Lore of Leyuna RPG (FRPG)

[The Kingpin]

Septimus looked over his shoulder at the Mage latched onto him, a small smile crossing his features as he departed the area. Now that the matter was behind them, he set his sights on the future. Several of minutes of silence passed as he continued walking, waiting until he was absolutely certain Morrelie was out of reach, before he spoke. "So where would you prefer we go next?" he broached as he walked through the sparse forest of bare trees, dead leaves crunching underfoot. He suspected he could take flight here with little difficulty, trees spread out as thoroughly as they were. Easily enough for him to move without striking his wings on stray branches.

[C S]

"You already know the answer to that one. But Seppy, please," Syria raised her cheek from the elvish Scholar's back, "get some proper sleep before you do anymore flying... or sky-falling. I worry about you."

[The Kingpin]

The Son of Storms stopped at that, glancing over his shoulder with the grunt that was somewhere between dismissive and amused at the suggestion. "Says the one so exhausted she has surrendered herself to resting on my back," he teased as he mentally guessed his heading and how best to get there. He estimated they were far enough now for him to take flight without Morrelie seeing him from a distance, and for that, he was thankful. Without the wirshah, he definitely felt the chill of the winter air. It was no more a threat to him than it was any other time, but it certainly wasn't a pleasant feeling, either.

[C S]

"I'll cuddle with you like this, if it is any incentive," Syria retorted as best as she could. As tired as she was, she would meet Septimus' banter until she actually fell asleep. At which point she would be rudely awoken from hitting the ground, so it was something she meant to avoid until they found a good place to settle down.

[The Kingpin]

"Tempting, but if we were to do that, we'd take a while to reach our 'spot'. And I think we both know you'd rather we got there as soon as possible," retorted the Scholar, entertained by her persistence, continuing on his way.

[C S]

"We've made one miracle happen already. Why would you chance jinxing it because you're too stubborn for at least a nap?" the lady pondered, resting her chin atop Septimus' shoulder after she was done to pout.

[The Kingpin]

"Because I can do that on the wing, dear," the Scholar stated matter-of-factly, turning his head ever so slightly to look at the Mage with a sidelong glance.

[C S]

"Egh," Syria responded. She had nothing more to say, and the faculties to continue out of indignity were shot. Simple sounds would have to suffice.

[The Kingpin]

The Scholar's subsequent chuckle shook his entire body. It would've been enough to wake the mage up completely, were she not so exhausted. Beneath her, the cover of the satchel unlatched itself and rolled open, a gentle lifting sensation gripping the mage, attempting to lower her into the satchel.

[C S]

"Bleh," the mage insisted. Her hold on Septimus was little more than one hand holding onto the fabric of his shirt as the rest of her body bobbed above the entrance to the satchel. It was oddly reminiscent of Beshayir's resistance to let her go, back in Yuraelia, actually. Unlike that happenstance, Syria pulled herself back to Septimus and nuzzled his neck and the back of his head. She let go after that simple affection, descending into the satchel, where she was liable to kick off her boots somewhere and collapse face-first onto her bed.

[The Kingpin]

The top of the satchel unrolled itself once Syria was safely within its confines. Mere moments later, the elf's form was that of a dragon, the Scholar's vast wings thumping powerfully as he took to the sky, putting the dirt and frost and dead leaves behind him...

[C S]

The dark red ranger was on an entirely different kind of bed.

Her knees dug into the snowpack at the side of the mountain, the uneven slope creating many banks to hide herself in. The sun was shining down on her, so she took extra care to stay low and behind cover. Blood didn't show well on her ensemble, but it most definitely stood out against the white, sparkling snow. Baaz did not have the luxury of a dark backdrop to blend into from her vantage point. Valeria and Chandra did, from their respective positions on the mountain. Valeria was at a higher elevation, lying on a rocky ridge where the greens and browns of her suit stood to give the impression of vegetation. Chandra was low, where trees still grew, and she was in the thicket of bark and shadows.

A scarf was tight around Baaz's face, underneath her nose. Her hood was pulled far forward to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun overhead. Her sling-bow was propped up on the top of the bank, the stock against her shoulder as she peered through the mounted Hawksight scope. Through her yellowed sights, she had an amplified view of Elias' base.

[The Kingpin]

The 'base' was an unassuming little shack built into the side of a cliff. It seemed as though whoever originally owned it had decided that it offered decent shelter from the elements and turned what was once a shallow dip in the cliff face into a home. A slanted roof drained off rain and snow that formed on top onto the rocky floor below. Around it, four thick wooden pillars held up the stone slab that was the ledge overhanging the shack's interior; part of the much larger and taller cliff.

The shack itself looked worn down, but as rugged as would be expected of a household so far out of the way. A small chimney, a stone and brass thing that snaked out from under the ledge and went straight up, could be seen to one side of the building. Its top was capped with a conical rain guard, and smoke could be seen spilling out of it. The windows were hazy from the frost, and it was unclear how many were inside, though movement was definitely visible in there.


