Eclipse: The Story

[azkanan]

**Introduction**

This game is actually a story, but players can influence what happens by directing their character at certain decision-making points.

**How to Join**

Choose an empty Character Slot from the below list, post that you want to be that character and make a new name for them. They will keep their character's title.
Example: General thorb. "Grad112" wants to play as General thorb, and decides the general should be renamed after himself. General Thorb will then be renamed as General Grad. (If your name is rather…silly/modern, then it will be adapted or denied!).

**How to Play**

When characters need to make a decision, it will be pointed out to them in an appropriate color. Each character has their own default/given color.
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_Garud (Maxac)_
Age: 36

**Swordsmanship Level: 8**
_Stances: Ka, Kayan, Jitsu, Trei, Jitehru, Kei, Yaeno_
**Archery Level: 0**
_Skills:_
**Magic Level: 0**
_Spells:_
**Tactics Level: 4**
_Skills: Mounted Troopers, Troopers, Dig-in, Great Aura_
**Stealth Level: 0**
_Skills:_

_Commander Sean (Sean)_
Age: 33

**Swordsmanship Level: 7**
_Stances: Ka, Kayan, Jitsu, Trei, Jitehru, Kei, Sundo_
**Archery Level: 0**
_Skills:_
**Magic Level: 0**
_Spells:_
**Tactics Level: 5**
_Skills: Mounted Troopers, Troopers, Air Troopers, Dig-in, Great Aura_
**Stealth Level: 0**
_Skills:_

_General Hipoen (Hippoman)_
Age: 52

**Swordsmanship Level: 9**
_Stances: Ka, Kayan, Jitsu, Trei, Jitehru, Kei, Kai, Sundo, Yaeno_
**Archery Level: 0**
_Skills:_
**Magic Level: 0**
_Spells:_
**Tactics Level: 10**
_Skills: Ghost Army, Mislead Enemy, Turncoat, Assassination, Mounted Troopers, Troopers, Air Troopers, Dig-in, Divide and Conquer, Great Aura_
**Stealth Level: 0**
_Skills:_

_Hawk (Hawkstorm)_
Age: 46

**Swordsmanship Level: 10**
_Stances: Ka, Kayan, Jitsu, Trei, Jitehru, Kei, Kai, Sundo, Yaeno, Jetsaki_
**Archery Level: 5**
_Skills: Enchant Arrow (Acid)_
**Magic Level: 3**
_Spells: Clasping Box, Water Walk, Polymorth (Raven)_
**Tactics Level: 2**
_Skills: Ghost Army, Mislead Enemy_
**Stealth Level: 2**
_Skills: Invisibility, Disguise_

_Meikel (StingRay200)_
Age: 16

**Swordsmanship Level: 3**
_Stances: Ka, Kayan, Jitsu_
**Archery Level: 0**
_Skills:_
**Magic Level: 0**
_Spells:_
**Tactics Level: 0**
_Skills:_
**Stealth Level: 0**
_Skills:_

_**Character Slots:**_

**Garud (Father)**
Garud is an ex-commander of the Rosan Empire, and is now a loving, but strict, father. He is your classic big brute with a huge axe/sword - but he is intelligent!

**Ishitaka (Mother)**
Ishitaka is the caring mother of the children. She may appear pacifistic - but she is a deadly, trained warrior.

**Sanche (Younger brother)**
Sanche is your classic 8 year old annoying little brother. But, he does grow up to be an useful warrior.

–-------------

**Unnamed Yagra General**
This guy will be making the military movements of the Yagra against the Rosan Empire. He will steer movements Yagra, but will probably barely be noticed until the war becomes the focus of the story.


[azkanan]

**Prologue**

“You can do better than that!” Called the tall, strong man from the left, leaning against the doorway idly. Meikel rose from his knee, rubbing his head.
“En guarde!” His tutor launched forward with his wooden sword. Meikel took note that the man’s attack was a repeat from the last – and it hurts! The boy brought up his own wooden sword feebly with both hands, the opponent changing his attack at the last moment swinging underneath for his stomach, Meikel panicked, bringing his guard downwards.
Too late – Thump!
“Come now, Meikel! You will not eat till you block at least one of the attacks!”
The teacher, Hawk by name, raised a hand towards Meikel’s father, Garud, pleading his silence.
Garud was a proud man and took commands from none. If not for his wife’s sudden appearance and whispered promises, he may have strode over to the much older man and challenged him with his tremendously sized great axe, Garakta, himself. The two parents left the dusty training grounds, leaving Meikel and Hawk alone, but for two servants standing passively off to the side.
“On your feet, young master,” Hawk smiled. “Time waits for no man!”
“Why? So you can strike me once more?” The young boy stood, throwing his wooden sword to the ground defiantly. “Why should I fight? We have slaves for that!”
A moment passed, Meikel staring up at Hawk with his fists clenched and lips pursed. Something about Hawk’s casual stance, warm eyes and never-ending smile seemed to upset the student.
“The fires of anger will not temper steel.” Hawk chuckled to the mystified boy.
Hawk, in his early forties had spent the last two months playing this game with Meikel and ten months attempting to teach him the simple virtues and rules of self-defence, for a year ago Garud had approached Hawk after seeing Hawk handle a street gang attacking him, hiring him to teach his boy.
Hawk had asked only for food, water and a bed as payment, which Garud had first laughed at, thinking him jesting.
Meikel stomped over to the fake weapon then returned to his spot, standing half-heartedly.
“Ka stance.” Hawk instructed, raising his weapon to the spoken stand, the sword held in two hands at mid-height in front of his body. Meikel sighed, waited a moment then took up the stance.
“En guarde!”

