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[Chikara Nadir]

ooc: Anyone from Koridai can feel free to join in, but we're going to try to make it as quick as possible then return to Future of an Empire right afterward (so please no posting in both threads at once!). Just an afternoon stroll to a battlefield! And since it's now 6am, let me know if I said anything that makes absolutely no sense at all...whenever I wake up. Weeee.

Dawn seemed to come a little earlier that day, the sun's radiant beams jumping gleefully from behind silver clouds with their own celestial agenda, warm and ready for around the next fourteen hours to revolve around them. For the mortals below, however, this harkened the beginning of a sweltering day on the edge of the desert, and for that matter put into question whether the great goddess herself had requested the very sun to come sooner so that her men might march out as quickly as possible.

The men were dressed in their finest armor, gleaming breastplates and shields of gold alongside rank patches and banners of scarlet with the Empire's emblem as a warning to all ahead. First were the cavalry, scouts in the forefront a half mile ahead to wave messages with mirrors and flags as need be. Some smiths in the city had spent half the night readying saddles and spears for the men who had none of their own, as so many new riders had been chosen from ordinary men over the last couple years since the last great war. All, at least, had some form of sword already and were trained decently enough in using them, as was also the case for the infantry walking just behind them. Archers were guarded in lines and patches throughout, fresh feathers on the shafts of their stock of arrows. Whether they were painted red or just unwashed from the blood of freshly-plucked chickens, only the heat of the day would show.

Much like the night before in her dining chambers when Koridai's officials had so recently planted their share of the seeds of war with the Alliance, Chikara herself wore far less than her soldiers - and knew no one would dare to question it except the haughty clerics she had left far behind in the city. The battlefield would be no place to wear ceremonial robes, nor did a god have much use in bulky protective armor. The woman's fine cotton shirt was airy and loose, simple unbleached white from neck hip with tawny pants and boots below. Her elbows and knees were padded, a habit from centuries of enjoying rough play in the battlefield and when sparring at home. The usual assembly of weapons hung low on the thick belt around her waist, her sword, whip, and that random magical spork all ready to cut into human flesh, as also was expected of the freshly sharpened dagger against her thigh. Perhaps not as well carved as the one she'd 'borrowed' from her despicable daughter, but it didn't need to be pretty to stab well. The only part of her kept confined and bound was the mess of red hair she had in leather strings braided behind her head, no crown or other adornment visible to distinguish her to an adversary or even to any of her men who were naive enough not to recognize who she was.

She made earnest attempts all morning to keep conversation with the ordinary soldiers she insisted on walking beside, keeping up morale with witty old war stories and Q and A on weapon techniques that some of the greener young soldiers dared to ask about. A couple of them hung especially close, pink-cheeked in admiration. Yet for the most part the others had the good sense to not look her in the eyes and risk going insane, not be smitten by a woman eons older than them and with a history that included murdering off their forefathers, and especially not risk saying the wrong thing in front of their national leader- and an almighty god. And despite her best efforts, she constantly found herself separated from the majority of the foot soldiers by a rather intimidating force: her own Praetorian, riding high on ebony black horses to guard her even in the midst of a grand army, her personal soldiers above all else.

The modest goddess had no trouble searching for Steel as the day began to wear on; he tended to ride closer than any and had all the regalia expected of one of the greatest leaders of the Empire. When she wished to get a better perspective of their surroundings, Chikara simply strode over behind him to a second riderless horse roped to his own and saddled herself up. This much she did now as distant hills rose ahead of them, the petite leader relaxing her feet into the stirrups and leaning forward to pat the muscular neck of the beast beneath her.

Their fastest riders had been sent out ahead of them at daybreak in several directions with orders on which landmarks to find and report back on, and easily should have begun to arrive within the hour. Like the rest of the army, Chik's anxiousness at their return was growing visible. "We need to be ready for the worst when they return. If we are lucky, all our soldiers will come back with news that no Alliance soldiers were within their sights, and then we shall rest easy that the enemy has made little progress since our last reports. Otherwise, we will at best receive news back of the number to expect…and at worst expect no news at all." This, obviously, would only happen if all of those riders had been captured or killed. The longer they waited with no word back, the more she expected this to be their only reality.

"I am more than appreciative for your enduring protection of me, Lord Steel," the lady spoke quietly, trying to keep their conversation as private as it could considering the circumstances. "Everyone should be ready for a little bit of madness when I push the mass of our army through space itself to the doorstep of our enemy's encampment to surprise them, and your help will obviously be instrumental in keeping the order. However, I hope you're fully aware that when we get into the thick of things I will be releasing a bit of the hold I have on my powers. Rest assured that I will have full control over the forces that protect our country and destroy our enemies, but it is unlikely that you'll want to be in my way."

She leaned back, relaxing momentarily with a soft sigh. "I meant what I said last night. Not a one of their men is going to live through this. I only hope we can say the opposite of our own."

[SL the Pyro]

Did he expect to have to get straight back to work upon his return to Koridai? Yes.

Did he expect to be sent into a potential battlefield filled possibly with Alliance soldiers? No.

Was he angry about this? Yes.

Could he vent in front of Chikara? He thought not.

In short, General Shadow was not in a good mood. He returned to Koridai only one day ago thinking the massive Hydra skull he'd brought home would be admired by the people. Instead all he heard was talk of the Alliance attack on Calatia, and having been on leave at the time Shadow was the last to learn about it. He left for just a few days and found all of Koridai preparing for war against two enemy factions. It was just absurd. Not that he could outright complain about this right now, not while riding alongside Chikara... besides, his job was to help command her armies, not to whine.

The men -- and woman, he had to keep reminding himself -- had already rode ahead of him to fight scout and possibly fight alongside the other ranks where they belonged. Shadow's orders to them had been very clear: "Don't get yourselves killed." And he trained them himself, he was sure at least they'd survive. But like Chikara, he was hoping none of Koridai's finest would bite the dust today. Not just because it would be sad, which is compulsory, but because they had to deal with Calatia after this. Not even someone as crazy as Shadow would enter a full-blown without the odds in his favour.

Shadow had hoped to be there along with his soldiers, but the horse he was riding seemed to be getting on in years... he would've picked his usual one, but apparently it had gone into labour. Female, typical. What was it with him and his horrible luck with steeds? Anyway, because of this, he was forced to ride uncomfortably close to Chikara and Steel.

Beware of the madness...

These were the words of Phoenix, his newest companion who was now merged with his Key of Fire to unlock its true power. But despite this strength the General had gained, it didn't make him any less anxious around the Goddess and her own immense power, especially with any of the Council of Four around her. By now they had more than likely noticed the change in him as well, and not knowing what they thought of it was unnerving... all he could do was remain silent unless addressed. He didn't want to say anything stupid, not now of all times.

Well, as long as they had a common ground in wanting these remnants of the Alliance exterminated once and for all.

[Steel Samurai]

They rode from the Arbiter's Grounds three hours before dawn.

Red banners floated in the breeze, the logo of the empire emblazoned in gold stitching.

The tramp tramp of the infantry echoed through the brown rocky canyons around the upper Zora's River.

Volkrim rode at the head of the Praetorian, keeping order among the ranks, whose black armor glimmmered in the sun. The warm smell of horse wafted through the army, a comfort to some, a source of nausea to others. The coats of the black destriers the Praetorians rode were glossy and healthy, proof of the Imperium's renowned stablery.

