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Post by Vizier Malik Al-Zahhak on Sept 8, 2013 21:16:12 GMT
Upon first glance, high noon was nearly a relieving sight to see to those who resided within the keep walls... This would be the case, had the moon not also been in the same sky as the sun. From the balcony he so boldly self proclaimed, the Vizier remained with his gaze peered ever so intently towards the bright sky. Soon within minutes would the face of this land coat itself into utter darkness, if not for a brief moment. To Malik however, the brief moment would consist of several life times all dispensed into one goblet drank by a single ruler who saw his once proud empire upon the pique of this world. And yet, now his avert from said goblet and sky briefly to slowly pan down upon the smoke and fires that flashed just as brilliantly as the sun from several directions of the city. Insignificant to some being in more peasant locations but aflame nevertheless. Further did his eyes begin looking down around the city as he then also focused his elven ears at both sight and sound of the angered revolt legions of peons and villagers alike presented while guards held them back barely from the tip of their swords. Whilst in other districts did these same 'low lives' begin making their own initiatives to start taking over guard posts and locations. Their feats however met in vain, as sticks and stones certainly do not fair well against armor and blades... Yet the Vizier continues to keep looking down at his own courtyard before his eyes finally stop. Across the keep yard while guards continued to pour out of the keep to meet the resistances in full force, a stubby bearded man comes running out of just as quickly clutching several pocketfuls of currency. As he ran he opened his coat to count many rolls of stacked parchments he stored in them were still secure within his person. Quickly the little man flew from the castle and slid under whatever wagon he could to avoid most of the chaos and rabble of the city's downfall. The goblet Melik held in his clawed hand shook near violently as he clenched the chalice to a degree gentle strands of red began seeping into the wine itself! Before he simply placed the cup on the railing of the balcony and took steps back from the cup. His pupils focusing quite eerily as he stared back outward past the city and the sky still with the same expression and hands laced behind his back in a formal manner.
There... did the Vizier gaze upon what was to be the pantheon's treason toward himself, and quite possibly his downfall. From several directions, lines and regiments of armed men charging their way into Yesad's direction, to the keep, to the Vizier. And above them? The absence of the entire sun cloaked by the blackness that was the moon, only to gaze at the corona of retribution that now shined upon this land.
"..." No words could be formed from the elf's mouth. Only a few paces backward, and his hands placed on both sides of the curtains leading to the balcony as he shut them slowly in front of his wide, wild eyed, red gaze.
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Qi'sa al-Quatir
Yesadi
The fires of rebellion are meant to be stamped out.
Posts: 52
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Post by Qi'sa al-Quatir on Sept 10, 2013 1:53:35 GMT
:Earlier in the Day: The morning sun had risen over the crest of the horizon, but for the Amir, the day had been long since the start. Outside of Yesad, the influence of the tyrant vizier was negligible, with more people standing in shocked horror than support. The forces from the four tribes had begun gathering in the small village to the west of the capital, and even now the final preparations were being made. Qi'sa had been laboring in the early morn, before the rise of the glorious sun. A hammer in her hand, she was pounding against an anvil, unconcerned with the noise waking those nearby. As it had turned out, little sleep was to be had by any the night before, the anticipation of the day's coming fight keeping minds stirring and at the ready. Outside the workshop, troops were already distributing what gear they could amid the incoming forces. Already, they had fallen back to gathering pitchforks, shovels for makeshift bludgeons, and hoes from local farms, and mining picks brought in from the Fihr dwarves. Some men were taking apart ox-carts, chopping the wood to smaller pieces, binding smaller bits around their limbs and torsos with twine, and using ropes to create makeshift handles to use the wood planks as shields. The turnout for the rebellion had been surprisingly strong, but they would need these numbers against the superior training and equipment of the elite guard.
With each strike of her hammer, cinders rippled upward into the air, dancing in an amber spiral. Qi'sa paused, sweeping a forearm across her damp brow, exhaling hard. Despite the toil, her heart pounded fast in her chest, anxious for battle. With a heavy grip, she dipped her metalwork into a cooling trough, an asp-like hiss rising with a billowing steam cloud. Looking outward, to the east, she determined this- her hardest worked piece, was the last one to make before leading the march.