–----------------

Lacey, Meikel’s babysitter, sat back in her rocking chair inside of the house, out of the heat. Her stomach was round from age, but her eyes alight with life. Like Hawk, she also wore an eternal smile – even in her sleep, so said.
Lacey took care of Meikel from bathing, feeding and seeing to bed to running after him on his wild runs around the huge compound and teaching him life values and had done so the last twelve years.
“Had fun?” She winked as Meikel stormed in with a dozen small bruises. Meikel went straight past her, who stood and followed after him, shaking her head and laughing to herself.
“Mother!” He called, groping at her dress as she lay comfortably on a lounger. “Send that horrible man away! He hurts!”
From across the way, his father let out a loud, boisterous laughter,
“Mayhap if you used your sword other than striking out at servants in anger, rather in defence, you might be able to block his strikes!”
Garud slapped his belly and ran a gloved hand across his rugged chin and bushy moustache, his chin bouncing in and out like a frog with every booming chuckle.
Meikel’s jaw dropped and he looked to his mother for support, who simply smiled, cooing to him with her ever-gentle voice,
“Don’t worry, Meikel. You will understand when you are older.”
Her smile may as well have been her own hand, stroking his face, as was the effect of her disarming his anger.
“Bah!” really is all he could say; for the entire world seemed to be pushing him to fight this old man they called Hawk.

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

Kulan found himself being forced to dress and exit the building for the training court. Kulan was a servant of the Meshadilius family in his early twenties.
Little Meikel had awoken him in the middle of the night and dragged him outside into the warm night, soft glow of the candles and quiet cricketing from the nearby fields.
“Ke…uhh…Ku stance!” Whispered Meikel, mistaking the Ka for Ku. Kulan was one of the pair of servants who oft watched Meikel train with the strange old man. He faced a tough decision. If he didn’t do as the Young boy said, he would be reported to Master Garud for upsetting the boy, which Garud did not appreciate and would probably have him flayed. On the other hand, if he hurt Meikel, he would face the same punishment. And once more, if he did let Meikel win, the boy would know Kulan had let him, become upset, report him and have him flayed.
Kulan sighed and raised the wooden sword; its edges and corners smoothed over so it looked more like a curved bat with a small hand-guard.
Kulan stepped forward, pushing his sword up before the step, and then following with a downward strike. Meikel rose his sword to intercept then shoulder bashed his opponent, which at a later age would be more effective. Kulan acted as if he were indeed at a later age and stumbled backward. Meikel followed after him, kicking poor Kulan flat on his back.
They stepped back into position, bowed, and then took up the Ka stance once more.
“En guarde!” Meikel called.
This time, Kulan struck down with the sword, Meikel faking the defence, following to intercept Kulan’s side strike – which had caught him previously. Kulan’s defence was open and they paused as if their joints had suddenly frozen, as Meikel took a moment to remember the next move.
His memory clicked into place and he ran the opponents sword outward, reversing its previous direction, and sliding it around, leaving Kulan off balance. He stumbled past Meikel as he took a step out of the way and gave Kulan an over-head chop with his sword along his spine – a blow that would cause quite a bit of damage.

From a darkened window stood a hidden figure, his arms crossed in his long robe, his face hidden but for his warm smile. Hawk was amused.

**Sorry i'm late to post Chapter 1! I was making pancakes!**

**Part I
Childhood Memoirs**

**I – Childs play**

After spending an hour of midnight training with Kulan every day for a month, Meikel felt supremely confident in the Swordplay of Ka. Of course, Master Hawk had warned him several times, through stories, of the fall of giants to the temptation of arrogance and over-confidence.
And so, the master and the apprentice stood opposite each other, wooden swords in hand.
“En guarde!” Called Hawk. Neither moved.
The soft wind lulled quietly, brushing against ferns and sparse grassy tufts on the sandy grounds. Hawk’s bountiful deep brown hair, touched by age, brushed against his face slightly.
Still, the young one did not move.
How impressive, Hawk thought. It seems my teachings are finally taking effect on the boy.
Meikel stood absolute, not even moving the slightest to remove his own hair from his eyes.
Soon enough though, the impatience of youth overtook him, driving him forth with an overhead slice. Hawk blocked the sword and thought to end it quickly, striking him with a sidelong strike. He did so, to find Meikel hopping backwards and thrusting on with his sword. Hawk stepped to the left and brought his sword back, slapping away the lousy attack. Meikel flipped the sword over in his hand using the momentum of the slap to catch it easily back in it’s original handling. The two distanced from each other and waited once again, the break drawing a clapping and agreeing murmurs from the family.
This time, Hawk thought it prudent to test Meikel’s defence techniques. He stepped forward quickly, thrusting forward, drawing back, overhead chopping, drawing back and thrusting once more. Every attack, designed to be slower than what would be expected in a real fight, was slapped away easily, Meikel setting Hawk on his heels with an unexpected self-designed retort, rather than slapping away the last thrust, he side stepped and slid along Hawk’s exposed right flank, his arm still extended. Meikel’s sword met Hawk’s right hip lightly.
“You do not fight me full-hearted, Master Hawk,” he commented.
“You learn fast. You must be taking extra lessons with the mirror, hm?” Hawk sent him a wink to let him know of his unveiled secret. The reply he gave, he noticed, had caused Kulan to shift his weight from one leg to another uncomfortably.
Meikel winced and held his sword against Hawk still for a moment longer, then withdrew to his Ka position.
Hawk held his own weapon at bay and instead placed it in an alien position, “Jitehru stance!”
So shocked was he, that Meikel nearly fell over.