Matthias was sprawled on his front a fair distance from the trio of Rangers. His cloak was draped over his shoulders, the tattered looking brownish grey attire making him look very much like a boulder. He was getting restless, eager to get this over with.

[C S]

Like at the practice range, Baaz lined up her sling-bow with the shack's door. She used the knob as a frame of reference, and had a rough outline of a person's figure in her head relative to it. If the doorknob was at this point in her scope's view, then the head, limbs and vitals should be about so. She grunted when she had her aim adjusted, using the lines and notches indicated on the glass to correct for the wind blowing up the slope and the drop off of the bolt. All set. Baaz raised her hand over the bluff to signal Urlox to do as Urlox did.

Urlox was crouched right next to the door. He saw Baaz's fingers, small specks from where he was looking from, and grinned. He was rather looking forward to see this new breaching maneuver at play. His knuckles found the door and knocked, and then he shrunk away, staying below the foggy window. He had his sword partly drawn.

The door opened slowly, cautiously. A head came around the corner to peak out and that was all Baaz needed. A split-second turn of her bow and the pull of the trigger sent her payload over the snowdrifts. The retort of the rubber was sharp, reaching everyone's ears. It took just a little longer for the Daaven-point to reach the side of the surprised man's face.

It sank into his skull with a spray that stained the door and its frame. His body was on the ground with a thud thereafter, in the same span of time it took Baaz to pull back on the bow's lever and load another bolt into the feed.

[The Kingpin]

"Archers!" shouted a voice inside, all the movement beyond the windows growing momentarily frantic before ceasing entirely. The clatter of various utensils and furniture inside hinted that they were bracing for an attack.

"How did they find us?" gasped one of the surviving men inside, his back pressed against the wall just beyond the doorframe. His gaze was on his dead comrade, the shocked expression frozen on his face as he lay still, one eye bloodshot, a bolt sticking out of the side of his skull.

"Well that's simple, Darathor. One of you led them here," snarled another, deeper voice. The grey-brown haired figure was wrapped in a heavy coat that obscured his figure, though the menacing yellow eyes would have given him away immediately; Elias Lyall. The man was no less grizzled than his brother, though perhaps better dressed. It was clear that his life in hiding from the Royal Arms had been harsh on him. The four men in this shack were the only ones still loyal to him, and one of them lay bleeding on the ground.

"Impossible. We found the scout. Gutted him and fed him to the wolves. There was no one to send word," retorted the man crouched beneath one of the windows, a large, decorated barrel-crossbow in hand.

"Well then, how else did they learn of this place? Are you suggesting that perhaps the wolves took the leftovers back to Niyera to deliver to the Commissar?" hissed Elias sarcastically. "It doesn't matter how they found us. They're here. We need to kill them," he stated finally.

"Um...Sir Elias, I don't think they're Niyeran," stated the last of the trio of surviving companions. Her sword, a flamberge lined with a serrated edge, glimmered in the light of the torches on the walls.

"That's ridiculous, Thera. Who else could they be?" asked the crossbow-wielding soldier, looking back at his comrade.

"That bolt isn't of Elvish make. Not any I have ever seen," explained Thera simply, nodding towards the Daaven-point.

Before any of them could so much as respond to that, something large and yellow-hued flew through the open door, smashing against a table and spilling onto the chair beside it. An explosion of flames spread outwards wherever the liquid hit, the oil lamp-turned-firebomb bathing Darathor, the closest of them to the table, in flames as the fire spread at a voracious rate, igniting the carpets and bedding the five had been using. Thera, Elias and Unis, the crossbow wielder, rushed out of the shack, the foremost of the three armed with an actual shield alongside her sword, the other two lacking such a luxury.

[C S]

Sling-bows went off as the first two out, Darathor and Unis, left the burning shack. Baaz and Chandra respectively fired their bows with deadly precision. For as dysfunctional a pair they were outside of battle, their combined combat effectiveness had cut down the odds of Elias' party. Urlox, waiting in ambush, further tipped the scales in a literal cutting of odds. He pulled his sword from its sheath completely, half-sworded the blade as he rose, then drove it true through Thera's back. The huge blade split her armor and drove through into her chest, where it burst out the front.

"Elias!" the bearded commando barked with the woman impaled on his steel and a fire quickly raging behind him, giving him a silhouette of orange and red, "it 'as been a long time, little lad! Far too long!"

[The Kingpin]

The Betrayer was silent for several moments, simply staring at his comrades, cut down around him. His expression twisting as he fixed the Guard Captain with a look that was only a few hairs shy of a death glare. "Ah. Thimeas," he responded, his arms held out at his sides, gesturing at their surroundings. "You know how to make an entrance, I'll grant you that. Not that I blame you. You've always been loud," he stated.