"Captain!" She called out sharply, a crowd of nearby men pausing to look her way. They were little more than some Amwaal merchants, but they were dressed in crudely improvised gear, a much more official looking soldier standing in the center of them. Stopping the drill he was leading the men on- last minute techniques to try to make them survivable in the upcoming fray- the guard captain turned his attentions to her.
"Yes, Amir?"
"Have we heard word from the outlying guard deployments?" She said, surveying the scene. Already she felt a mixture of pity for the men who were going in unprepared and who would lose their lives, but also a swelling of pride that the spirit of Yesad touched them so dearly to make them volunteer such a sacrifice.
"They have yet to arrive, but the riders who informed them have returned. They should be with us shortly."
Qi'sa's eyes drifted upward. The sky still had enough haze that an outline was barely visible, hanging above, trailing towards the path of the sun, almost at the apex of the sky where Shama would be at the mid of the day. A surge of zeal flashed behind the commander's eyes, her hot blood pulsing harder in her veins.
"Start preparing ranks. As soon as they arrive, we begin the march on Yesad."
((Left this open so the guys in the explore parties have an ingress if they want to join in this thread))
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Post by Lector on Sept 10, 2013 18:05:23 GMT
Lector arrived at the outskirts of Yesad. It was a confusing sight, smoke emerged from within the city. The slums just outside the city walls were turned into an encampment filled with not only soldiers but armed citizens. They bustled around from shack to shack making sure everyone was ready. Their march was disheveled but their hearts resonated a simple purpose. It was more of an angry mob then an army. The drums of war shook the ground and made the sand dance. The mob moved forward with a single resolve.
The few guards still standing guard on the wall braced themselves, readied the hot oil. A man appeared from the west as the mob was ready to raid the city. One soldier emerged from the mob and spoke to the new arrival. They came to some sort of understanding and started marching west towards the local village.
The guards relaxed as the mob moved west. The mob looked back towards the wall and gave an unsettling stare, they gave an unspoken message we'll be back for you. The guards shook in fear. Lector followed the mob west as they quickly accepted him as one of them. He couldn't enter the city now anyways, the gate were down and they did not look like they wanted to let anyone in.
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Post by Vizier Malik Al-Zahhak on Sept 10, 2013 20:26:18 GMT
The drums of war and strife have never beat harder than they have over the city Yesad as they did now. Coincidentally, these very drum beats emulate a similar rhythm to that of the Vizier's own heart beat while he stood in deeper hesitation at the castle keep window to watch the chaos ensue. His eyes focused heavily on the city gate walls being the partial last line of total defense the Vizier had before his life would most definitely be in utter danger. By now, a good number of the Vizier's own guards and elites either rushed to the walls to defend them from the oncoming onslaught of tribal warriors lead by Amir of War and Defense outside the gates. While the others had simply abandoned their posts in front of the mad sorcerer rather than follow his ludicrous orders. This didn't bode well for the headsman who stood beside the throne looking upon the Vizier quite intently and frustration filling his senses. Seeing Malik pace and wring his hands in what could be deciphered as fear starting to lose his ultimate resolve. The elven male winced and cringed harder as he heard audible cracks toward the city gate while both bombs and batteries slammed audibly at the walls themselves... They would be breaching the city as they speak any second now.
"No.. this can not be... I... I refuse!" He panted as he sat himself down on the Sultan's throne and raked his claws against the armrest while he tried to come up with a scheme as quickly as he could! The gods would not get the best of him! He was the true ruler of this land!
"... My lord, they will storm this keep post haste within moments. A display of your 'utmost' brilliance would be most recommended on how you intend to stop them." the executioner suggested now gripping tightly on the handles of his scythe.
"My... brillance? Y-yes, yes of course they can not surpass or even comprehend a mind like mine! They are simpltons! They know not the greatness that seats in this very throne!" he blurts out with a slam of his fist while his left eye visibly twitches as he stands again with hands tied behind back.
"A just observation... but, What. Is. My. Lords. Will?" he demanded in clenched teeth glaring deeply at the elf who stammered and paced. As he demanded this explanation to be presented post haste both turned their head toward the balcony as the heard a thunderous crash from outside and hundreds of souls roaring in victory as they began the complete siege to Yesad in the swift hammer stroke of their intended justice... justice the Vizier knew they would not stop to seek until his life was forfeit.
"... Headsman! Go out there! Meet them on the streets and stop them!" He demanded waving his hand wildly as he barked the order.