The eagle soaring over the troops remarked to itself that the entire affair looked like a giant, glittering eye, the black pupil of the Praetorian surrounded by the polished silver army of the infantry. And there, in the center, was a glint of red. The goddess herself.


Steel was outwardly relaxed, sitting comfortably in the saddle of his warhorse, his armored hands holding the reins comfortably. But any man who looked at his eyes could see that the noble was anything but calm, black orbs darting from Chikara to the horizon to the soldiers at his side.


"I am more than appreciative for your enduring protection of me, Lord Steel," the lady spoke quietly, trying to keep their conversation as private as it could considering the circumstances. "Everyone should be ready for a little bit of madness when I push the mass of our army through space itself to the doorstep of our enemy's encampment to surprise them, and your help will obviously be instrumental in keeping the order. However, I hope you're fully aware that when we get into the thick of things I will be releasing a bit of the hold I have on my powers. Rest assured that I will have full control over the forces that protect our country and destroy our enemies, but it is unlikely that you'll want to be in my way."

She leaned back, relaxing momentarily with a soft sigh. "I meant what I said last night. Not a one of their men is going to live through this. I only hope we can say the opposite of our own."


"I never doubted your word, my lady. The Alliance should pose us no threat, not if you yourself are to fight with us. But I worry of the silence from Calatia. I have not had contact from my agent in General Crimson's Snakeheads since Selena and several other notable Calatians departed from Verden, heading south."


Steel was about to continue, when a commotion arose in the front ranks. He looked to Chikara, and then spurred his stallion up through the ranks. One of the scouts had returned.

The troops parted like a wave for the Commander of the Praetorian. Not one scout. Two. They had been gone for three days. The horse of one was covered in lather, but the rider itself seemed to have returned without a scratch. The other slumped over the neck of his horse, his face bloody, and his hand clasped to his side. Steel motioned to the healthy one.

"Report."

"The main Alliance army is marching towards us. They appear to have a contingent of mages who think they can defeat Chikara, but no magical devices out of the ordinary were observed."

The scout gave some more details about the types and number of troops about to face them. Towards them? Good. A huge strategic error on the part of the General. He probably thought he was lessening the chance of being sandwiched between the armies of Koridai and Calatia, but in reality his troops would arrive at the battle with less energy, and the Imperial troops would arrive with more.

The other scout pushed himself up in the saddle and spoke with difficulty.

"The hills are infested with Alliance guerrillas, who have convinced many of the local populace to side with them. All over. I only barely escaped, and I'd wager that the other ten scouts are dead. The cells are fairly large, this region containing nearly seven hundred men by my count. I have heard that the same thing is true in Calatia."

Steel sighed. It was going to take a large number of men to root out these guerillas, but until they did the Imperium would have no more than a nominal claim of the lands outside of the Arbiter's Grounds.

"So be it. Good work men. Take them to the healing mages."

He wheeled his horse and rode back to Chikara.

"The report is both positive and negative."

There was another week of marching before they would catch sight of their foe.

[Elvenlord]

Mithelen Elendir rode confidently atop his black warhorse, making idle conversation with the men of his unit. The Praetorian was in full battle array, longsword at his hip, shield and helmet hung at the side of his saddle, glaive slung over a shoulder. Despite the rather light-hearted conversation with his men, he kept a serious look on his face. Must look the part of an elite guard, after all. He glanced over to his goddess, clad in crimson, as she seemed to speak to Lord Steel, some distance away. He couldn't make out a single word, but nothing of importance seemed to be on the agenda, so he shrugged and continued conversing with his soldiers.

Elendir leaned back, staring endlessly into the blue expanse above him. Some clouds flowed gracefully through the sky, but did little to keep the heat in check. Already sweating, he closed his eyes and wiped sweat from his brow. Sighing, he resumed a posture more fit for a Captain of the Praetorian.

Suddenly, activity caught Mithelen's attention at the front of the column, and spied Lord Steel riding towards the commotion, soldiers melting out of his path. The Captain nudged his steed in the same direction, moving a slow walk. Soon he could see two scouts had returned, one bloodied by some encounter. Lord Steel was questioning them, but again Mithelen could not make out what was being said. Too many men lay between them for Elendir to ride closer. Instead, he rose in his saddle in an attempt to gain a better angle, but to no avail. He would simply have to wait for the briefing later on. This all meant something was about to go down soon, however, and, a small smile playing on his lips, he checked his equipment and loosened the straps holding his helmet and shield.

[Egann]

"I tell you what," the vendor sighed, stroking the dress sword. "I'll give you a thousand even for the lot."

"Only a thousand?!" Egann was furious. "The dress sword alone should pull that much. If you won't give me a fair price, I'll take them to another shop."

The vendor laughed. "What shop? They're all closed today because of the Alliance invasion! And now you come in, bearing a sword with the Alliance crest stamped in it's blade wanting a 'fair price?' " He pointed at the base of the dress sword. "Bah! As soon as the Alliance marches in here, they'll see that emblem and confiscate the lot."

"As if the Goddess will loose. I say that three thousand for the lot is a fair price that gives you plenty space to mark up the price, and I also say that giving me less isn't just trying to swindle me, it says you don't trust in the Goddess, you cow of little faith!"

The color drained from the vendor's face.

"Besides," Egann continued. "The Alliance will clean out your shop, swords, money, and all anyways, so you've got nothing to loose by giving me a fair price even if they win. And I could've sworn I saw another shop open down on Judgment Boulevard. If you won't give me a price which isn't an insult to the Goddess, I'll wager they will."

"Make way!" a voice called out from the road. "Make way for the Goddess's Army!"

"There you go." The vendor regained his composure. "If you're such a faithful servant of the Goddess, why aren't you in the military."

"I am! I'm a Sergeant in the 109th."

"Oh. Yeah. An officer came by earlier from the 106th. Said the 105th through the 109th were being kept in reserve. But I would've thought they would be on alert status, anyways, not issuing leaves...."

"It's a long story," Egann sighed. "It sounds like it's cavalry going by, so if you don't mind, I'll go and pay respects." He opened the door to watch the Cavalry column file by.

The vendor walked up behind Egann. "Looks like the 41st Cavalry Scouts, by the banners."

"I can read." Egann growled.

The column filed past, followed by the 43rd. "Hmm. The 42nd is missing." Egann pondered to himself, remembering a kid he'd helped through basic the last time he'd been a Sergeant, who had been transferred to the 42nd.

"That's 'cause there is no 42nd. Didn't you hear that Selena wiped that division out in the Chasm of Wyrms. No survivors. I thought you were in the military."

"I had heard that a division had been wiped out, but I never heard which. My division is mostly fresh recruits out of basic, and news of the outside world is hard to come by in basic."

Sorry, kid. Looks like I won't be able to pay you back, after all.

"I tell you what," The vendor said. "Three thousand two hundred. Final offer."

Egann shook his hand, and was walking out the store a moment later, purse substantially heavier.

The last division had just gone through, and already the road was becoming busy again. But there at the back of the 45th Cavalry Scouts there was a skinny kid with shoulder-length blond hair, a longbow on his back.

Lester?! I thought the vendor just said his division was wiped out. How is he still alive?

[Chikara Nadir]

Chikara clenched tight in her hand the reins of her steed, and the stallion snorted its disapproval at her action with little expectation of response. The beast was her favorite because it was dumb enough not to be afraid of her presence when so many others went mad with rage at first sight of the woman, but also smart enough to steer straight and true when her mind so often drifted off into oblivion.