"And you've always been a loner, Elias. But a kinslayer... I have to admit I was surprised to learn that," came Matthias's gravelly voice behind the Betrayer.

Elias whirled around, the first sign of surprise he had shown today, eyes wide, though he quickly played it off, a smirk curling across his face. "Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise!? Last I'd heard you were a pile of cinders!" he exclaimed.

"Next time you try and assassinate me, at least have the common ******* courtesy to send a professional. That pyromancer was pathetic," responded the Wanderer, his expression as cold and emotionless as a statue.

"What can I say? Quality's hard to find these days. One has to make due with what's available. Isn't that your motto? 'Do your best with what you have'?" asked Elias.

"When the matter is your own damned family, you don't do it to begin with, Elias. Have you forgotten everything father taught us? Family first, loyalty to the end, til the eternal flames claim us all? Did you really not care about any of it?" rasped the Wanderer, his hands balling into fists under his cloak.

"Oh, but I do. Or did, at least," retorted Elias, his smirk never leaving his face. "You see Matthias, it's like this. Our side of the family were once sovereigns over a good chunk of the continent. Half of Valenhad belonged to us, and some land beyond that too. Our vassals spanned the continent, and our name commanded respect far and wide, here in Aster and beyond. Some of that lives on in Niyera. We still have some power, some respect. But in the East? We're the Archers' lapdogs. Not only that, but we insist on staying that way. Twice now, we've had the chance to take Valenhad for ourselves, regain our birthright, rebuild Irrydil, and twice it was thrown away by Kaelan and his idiot sons. I simply intended to...correct their mistakes."

[C S]

Valeria watched through her scope from a craggy alcove. She couldn't hear anything being spoken, but she took the lapse in bolts being fired from Chandra and Baaz as the last man standing being Elias. She didn't know what she was expecting to see. Another Matthias was her assumption. What she saw in reality was someone she could only describe as craven. Slimy, in the way he was cornered but refused to surrender, even as his closest allies were dead around him.

"For the mission." The rookie kept her bolt trained on Elias. Supporting fire only. Matthias and Urlox had a personal draw in this. Baaz and Chandra took a similar stance on the issue, though it was the most awkward thing for them. They had a prime opportunity to put down a target, but had to wait for things to slip out of their favor to act.

"And people call me the crazy *****," Baaz reflected, her jaw clenched.


Urlox chuckled before he turned his attention to the plated woman on his sword. He pulled his sword in and kicked a leg out to rid himself of the body, which crumpled lifelessly. He then held the bloodied sword off to his side, the tip hovering just a little less than an inch from the snow. "There's a saying about living in the past, Elias, but I won't be quoting anything," replied the guard captain, then rumbled another dark laugh. "No, I'll be wondering what's the point of making an empire out of Aster if you're of the persuasion to stab your allies in the back? Foxes in the 'enhouse and some such."

[The Kingpin]

"Oh, I never planned for an empire. Just to take back what was owed, is all. Problem is my dear brothers kept ruining it for themselves. The only ones I intended to betray were them, and only because they were too blind to see what was right in front of them," explained Elias.

"You mean the madness of trying to turn a kingdom of many different races into one dominated by an egotistical elf? Even if you somehow managed to win the ensuing civil war, you'd be dead within the year," stated Matthias.

That earned a laugh from his sibling. "Look at you, short sighted as ever. I have no idea how you became a successful merchant with such poor foresight. There was never going to be a civil war! If not for Kaelan, Andruil and Alex cutting off every opportunity, I could have taken the kingdom without a fight. We both know that boy on the throne is no king. He wasn't even taught to rule. We effectively rule Valenhad already, with Kaelan and Alex acting as his 'advisors'. All it would take would be a tragic accident that killed the last of the Archer line. The Lyalls, being the only ones truly fit to rule, would earn enough of the people's trust to quell any issue the other provinces may have had with us. Even the Duchess of Tremaine wouldn't be able to fight that sort of popularity. Then that idiot nephew of ours started killing my agents. Foiled the plan in Niyera. Made me an enemy of our extended family, a fugitive. I'll gut him when I find him," muttered the Betrayer as he looked towards the ground. It was only a moment later when his gaze shifted back to his brother, yellow eyes glowing dangerously. "Ah, but that's thinking too far ahead! I've always been more of a now person. So, what will it be, Matt? Thimeas? Are you going to try and kill me? Kill the killer and become one yourself?"

[C S]

"'Tis a good point you bring up, I will admit. From the perspective of ideology, it should be I alone beating your face in, so that Matt doesn't 'ave to kill a brother. Divines above know I've done it more times than I care to remember." Urlox brought his sword around with a mighty grunt then and there, resting it on his shoulder. "We've come too far and 'ave too big a bone to pick with you to entertain that nonsense, though."