Public Amongst the Blood and Steel (open)

[Jake Daniels]

At first glance, the planet seemed like any other habitable one in the outer-rim. Temperate conditions that harbored a variety of life; most notably a large collection of humans which were dispersed throughout the various continents. Yet what set the planet apart from any others was not the lush vegetation it had; many planets had the same. It was not the crystal blue ocean waters; that liquid was common in the galaxy. Nor was it the humans which called it home; they were far more common than actual water. What set the planet apart was its almost archaic ways of life.

Some ships dotted the skies though they were simply frigates bringing and taking goods for trade. There just were not nearly as many ships when compared to other planets. The buildings were not skyscrapers or made of steel, concrete, and glass. They were made of mud, stone, and brick. A blaster could not be found in public; men and women used simple steel swords, bows, spears and axes as weapons. Life seemed simple compared to what people had on planets such as Coruscant and yet it was a life the people of this planet cherished. While the galaxy advanced, the people here wanted to keep their heritage.

Some Kingdoms cut themselves off to all offworlders. Some tolerated them passing through their airspace. Others, like the Kingdom of Adepan, welcomed the offworlders as more trade meant more wealth and influence. They even possessed off-worlder weapons as a secret cache against planetary invaders. Most, if not all known Kingdoms did boast anti-aircraft guns around their capitals; the only public offworld weaponry allowed. Other than that it was as ‘old school’ as ‘old school’ could get.

Just because the planet seemed to hold a technologically ignorant lifestyle did not mean it was anymore peaceful then any other. People still fought and Kingdoms still warred. A war was currently raging between two of the largest Kingdoms on the planet. Months earlier the eastern Kingdom of Konevell invaded its neighbor, the Kingdom of Adepor. The initial incursions by Konevell caught Adepor off guard; various villages raided and plundered while several Noble estates had been burned to the ground. Adepor mounted a fierce defence and gradually brought the invaders advances to a stand-still. Now the war was a stale-mate which seemed to turn into one of attrition.

Several men sat atop steeds overlooking a field before them. The sound of metal smacking metal, wood to wood, and the varied cries of falling men carried on the wind and to the ever vigilant men. Most were dressed in metal armor; swords sheathed, and shields resting to a hook on their back. Their helmets were standard wear; solid steel with a point at the top. It protected the head on the sides and back while leaving the face exposed. The only man among them dressed any differently was Prince Michael; heir to the throne of Adepor. He had a thin golden crown instead of a helmet. His armor appeared lighter than his Knights though chainmail was seen peeking up around his collar.

To the rear were bannermen which each held a staff. Atop the staff was the flag of Adepor; a white fabric with a black sword overlaying a shield. The symbol told the tale of people who were fearless warriors. The flaps flapped in the breeze as the overcast skies above seemed to hint that rain was soon to begin.

“Now we strike. Send in our reinforcements.” Prince Michael said as he watched the right and center flanks of Nabir’s army buckling from his Adepors continued push.

A man behind the Prince lifted a bronze horn and blew a specific tune. On the signal a mass of men rushed from the tree line near the battlefield. At the forefront of the fresh troops were a couple of Knights leading the charge. Just behind them were spearmen, followed closely by standard infantry. It was like watching an ocean wave crashing into a retaining wall. Body collided with body as the reinforcements pushed their way into the right flank. As quickly as they arrived, the right flank finally broke as Nadir’s forces began a panicked retreat while others were pushed into the center.

A momentary smirk was wiped away as his attention was drawn to the left flank.

“Sire, the left is holding. We can’t break through!” A Knight said riding up to the Prince. As he came to a stop he pointed towards the left flank, which the Knight had been watching in a closer angle to report issues back to Michael.

Michael was dumbfounded by what he saw. The battlefield seemed split like night and day. One side was falling while the other remained strong. They needed to break the left before they could claim victory.

“Send in the cavalry.” Michael ordered.

“We sent them in a bit ago. They fell.” The Knight said.

“They were sent in before my order was given and what do you mean they fell? They’re the best horsemen on the planet.” Michael growled as he noticed the steeds of his esteemed cavalry dotting the landscape below.

“When I saw that the flank was not breaking, I gave orders to send them in. They were massacred, MiLord. There’s a man down there leading them. The way he moves is unlike anything I have seen. No shield. No real armor. No fear.” The Knight said.

“It is him, MiLord. It has to be.” A Knight beside the Prince said.

Prince Michael looked down to the left flank. Their falanx remained tight. Shield to shield, the men had pulled in strong. They held off the attackers from the front. Behind them their infantry battle Adepor footmen that came through from other sides. In the center of the mass in the rear of the flank was the soldier that the Knight spoke of. Rumors had swirled that Konevell’s army had a commander in its ranks that had helped to devise and implement several strategies that routed the Adepor forces early in the war. Reports of his abilities, almost supernatural, raged around the upper echelons of nobility in Adepor. Prince Michael scoffed at such notions; that was until he saw the man for himself. The stories were not lies.