“He is beginning to take heart in these lessons.”
Garud nodded, his bunched arms crossed over his strong, bare chest. “And how long will it take before he is taught in swordplay?”
“A year and he should be able to master the basics of all seven stances, along with the principles. Two years more for his muscles to develop properly.”
Garud simply nodded passively once more.
“To be honest, he is a very determined individual and he learns quickly. The Ka stance took myself twice as long as he. He has picked up the basics, and a self-designed counter, in the matter of two months.”
The two stood still and quiet, minutes passing, before Garud uncrossed his arms and leaned on the balcony next to Hawk and stared out at the blood red sunset before them, beyond the structures of the city, beyond the tall and thick walls of Tokas, beyond the farmer’s fields and furthermore beyond the great forest.
“As a child of a powerful family, he should be able to boast a skill of some stature. At least this way, he learns to defend himself as well… these are dangerous times, and I suspect darker days ahead.”
“It’s true,” Hawk agreed, shaking his head solemnly. “The empire is crumbling underneath itself.”
“Politicians.” Spat Garud.

“Good Morning young master,” Said Lacey as she shook his shoulder gently with her forever warm smile. “T’is to be a beautiful day this day. I believe Madam Ishitaka wishes to take the family out to the forest for a trip also, now won’t that be fun?”
Meikel simply groaned and scratched at the air lazily in her direction, then rolled over. Lacey nearly laughed aloud.
“Breakfast will be ready soon, young master.”
The women patted his shoulder once more then left him alone to his double bed.
Meikel’s room was large by even castle standards; his bed had four long smoothed posts on each corner, which extended upwards to support four beams, each beam having a transparent red sheet hanging to the floor.
The bed was against the centre of the north wall.
Floor-to-ceiling windows spanned the entire east wall, being a meter wide each - a wooden beam of five inches separating every doorframe-like window. There too, red sheets were blown softly into the room by the cool winds.
The South wall was packed with draws and wardrobes, pictures and decorative masks whilst the west supported the sliding double-doors entrance.
The great sun crawled upwards across the huge, clear expanse of the sky; it’s light reaching and licking at Meikel’s exposed face, burning through his eyelids and stinging his eyes.
He let out another moan and grumble, sinking below the thick red duvet.
A quiet pattering noise echoed down the corridors from the staircase, quickly growing louder as it became a thudding on the wooden floors. A small form, tinted a red colour from the curtains, appeared in the open doorway.
“Brudda!” Called a small voice. “Wakey, wakey Brudda! Time to wake Brudda! The crows will peck out your eyes, thinking you dead if you sleep any longer!”
The younger boy, one who has seen about five winters, suddenly bounded across the room, crashed into the foot of Meikel’s bed, clambered on top, then began bouncing wildly, chanting ‘Brudda! Brudda!’
“San, go away! It’s only sunrise! Have you been eating red berries again?”
“Ya, ya, ya!”
“Mother said you shouldn’t eat those,” Meikel moaned, sinking furthermore under his sheets. “They make you too excitable…”
“Young masters; breakfast is ready!” Called Lacey from downstairs; Sanche seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye, the room suddenly calm once more.
With a resigned sigh, Meikel flipped his legs out of bed slowly, even letting out a yawn and a long, long stretch. He pulled on his knee-length toga of pure white roughly, and then exited his room.
“About time you got up sleepy head,” greeted his father from the head of the table, brother and mother alongside him on the oversized, polished wood dining table.
Meikel scratched at his head once more, sniffing the air.
“Sleepy head? It’s barely past night.”
“Sit, Meikel. The cooks have made a fine breakfast for us, a shame you would not savour its warmth whilst it is still.”
Meikel sat at his chair in the table, opposite his father then stirred the bowl in front of him with a spoon.
“Oats, noodles and vegetables?”
“With our cook’s special sauce,” winked his mother.
“Where is Hawk? Doesn’t he usually eat with us?”
“He chose to eat in the garden today.”
“Meditation or sorcerer tricks,” finished Garud, grumbling lowly.
A thousand images of magic and awesome sword battles filtered through Meikel’s mind as he ate his breakfast that morn.

In truth, Hawk had found a book in the family’s library that he was quite intrigued with, so he chose to eat in the peace of the garden, whilst reading.
This certain book was filled with all sorts of legends and myths about long-lost warriors, long-ruined cities and long-forgotten truths.
A rare tome indeed.
Time passed uneventfully, Hawk eating away at his breakfast contently, legs crossed, tome on a table barely off the ground – to keep it clean of dirt if nothing else.
Hawk finished his meal and pushed it off to the side, out of the way; it scraped slightly against the almost-smooth stone slab, warmed by the rising sun.
Time passed quickly for the man as he became more and more pulled into the tome, following one legend after another. If he had bothered to look up during this time, the sun would slow its pace, skidding to normal speed.
“Master Hawk…we are leaving momentarily,” cooed a servant in a peach and white maid’s dress.
“I will come soon,” he replied without looking up.
“Yes master Hawk.”

