[Closed RP] War of the Bane Chosen

[tink'r_toiz]

[OOC: This is an in-game story that follows Members of the Kingdom of Lore as they investigate the War between the Bane Chosen and the Ophidians. Although listed as closed RP, this thread is open to any member of the Kingdom of Lore, character on Origin who interacts with a member of the Kingdom or a character on the Origin who wishes to send information to the Kingdom that they have uncovered about the war.]

War of the Bane Chosen

Nwalme threw a stone from the battlements into the dark blue waters surrounding Castle Britannia. The Guards stationed at the gates scurried around in frenzied panic, trying to locate the “intruder”. Nwalme smiled, hidden away in her little nook enjoying the Chaos she had created. The things she did to occupy herself in times of peace which for Nwalme Goth meant boredom

She had located a fine throwing stone and debated launching it at the absurdly large helm of one of the True Britannian guards when a Herald on horseback rode up to the gates.

He was a tall imposing man, dressed in red and white dragon scale armor, and a helm that dwarfed even the obnoxious True Britannian’s. He spoke in a deep, booming voice. “I am here on behalf of the Bane Chosen; we seek those willing to help us put an end to the plague that are the Ophidians. We gather outside the Opidian lands and launch our attack at dawn. Those who join us will be well compensated for their efforts.”

"Move along good knight, we have duties that keep us here and we will not be distracted by your side quests.”

"Look at his armor, he has the smell of a Minax spy. You trying to get us to leave our posts?? Move along, this is a restricted area.”

"Aye peddle your wares somewhere else, we ain’t wannin non of yer compensation!”

Nwalme’s ears perked up, her sharp elven hearing caught all he had said even from on top of the battlements. She also caught some of what the True Britannian Guardsman had to say before she left to report to Nonel, for the first time she felt guilty for giving them such a hard time.

 

[Lore Denin (GL)]

Nonel looked at the construction, the area that had been designated as the future capital of the Kingdom of Lore, and frowned. He had agreed to serve as King's Hand, Lore's Master spy, he headed the Kingdom's fledgling network of spies. He was responsible for intelligence gathering and counter espionage operations both internally and abroad. This was the life of never ending excitement and danger, he had always dreamed.

Or at least that was what Lore had promised but Nonel couldn't shake the idea that he had somehow been tricked into signing on as the Royal Foreman. When Nonel looked around all he saw was construction, boring never completed construction. Countless piles of rock and wood accompanied by endless questions about layout, materials, and budget and somehow he had ended up in charge of it all.

A light tap on his shoulder caught his attention, Nonel spun around fluidly, his eyes catching the elf maiden, Nwalme Goth, grinning sarcastically at him. ELVES! Perhaps the one thing he hated more then construction and he found Nwalme more annoying then most.
"Oh, sorry, did I just startle the King's Hand? Losing your edge Nonel, or is it possible the Legend is simply greater then the man?"

"Please, if you had startled me, I would have stunned you with one hand and poured this lovely flask down your throat". Nonel shifted his cloak ever so slightly, revealing an array of purple potions he kept securely in his belt. "I still might if you don't wipe that stupid smirk off your face. Even my best spies go missing without word. It’s best you remember that elf."

"Really!! I am one of your best! Master Nonel, you are very kind", Nwalme's voice was sweet, but her lovely elven features had taken on a deadly edge.

Nonel had enough of this nonsense, best to send her on some random errand and be rid of her, "Can you not see I am busy here Nwalme. I assigned you to aid Carinthian in Felucca. What business brings you here to bother me?"

"The Bane Chosen of course."

Nonel hated Nwalme's stupid elf games. He had no idea what she was talking about and just stared at the elf, waiting for her to continue.

"It seems a group, calling themselves the Bane Chosen, has some issue with the Ophidians. Rumor has it they have established a camp on the Ophidian border and are preparing to invade."

"Do I pay my spies to report on rumor Nwalme?” His words came out harsher then he expected, but he could not help it, just being in the presence of an elf put him on edge. “Go find this camp and learn what you can, do not come back until you have something of substance on The Bane Chosen."

"What of the Ophidians?" Nwalme asked innocently, her features still reflecting death as she sweetly batted her eyes at Nonel.

"I'll assign someone of "legendary status" to investigate on that end. I tire of construction and am afraid if I remain a minute longer, I will build a very high wall from which to jump."

The King's Hand and the Elf shared the briefest of smiles before heading off on their respective missions, both sharing the same secret hope the other would meet an unfortunate end while investigating.

 

[Lore Denin (GL)]

“Lady Goth, you look to be in a rush. Is everything okay?” Hawkwind smiled as the elf rushed past him towards the gate that left the Kingdom.

She paused for a second looking back, “The King’s Hand has sent me on a mission, want to come?”

The Seer chuckled, “I doubt I would be of any use to you on a mission, perhaps in my younger days. Besides someone has to stay here and get things done. I am afraid my adventuring days are far behind me.”

Nwalme smiled but she was not fooled by his words, he was far from the frail, elderly man he portrayed and she imagined he would be quiet formidable in battle. In just the short few months she had known the old mage, she had witnessed him perform feats of magic she never would have believed possible.