The woman already knew what Steel's only response could be, if not in detail then at least she sensed the outcome of her scouts. If anything, she was actually surprised that even a one of them had returned alive. At least that gave her hope; Selena's men would have tracked down each Imperial soldier to the ends of the world to ensure their demise. Surely after fighting against the mountain-folk, the Alliance would be weak enough to scatter in a heartbeat. Still, if it had taken her fastest men so long to return, then moving so massive an army with foot soldiers throughout would be tedious at best.

"They're still so far ahead…" On the one hand this meant that the Alliance soldiers weren't advancing as quickly as she'd expected, and thus had not yet obliterated a great portion of her fair nation. On the other hand, it meant that this unwavering heat would leave Chikara's soldiers in far from peak condition when their enemies finally were within sight.

Sitting up a little taller, the lady composed what little regality she could about her unsettled frame and boomed in an unearthly voice that rattled through the masses and echoed for miles ahead, "We halt our march shortly! You will check your armor for weak points and sharpen your blades until they can prick stone. Then I will see each man build their tent and sleep despite the heat; we will be awakening again at twilight to strike at our enemies under cover of dark! I expect each and every one of you to be held accountable for slitting ten men's throats before morning light. Not a one of you will show mercy, nor hesitation, nor even need a bandage for a single blister if you consider yourselves true and righteous Koridaians! These Alliance cockroaches will be crushed beneath our heels within two days time at longest, so we can return to wiping out the blight of Calatia!"

The calvary were forced to grip their steeds between their legs tightly to keep from being bucked, and even the ground teemed with ants and worms struggling to get away from the overpowering vibrations of her voice. Then all was silent again but for the soft metal scraping of the soldiers continuing forward, and the cawing of a flock of departing birds on the horizon. "I hope your men don't get seasick," she spoke to Steel after a moment of silence to allow the ringing in his ears to dissipate. "I will be unravelling space and distance to get us the hell over to our enemies and back in due time. Nobody so much as sets foot in my nation without my approval and lives to tell the tale."

[Elvenlord]

Captain Elendir tightly gripped his black steed as the very ground shook beneath the hooves of the cavalry. His goddess's booming voice vibrated through the very air, creating almost a sense of fear in the young Captain. But yet, despite the trembling of the earth and the sensation of fear, as he heard the words the fiery goddess spoke, admiration also grew, outpacing the fear, even pushing it back. As the goddess ended her speech, Mithelen drew his sword, appearing to become aflame in the desert sun, and tried to begin a rousing call for his goddess. His ears, and the ears of his companions, were however still ringing, and he hardly heard himself, if he even managed the shout. Elendir lowered his sword, then sheathed the blade, motioning his men to move along as the army began to march once more, silent except for the shifting of metal and dull footsteps.

[SL the Pyro]

"I hope your men don't get seasick, I will be unraveling space and distance to get us the hell over to our enemies and back in due time. Nobody so much as sets foot in my nation without my approval and lives to tell the tale."

The moment Shadow heard the word "seasick," his face paled. Of all the people in the army, he had the tendency to get seasick the most because he was so unused to sea travel. Absentmindedly he reached into his tunic for his ginger pills, which he shouldn't have brought... but it turned out he did indeed have them. He was supposed to leave them at home since there wouldn't be any sea travel for this mission, but it seemed he was so rushed that he forgot to do that. Well, no point in complaining about a blessing in disguise. He popped a couple pills and grinned innocently at Chikara. With closed eyes, of course.

He then resumed being miserable about things other than the condition of his stomach. She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, too... well, at least they were on the same page.

Edited by SL the Pyro, 08 May 2010 - 03:49 AM.

[Steel Samurai]

The men moved no faster than usual. But the land around them did. Each step they took seemed to propel them twenty feet forward. One or two of the horses tripped, but it did not take them long to become accustomed to this new method of travel. It seemed almost as though they floated above the ground, touching down every so often, only to leap above again. But it was not so. All felt a slight sense of disconnection from the earth, as though they were looking through the eyes of another man, and not themselves, Steel included.

For hours they traveled, deep into the night, the goddess' power smoothing the way before them, making the trip as light and easy as if it were all on the well-built Imperial Roads closer to the capitol. Steel wondered idly to himself if this was how Chikara perceived things all the time, if she never felt entirely connected to the earth and those around her. But they were no more than that - Idle thoughts.

The hours drifted by, and it was not long before they were barely two miles from the Alliance encampment. Scouts were sent out, and they returned with the news that the men of the Alliance were formed up for battle. Twenty thousand men against the mere ten thousand (including the Praetorian) that had accompanied Chikara on this campaign.

But Koridai had an ace in the hole.

And she was itching to fight.

It was not long before an Alliance diplomat topped the hill before them, waving a white banner.

"The generals wish to parley."

Steel looked at Chikara, awaiting her reaction.

[Chikara Nadir]

Chikara was slow to react to Steel's voice, gripping tight the reins to her horse as she stared at the billowing white banner calling for her attention. Twice her men were ready to destroy the army she'd brought with her. That would mean many more warships ready to assist the cause if the battle should rage long. She had no doubt in the skills of her soldiers, but even a success against the Alliance force would include heavy unwanted casualties. Her men were better served fighting Selena's forces, or striking out into the unknown to discover new lands for Koridai…not dying here under the sun of their own nation, at the blade of fools still bitter about the death of Emperor Khuffie.

Finally the woman blinked, looking over to her second-in-command with the somberness of a widow on her husband's burial day. "You need not mince words, Lord Steel. Parley is only a kind term for the game of cat and mouse they intend to play with us."

She slid down from her steed and waited for Steel to follow, keeping her voice low as she stepped through the wall of her soldiers that parted as a wave to make way. "Only you and I," the goddess insisted, "leave your Praetorian to watch and guard the men in case of ambush."

And then, an order to the men barely having thus left Steel's lips, Chikara grabbed her soldier's hand and stepped forward, both of them disappearing instantly into the very shadows at their feet.

When Steel's foot would hit ground again, it was several yards before the door to a large tent in rich purple and red hues with a dozen lanterns lighting it against the dark sky, far too broad for a sleeping quarters and guarded at the door by several men with weapons ready at the sight of the supernatural lady and her right hand. Again the woman moved close to Steel, standing on tiptoes to whisper into his ear, "I do not know what these men or Lazu himself have planned, if he should even choose to appear. So follow my lead to the letter. Whatever I command you to do, no matter how strange, you will obey. If I do not give you a command, then you will stay silent and steady until I alone tell you to do otherwise."

Her eyes wandered around the area, counting the thousands of grouped soldiers who seemed not even to need sleep as they waited for the battle to come. The darkness did not bother her at all; still her eyes were hawklike for miles in pitch black, one of the many strange gifts granted to her by her position as a god. The lady stared long, and then hesitated…that grouping of lights on a far hillside was not of tents or campfires. They were on the cusp of a large town, an outpost and farming community that blossomed in the fertile valley. Perhaps the Alliance soldiers had already slaughtered every family in their sleep, but she could not be so sure.

The goddess then swept forward, stepping quickly toward the guards to offer them a polite bow and a humbly quiet explanation of who she was. The warlord behaved like a meek child in the face of soldiers she could easily snap in half without any unworldly help, frighteningly uncharacteristic of her typical behavior. Yet she was thus let in by the startled men without any hesitation, a small girl who stood no threat.