**Chapter II – Rhaal-turr and magic**

“Ah, here he is. Everyone ready?”
“Yup,” chimed Meikel and Sanche. Meikel and Sanche got into the carriage next to their mother and Lacey, whilst Garud and Hawk got on horses. The servants rode smaller, less spectacular horses – lesser-breds.
The carriage and horses tumbled along, mainly crossing expansive fields with their long grass and forests with their tall oaks in full birth, a summery glow mystifying it all.
“Here looks nice,” called Ishitaka out of the window, drawing the carriage to an abrupt stop.
The two men looked around, scanning the area. They were in the forest, next to a small stream and a clearing next to the road.
“Indeed,” mumbled Garud. “We will settle here then. Kulan, Troy; unpack our things. Jade, help the mistress and her children out of the Carriage.”
The three servants quickly jumped from their pony-sized horses and carried out his orders.
Jade cracked the door open, which nearly pushed her right over onto her back as it swung open and two forms dived out and began running in circles on the clearing, one chasing the other.
Ishitaka and Lacey were helped out of the carriage, which the driver then pulled out of the road and onto the clearing. Ishitaka crouched down to her boys.
“Now remember boys, this is your first day out of the city, isn’t it? There are certain rules to being out in the country. The first is, don’t go to far! We don’t want to lose you now, do we? And the second is to stay safe.”
“Got it, mother,” replied Meikel. “Can we go now?”
Ishitaka smiled warmly, then nodded. Meikel ran off laughing, calling for his younger brother, and enticing Sanche to catch him.
Sanche hopped a couple of times, over excited, then chased after Meikel.
The two began weaving in between the adults, running around the carriages, dancing between trees and leaping over the stream.
“Beautiful dears…Lacey, will you keep an eye on them?”
“Of course, my lady,” Lacey bowed her head then kept within so-many meters of the children; which meant a lot of moving around for her.
Satisfied, Ishitaka turned back to Garud, who was standing next to the road, chatting casually with Hawk.
“I do not believe the Trei stand is perfect, it has many weaknesses in its defensive kata, but I wouldn’t say it’s the worst.”
“Would you be fair enough to show me these holes that are in my defence?” Hawk challenged, Garud cracked a warm smile, then reached for his axe.
“Mayhap not today, Garud? Would a day of no violence really be that bad?” Ishitaka asked, grabbing his wrist.
“T’is my fault, Lady Ishitaka. I was the challenger.”
“Nay, nay! I started the argument.”
The two paused for a moment, then burst out in laughter, slapping each other on the shoulder and sat down on the laid-out blanket for the food.
Ishitaka looked over to Lacey, who in turn shrugged,
“Men,” she laughed.

Hours passed, the adults talking, the servants serving, the children playing and everybody eating.
At some point of the day, Garud was flaunting his strength for entertainment by lifting rocks nearly as big as him.
All seemed well, till a horseman appeared out of the trees, speeding along the road.
Garud turned his head, noticing the oblivious children sitting in the road, clapping each other’s hands playfully. Terror struck him; he dropped the rock hastily – landing on his toe painfully.
Garud could not hope to reach the children before the horseman, so he grabbed a nearby rock the size of a child’s head and threw it at the horse.
The rock struck the horse squarely on the temple, knocking it unconscious. It stumbled over itself, legs tangled.
The horse crashed down, Meikel hopping out of the way, the horse skidding to a stop where he had been sitting.
A hooded man stumbled to his feet, rubbing his head painfully.
The horseman wore poor leather armour and a felt hood that was worn low, revealing only his yellow teeth and stubbly chin. He pulled out his sword, yelling at the man who just downed his only horse – which had taken quite a raid to win.
Nine more forms appeared form the brush.
“Ambush,” mumbled Hawk as he calmly made his way to Garud’s side.
“We are surrounded.”
“Children, come hither,” called Ishitaka. “Stay by Lacey and the servants.”
“But I can fight, too!” Argued Meikel.
“Not now! This is not the time for arguing. Stay here.”
The servants surrounded the children, facing outwards, Ishitaka, Garud and Hawk doing likewise in a wider triangle to them. Garud pulled out Garakta from his back,
“Come then! Your mothers are sore eyes for a trollkin!” He taunted, scoffing back laughter at his own genius.
Hawk unsheathed his true sword – a hiltless thing, suited for one and two-handed combat. The handle looked as if made from the gum of a canine, black and shapeless – yet an effective grip.
The blade was slightly curved, ending in a sharp point and perfectly un-notched; it looked as if had not experienced a single combat – yet it had seen many beyond count.
Its name was Rhaal-turr, Ancient for Dragon Tooth.
Hawk dug his feet in and posed the sword with one hand, holding it out wide and to the back in one hand.
Ishitaka unsheathed her own blade, hidden deep in her dress. The hilt was a black-stained, leather-wrapped wooden grip, the cross-point of the same fashion, but made of steel, rather than wood.
The blade was curved and short, known as a Wakizashi.
Ishitaka threw her robe to the floor, revealing her self a pair of puffy-legged shorts with a tight ending at the knee, elbow-length shirt with a long V-neck, black leggings and sandals.
Three men charged on at Garud, who threw his axe in a wide arc, the bandits hopped back in unison, then charged headfirst, thinking the giant’s defence open.
Following the momentum of the axe, he swung around with his foot – kicking one squarely in the face, throwing him to his back.
As Garud came around, he raised his axe side-ways, blocking the two swords easily and then punched out at them quickly with a clenched fist.
Three blades came down on Ishitaka, all coming from different angles. She dodged the, hopping backwards, left and right, then followed quickly by stabbing out with her shortsword, drawing a gash of blood on a bandit’s forearm; then withdrew.
Again and again she danced away from their strikes, striking out whenever a bandit became open or too close – which was often.
Hawk faced off against three men also, along with the leader felled from the horse. The leader came on first, Hawk simply sidestepping and slashing at his back.
As soon as the bandit had gone too far, he had reversed his own longsword in hand, placing it behind his back at an awkward angle, blocking the deathly strike.
With Hawk’s back to the remaining three, they charged on eagerly – only to run into an invisible wall painfully.
Meikel gasped and the Teacher laughed as the three men began to feel around, finding themselves encased in an invisible box.
Hawk disappeared from view. A slight scrape on the floor from behind made the bandit leader jump around to face the invisible man – only to receive a sword strike from behind, into his spine.
Hawk became visible as soon as he had struck, a short pause and a quick twist was all he needed to finish him, before pulling the weapon out.
“Look away, children!” Hawk ordered, turning his attention back to the panicking bandits. Meikel and Sanche covered their eyes; the blindness supported by the shoulders of old Lacey.
Hawk raised a hand towards the trapped men; then clasped his hand closed. The invisible box struggled against the solidity of the men’s bones as it slowly imploded.
The invisible box quietened the screams of the doomed men.
Meikel slowly opened his eyes and looked around.
Mother, Father and teacher all held bloody weapons, surrounded by three corpses each – exception of teacher, who had one corpse and a large, thick red dust cloud settling nearby.
Ishitaka crouched down and wiped her bloody sword clean on the dead man’s clothes. She sheathed the cleansed shortsword, and then stood.
“Let’s go home, Garud.”