"... Excuse me...?"
"YOU HEARD WHAT I SAID! ARE YOU JUST AS FOOLISH AND SIMPLE AS THE REST OF THE REBELS OUT THERE?! I SAID. GO OUT THERE. AND STOP THEM IN MY NAME!" he screamed maliciously pointing madly at the door getting utterly in the inquisitor's face baring his teeth of rage whilst doing so.
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Post by Grimm Scythe on Sept 10, 2013 21:02:47 GMT
"Oh sir. I really wish you hadn't ordered that. You are the fool, demanding the death of someone who only works as long as it benefits them. Ì have worked for you, and done your bidding only for as long as it is beneficial to me. And now, my liege, your reign must come to an end. The enemies you have fought so long to amass are battering down your doors, and my true liege, the mighty Iaozrael, has blessed me with this weapon. And blessed me with this chance."
Grimm's grip on Eclipse tightly, crouches and sprints towards the Vizier, pausing just infront and knocking him with the top of the shaft under the chin, knocking the Vizier off his feet. The Vizier clambers to his knees, "WHAT! YOU DARE TO QUESTION MY AUTHORIT..." The word is cut short. Grimm's scythe had swung and the deed was done. The Vizier's neck was opened, a spray of crimson washes over Grimm. Grimm raises his scythe, blocking the tsunami from striking his face. "Messy, but then again, it was necessary." Grimm steps back, cleans the blade of the scythe except for that little bit on the tip that never seems to come out, and stands at attention while praying to his God. "Oh fiend, your work is done, and I am grateful for this opportunity to prove myself as your servant. The hells purge you."
Grimm walks over to the throne. A crumbling remnant of the true glory it once held. Placing one hand on the armrest Grimm turns and sits, feeling the same seat of power so many men had felt before. But it was not for him. His place was as the right hand, not the head of state. "Ah, I guess that is them now" Grimm mumbles as he hears footsteps outside the grand doors. "I wonder what they'll make of this scene." Grimm see's something. The Vizier is still breathing. His chest continues to rise and fall, even missing half his neck. That complete ass. He had stabilize. Who takes stabilize. Well. I guess we can leave him for the raiders. It'll be funny to see what they do to him.
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Post by Lector on Sept 10, 2013 21:05:13 GMT
Lector didn't journey too far west before the forces consolidated. As if second nature to them, the citizens of Yesad filed into ranks along the soldiers. They stood battle ready just as any trained soldier. Lector walked towards the back he hoped to find someone he recognized to find out exactly happened. This was definitely a rebellion but against who?
The chanting grew louder as the rebels got ready prepared their assault. Lector could feel their blood-lust seeping into him from the ground. The army marched towards Yesad as the chanting continued as dusk sets in. Lector watched from the back as torches were lite. The dimming desert was soon filled with a sea of fire flowing towards the capital.
"Who's in charge here?" He asked, still unsure if they were friend or foe. His questions were ignored as the soldiers focused ahead at the only thing that mattered to them. When they neared the city the chanting come to a sudden stop as a horn was blown. The troops swiftly cleared out of the middle as a huge metal sphinx head moved through the ranks. The infamous siege weapon of Yesad, an unstoppable battering ram that was never met a gate it couldn't open. It's eye decorated with jewels easily mistaken for an art piece but the soldiers standing guard on the walls tonight knew the fearsome powers of the sphinx.
"We do not wish to damage our beloved city anymore" a man bellowed in the front. "Open the gate now so you don't have to break it!!" As if their salvation was in front of them, the guards moved quickly to open the gate and greet the assailants. They made apologetic gestures and were ignored by the army as they moved into the city. Some were even reunited with their family as they shared a moment of joy before they donned their battle face and marched together into the city.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 10, 2013 21:23:59 GMT
As the Rebellion hit full swing, Alim had managed to sneak out of the city. Fearing for his life, he hid his face under the guise of a traveling salesman. Anyone who would glance at Alim would not recognize the pompous and proud Amir that used to stroll around the city like a king. He did not go empty handed however, bringing whatever he can carry of documents,deeds,and a small bag of gold from the coffers. with these documents he hopes to gain the favor of the ruling power that is about to overthrow the mad elf. He plans to return a week after the rebellion had died down and use these documents to regain his old position
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Post by Lector on Sept 11, 2013 13:07:48 GMT
The rebels flowed into the streets. Many returned to their homes and reunited with their family. The garrison put up no resistance, and instead greeted the attackers with a salute before quickly joining their ranks. No one asked questions, everyone knew what was going on. A soldier was nice enough to fill Lector in on the details about the deranged Vizier taking over the throne. A foolish man who thought he could usurp a throne simply by sitting on it. The force splits up as many returned to their normal posts and attempted to return order to the city. A group of well armored soldiers still marched on towards the palace. Lector followed them, his expertise might be required. With blood lust filled eyes they stormed the palace, boots clicking on the granite floor as they marched. They took care as to not damage anything while they moved as their rage was meant for one elf only. They bursted into the throne room shocked. The evil cackling Vizier was no more than an opened bag of flesh now. His lifeless body laid on the floor as blood poured out of his neck.