“Lady Goth” Hawkwind’s voice softened, “As I can not join you. Would you do me the favor of wearing this pin? It’s a scrying pin, a little device I created to find my cat when she runs off. It allows me to locate and observe the bearer through my crystal ball. Not to bore you with magic theory but generally crystal balls good for observing specific places but are completely unreliable when trying to observe living beings which tend to move about. Wearing this pin will allow me to follow your adventures from afar.”

“No offense Hawks but I didn’t train my entire life in the art of shadow and stealth to be so easily observed.”

Hawkwind laughed heartily, “Well, no, of course not. The pin has a magical phrase that activates it and a simple touch of your hand will make the magic go dormant.” Hawkwind leaned over and whispered the phrase into Nwalme’s ear and handed her the small crystalline pin. “Use it as you wish, but I hope you allow me to share some of your journey. It’s the closest this old man will get to having an adventure of his own.”

Nwalme attached the pin to her cloak; what could she do, she had a soft spot for doddering old men

 

[tink'r_toiz]

Nwalme smiled as she touched the scrying pin that Hawks had given her. The Seer was special to her, not that she would easily admit that to anyone, and she wished he could have come on this mission with her.

Nonel … Nwalme viciously kicked a pebble out of her way. Even the thought of that human was enough to cause her to mutter…but it still remained her reality; she now worked for “the King’s Hand” and she would have to learn to deal with him and him with her. She grinned at the delicious harassment she could bestow on her new “employer. For now that would have to wait, she had been sent on a mission and it was time to focus.

The Banes and the Ophidians were in conflict. No one seemed to know exactly why but Nonel thought it worthy of investigation and, to be honest, so did she. She empowered the scrying pin as her charger swiftly carried her through the teleporter maze in Moonglow, to the Mage shop in Papua and finally out into the swamps and deserts of “the Lost Lands”.

​

This is what Nwalme lives for, the possibility of a challenge to her capability and maybe her life. She approached The Bane encampment ready to hide or flee at worst, one hand on the explode potions in case they were needed.

​

But The Banes did not attack; in fact they seemed most reasonable and attempted to recruit her for their cause. Nwalme left the camp thinking; surely it must be the Ophidians that are the aggressor. She knew Nonel was going to be investigating them soon but she had to take at least a quick look at these apparent fiends.

As she rounded the corner and started up the passage to the Ophidian lair she stopped short. There were Bane and Ophidian corpses marring the desert sand. The Bane seemed as aggressive and determined to kill the Ophidians as what Nwalme had imagined the Ophidian to be toward The Bane. This was most distressing and confusing to her.

​

She cautiously moved up the hill toward the Ophidian stronghold. Again she was jarred to a halt as she encountered a local resident obviously fighting for The Bane cause; the greater dragon under tamer's orders to kill all Ophidians.

What was the cause exactly, why do these two hate each other so? Why does this outsider fight for their cause? Nwalme shook her head at the thought that stealthed into her mind. Perhaps it wasn’t the cause this person fought for but the benefits they could receive; mercenary intentions.

That thought was not one she could entertain, but it was hard not to as she moved closer to the Ophidian masses. She expected to be savagely attacked at any moment, but the worst that happened was a feeble attempt by another desert creature. Nwalme was puzzled. The Ophidians were not aggressive towards her either, what could this mean?

Perhaps it was because she was Elf. That thought gave her great pleasure and she smiled sadistically at the thought of "the human" swaggering in to investigate only to be mobbed and mauled by the Ophidian forces.

Nwalme sighed, oh to be a fly on these walls … with that thought she turned back the way she came. She would give Nonel and Hawkwind her report, such as it would be. She had made no conclusive discoveries except that neither force seemed interested in killing her and she grinned as she thought…that is always a good thing.

 

[Lore Denin (GL)]

Holding the shard in his hands, Carinthian whispered the magical phrase that would active the communication magic.

The gem flared blue and Carnithian spoke softly into the gem, "Lord Denin, what are your orders after reading the reports from Nonel and Nwamle, which side shall we support, the Ophidians or the Bane?"

The voice that came through the crystal was gentle but firm, "I have come to a decision and we will support neither side. When it comes to the sword, a Knight should only draw it as a last resort, for just cause. To take life without knowing truth, is to kill without justification and the only justification for bloodshed is in defense of oneself or another. We have gathered no intelligence that would indicate that either the Bane or the Ophidian are in the wrong and until we know more, taking a side would be a grave miscalculation. Trust in Nonel and Nwalme to discover the truth. Be patient, when it comes to life there is no taking back a mistake."

Carinthian paused, "As you command my Lord. The soldiers have asked if they can join the battle in their spare time as it is rumored the rewards can be great. What shall I tell them?"

"Tell them that the Kingdom of Lore does do not employ soldiers but knights of the highest moral calling. Any citizen who wishes to soldier for fame and wealth is free to do so, but know that any Knight who does so gives up their rank and standing within the Kingdom Armies. Furthermore should it be determined that one side is worthy of support, all assistance to the enemy should desist immediately. Continued support of enemy forces will be a crime against the Kingdom."

"As you Command my lord, I will advise the Kingdom citizens to remain out of the conflict and command the knights to the Ophidian/Britannian border to strengthen our presence should the conflict spill onto Britannian soil."

"Very good Commander, I shall arrive soon with the rest of the army. Virtue Keep you, till all are one."

"Till all are one, my Lord"