Two of the guards followed Steel and Chikara in, hands on the hilts of their swords as they waited for their commanders to speak. A barrage of men lounged in the tent around a long table, several of them older and plumper, sitting in chairs padded by pillows in the royal colors while younger men shadowed them with ledgers and maps in preparation of their imminent attack. The room was bright as day and gaudy as hell.

"Well, well, the mole rat shows her face," one of them called out, a known insult toward dwellers of the Labyrinth. Being the past queen, she was plenty aware of the caricatures that were drawn of her even long into the days she spent as Khuffie's lapdog in his Tower of the Gods. These men cared little for the politics between Koridai and Calatia; as far as they were concerned they were two rebel nations led by dirty mutts from underground. "And with some salty fish in tow, no less." Clearly the men recognized Steel's past identity, as well.

"Sirs," Chikara replied in a muted voice, bowing her head to either side of the table before returning her gaze on the man sitting directly center, the general who had insulted her thus far. "You offered us a white flag. My hopes are that some manner of negotiations might be reached-"

"Not with you threatening to fillet the skin from our bones," the general interrupted, pointing at her hip with a crooked finger. "Strip your weapons and leave them outside."

The woman silently noted that each of the men were fully armed, themselves. "Wait," she motioned a raised hand to the door guards readying to take their weapons, "Take mine, but Lord Steel will be leaving momentarily. He has joined me to hear a synopsis of what we intend to discuss, then will rejoin my men and inform them to wait patiently for my return. I have no intentions of hostilities against your soldiers unless they are due."

That said, Chikara began to undo her belt and remove the knife from inside her boot while the commanding officer simply guffawed. "Is that a fact, then? Well, at least you know your place, still. You see, you made an awfully big mess of out home, and we've only found it fitting that you've spent the last couple of years preparing new beds for us to sleep in. I think we can all agree that since our army's going to tear the shit out of yours anyway, it would be a whole lot easier for everyone if you just sign some documents for surrender and let your fish here tell the men to go back home to their wives. It's that, or my men get the chance to know those same lovely women. In the religious sense, I'm sure."

He snapped his fingers to a scrawny boy to his right, and the scribe pulled a scroll from his bag that looked to be much better taken care of than the maps and war documents tossed around their table. "You can only imagine how many of these roughnecks were away on tour two years ago, only to find out that their girlfriends had been burnt to a crisp. They wouldn't so much mind raiding your little Arbiter's Grounds to return the favor."

The small woman pursed her lips, fists tightly gripping her now swordless sides as she tolerated the insults, one after the other. "You just said that Lord Steel will be the one to tell my men to return home. What will become of myself?"

"Is that your admission of surrender?" This time a man to the right spoke, a snarl of disgust spread across lips too big for his face.

Chikara found herself straightening her back, attempting at least an inkling of majesty in the face of an opposition that held no fear of her. "Lord Steel, you may leave now. Whatever sounds you hear or sights you see from this side of the hill, our army is to remain where they are for the time being. Do not allow even a single scout to leave your side in order to check on these gentlemen and their soldiers. Please return in two hour's time for my body. That is all." With catlike speed she snapped around, grabbing her most trusted soldier's hand in her own. Her crimson eyes pleaded for a moment that he do as she bid, and then he yet again found himself standing back next to his horse amidst his Praetorian guard as though he never had left.

And then only the small, unguarded woman was left. "Bind her." She heard the words as if from the other end of a deep cave, someone else's arm's being pulled tight behind their back and forced together by coarse rope. Only when she tasted dirt did the woman realize she'd been shoved to the ground.

"It's too easy to see why the Emperor kept you around. A conniving little tramp, but in the end you always knew to obey the better man's orders."

Another voice joined in, laughing, "Well, this will make the soldiers happy. Today they get to pass around the Labyrinth whore for their own personal pleasure, and tomorrow we murder her army anyway. By the end of the week, we'll see the palace burned to the ground, and then we can move onto putting the mountain mutts out of their misery next."

Chikara did not show fear in anticipation of her imminent murder. She did not cry at the thought of her empire being ruined so easily. Instead, the goddess simply smiled.

[Steel Samurai]

OOC: SL, Elven, this thread is pretty much going to be myself and Chik for the rest of it. I'm going to give you an out so you can go join RNSM's quest.

They appeared before the purple tents, and Steel felt sick. Not that he showed even a whit of it, but the act of suddenly being nearly a mile away from where you were originally was not good for the stomach. Chikara was quite capable of taking care of herself, but he was none too happy about leaving the Praetorian behind. She stood up, leaning into his ear, her breath distractingly warm and moist.

"I do not know what these men or Lazu himself have planned, if he should even choose to appear. So follow my lead to the letter. Whatever I command you to do, no matter how strange, you will obey. If I do not give you a command, then you will stay silent and steady until I alone tell you to do otherwise."

Steel nodded, but his grip tightened on the Dualist Blade at his side. The plans of Chikara herself were hard to decipher, and, coupled with the complete unpredictability of the deity who still seemed to reside within her, he had no clue what she was planning. Yet. He considered this for a second as they walked into the tent, subconsciously taking note of everything around him, analysing the possible defensiveness of their position, hiding spots, order of targets to eliminate, obstacles, and potential threat levels.

"And with some salty fish in tow, no less."

Typical. Alliance scum couldn't throw a proper insult if someone else wrote them down and had them read them off a sheet of paper. Nonetheless, that man would die tonight, if not at the hands of Chikara, then those of Steel. It was obvious Chikara did not intend to truly parley, they would have met them halfway across the field, rather than within the tents themselves. Steel took note of the man who had issued the first insult, though another soon followed. Medium height, bald, fat, no armor. Large walrus style mustache. They were as twins. Junker and Junkel. Junkel was the commander of the entire army, supposedly a strategic genius. Junker was a tactical genius, commanding the cavalry of the force. Steel had received dossiers on all officers of note in this force only moments before he left. The journey had given him plenty of time to study them. Well. It was the last battle their 'genius' would lose.

Steel listened as the bickering took place, wondering just how it was that these Alliance dogs didn't know exactly who they were dealing with. This was not the same woman who had served as Khuffie's lapdog for so long. This woman had destroyed decades of empire building in a single night, and then built an empire of her own in a mere two years.

"Is that your admission of surrender?" The glint in the man's eyes spoke of a combination of lust and disdain, as though he were about to rape a prostitute. It was well that Solomon was not here, now. For once, Steel would have supported him in whatever he decided to do to these dogs.

"Lord Steel, you may leave now. Whatever sounds you hear or sights you see from this side of the hill, our army is to remain where they are for the time being. Do not allow even a single scout to leave your side in order to check on these gentlemen and their soldiers. Please return in two hour's time for my body. That is all." She looked into his eyes for a moment, and that moment seemed to stretch into eternity, Steel's own ability to read auras amplifying the pleading in her eyes. But the chaos . . . was overwhelming, bubbling just below the surface, drawing him in, maddening, disrupting . . . But not only was there chaos . . . there was something else . . . a hint of . . . the other. Lazu himself, still locked somewhere in her psyche. She broke their gaze, and Steel was left with a trickle of blood running down his nose. A trickle of blood, and deep sense of foreboding. And then he was back, next to his steed.

Volkrim rode up next to him, and handed him a dirty rag. Steel wiped his nose.

