed Solomon was indeed a worthy opponent. He hadn't seen swordplay that good since... the memory brought out a laugh from Shadow's mouth. "You're as skilled as they say... the last time I saw such swordplay was against Khallos in the old days."

He rushed in again, the steel of his and Solomon's blades meeting in a frenzied clash. To those on the ship with untrained eyes, their swords and bodies looked like blurs except for when they blocked and deadlocked. But to those who were familiar with battle, they could see the immense skill and percision of the two Koridai elites in action, trying to divert each other's blades to make an opening but simply unable to bring their weapon in fast enough.

When the next broke apart, both warriors were virtually unhurt. Throughout the whole battle Shadow had only been tripped and Solomon had been kneed in the gut once, but that was it, and hardly decisive; their conventional methods of attack were effectively cancelling each out at the moment. "Huh. It seems that we're equal in terms of pure swordplay..."

Edited by SL the Pyro, 08 December 2009 - 10:51 AM.

[JRPomazon]

Equal?

Solomon dashed to Shadow and with a slash of his sword knocked Shadow's blade from his hands, sending it spinning the air until it struck the deck of the ship.

"Perhaps." Solomon said grinning. He walked over to the sword his knocked away and pulled it out of the glossy deck and walked over to Shadow. The murmuring in the crowd was soft, but it was obvious they were commenting on Solomon's ruthlessness and the fact that he was a sore loser.

"Thank you general, I can see why the soldiers of the empire come to you for practice. Most of the men I spar with lose a limb or two in the process so it's nice to fight with someone who has skill."

Solomon turned around and walked back to the ship's cabin, the sun was only a sliver on the horizon. When he entered the main cabin of the ship, he was greeted by one of his personal unit and walked with him to his cabin.

"M'lord, I have looked into list of passengers and crew members as you requested." The soldier said, standing straight in Solomon's presence.

"Get on with it, what did you find?"

"There is a Calatian spy present, but we are unsure as to who they might be."

"Evidence?" Solomon asked. The soldier presented several articles of clothing, a dark wool shirt with the emblem of the kingdom, a standard issue item for Calatia soldier's uniform.

"Keep quiet about this." Solomon ordered.

"Search the ship from top to bottom, make note of any suspicious people among the crew and passengers. We find him before we reach the continent, do you understand?"

Nodding in agreement, the soldier saluted Solomon and went on to inform the rest of the bloodhounds. It seemed that the voyage would be far more interesting than Solomon predicted.

[SL the Pyro]

Shadow kept silent when his sword was knocked away, merely staring at him with an amused expression; keeping such a lose grip on his weapon wasn't very wise, but he knew it was only a spar and that Solomon would be in hot water if he actually struck him down. He wasn't so lazy or stupid in a real battle scenario, this he was sure Solomon knew. But he was so vicious! Like a relentless bloodhound on the hunt for meat... that's probably what inspired the name of his unit.

"Thank you general, I can see why the soldiers of the empire come to you for practice. Most of the men I spar with lose a limb or two in the process so it's nice to fight with someone who has skill."

He stopped himself from replying with something about how Solomon was too scary and too bloodthirsty to be a proper training instructor. Solomon really needed to practice some restraint.

As the inquisition member disappeared from the deck, Shadow brushed some dust and wood splinters off of his cape and went to gaze off at the sea. He hadn't quite accomplished what he set out to do, but he did find out the defining factors about Solomon: he was devout to Chikara, a sore loser and, above all, vicious. Shadow smirked to himself; someone like him would probably wind up dying on the battlefield before he ever got to interfere in his revenge on Chikara, and if not, Shadow himself could find a way to dispose of him easily. He was strong, but not as much of a threat as he had supposed. When the time came to take on the Goddess, he was sure Solomon wouldn't be a problem.

But until then, he would serve Koridai, like it or not. He would put vengance in the back of his mind and focus on the mission at hand for now.

Edited by SL the Pyro, 08 December 2009 - 07:08 PM.

[JRPomazon]

The rest of the evening was spent in a dreary manner, after the meal was served to the passengers and crew the only thing left to do was sleep. However, Solomon did not partake of the evening meal, closing himself off in his quarters as he studied the Calatia shirt for anything that could come to some use to find the spy. He placed the evidence on a small table while he magnified the fabric with a inspection glass. By the candle light in his cabin, he managed to find something different in the threads. A human hair was located, it was a deep black that looked strained. Black hair was a clue, easier to find the spy now.

As Solomon rejoiced in his discovery, a knock was heard at the door.

"Enter." He said placing his instrument down. One of his men came through the door, saluting as they began to report in.

"M'Lord, we continue the search as you instructed. Have you located any clues that might aid us in our search?"

Solomon got from his chair and looked his soldier straight in the eye, the kind of death gaze no one would prefer to be on the end of.

"If I didn't know any better, it would sound as though my men were getting sluggish." He said, intending to get his point across.