Some subsided their rage as other let out a terrible scream. Their vengeance was denied, it was a hard fact to shallow. A glimmer of hope resurfaced as the Vizier's leg twitched. The soldier quickly rushed to his side with malicious intent. "We must save him!" one of them yelled "so that he may pay for what he has done." The Vizier's unconscious body shivers knowing what's to come.
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Post by Grimm Scythe on Sept 11, 2013 15:56:02 GMT
"Oh, hello over there. I see you're admiring my work. He seems to have stabilized, but his cut throat won't heal itself. You can tend to him in good time. Now, I hear you have stormed this city, and plan to take this crumbled leaders place. You are more than welcome to."
Grimm stands and steps to one side, waving his hand towards the throne. He holds onto his scythe, using it as to stand. His hair is slicked back in his ponytail, his forehead beading with sweat in the sun. His robes are still splattered with blood, which is nothing new.
"It is yours. I must say it is not as comfortable as it looks, them arms are rock solid. But alas, it is rude of me not to introduce myself. I am Grimm, head executioner in the citadel and current custodian of this throne until someone else takes it, which I presume is you? I offer no resistance, but the chance to keep my place as your headhunter. Far and wide I shall search for the enemies of the realm, and bring you whatever part of them you wish. No harm will fall upon you or your allies for as long as I can be allowed to act in this manner. Do you accept?"
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Post by Lector on Sept 11, 2013 16:34:55 GMT
The soldiers stood up surprised at the appearance of the executioner. They shuffled uncomfortably at the question and resumed stabilizing their prisoner.
"I don't like commitments." Lector responded staring intently at the new arrival. His eye never once looked at the throne, to him it was more of a prison than anything else. The executioner wore his blood stains with pride, these ones were fresh most likely the Vizier's blood. He twirled his scythe in one hand like a toy perhaps scanning the room for his next victim. Lector walked over to a table with golden ornate goblets and a jug of wine. He poured the blood red drink into two goblets and walked them over to Grimm.
"Was this your handy work?" he handed Grimm a goblet as he sipping from the other. He examined the executioner closer and attempted to judge the man's intentions.
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Qi'sa al-Quatir
Yesadi
The fires of rebellion are meant to be stamped out.
Posts: 52
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Post by Qi'sa al-Quatir on Sept 11, 2013 22:01:13 GMT
The fray had been quick and short lived; while few stood up against the incoming Yesadi countrymen, a handful of holdouts had put up resistance at the southern gate. Their morale didn't hold long, but they had been smart enough in their brief resistance to engage and fell some of the most capable soldiers. They had wisely targetted the biggest threats and traded more than evenly. This was what some of the senior officers had feared would be the case, as they had advised the main force to keep the Amir of War and Defense at the back of their ranks, shielded from the few loyalists to the mad Vizier. Reports from scouts had come in that both the second-in-command of the guard and the leader of the Mage's guild had fallen, along with members of their expeditionary force. Upon receiving the news from the scouts, Qi'sa felt a sick mix of sorrow and fury, and began to press through the troops as they reached the heart of the city. The eclipse had come and gone, and as the bright midday sun loomed overhead, she saw the body of the vizier- fresh from his last breaths- with members of the Northern Expeditionary force gathered around him and the Headsman standing at the foot of the body, traces of the tyrant's blood still staining his scythe.
The men parted as the Amir approached, and many of the militia took a knee. The captain spoke up.
"Ma'am, we've seen no trace of the Emir of Coin. The body of the Emir of Resources was found however. For the time being, you are the last remaining if the Emirate in the city."