_**Chapter III – Silence is Golden**_

“How you doin’, son?” Asked Garud as gently as he could, entering Meikel’s bedroom.
Ishitaka and Garud had agreed to speak to the children, for their minds would surely be confused at the least from the battle the previous day.
Not only was it their first encounter with the outside world, but also their first encounter with people from outside of their home.
Meikel shrugged.
“Why did they attack us?” Meikel asked, staring down at his combating fingers.
“Not everybody in this world are the same as us, some people don’t have the luxuries as we do – actually; a lot of people don’t. We are a lucky family,” Garud explained, crouching down in front of his eldest son.
“Sadly, this world seems to revolve around money, and because of that, some people are willing to kill, murder, others for it. Do you understand?”
“Yes, father,” Meikel nodded, looking at this great man whom he idolized.
It was only now that Garud saw Meikel’s tears, and in those tears, Garud recognised something he had not since he was a child himself.
Innocence. The innocence of a child.
Garud had spent most of his life in battle, killing in the name of his country, before settling down with his earned riches and family. In all those years, he had forgot how saddening it was that people should kill each other. Meikel launched himself forward, clinging to his father, Garud in turn embracing him.
“Remember Meikel, killing is not to be enjoyed, you should avoid it at all costs,” Garud pulled his son away at arms length,
“For what is the weight of gold, contested with blood?”

“How did it go?” Ishitaka asked nervously, her husband sitting next to her in one of the many comfortable rooms of the estate.
“It went well. He will heal, and I believe I have taught him a valuable lesson. How is Sanche?”
“I’m not sure, he seems much quieter than his usual self.”
“He will be alright. Just give him time.”
Ishitaka smiled, clasping Garud’s huge hand with both of hers.
“You looked good in that outfit,” he laughed. “You should wear it more often, eh?”
“I’d say the same to you, but you seem to be half naked most of the time anyway!”
The two shared a drink that night; both recalling long ago memories of when they first met, before retiring to their bedroom – but not sleeping for a while longer.

“Today I will show you the Kayan stance, the art of hidden offence.”
“Hidden offence?”
“Let me demonstrate.”
Hawk called for Kulan to take up arms. The servant immediately hopped down the foot or so drop to the dusty floor of the Training Yard and grabbed the nearby wooden sword.
“Take up an offensive stance of your choosing, Kulan.”
“Yes sir.” Kulan withdrew his sword-club hybrid weapon forwards in both hands, Meikel recognising it as the Ka stance.
Hawk placed his sword in front of himself, leaning his hand lazily on the grip’s end, the blade pointing perfectly vertically down. He placed one foot forward, his toe touching the bottom of the blade’s tip.
“En guarde!” He yelled and Kulan charged forward almost immediately.
A few feet between the two dualists, Hawk arched his foot forward causing his toe to flick the blade up. Hawk’s hands twisted and rose slightly, twirling the blade upwards into a horizontal position. His arms were bent heavily, one up and the other backwards. He pushed the weapon forward, striking directly at Kulan’s stomach – an attack that would leave a man in half.
“Thank you, Kulan,” smiled Hawk, Kulan bowing and replacing the weapon then returning to his spot under the small overhanging of the wall, offering glorious shade.
“This is an effective stance when faced by an over-confident opponent; deadly even.”
“I understand, master Hawk.”
“Good. Grab your sword and we will begin.”

“Meikel, come hither,” Hawk bade, Meikel curiously gathering to the tutor. It was the end of the swordsman lesson and time for feeding.
“You are thirteen tomorrow, are you not?”
“That’s true, master Hawk. Tenth of the twentieth Phoenix.”
“Well, your body begins to go through changes at this age, and gradually over the next number of years, you will change from child to man. Your father and I both agree that you will be able to take on another subject alongside swordplay.”
“Subjects? What other subjects?”
“Battle Tactics.”