Michael could make out just enough of the man to see his actions. He moved with a grace that few men possessed. His sword seemed to be an extension of his body; perfectly balanced in equilibrium as they dropped body after body at the man’s feet. Prince Michael was astounded. He had no shield and appeared to be only in leather armor. How a bowman had not caught him with an arrow earlier in the battle or one of his men managing a lucky strike was surprising. There was more to him than met the eye; there had to be.

“Sir, the right and center have fallen in. Their soldiers are retreating. Shall we charge after them?”

The Prince’s eyes went from the left flank and to the shambles of the others.

“Send a small group to try and capture Prince Nabir. I want the majority of the men to reinforce that left flank. Incircle them. It appears that Prince Nabir did not sound a retreat so they are effectively leaving all the men on the left behind. Take as many as you can alive; particularly that man.” Prince Michael said as he pointed towards the man with no shield.

As a Knight trotted off to give orders another spoke up.

“MiLord why don’t we just kill them all and be done with it. Taking prisoners is too much of a risk.” The Knight said.

“It is, yes but I can barter them to Prince Nabir. He is already running low on men. He’ll need Once word gets out of his humiliating defeat here, I am certain someone back in his homeland will challenge his family’s rule. If he refuses to pay for those we capture, then we kill them.” Michael explained.

On the battlefield the center and right battalions of men rushed into the left flank. To the amazement of Michael, the left flank adapted quickly. The shieldless man seemed to be giving orders as he pointed in different directions with his blood soaked sword. Nabir’s remaining flank closed into a tight circle, phalanx again near impregnable. As his men rushed the shield wall, many fell from spearmen inside the circle while a few had their kneecaps or achilles tendons sliced through by quick strikes from the infantry.

 

[Romano Shamalain]

“They’re charging!” A voice shrouded amongst the wall of men whom desperately held their shields together.

Romano’s attention turned towards the sound of the voice he saw the wall of Adepor reinforcements coming in. He finally noticed that the right and center of their lines had fallen. He could make out the retreating dots of Nadir’s forces as they scurried away; many cut down by closely following enemy. Turning his attention back to his immediate threats. Spears slammed into his circular wall of wood as his men shoved back. Some spears broke through the wood blockage, slashing and stabbing into the defenders while others snapped like twigs. Just behind his shieldmen, Romano’s surviving spearmen did their best to slam and poke; though it was proving fruitless as some began to fall from random arrows. One of which whizzed past his head and hit the man behind him.

“Hold your ground.” Romano commanded as his stabbed over the top of his human wall to catch a soldier in the throat.

His men could not push forward as that would open gaps. They could not fall back lest they began tripping over one anothers legs. They were stuck. Romano knew there was no way out but escape was not his intention. Survival was. That was the only thing that mattered. His sword caught the few that managed to break through the wall; the sword was quick to remove head, limb, or both which dropped lifeless bodies all around his position.

This was a far cry from what Romano had once been. The younger brother to perhaps the most dangerous man in the galaxy, Rune Shamalain , Romano was finally coming into his own. He was a mix of Lysander and their father. At times quiet and calculating he could in turn be ruled by his heart. It was a paradox in many terms; making him both stable and unpredictable. It was the latter, the unpredictability that brought him to this backwards planet.

While the men around him believed in their Prince, believed that Nadir would lead them to victory, Romano knew otherwise. He knew the battle was lost before it even began. That was the plan; or more specifically part of a larger plan that was unfolding as they spoke. If Rune or Ereza saw what he was up too they would probably give him a good smack. This was risky; very risky. It did not help that part of the plan was to not use the force at all.

“Die for Prince Nadir. Head to your hereafter as Warriors and dine with your kin who have fallen before you.” Romano commanded.

His axe caught the back of one man while his sword blocked the attack of another. As his second attacker pushed in, Romano head butted him though dazed himself in the action. How the hell did Jake manage to do that without getting dizzy? Before his attacker could recover Romano’s sword knocked away the attackers own weapon while his axe found his knees, then gut, and finally head.

Then just as he had been told to expect the sound of a horn bellowed over the battle field. The attackers backed up several paces from Romano’s now shambled human wall as their own Leader and his Knights trotted down the hill.

Just as he has been told would eventually happen, a momentary reprieve was given. If the plan continued as expected then the next step was too be offered a chance to surrender. That was a chance Romano needed to take.

 

[Jake Daniels]

Adepor Drainage System


The men walked in silence as they trudged through the near knee deep sewage of the Kingdoms capitol. The system itself was masterfully built. Through a combination of simple stone, handcrafted brick and a special volcanic cement called pozzuolana. It was a cheap but highly effective substance that had a multitude of applications. Many sewage systems made of stone struggled to hold together as time passed but Adepors never wavered. There were no visible cracks about; the stone and brick held under the weight and beating the constantly flowing fluids gave it. It was also dutifully mapped out to the entire capitol. It had been built like a honeycomb; with various tunnels allowing things to fall in while others served to simply usher contents along. It was the simplistic nature of the layout which made it easy for the man traversing it to find their way right under its central point; the Royal Castle.