Slowly, more ranks of men took a knee, and Qi'sa carefully surveyed the scene and readied her next words...
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Qi'sa al-Quatir
Yesadi
The fires of rebellion are meant to be stamped out.
Posts: 52
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Post by Qi'sa al-Quatir on Sept 12, 2013 12:41:19 GMT
Qi'sa continued to stand amidst the murmuring crowd, but her eyes stayed locked on the body of the fallen vizier. Raising a hand high, the people gathered around her drew silent, a wave of quiet spreading rapidly outward from the square as she drew in a deep breath and projected he voice with an echoing tone through the center of the city.
"Brothers, sisters of Yesad. We have seen our darkest of hours set upon this great city and our glorious people. We watched tyranny take hold over justice, madness grasp men at the expense of reason, and loss arise where once stood life. These were chaotic times, and it paid a toil on the Yesadi people. And though the battle was not as pitched as we had feared an prepared ourselves, it has still incurred a debt upon our men and women that we paid out in blood. The lives forfeit here and in the past weeks will not be taken lightly, nor forgotten. Each person, citizen and soldier alike, who paid the ultimate cost for their loyalty to Yesad and their willingness to stand against this usurpation should be regarded as heroes. That is where the foes of the Yesadi people made their mistake. They believed that they were culling dissidents. But as they spilled more and more blood, filling this very fountain with it, they did not realize that they were in fact infusing this very city with the blood of heroes. That they were suffusing this place with the true spirit of the Yesadi people. And it called us all back here to exact justice. And though we can never reclaim the lives of those who stood in the face of injustice, we should always take heed of the example they showed; each of them were beacons to the Yesadi people like the light stretching out from Q'ama to guide us our darkest hour. And though the damage does by these dark days will stretch beyond them, we will continue, we will push forward. For we may have been wounded, but we were not broken. And the Yesadi people will mend these woulds, and in having overcome them, emerge stronger than we were before."
She lowered her hand and her voice, and there arose the clattering sound of soldiers banging their spears against the fronts of their shields. As the rallying cacophony died down, her gaze pulled itself away from the body of the traitor Malik al-Zahhak. She spoke now directly to one of the guardsmen, issuing orders to the contingent standing around the corpse.
"His body is the be bound ceremonially, with priests of Shama and Q'ama overseeing it. It will them be immolated here in the square, and his ashes will be gathered and scattered to the Asahara Desert, where they may be lost amid the winds and sands; let no trace of him be able to be found, nor any gravestone adorn his name. He is to find no peace in death for his betrayal."
Her gaze sternly turned upward, her eyes falling on the Headsman. With a slight flaring of her eyes, she took a few steps towards him, her jaw tightening. Still, she surveyed him carefully.
"What you did to the Yesadi people in the name of this tyrant is contemptible..." she paused, fighting with herself, before returning to a visage of resolve, "However, it cannot be seen as dishonorable. You placed your duty, and your station at priority, and remained dedicated to your position. And while the blood of many of your brothers and sisters is upon your hands, it will be you alone who must bear the task of tormenting you. In the eyes of the Sultanate, you are given clemency, and will not be judged for these actions beyond this moment. You will however be expected to show as much dedication to your duty for the true Yesadi people as you showed to the traitors. Assuming you are willing to keep your fealty to Yesad, no recourse is to be held against you."
With a heavy exhale, she turned softly where she stood, beginning to take the first steps towards the Palace.
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Post by sylyle on Sept 16, 2013 14:13:17 GMT
ChanG having been hid away could no longer keep inside the confines of the small house. The clamoring of spears and swords drew him out and the quick draw of his bow finding two men in armor before they could draw final blows on some cornered small children. Ushering the Children to the alleyway and out of the Main streets. "What is all this?" ChanG had to ask twice since they were just staring at his robes. Oh the retaking of our city from the evil one. One of the small children said. "Which way is the fighting most?" Asking the oldest of the children probably no more than twelve seasons. Answering in a mousy voice the girl points toward the main citadel, "The palace will be the most fighting, it's that way." ChanG nodded and ushered the children further away from the main street. "If you know somewhere to hide, now would be a good time to stay there." The oldest nods and with her pack of followers scurries down the alleyway. Stopping back inside that house that had been almost like a prison ChanG grabs as many arrows as he could carry. Adorned in his Gold and Yellow Robes he makes his way down the street only drawing on those who would impede his progress. Slow and steady he makes his way to the gates of the Palace. One good arrow finds an archer on the wall falling forwards ChanG retrieves his quiver and continues inside. "If I were an evil overlord where would I be... A throne room." Chang talking and answering to himself. A contingent of armed people went running down the far end of the courtyard and disappeared. That is as good a way to go as any.