A full moon passed overhead, shining white far and wide across the land, revealing a luscious green world of rolling hills passed the great forest of singing trees in the soft wind.
In the vast city of the Tokas, winding streets split into four sections; A merchant’s quarter of closely packed shops, vertically tiered houses, striped overhangings, long market stalls and wide plazas.
Another quarter is the slums, a dreadful place of darkness and shade; murderers, thieves, whores, starving babes, shabby homes from scraps of wood and trash, the streets themselves mostly filled with human waste.
The third quarter is that of the royal family, a place of sparking streets and gardens, the beautiful castle of Ogard looming overhead with all of its glory – soaring towers, bridges crisscrossing between doorways, all leading to a central tower of wide girth and eight sides. In the centre of the Temple district was a great statue, ten tall men high, of pure gold – a statue of the first and foremost god, Kakarus, ‘god of all things’ in the elder tongue.
When the city was young, this statue was at the very centre of Tokas.
The last sector of the sprawling, circular city was the Middle to High-class people, people such as the Meshadilus family. Not as stuck up as the Royals, but definitely not as poor as the slums. Large homes and slaves to do their labourus every-day work.
It was upon this shining night that Meikel found the urge to go to the bathroom, which was effectively on the other side of the complex.
Out of his bed he crawled and along the corridors he crept. Light from the moon stretched freely along these corridors, for all the sliding doors, also serving as windows, had been fully opened.
The year was in the middle of the summer, the twentieth Phoenix; therefore the nights were near-unbearably hot.
If his father caught him creeping around after dark, a harsh beating he would receive for breaking the house rules.
So quietly did he sneak around the home, up and down stairs, across the inner garden and through the second half of the home, that the only sounds made was the quiet crunching of pebbles underfoot outside and the slight creak of an older wooden board.
As Meikel came to the kitchen, a voice echoed, freezing him to his pose.
A few moments passed before he recognised the voice not aimed at him.
“We cannot stay here,” it said. “War comes to our doorstep soon, and we cannot hope to survive it, if we were to stay.”
Meikel recognised the voice of that of his mother, coming from the kitchen. He knew he should leave, he knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop and he definitely knew he was going to get in big trouble if he stayed.
Meikel flattened against the wall and listened.
“The Yagra would not dare to attack Tokas! Tokas is the most important city of the state,” Retorted his father’s voice.
“Exactly. They cannot incite any more wrath from the Rosan Empire, so why not attack the capital? Such a deathly blow.”
“Let them come! My axe shall bathe in dragon blood!”
“Dragon?” Gasped Meikel, confusion sprouting. His mistake was obvious when Meikel heard his father grunt, somewhat surprised, as his head popped around the corner.
A huge hand followed, picking Meikel up by the scruff of his silken pyjamas, pulling him clear off the ground and bring their faces at the same height.
“How long have you been eavesdropping, boy?” He growled.
“Not long, father!” Meikel stuttered, “Just something about a Yagra attacking Tokas!”
Garud’s eyebrow rose, his scowl slightly reduced.
“Honest!”
“Then what are you doing, creeping around?”
“I was going to the bathroom, father!”
Garud stared at his son for a moment, then burst out in laughter.
“You make the Yagra sound like a singular monster,” he explained. “The ‘Yagra’ are a people, wildmen of the northern plains, dragonblood mixed in their own. They ride huge lizard monsters, four-legged creatures as fast as a ship in full wind.
And when their prey on ground is ineffective to ground assault, they send in humongous creatures that fly and breathe fire; giants of the sky.”
Meikel was visibly shaking in pure terror of such creatures.
“These creatures stalk the shadows!” Garud whispered harshly, inciting an untouchable fear. “So don’t let me catch you outside of your bed after nightfall again!”
Garud let go of Meikel, who scrambled away, back to his bed, where he spent the rest of the night completely awake till sunrise.

_**IV – First Impressions**_

Several years past somewhat uneventfully, detailing only as how Meikel mastered level three in swordplay and huge parties thrown for birthdays, friends and family bleeding from the land for the events.
Meikel, once thirteen, is now sixteen and has matured incredibly. His younger brother, Sanche, had grown to eight and the adults had grown that little more so wrinkly, but never so blunted by age.
The date was the Twenty-third Leviathan, the month of the rain.
And named rightly-so, for thirty-one days and thirty-one nights, it rained constantly. Heavy rain every day for an entire month surely was a depressing sight, as it was for Meikel as he stared outwards from under the stone overhanging of the porch to his home.
He watched Sanche as he went on one of his wild adventures, as he called them. The young boy was crawling around the front garden, a place nearly half as long as the house itself, a wooden sword in hand battling against the forces of evil.
The rains battered down as heavy a rainstorm as ever seen, but Sanche was dry. Two eras past, a wizard called Hagley had once created a magical invention and he named it a “Rain Ring”. A magical ring that protected the wearer from rain by summoning a ball of perpetual warmth around the user, water disappearing when it met the barrier.
He noted that it is wise to use this in conjunction with a flying spell; otherwise one walking across a sea could find himself in for a very long fall!
Yet, if one were to walk into the sea from the beach, gradually on a path downwards underwater, one could simply walk the bottom of the sea, as if it were land – downfall to this being one could suffocate!
Meikel was pulled from the memory of History Class as he heard the shrill call of his mother.
“Yes, mother?” He asked as he arrived in the dining room, noting his father’s presence with a raised eyebrow.
“We want you to get some combat experience.”
“I am taking you to join the Military and that’s final,” his father added.
These pair had been trying to get him into the Military since his sixteenth season.
Meikel took in a breath as he opened his mouth to rant, but his father silenced him with an upraised hand.
“Don’t make this any harder than it need be, son.”
Meikel looked down at his bare feet for a moment, thinking it over. He wasn’t going to be able to avoid it this time.
Meikel looked back up as his father stood straight, up from his leaning on the wall.
“Come on.”
Meikel had never heard his father’s voice so quiet; it still held the coarseness that was acquired after years of shouting, though.