"Volkrim. Stay here. Ensure the men do not, under any circumstances, mount the crest of that hill. You are in command until I or Chikara return."

He mounted his steed and rode to the front of the lines, refusing any offers of accompaniment. He topped the hill, less than two minutes since he had left Chikara's side. The sun was beginning to set on the grassy plain behind the Alliance encampment. His thoughts flitted for a moment to Viscount Ransom and the mission to the Wall of the Gods. He had sent General Shadow Link and Captain Elendil back as soon as he realized that they were in formation. Apparently the messengers had failed to reach them before the troops had shipped out, and Steel had had other things on his mind. With any luck they would be well under way by now.

Steel looked behind him. The troops were all staring at him, an armored silhouette against the setting sun. That would not do. He kicked his horse's flanks and began his descent down the far side of the hill. He dismounted when he reached the base, and waited.

It was not long before the chaos began.

[Chikara Nadir]

"For the glory of the resurrected Alliance!" one of the generals shouted into the crisp evening air, the last tendrils of sunlight bidding their adieu against the prairie hillsides in silence. The sun knew what they did not: that it should get going while the going was good. Nightfall at any ordinary time suggested it was time for mischief and evil, even young children were wise enough to recognize this. The soldiers of the Alliance, however, had grown too proud to acknowledge that any simple shadows of the night could cause them harm.

That was their second mistake.

Their first, naturally, revolved around the fact that they had allowed Chikara to separate herself from the last barriers of her sanity: she would never wish to cause harm to Steel or to her army, nor allow them to see her as anything other than the glorious goddess that faithfully protected them. Now all of her military might stood on the other side of a high hill - out of harm's reach for these enemy soldiers, but moreover hopefully away from her ferocity as well.

The illustrious leader now was being led out of the head tent, pulled by her long, dirty hair with strong tugs that frequently sent her sailing face-first back into boot-stampeded grass outside. Her arms still were bound, so she had no hope of catching herself or fighting back. One eye was beginning to swell shut from a kick to her face, but the other gazed crimson at the gathering crowd of hundreds, thousands, to see her public demise.

"This, men, was the so-called deity of Koridai, the queen of the ants who claimed to have helped bring down our former home! Yet she was at least smart enough to recognize that her choices were to surrender, or to be smoked out of her palace as her nation burned! The dog doesn't have much bite left now, does she?"

The men laughed and whistled, eager for their leaders to get on with the show. "Now, we all know what the queen of the Labyrinth was most famous for. So should we slice her throat, or remind her of her place first? I'll let you boys be the judges of that!"

Chikara felt a boot kick hard at her lower back, sending her sailing into the crowd. For all the expected inappropriate grabbing that the nearest soldiers started at, she was actually granted her greatest wish in the blink of an eye -- one of the men had caught her by her shoulders and forced a long kiss on the defenseless woman's lips. Not wanting to lose her chance, she pressed herself into the kiss with as much fervor as anyone would expect of the former queen of sin, until the man realized too late that he couldn't release himself from her grip. She kept her lips to his until his hearty, muscular form sallowed into a haggard, frail pile of standing bones.

Finally she pulled away, blood flowing from her mouth and cascading from her chin as she laughed in childish glee, the ropes around her wrists falling to the ground at the same rate as the now-dead soldier, both no longer able to hold such a beast captive any longer. "I suppose I must thank you all," the petite threat giggled, wiping the blood from around her mouth with her shirt-sleeve while the soldiers surrounding her took the defensive. "Little Chikky was trying so hard to be a good girl, wanting everyone to get along in her delusional happy world. But you did everything right to ensure that she would be more than willing to give up control to the real power behind her puppet show. And that would be me."

Before a sword could be reached or an arrow shot, the air rumbled with a wave of energy, like a sudden wind knocking hundreds from their feet like so many dominoes away from the epicenter of one weaponless girl. "Pop goes the weasel," she trilled in a voice not quite hers, clapping her hands in delight as blood sprayed from the necks of the men closest to her, everything above them suddenly gone missing.

"Now, this is nothing to lose your heads over!"

The soldiers on the outskirts of the assembly had to make a quick decision -- some chose to back away, but most followed the sudden frightened orders of their superiors to "CHARGE, for the love of the gods!"

But they found themselves suddenly outnumbered, as all their newly departed brethren turned about limply, blood-drenched bodies holding weapons high to begin fighting against the army in the name of Chikara's coup d'état.

You're going to stop somewhere, aren't you? They deserve nothing less than our fury, but least leave a handful of survivors to torture and interrogate?

"Nawwww," the excited deity muttered to herself, ignoring the pleas of the voice trapped inside…perhaps the female voice of the body's original owner. "What can I say? I love to leave a party with a bang."

The very dirt of the nearby hills began to slide and shift as the very ground shook to its core, the empty being sucked in on itself and forced outward again in mighty explosions that took men with them and hollowed out craters throughout the valley.

Men fought their brothers, others who attempted to flea in terror found themselves confronted by canyon-wide cracks from the land opening up new mouths to devour them whole. Some simply ran around wildly screaming as their heavy metal armor glowed iron-hot, lighting up the darkening scene like twisting, tormented fireflies.

The goddess herself only spent a moment basking in the sweet sounds of screams and scent of iron oxide as blood misted through the air. Otherwise, she had busied herself finding the fallen body of the guard who had taken her weapons, and casually re-equipped herself. They were at that point the only thing on her not dripping heavily in a scarlet liqueur that she occasionally took pleasure in lapping up when it fell upon her lips or fingertips.

Now happy to have her full artillery, Chikara pulled from her belt the weapon she'd used most seldom in recent years -- a dainty metal eating utensil that most might find her mad to keep on hand. The spork, as she called it, was the only weapon from the Labyrinth she'd managed to retain through her years spent in Khuffie's court, and that had been salvaged from the now fallen Empire. It grew by her silent command, reaching nearly her own height and glowing hot like a demented firry trident. If they wanted a reminder of what the queen of the Labyrinth was really famous for, she would give it to them.

Just spare the village, at least until we can have a better look at who resides in it. They may be soldiers, or they may be innocent hostages. Destroy those who threaten us, but spare our own.

"Too late," they who controlled the body replied, raising an open hand then snapping her fingers. The hillside town was in flames, a giant instant bonfire to add to Chikara's strange evening party. "Every resident there was probably gutted days ago, you're turning weak if you think otherwise. Hell, still weak if you aren't willing to do some dirty work and risk the collateral damage."

The voice inside was silenced again, unable to fight back even through words as the stronger being struck forward and continued to part the assaulting masses by bloody force. She had only two hours to clean up this sorry excuse for an army, but the woman was sure she'd finish with time to spare.






From the other side of the hill where her army patiently stood, one could only imagine what the sounds and sights from the other side indicated. The Alliance army howled in unearthly sounds, the sky occasionally lighting up as if from sudden fireworks from a foreign land. Every so often it seemed that the hands of a single soldier might reach out above the hill's top, waving for help for a moment…only to dip back down again with a whimper or a scream and never be seen again.

But shortly before the time limited had passed, twilight had surrendered into solid black against a peaceful star-scattered sky, screams turned to silence and then finally into the ordinary songs of crickets unafraid to search for love in the tall grasses.