Following in the path of the contingent force the dead lay in two's and threes along the hallway. One wounded man even tried attacking yelling something about visers. It was garbled as the arrow found his neck dead before he crumpled to the floor.
After much time and getting lost twice ChanG makes it to the Throne room where an elf lay decapitated and much of the contingent of people still there. "I see you do not short on excitement." As over a dozen blades draw and steady toward the Monk. "I'm with Lector there." pointing with his hand without the bow in it. Most of them with their faces covered and have a symbol on their shields.
Recognizing the symbol ChanG gasps. "Oh. I have one of those." changing his pointing to a Shield of the High Guard. Whether it was meaning he has a shield of the High Guard or not it is unclear but so far the lone Monk dressed in bloody gold and yellow robes seems to be of no ill will so far.
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Qi'sa al-Quatir
Yesadi
The fires of rebellion are meant to be stamped out.
Posts: 52
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Post by Qi'sa al-Quatir on Sept 19, 2013 16:50:47 GMT
A contengient of guards snap to attention within the palace, a firm marching arriving. Many faces existing inside turn, looking to the doorway where the unmistakable appearance of one of the Amirs breaches the room with a dedicated stride. As the few guards she had flanking her broke the pane of the archway, behind them dozens more Yesadi- laborers rather than soldiers- poured into the room. The current guards assembled eased away from their prospects as the laborers swarmed the room and began their duties; some were cleaning up the bloodied remains that stained the room, others were taking down old tapestries and clearing the area around the throne, all were oblivious to those who were already in the room. Qi'sa spoke up, projecting an authoritarian voice.
"Guard commanders! I need this room cleared. Those with troop deployments need to report back to your unit, we will be helping assist in civic aid within the city. Those without will be given new duty assignments shortly. Until then, we need everyone clear of this area."
Her commands were sharply delivered in a professional tone. Men began to scurry around, with two ranking officers marching up to speak to her. The first jerked his head slightly to the side, indicating towards Lector and Grimm.
"Amir, there is an arrival from the northern Elite Guard deployments over there. He was amid, if not at the head of our legion at the north gates."
Qi'sa gave a sizing look towards Lector, nodding approvingly.
"I do not know if he is responsible for those gates passing without arms being drawn, but given the losses we had in other parts of the city, we should be thankful for all in that marching order. Let the Headsman know...." she points to Grimm directly, "that I would like a personal audience in private with him shortly. But as of this moment, I'd like to speak to the guardsman from the northern deployment, he deserves praise and recognition."
The first commander nods, turning to act on his orders but the second commander quickly jumps in.
"My liege, also, there is a curious man here, a man of some monastic order..." the guardsman points towards one of the ingress alcoves, where ChanG stands, "... he says that he is with the man from the northern deployment- Lector I believe he said the guardsman's name was- and that he has 'one of these'." He says, raising his shield and tapping on the front where the crest is inlaid.
Qi'sa nods, looking between the two.
"Good, bring him as well. If they were together, then they both deserve a degree of praise, and I'll speak to the two of them together."
Both of the guard commanders nod, and each walks towards the targets of their orders to deliver the messages and collect the men to meet with the Amir.
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Post by sylyle on Sept 20, 2013 13:43:10 GMT
Not wanting to eaves drop ChanG keeps a respectful distance and stays out of the way. People in arms and armor rushing about after the lady with a commanding presence gave firm and necessary orders.
As the guard comes over and gruffly but respectfully tells ChanG to come with him, he does, bow still in hand. Not that he will be much of a threat with only a bare handful of arrows still in the quiver.
Approaching the strong leadership lady, an Emir, if the guess was to be correct. ChanG gives respect in his fashion. Bow behind the back and the right thumb tucked into the palm of the hand at a 90degree angle to the floor. Head bowed slightly, and staying silent as if he would to an elder back at the Temple in a place that almost seems a lifetime away after this grueling and gruesome battle.
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