Half an hour later, Meikel stood behind his father in the rain, comforted by one of the family’s, not-so-cheap, vast collection of magical items, the Rain Ring.
The pair had momentarily arrived at the grand Garrison of Tokas, a building of formidable size.
“Greetings, soldiers. My son wishes to join the Garrison,” Garud greeted. The guards looked at the rich-boy with a slight, well-hidden sneer.
“Go on in,” one of them stated. “The nobleman will greet you.”
Garud nodded his thanks, and the pair entered the Redstone building.
The iron arch doors slammed shut behind them, silencing the rain effectively. The entry hall was bare brick walls with long horizontal tapestries, detailing grand battles, dotted on either side of the room.
Two smaller hangings were on either side of the door ahead of them, detailing the emblem of the Rosan Empire - a rose, the background of black and white split diagonally.
A man dressed in finery came striding down the corridor towards them,
“Welcome to Fort Tichit, I am Sir Hipoen III. I keep an eye on things here for the king, how may I help you?”
Meikel felt his father prod him forward,
“I… I want to join the armies of the Rosan Empire, s-sir.”
The noble let out an odd squeek of delight, “Oh, most excellent! A new recruit! Follow me young one, I will take you to Commander Sean.”
Meikel glanced to his father worried, Garud simply nodding to the man with a smile,
“I’ll wait here for you. Is that quite alright, Sir Hipoen?”
Sir Hipoen looked to the big man, and then nodded with a stupid smile. Hipoen cooed Meikel to follow him up the flight of stairs.
The stairwell was fashioned inside one of the square corner-towers, going up twenty steps or so, then turning a right-angle on the left. After an exhausting walk – one that did not seem to wipe the stupid smile from Hipoen’s face – a door was at the end of a short corridor, several others on the left and right.
“This tower is the commander’s,” mumbled the odd man, knocking on the door ahead.
A gruff voice called out, inviting them in.
The door creaked open and Meikel’s eyes went wide. The boy was expecting to see a grand throne room for a soldier so highly ranked, one whom seemed to be in charge here.
Instead of that though, the room was small and barely lit by a single window behind an intelligent-looking, well-shaven man.
“Commander Sean, we have a boy here wanting to join the army.”
Sean put down his quill and his eyebrow rose, higher still at the sight of the twig-armed lad.
“Indeed? You may leave, Sir Hipoen.”
The brightly coloured noble bowed and left, closing the creaking door once more. Sean leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands over his chest. An awkward silence followed.
Meikel wasn’t too sure how to react. Should he say something? Should he swear his allegiance there and then? Or leave? What was expected of him?
Suddenly, a spear shaft was flying at his face. Meikel dodged to the left, the shaft narrowly missing and blasting a hole clean through the door – causing a loud scream from the other side, followed by the sound of feet hastily running down the stairs.
“I can’t stand that indignant fool,” the commander said, running a hand through his cut-short hair.
“So, you want to join the army, do you? It seems we are in need of such in these dire times.”
Meikel merely nodded. Sean raised an eyebrow in response.
“What skills do you have, boy?”
“I have reached level three in swordsmanship, my lord. Trained since I was young.”
Sean’s second eyebrow rose, his pursed lips shuffling a little.
“Well, this I would like to see. Follow me.” Sean stood, crossed the room and began the journey to the courtyard, Meikel close behind.
At some point, Meikel’s father, a legend in the military, was invited along. Garud agreed.

Fort Tichit was the largest in the country, based in the capital as it was, it was also one of the oldest.
The training grounds themselves could fit a thousand and more soldiers, with ample room left to swing a long-spear.
Squads of heavily-armoured swordsman were being run around the grounds at a surprisingly high speed, considering their heavy armour – even their padding must be soaked through and therefore thrice heavy!
On the other end of the grounds, blindfolded archers were firing high into the sky – every single one of them hitting the mark over a hundred feet away, several of the arrows on the red-pointed target being split in half by following arrows.
“We have the mightiest armies in all the lands,” chuckled Commander Sean at Meikel’s gaping jaw. “Did you expect any less for the largest country?”
Meikel shook his head absently, watching another volley of arrows hitting the mark.
“Let’s see… level three, you say. Johan! Come hither!”
A young man, barely a year or two older than Meikel, separated from his unit and ran over to the commander and his two visitors.
“Sir!” He yelled, striking up a saluting statuesque form.
“This fellow here wishes to join us and I want you to test him. If you win the non-death duel, you and your unit shall have double rations for a week. If not, half for a week. Understood?”
“Yes sir!”
Meikel was tossed a sword – the first real sword he had ever held – and lifted it, gaining a feel for it’s weight.
Johan took a number of steps back, as traditional in a duel, then drew his sword and threw his other weapons and shield to the ground.
Meikel took a quick scan of the situation. His opponent was going to be desperate to win, but then again, he didn’t seem foolish nor over-confident. The soldier had taken up a Jitehru stance – a difficult one to master, and moreso difficult to beat.
The sword was held in one hand and pointed behind, his other hand empty but balancing the sword’s weight by holding it out bent in front of his body.
His legs were set and bent, one in front of the other.
The main tactic of the Jitheru stance was to wait for the opponent to attack, spring out of the way with a sidestep, twist fully around in a slight jump and use the momentum to cause a devastating slash across the back.
An idea came to Meikel. He rested his sword’s tip on the ground, taking up the Hidden Offence stance, the Kayan.
Both of the viewers’ eyebrows rose, even a few nearby dualists paused their fight to watch.
The kayan and Jitheru stances were just not compatible for duelling against each other, seeing as both depended on the opponent to make the first move.
With the setting of both stances, Commander Sean called for the pair to begin, somewhat weakly in the face of the stand-off.
Neither moved.
Meikel’s tactic was simple. Johan was holding his heavy blade in the air. Meikel was resting his. To make it worse, Johan was holding his blade in an awkward twist.
Meikel was not.
After a couple of moments, Garud caught on, a huge grin spreading across his face in face of his perceptive son – followed by Sean’s raised eyebrows at the realization.
Johan’s army began to quiver, the lactic acid build-up in his arm beginning to burn, his teeth gritting. Johan was then next to realise his position.
Johan needed to act fast, and he did. His blade came around in a spin, replacing his stance with Trei – an attack where as he would charge and drag his sword upwards in an arch. Seeing as Meikel’s sword was vertical, he would be unlikely to bring his sword horizontal in defence.
And so, the confident Johan could nearly taste the double rations as he charged with a hoarse scream, his blade dragging upwards to strike… nothing.
Meikel had spun to the side, using his set feet for a quick push at the last moment, his sword come around to slash at the soldier’s back.
Johan realised this a split second later, and used his own sword’s momentum, as it was coming upwards, and dragged it overhead behind him and over his back, just in time to meet the clang of Meikel’s sword.
Johan turned around quickly, manoeuvring his blade so it barely moved, then dropped it’s angle and flipped it in his palm, then attacked Meikel with a sideways slap.
The noble-boy comprehended his disastrous position as the blade came across – so he simply ducked under the blade, then came back up on the open soldier with his sword horizontal, pushing it up as he would of done with the second part of a Kayan stance in the first place. The blade was an inch from his throat before Garud and Sean burst into applause, ending the duel.
Johan backed away and bowed to the younger, but greater, swordsman.
A few of the surrounding duelists nodded to each other in appreciation, then continued their own duel.
“Impressive, young Meikel. Lord Garud, I would be happy to take this one aboard.”
Meikel’s smile was pure as he felt the approving look from his father.