At the head of the group was an older gentleman. Average in height but broad shouldered, his appearance was greatly deceiving. He looked lean but beneath the black and brown leather armor was the scarred physique of a well build men. Unlike those behind him, the symbol on his chest was not one of Prince Nadir nor that Kingdom but something similar to a tree of life. It was the crest of the Shamalain Family; something very few adorned. It was also something the man would murder for should anyone unwilling wear it.

“Here.” Jake said as he looked up as a steel lid.

“You’re certain?” A solder asked.

Jake turned his attention to the small group of men. While he wore no steel armor; these men had some. Their torso’s were covered by steel plating as were their shins and forearms. Beneath the steel was leather similar to Jakes while beneath that was chainmail. Each man had a small shield on the back as well as shortsword. Jake simply had a sword sheathed on his back.

“Yes.” Jake pointed to the area around them.

“Down that tunnel is the kitchens. Further down will be the central point for the entire system. This right here should lead us right into the armory.” Jake explained.

The plan was brilliant. Kill the few men in the armory, secure it, and prevent others from accessing it. It should turn into a shooting gallery of sorts as the only ones they would need to worry about was any Royal Guards currently armed.

“I’ll go up first,” Jake always lead from the front.

“I want you,” Jake pointed to one soldier, “to come with me. Everyone else split into your teams. One team secures and holds the armory. The second and third push into the castle. Do as much damage as you can.”
“Aye.” The men said in unison.

Slowly Jake climbed up, pushed the small steel lid off to the side quietly and gently lifted himself out of the hole. Glancing about he saw no one around. Turning he assisted the next man out. As the second helped the third, and so on, Jake drew his sword. The armory was filled with a variety of weapons; swords, crossbows, bows, longbows, knive, broadswords, shields, arrows, and steel armor. Approaching the wooden doors that served as the entrance to the armory, Jake and another soldier took positions on each side and knocked.

As the doors swung open by Royal Guards confused as to the sound, Daniels and his ally attack. Swords met flesh faster than the defenders could let out a shout. Within seconds two bodies hit the floor. The attack had begun. Stalking out, the attempt at stealth was shattered when a maid screamed as she spotted their invaders.

“Move it.” Jake shouted.

There was stiffer resistance than the man had anticipated. A forgotten warrior from an ancient era, Jake proved his skill. As his body was slowly giving way to age and disease; as death was slowly creeping up on him, the Master of the Sword, willed himself on. He had to. Jake wanted to prove himself to someone. As his sword met sword, his fist met face, and foot met gut the Right Hand of the Mal’Ary’Ush tore through those that dared obstruct his path. He was accurate, limber, and much like a rattlesnake; quick in his strikes. Bodies lay like trail of breadcrumbs showing the way in which the man marched.

Behind him, Nadir’s loyalists did their part. They wreaked havoc in the castle pushing into chambers, rooms, and meeting halls that had never experienced such penetration by a foreign force. These men were hand selected by Jake. He had gone through Prince Nadir’s ranks, searching for and finding the most able bodied and determined individuals he could. They proved their worth by holding their own.

“How do you know the layout of this place?” The Soldier behind Jake asked.

“I was a guest here not too long ago. One of my sons resides on the planet so I came to visit him. When I saw how lush and full of life this place was I wanted to buy a plot of land so my son could tend to it. The King had heard of my arrival. He had heard tales of my family,” Jake stopped as they came to a large stairwell that descended into a abyss.

“I was summoned to his court. The one thing I do not like to be is ‘summoned’ like Im some dog. I did show respect as I was a guest in his Kingdom. What he wanted was something I refused to pay; servitude. He wanted me to join his son in his war against your Prince.” Jake explained.

“If you refused the Kings request then why join his enemy? It doesn’t make sense.” The Soldier asked.

Jake held his sword close as their steps since small echos through the corridor. Once at the bottom, the soldier beside him grabbed flint and steel. Once a torch burst to life with a vibrant yellow flame, the sight was one of utmost despair. Unlike the many rooms above, the dungeons were diplorable. It was not the cold nor darkness that got to Jake. It was the smell. Pungent and rotten, it was a smell he knew all too well as did the soldier.

“Death.” The soldier said.

Jake simply nodded as they looked into the first cell. The man had been dead for some time. His back was pressed to the cells metal bars while his shirt had been torn and tired into a neuse which wrapped his neck. The tale was simple; he had taken his own life. In the far corner was a hay which served as a makeshift bed. Beside it was a steel bucket that held human waste. There was no signs of water nor food. Jake’s face grimaced through an unbridled rage was evident as his posture began rigid.

“Hey, olde’ man!” A voice shouted from a cell further down the dungeon.

Both men turned to face its direction with the Soldier again inquiring.

“Why join my Prince though?”

“Because they have something that belongs to me.”

“What?”

Jake came to a stop at the cell from which the voice originated. Taking the torch from the Soldier, the aged held it towards the bars. From the darkness of the cell and into the light of the torch emerged a surprisingly tall man. Pale in complexion, with blond hair that has been tied back and leather armor similar to Daniels. The mans eyes were near identical to Jake’s; as was the way he seemed to carry himself.

“They have my Son.”