"You know that we recently lost 4 of you in the Cursed Lands just a few days ago. Perhaps THEY were getting sluggish too. KEEP THAT IN MIND."

Solomon turned back to the shirt and remembered his discovery. He turned back to his soldier.

"A black hair was found on the shirt you offered me. Keep your eyes peeled for a man with dark hair who can handle the cold unusually well. Those Vikings can barely tell their senses apart as it is."

"It shall be done."

The soldier nodded in respect and dismissed himself to resume the search. Solomon looked over to his saber, which was resting on the corner of the room across from him. He began to think about the sparring match he had earlier, which lead to memories from a couple years ago. Memories of him. That's right, he was with the Fortress for some time during the old order. He clasped his neck, the phantom pain of his scar began to ache.

1 year, 8 months and 17 days previous

The Imperial Soldiers of Koridai stood by as one of their promising soldiers took it upon himself to battle an enemy of the goddess. From his previous victories, he was already being hailed a hero of the empire, a true son of Koridai. The two men, the hero and the man in green armor clashed in the desert winds, sand encircling everyone. The sun was out that day, but the sky was shrouded by clouds. The two warriors clashed back and forth, appearing evenly matched as the winds began to howl.

"I'll rip you to pieces you heathen!" The young Koridain shouted.

"I'll be known as the man who slayed the Viridian Knight!"

The Viridian Knight remained silent as his spear fended off his attackers strange blade. The sounds of metal clashing echoed over the gusts and gales, the young hero slashing harder and faster until he hit his mark.

"What's wrong!? NOTHING TO SAY!?" The young hero shouted, taunting his opponent.

The next thing he remembered was a flash of white and a dull pain in his chest. It was the reversed end of the Viridian Knight's Spear, the pole itself knocking the wind out of the ambitious warrior of Koridai.

"You always talk this much you goddamn lunatic?" He asked bluntly, turning his spear back to a proper position.

The young hero got to his feet quickly, feeling the sting of disgrace.

"I'll bleed you dry for that." He said, holding his sword out as a declaration of war.

Edited by JRPomazon, 11 December 2009 - 01:48 AM.

[SL the Pyro]

(OoC: Calatia is making landfall, so I figure we might as well, too. I just wish I knew what the plans for this were, though; it's hard to coordinate an RP with two separate threads.)

--------------------

The trip across the sea had been mostly uninteresting, save for Shadow and Solomon's spar. Some people were demanding an eventual encore, but Solomon was simply too busy and Shadow had no reason to. Solomon was critical about something during hte voyage, but he hadn't determined what.

In any case, after a day or three, the silhouette of Komitaa had become visible.

The sight of it made Shadow shiver. He recalled the last time he was here... it was on an Alliance mission when there still was an Alliance. He and his men had been captured by the natives, for what reason he never discerned. It was thanks to a daring escape plan from the former Alliance special-ops that they took over the transport ship they were thrown on and escaped. He hoped that this visit would be different.

The natives used poison weapons if memory served, both swords and arrows. Potent poison that acted fast and knocked out the unfortunate victim within seconds. The Bloodhounds were lucky they had their heavy armor, they would be fine as long as the poison didn't get into any wounds they would sustain otherwise. But as for those who didn't have such protection -- Solomon, the diplomats and even Shadow himself -- they would need to be very careful if they wound up on the wrong end of the Komitaan's blades and bolts.

A large amount of noise disturbed Shadow from his thoughts; during his dozing, they had reached the shores of the third continent. The landing procedure was beginning. Shadow got off of the railing he'd been leaning on and went to prepare for the second bout of land travel.

Edited by SL the Pyro, 13 December 2009 - 09:22 PM.

[JRPomazon]

OoC: Don't worry about the other guys S_L, just focus on this story and everything will be peachy keen. Following the guide as to what this country is like.

The ship landed in the country of Vildmark, the first local of their diplomatic crusade. The tropical landscape was a drastic change from the empire, the warm climate was far too humid for Solomon's personal preference. Regardless, he kept on his armor on. With the dense jungle, it would difficult to manage a full scale caravan. Damn, they would have to cut back on supplies. He halted the unloading and took several higher ranked soldiers aside to plan out what was to stay behind. It was a boring and uneventful process but thankfully did not cut too much time from their trip. The result was leaving some provisions behind in order to lighten the load of group.

After the meeting, one of Solomon's personal soldiers greeted him.

"Report." Solomon said, adjusting his cape in the stale humidity.

"M'Lord, we have found him."

Solomon smiled sadistically.

"Have you secured a room for the two of us to chat?"

"Yes M'Lord. He was been prepared in a manner you'd find suitable sir."

The soldier lead Solomon back onto the ship, to the quarters he had back on the ship. As the soldier opened the door for him, he discovered another one of his men and the black haired spy tied to a chair. He face was beaten and bruised, blood all over himself. Solomon entered the room and the door was closed.

"Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Solomon. I am in charge of the imperial holy inquisition."