On the other side, out of their reach, the scene was much different. Half the land was removed of its plant life, overturned or burnt to the root, the rest drenched in puddles of a thick syrup mixed from blood and dirt. Cinders smoldered amongst piles of bodies, barely lighting the open and defined pathway to the empty plot of land where a single body lay, curled up into a ball and shivering from the burning release of adrenaline still pumping through her now useless muscles. She stared outward at the gaping mouths of her now silent foes, whispering nothings to herself as she waited for her faithful to find her…and hoped that her own army had not also been obliterated in the fray. There was never a time when the heathen woman had felt closer to her personal god -- nor an instance where she wished more fiercely that she could pretend no such deity had ever existed.

[Steel Samurai]

The noise had subsided. The screams and yells of agony had died off completely. All that remained was the crackle of the fires burning in the camp. Steel shut his eyes. There was only one life-force before him. No, wait. There was another. Beyond the former alliance camp. Steel's eyes snapped open. He put foot to stirrup and kicked his black destrier in the flanks, galloping off across the plain.

He circled the camp, leaving Chikara be for the moment. He prayed that this was not what he thought. Prayed, though he knew not to who. There. Beyond the Alliance camp there was a slight dip in the land, concealing what lay beyond from any until they were right upon it. He dismounted at the edge of the dip, ignoring the broken, burned skeletons of the Alliance tents and humans beside him. They got exactly what they should have been expecting.

There it was. Just as he feared. He made his way down the grassy slope, and then stopped. There had been a village here. Hamlet's Rest, named for the first of the Koridaian Military to fall in battle. Granted, he was fighting a large bear at the time, but it was still a significant event. He was buried here. In the middle of the square. The only place in the village they had been able to afford to pave. But now it was nothing more than ashes and dust. Bodies were strewn across the packed dirt streets, fields of wheat, fresh and ready for the harvest burning black smoke in the distance. Houses were nothing more than blackened timber skeletons, the dry thatch roofs having burned to nothing in seconds. He stopped by a body, an old peasant woman. She had been carrying a sheaf of wheat, which caught on fire and set her dress and hair alight. Somehow the face remained unscathed, save for the look of pure, unbridled terror and pain that was her death-mask. Her torso . . . was separated from her legs, and not by fire. Something sharp had accomplished that.

The ramifications of this were . . . big. But he couldn't think about that now.

He began to walk towards the life-sign he had felt, still thinking. He would not betray her. But there had to be some way to cure this madness, cure this . . . influence that the God of Chaos still had upon her. By the time he reached the hut, he had formulated something resembling a plan. He packed it up, mentally, and buried it at the back of his mind, deep in his long term memory, where no one could find it unless they knew exactly what they were looking for.

It was on the edge of the village. The only hut still with a wall standing. A tiny whimper echoed from the corner at his approach. Steel grabbed the fallen, burnt timbers and shoved them aside. They were still hot to the touch. There was a little girl there. Not more than seven or eight, and quite naked. Steel removed his gauntlet and reached out his hand to her. Slowly, tentatively, she grabbed his fingers, her tanned skin contrasting sharply with the pale skin of a habitual nocturne. He pulled her up, removed his ceremonial surcoat, and draped it over her. They walked, side by side, hand in hand, through the village. He did not try to cover her eyes. This was the way of the world. The sooner she learned it, the better off she would be.

They reached the top of the hill, and Steel set the little girl, who he had dubbed "The Girl" in his mind, on his horse. He led them over through the remains of the Alliance camp to where Chikara lay, curled up in the midst of a patch of open dirt, cleared by the sheer force of the God's power. She was shivering. Apparently the Goddess' body was . . . limited in how much divine power it could truly channel. Steel knelt beside her, saying not a word. He scooped her up, carefully, gently, handling the body of his queen as he would a porcelain doll. Or a delicate instrument, since Steel really didn't have much experience with dolls. There was no resistance left in her body; she was as limp as a rag-doll. He considered putting her on his horse, along-side the little girl, but in her condition even horseback riding would be something of a strain. It was a mile to the ridge separating them from the former Alliance camp, and she was light. Steel made an odd clicking noise with his tongue, and his horse followed him, the girl astride the destrier's broad back.


The battle was over.

[Chikara Nadir]

The battle may have raged with sound and fury, but it had ended with a near-silent whimper, the broken voice of a queen mentally and physically torn asunder by her own destructive capacity. Her muscles were fatigued by the force of moving mountains and murdering thousands, and her brain rattled from the force of her own heartbeat. But these elements alone were not what kept here comatose for two days, silently slumped over a horse while her army trudged the long route to the capital without aid of he space-shifting magicks.

There were no enemy soldiers to shout battle cries at them, nor civilians left to wail in fear in the nearby township. Only the sounds of horses clopping, half-removed armor scraping and clanging in the hot sun, and the occasional giddy bird chirping in oblivious freedom high above, yet the goddess incarnate could not will herself to open her eyes.

Everything was still too loud inside her skull. Voices raged on, competing over dominance of her mortal frame, demanding they all have a piece of her while the woman was unable to fend them off. Chikara herself made no arguments validating her own rights to the unconscious body; there was no point in trying to make sane arguments to long-dead beings who, if they were alive, would all be sharing rooms in an asylum. Nor was she sure she wanted to awaken and see what had become of the wargrounds, of her army, of her Empire…to discover what might remain of the world she had grown to know and love after Lazu had been allowed to have his way with it.

"Ha. Of course you'd just give up the moment you remember how weak you really are. You let me take your throne, became Khuffie's lapdog, and now - when you finally had the chance to pretend you were a god - you put your tail between your legs and admit defeat without even trying to fight back. Probably afraid of breaking a nail."

She didn't even need to guess who that voice belonged to. It was not one of the dead avatars of Lazu, not the voices of Veteran, of Jinn, or Anju who haunted her daily. It was the same voice that had tortured the goddess as a supposed dead spirit weeks before, the only mortal who she considered her true peer and threat.

"If you give up now, you'll never get to kill me yourself. Sure, Lazu might. But you won't even get to look me in the face when it happens. Weakling."


Two days unconscious was enough. The voice was right, she had better things to do.





When Chikara awoke with a sharp gasp of air, she tasted mothballs in her dry mouth. At least her lips were not cracked, Steel had made sure to wet them and her forehead to keep the heat and dry wind from getting to her. She knew instantly where they were, not forty miles from the battlefield. Steel must have let the men rest and celebrate their victory for a day while he waited to see if she would recover. They could only stay so long, however, before the men would grow restless either to investigate the devastated burial grounds of the Alliance soldiers, or to return home. He couldn't risk them getting the impression that something was amiss.

The man had been switching between carrying her himself and placing her on a horse only long enough to recover his strength. He was a good soldier, and moreover a good servant and follower. Perhaps the being she trusted most at this moment in time, even over herself.

"Lord Steel," she whispered hoarsely, swallowing empty air. "Let me down." She slid herself from his arms, wrapped in a large man's military jacket to cover up the demolished outfit underneath. It went down past her knees.

Chikara grabbed for the water bottle strapped to his horse's saddle, hesitating at the appearance of a young girl riding atop it, tawny and expressionless. The woman took a deep swig, both sets of eyes firmly planted on one another.

"It will be a short while before I've recovered the energy to send us back to The Arbiter's Grounds. Perhaps a few hours, maybe another two days. We'll need to make due with walking the old fashioned way until then." Chikara couldn't trust using Lazu's powers so soon, not while she was still attempting to hide how shaky she felt on her feet. Her eyes finally left the girl, ready to ignore her for as long as necessary. The child was fine with this unspoken arrangement.