[HawkStorm95]

Yay!! I get to be in the story (kinda). lol i am the only one who is not in the military.

[maxac]

Atleast you're not the 5 year old annoying little bro…

[azkanan]

For now, I'm going to post the story via chapter every day, or twice a day, till we can get to some exciting parts.
I don't want to give you everything I have so far! It's only 3 chapters, so we should be playing by tomorrow… too late to write now anyway, I need sleep :D.

[HawkStorm95]

your right… but it could be fun :)

[azkanan]

@[IG:

> HawkStorm link=topic=39335.msg382135#msg382135 date=1235432195]
> your right… but it could be fun :)

I found a countdowner. How cool is that?

EDIT: Feedback? :D

[HawkStorm95]

Well i think you use the chars names to often. use he/she and him/her. but other then that i like it.

[maxac]

Pretty much the same thing as hawk, but i'd like to add somthing to it: @[IG:

> HawkStorm link=topic=39335.msg382148#msg382148 date=1235433235]
> Well i think you use the chars names to often. use he/she and him/her. but other then that i like it. And i cant wait to see mmore!!

[Sylexus44]

Can I be Sylexus? Just a random civilian who's completely overpowered but doesn't use his epic power whatsoever (he's too lazy) he likes spicy foods and ramen and dislikes effort and energy (just sort of a background or comic relief character) He also dislikes being called Syl and when he's called that he explodes with the force of a million A-bombs.

[Hippoman789]

Sylexus, that sounds way too stupid.

[Sylexus44]

@[BS:

> Hippoman link=topic=39335.msg382283#msg382283 date=1235437689]
> Sylexus, that sounds way too stupid.

Says the insane sane one

[Hippoman789]

indeedly.
anyway, so when do we start?

[azkanan]

Probably end of today at some time. (late GMT).

[azkanan]

Updated!

Chapter 1.
**I'll post Chapter 2 in…2 hours. :)**

EDIT:
New Character Slot! **Yagra General**

[azkanan]

Updated: Chapter 2!

Chapter 3 in…3 hours ;D

[azkanan]

**Updated: Chapter 3!**

Alright so, we have our first choice!

Hawk: In the next chapter, Meikel is to be sent to the school of either combat or magic. Garud and Ishitaka are 50/50 on it, so it's up to Hawk to choose which subject he should difer to. Make your choice. :)
The leaders of Magic and Combat can try and get Hawkstorm to say which subject Meikel should follow! Because, if he does not follow a subject, the characters of that subject will probably not be seen for quite a while.

_You have an hour to make your decision._

[Warconn]

wow, looks really good, so far, nice job cant wait to be part of it ;) am i the unnamed general

[Hippoman789]

Ok so im supposed to try to convince hawk.
(i just got back form school so im sorry if im late)
–-------

(umm i guess im supposed to say stuff?)
(Maybe....talk to hawk?) (So i shall)
He should be choosing combat because it will teach him to parry swords and wear armor which will keep him alive in the world.
(good? Im not sure...?)

[maxac]

@[BS:

> Hippoman link=topic=39335.msg382890#msg382890 date=1235509736]
> Ok so im supposed to try to convince hawk.
> (i just got back form school so im sorry if im late)
> –-------
>
> (umm i guess im supposed to say stuff?)
> (Maybe....talk to hawk?) (So i shall)
> He should be choosing combat because it will teach him to parry swords and wear armor which will keep him alive in the world.
> (good? Im not sure...?)

You could have been more convincing than that, but i'll try to give it a try too…

Umm...  He should cose magic cuz...  It teh pwnz??

[Hippoman789]

Nope, Combat. we got armies. theres only a few magicians. they usually get killed too. in a freak accident. or in a way like the salem witch hunts.

[maxac]

Theres very little magicians, you're right… that's why we need more people!! The extinction of magicians could be a terrible loss to humanity :P

[Hippoman789]

Nope. Less witches more people.

[maxac]

Me no witch, basturd!! Im a magician (or sorceror, can remember lol) and thats not the same thing…

I don't like black cats XD

[HawkStorm95]

hmmm…. interesting decision... i choose....

combat

(sorry i took so long to answer, i went to the zoo and stayed there for along time)