"I know who you are you piece of-"

A strong punch was delivered by the attending bloodhound, his metal gauntlet especially painful against the spy's already broken ribs.

"Well, formalities are out of the way." Solomon said as he approached the spy and grabbed his black hair. He dragged his head up, locking his green eyes with that of his prisoner.

"You probably planned on returning back to your tundra, didn't you. That's why you hid your shirt instead of just throwing it overboard. Why would you do something like that? Some sentimental value stitched into the wool? Maybe you're just too cheap to get a new shirt. Regardless, your hubris has cost you more than you can imagine. I wonder, how many times you hid among us, a wolf hiding in a flock of sheep. It's vermin like you that I LOVE to punish. You've committed serious crimes against the people of the goddess, OH YES. And that is why under normal circumstance you would be dead right now. However, the goddess is filled with loving mercy and even a wretch like you can be spared. Just tell me everything you know to the Kingdom's diplomatic agenda and why they sent you."

There was a terrible silence between the two, the spy shaking as Solomon's eyes gazed at him like he was a meal.

"Go to hell." He muttered.

"WRONG ANSWER!" Solomon shouted, throwing the spy to the other side of the room, chair and all. He drew his saber and placed it next to his neck.

"I know you've been trained to handle matters like this, take a couple punches, get cut up a little and bleed out everywhere. Even let yourself die before you gave the enemy the information you hold. But I can kill you easily and extend the lingering pain of death almost indefinitely. I'll cut you up from your fingers and toes to arms and legs. I'll drain your blood from your body until you are nothing but a husk. And if you think I'll let you die during the process, you're solely mistaken. If your heart should give out, I'd reach into your chest and massage it till it starts beating again. I'll bring you back to kill you, over and over and over."

Solomon got close to the bound spy and grabbed his neck.

"START TALKING."

You. . . you're nothing." He said,

Solomon stabbed the spy's shoulder, causing him to shout in pain.

"General Crimson and his men are already here by now. Once the treaty is made, the Kingdom will have the entire world on its side. I only regret that I won't be around the see the end of your FALSE GODDESS, you damn zealot!"

Solomon dragged his sword down, ripping off the spy's arm in the process. Blood was splattered everywhere, too much for his sword to drain. Solomon turned around and walked out of the room, the spy shouting in agony as his looked at what was once his arm.

"Take his other arm and let him bleed to death. We're done here." he said to one of his soldier.

"Inform the crew of the ship that they will be paid generously for the clean up of the cabin as well."

The spy was taken care off, another loose end tied up. And a generous piece of information he let slip as well. Leo Crimson, a known general in the kingdom's military and another name on the list of Jordan's known allies. As Solomon left the ship, he noticed Shadow preparing for the trip. He called out to everyone, hustling along as they hurried the transports for departure.

"Attention all imperial guard, envoys and diplomats! We leave immediately for the capital city of Riddari!"

Small carriages and wagons which had been brought from Verden had been taken along for the occasion. Without another word and the sounding of a horn, the Koridain group was off.

[SL the Pyro]

A jungle? This Shadow didn't like... the natives were skilled enough on the mountains; they were likely more dangerous in a wooded area that they knew the layout of. He decided to warn Solomon of their battle style.

"I hope that armor is durable, Solomon. The natives here coat their swords and arrows with a fast-acting poison. If it gets into any wound, you'll be knocked out in a heartbeat."

[JRPomazon]

"What makes you believe I'm going to get hit General?" Solomon said, looking at the scenery around him. Thick forest everywhere he could look and anything else was the shore and ocean. This was an issue, but nothing that couldn't be resolved. The General could conjure fire in large quantities and we could easily make themselves a proper road. However, most "peaceful diplomatic journeys" don't include burning forests down in large quantities.

"FALL IN! Bloodhounds!"

Every single active member under Solomon's direct command came rushing to him, briskly making their ways through people and cargo. They arrived shortly after, in formation no less.

"Formation: Deus Ex Machina."

Without another word, they drew their swords and charged into the jungle. Soon after, the trees encroaching on open pathway were dropping on after another. The men of the bloodhound unit were creating a new path to travel with minimal damage done to the environment. The guards and envoys looked on in amazement as the work was done.

"Alright, saddle up. We leave for their capital."

Edited by JRPomazon, 14 December 2009 - 11:39 PM.

[SL the Pyro]

"What makes you believe I'm going to get hit General?"

"Oh, nothing. Just giving you a friendly pointer." God, the ego on this man... at least Shadow had learned modesty over the last two years.

At least his unit seemed to have faith in him... like a well-oiled machine -- perhaps Solomon's inspiration for the formation name -- his Bloodhounds cleared out the sections of trees that directly impeded the caravan's path.

"...Impressive." Well, not really, it was capable of being done by any well-trained unit. He was just humoring Solomon.

"Alright, saddle up. We leave for their capital."

Shadow wordlessly obeyed, mounting his horse. The woods would make their fastest speed a slow trot, in which case Shadow should just be walking, but as long as his steed was here...