"I must be candid with you," she continued, trying to pick up the pace of the rest soldiers who were continuing ahead while staying close enough to Steel for it to be possible to whisper at a level that only she, he, and perhaps the silent girl could hear beneath the whine of scraping armor and the dim thunder of hundreds of footsteps. Chikara continued to pretend the third member of their group did not exist.

"This situation has left me at an impasse. I am an omnipotent power, indestructible to all but myself, and no less than the greatest of threats to our enemies. I am immortal, as far as you or I know, and perhaps eternal. Surely destined to live longer than any other member of our kingdom, except for those few blessed by the power of Lazu that flows so freely from my veins." The woman raised her fist, even has her voice grew louder with the delight of knowing these facts as true. "Even in a time when the former dwellers of the ancient Labyrinth find themselves slowly beginning to age…I will not."

"However," she sighed, her face slightly pink at the embarrassment of having to vocalize her feelings so abrassively. "This event has left me tremendously aware of my weaknesses. If Lazu gains control of me for a period longer than we can tolerate, or if I fall to unconsciousness again for a prolonged period of time, someone must be able to take on the role of leader without question. Someone who is willing to forsake mortal age and the enjoyment of growing old with loved ones so that they can instead spend endless days absorbing my power, skills and knowledge. One who can be respected by the masses for their deeds, not questioned for being less than the dangerous god who they are accustomed to. Who also will be willing to step down without question if my leave is temporary - but no puppet leader."

It had been a matter of minutes since she'd awoken, and Chikara already felt strong enough to move mountains yet again. This scared her. "I need to train an heir."

[Steel Samurai]

Steel walked slowly, his long, swinging gait slowed considerably to match Chikara's. He listened, absorbing, processing, but also trying to anticipate what was on his queen's mind. What all this meant for the Empire, and, ultimately, for him.

"I need to train an heir."


The scent of horse and the crisp grass of the steppe filled the air, imbuing all around them with a feeling of calm, of relaxation and beauty. A strange paradox, that life should flourish so freely among those whose job was to be an agent of death, and in the harsh environment of the Verden Steppe, no less. In ten years, twenty would it still be like this? Chikara was changing, slowly, unnoticeable to any who did not know her well, see her every day. There was a tone of worry in her voice, subliminal, lurking beneath the surface. Steel didn't know what to make of it. He chose his words with care.


"Announcing an heir would be . . . inadvisable, my lady. The public needs to see you as omnipotent and neverending. You should have no need for one. I do not say not to choose one, merely keep it a secret. Disguise their true purpose. They should be one either whose loyalty you trust absolutely, or who can be molded as you see fit. Someone with inner strength and courage who nonetheless will not become overweeningly prideful because of their status. And someone who you are sure will not betray you as Selena did. This is, of course, something only you can decide. But . . ." A rare glimpse of a smirk spread across his face. "I do not recommend Lord Solomon."

[JRPomazon]

Within his chambers within the Arbiter's Grounds, Solomon was at his desk overlooking documents for a recent investigation of the Imperial Inquisition. His nose catch an itch and suddenly, he expelled the foreign sensation with a loud sneeze.

"Lord Solomon, are you falling ill sir?" One of his attending templars asked.

"Yes, I'm growing bored." he replied.

He sniffed loudly and continued with his work.

Edited by JRPomazon, 23 June 2010 - 04:04 AM.

[Chikara Nadir]

"You do not wish to see Lord Solomon with more power than he already has? Well, that's a shocking revelation." Chikara was almost surprised at herself for allowing that moment of jovial sarcasm, mirroring Steel's faint smile for no other reason than that she was amused by the constant play battle between the two men.

"No, I had no intention of it. He is a great asset to the empire, loyal but fearsome. And honestly, he warms my heart to memories of my own past a few short years ago." Those words all but said that she enjoyed Solomon's bloodlust, his inherent urge to destroy by any means possible without concern for how others - especially Steel - felt about his so-called honor. If she could not have Selena in her realm, the goddess was proud to know that Solomon had thus far proven to be more than adequate at accomplishing the same goals.

"You walk on eggshells when responding to so delicate a subject in my presence," Chikara pointed out, stepping lightly herself on the horse-trodden grass as though with a sense of peace about her. She did not look happy, necessarily…but neither did she appear so disturbed the the battlefield they were leaving behind. The woman had hope on her side.

"I have faith that you can remain equally diplomatic in situations of actual duress, Lord Steel. If I, the heathen queen of a murderous rebel nation can change to the loving savior of an empire, surely you will be able to appease the crowds equally - if not more so." Her eyes remained steady on the soldiers walking some distance in front of them, rather than search Steel's face for an emotional reaction. "You see…I have not always been frank with you. I have been watching you, among others, for some time to assess your value to the military and the state. Occasionally testing you - including these last few days. Your faithfulness especially is what I cherish."

The redhead wrapped Steel's dark cloak tighter around her small frame, a security blanket even for the greatest power in the realm. "When I explained what I would desire from an heir, I understood entirely the implications of calling you thus in public. It would be a mistake, as you said: rumors of my immortality or strength wavering would be so thick in the air that they could be cut with a knife. So I would need to give you a position that suggests you are entitled to certain rights by default, not by my necessity to have a strong replacement."

"I may not live forever. Or if I do, I may not remain sane for the duration of my existence - Lazu has been making an excellent show of that. Of course, the public cannot be allowed to know this." Chikara made a point of looking around cautiously to assess that no one could hear a word they said outside of their little group of the woman herself, Steel, and perhaps the horse and its' silent young occupant. Satisfied, she changed her pace for a moment, just long enough to ensure that they were exactly side by side before raising her arm alongside his, the tips of her fingers brushing delicately against his own. "Instead of an obvious 'heir', I think the time has come for Koridai's queen to choose a king."

The goddess gave a single cough, withdrawing her arm so as to cover her mouth. Otherwise she showed no sign of embarrassment at this private speech. "Of course, certain arrangements will be made if you agree. For one, the people of Koridai would need to be given every reason to believe our feelings as a couple are genuine. For another, I have already begun to draw up documents defining which of your current military powers will need to be surrendered to Solomon or the Magnus if and when your new position is filled. I must allow compensation to the men and their very opinionated followers so that they feel you are working with them still as somewhat of a peer, not over them as a ruler who can immediately overturn their decisions. You may have my trust, but for many others it still will need to be earned."

"You will still be allowed your Praetorian and all the secretive services which you lead on the side, but to be frank…you will have bigger fish to fry. Many more liberties will be available to you as leader of half the Empire, to speak nothing of the physical and magical powers you will have access to." Chikara stopped herself, growing silent at last. Some hint of color could be seen in her cheeks, but the woman rubbed a hand across her forehead to play it off as heat and sunburn rather than bashfulness. "My apologies for ranting so long. I hope my bluntness has not scared you away from my…ah…proposal?"

[Steel Samurai]

Steel walked in silence for a moment, his mind working, processing various scenarios and their consequences, the warmth from her touch still lingering on his skin, distracting, empowering. She had surprised him. Steel, who thought he was incapable of being surprised, and for the first time in a decade, he found himself slightly flustered. And so, the first words he spoke were very uncharacteristically Steel, but very characteristically male.

"My Lady . . . would I be merely the king . . . or would I be your king?" The last two words came out of his mouth at something barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat, pulled out the short red ribbon tying his hair back, and began gathering his long black locks at the nape of his neck.

"Would His Holiness the Pope be altogether happy with this arrangement, my Empress?" His tone was even, measured, without a trace of the emotion of the previous statement. "He is, after all, still officially your consort." He paused for a moment, considering. "Reports of my battle at the Chasm of Wyrms have been both widespread and well received. There have even been a few novelizations. I do not think the public at large would take issue with this, my Lady. But for the rest of the Quadrate, especially Lord Solomon, my advancement would be another matter entirely."

He pulled the ribbon tight, and gazed at the setting sun, his black eyes glinting in the orange light.

"Let me not be King, my lady, at least not now. A change that great, so quickly would unfortunately impact the cohesion of the Quadrate. Instead, let me be . . . Prince Consort, chief of the Quadrate, with extra power only in your absence."

He exhaled, the air forced slowly but surely from his powerful lungs.

"In truth my Lady, I wonder sometimes if my abilities are up to the challenges you give them. I long, sometimes for those days of simplicitude when the only thing I had to concern me was the completion of the mission. I do that which I do for the good of your Empire, my Empress, but I am a man of action at heart, and sometimes I wonder if my blade feels the lack of blood on its edge . . . There was a time when I barely had time to clean it before the red life of the next enemy would stain its surface, but it has not tasted Calatian blood in a month . . ."

There was silence for a moment. Then Steel spoke again.

"Forgive me my Lady. I should not have burdened your ears with such a tiresome subject as my own feelings about the past."

[Chikara Nadir]

Chikara grew silent again herself, walking forward without voice or expression - even her eyes seemed to be closed to the world, as she hardly used human senses in the same way nowadays. "You're right, of course. Your foresight is one of the reasons I hold you in high regard." There was a hint of wavering in her voice, like a feather caught up in the wind. Whether she was entirely humiliated or just lightly humbled by Steel's decision to back down was unclear.

"You can hold whatever title you deem fit, but my decision stands that you are the only man for the job." The goddess flicked her hand in the air, gathering dust just ahead of them that was tricked into taking a transparent shape of the nation of Koridai. "I may have in me the capacity to see and know all, when I know what to search for, but I still can only be in one place at a time. Having you as my extended eyes and hands," she used the term lightly, pretending with a hint of irony that she did not know what alternate meaning the phrase might have, "has always been and will continue to be appreciated."

"Yes, many of your strengths lie in the battlefield. As did the majority of mine in times past, and I cannot blame you for being frightened by the prospect of being cooped up in the cold stone walls of the Arbiter's Grounds for extended periods while dealing with all the pomp and paperwork of politics. Stretch your wings, Lord Steel. Extend the borders of our fine nation, both on this continent and throughout the world."

Chikara's hand fell again to her side and in perfect tempo the dust also dropped to the ground. "Just promise that we can schedule time for me to personally train you when you are in the city. In national politics and regional etiquette to some level, yes. But there is so much more that you know I have to offer." The small woman felt herself burning up again in embarrassment at her misstep in words, and quickly continued, "That is, the magical skills I could make available to you are nearly limitless. You desire blood on your blade - I could give you the speed and strength to tear apart dozens of the best enemy soldiers limb from limb in a matter of minutes. You could turn boulders to dust, trek through the wilderness for weeks without nourishment, sense the movements of either your attacker or prey before they even occur."

"That said." Steel's Empress stuck two of her fingers to her lips, blowing a high whistle into the air. "Your concerns for Toan's feelings are unnecessary. He has his duties and I have mine. We both have lived by the rules of the Labyrinth regarding relationships, if you can fathom what that might entail. Your company will always be welcome in my court, whatever the circumstances."

The reason for her whistle was made readily apparent when Chikara's personal steed galloped forward, the only beast in the calvary eager to be ridden by her. She hopped onto her saddle with ease despite how very tall it was and how very much she herself was not, craning to look down at Steel with a modest smile of near-motherly affection. "You were a worthy adversary in the Fortress. Now your time to shine in Koridai draws ever nearer."

She tapped her foot on the horse's side, making it move up a couple of feet. Her eyes were now focused on the quiet girl atop Steel's own horse, both sets of eyes unblinking as they continued to assess one another. "Do you have a name?"

The tan little girl only continued to stare at her. Chikara couldn't be sure that she wasn't deaf, dumb, or still in a state of shock, but the woman heavily suspected that their young companion just didn't trust her enough to speak. Maybe she had been taught not to talk to strangers, or she belonged to one of those groups who believed her name was sacred and could be used against her.

The goddess would not be deterred. "Alright, then I will give you a new name until you tell me otherwise. You must love running around all day, with how sunkissed your skin is. I will call you Eliana. And you will be staying with me until I can find you a new, more suitable home."

[Steel Samurai]

"I may have in me the capacity to see and know all, when I know what to search for, but I still can only be in one place at a time. Having you as my extended eyes and hands has always been and will continue to be appreciated."


"Think me not, my Lady, at all insensitive to the honor you bestow upon me." A blush? Now that was something he had never seen upon Chikara's pale cheeks. Something . . . was wrong. "Truly, were all other things equal, serving beside you as king would be," His voice caught in his throat for a moment. "A pleasure beyond my wildest fantasies."



He listened as she spoke of her plans for him, her plans for . . . them, and something within him knew that he was about to pass a point from which he could not return.


"Your company will always be welcome in my court, whatever the circumstances."


"I shall avail myself of your invitation, my Lady, as often as I may." Steel mounted.


"And now, with your permission, I should see to the troops at the front."


After her nod of assent, he spurred his horse onwards. There was much to think about.

[Chikara Nadir]

"Ah, one must be so careful with the loyalty of one's followers…" Koridai's empress whispered to herself, although the young girl she kept close by looked over apprehensively. The fragile-looking ruler closed her eyes, tapping gently at the side of her horse's flank as she settled herself into the rhythm of the animal, relaxing atop the ornate gold filigree of her saddle. Chikara was reluctant to show her weaknesses directly to Steel or her other soldiers, but she could not keep up her perceived omnipotence forever.

The woman was still impossibly powerful, of course. But she was also still equally tired.

"Stop trudging, my knights!" she shouted out from the depths of her belly with a bellowing gusto, startling her horse momentarily. "Hold high your heads and your staves, for there will be many ladies watching us return, eager to please a hearty group of sunburnt heroes!"

"Hold onto your skin, Eliana," Chikara spoke in a much quieter tone to the girl, pulling her horse up close to the one the girl sat on so that she could pick her up - rigid dead weight in the woman's hands, from pure fright, she assumed - and deposit her smaller companion atop her own steed in front of her. The woman then continued again in her louder tone with a chord of excitement, "We're going home, boys! HYAH!"

Her horse took off as though the hounds of hell were after it, and the sky responded with a bark of thunder. Every last one of the men of the Koridian army who stood with her felt their stomachs lurch and their brains thump from an oversped heartbeat for as little time as it took to blink their eyes - and then, to their amazement, they found themselves just outside the border of The Arbiter's Grounds. The sun was still high, no time having passed while they had been sent forward across the desert in a flash, tufts of smoke beginning to curl from the rooftops as evening roasts and stews were prepared for dinner. Without wasting an arrow or having dulled a single blade, they returned triumphant - although only Chikara, Steel, and the girl knew the entire story of why.

ooc: If anyone needs more to be done in this thread, go for it. Otherwise I'm going to retreat back to Future of the Empire or somewhere else I can be of use. TTFN.