The War of the Ancients, The Great War, left behind much death and eventually, a collective wish for peace. On the northern continent of Erganoth in the great capital called Sotor City, King Darius has had a terrible premonition. A Great Ancient is returning to the above, awakening from a very long slumber. For the good of his people, the troops must begin preparations for battle. He calls in a great number of recruits, every capable man, woman, and child able, notifying the public of new laws heavily restricting the use of magic. Magic gives off a shadow energy which the ancients sense easily and love to devour.

Name: Raina Josawyn
Age: 20
Race: Elf
Class: Mage
Professions: Herbalism, Enchanting
Raina was born and raised in Sotor City. Her parents operate the oldest, busiest ale house in the capital- The Stinky Pirate. They named the place after their landlord when he died in a duel right outside their front door. From a young age, Raina was well known around the city as a skilled magic user, specializing in ice and fire magics. She's always aimed to be president of the biggest magic guid in the world. That goal has been made a lot more difficult to achieve now that King Doofus has instilled anti-magic laws.

---------- Post added 06-07-2016 at 01:30 AM ----------

"Buttered bread..." Muttering and soft sighs are all that came from Raina most mornings now. She stared down at her regular piece of bread which now had a layer of butter spread. She looked over her shoulder from the kitchen. It seemed she was alone enough... If nobody was there to notice... Just a little...

One flash of flame to it turned her breakfast bread into breakfast toast. You might have even missed it if you blinked.

"Raina!" A whisper-scream came from the hall which she thought was just deemed all-clear. She slowly turned around to see her mother standing with her hands on her hips, tilting her head at her disapprovingly. Raina took a bite of the toast and held up her hands in surrender. "What'd I do!?"

"You know good and well what you did. If anyone else would have seen that, you'd be in big trouble, young lady." She walked into the kitchen and joined her daughter in buttery-bread eating, also flashing her own into toast. "Don't get caught. Be careful." She smiled slightly and put her hand on Raina's shoulder, which was chuckled off. "Of course. I'm not stupid."

"MAIL! MAIL! MAIL!" A familiar holler could be heard for what had to be at least a mile. Raina swallowed hard and walked to the window above the sink, sneaking a peek outside onto the cobble-stoned main street of Sotor City. The Stinky Pirate was right on the busiest corner of town, making it the most popular ale house for miles. Even the king would give it a visit on special occasions. Low and behold, the goblin called Malcom could just barely be spotted on the horizon of a hill, coming close real fast. He zoomed recklessly on his cart pulled by an undead horse, throwing piles of mail seemingly everywhere, but there was method to his madness. The little green thing always landed citizen's mail correctly and precisely without incident since before Raina could remember.

"Very consistent, that one is." Her mother said quietly. Raina frowned. The King had been sending out recruitment papers for a week now, and they hadn't been stopping. She knew hers was coming. Any day now. As she crept the window up to prop it open, the mail goblin swooped by and slapped a rather large envelope right on Raina's face. "MAIL!" he squalled at her and bumped on down the street.

After growling slightly, she peeled the thick envelope from her forehead and removed the contents in one swoop of her sharp nail. Her eyes quickly scanned the letter. The first thing she noticed was the King's seal. Her eyes squinted... "My honor... Call you to protect... Powerful ancient?... Great battle for the city?..." She muttered as she read, getting slowly more quiet as she continued. "I knew it. I knew they would make me go!" She crumbled up the paper and threw it without looking.

"What could I even do in battle if I'm not supposed to use magic?" She looked down at her hands. Magic was all she was good at. Fire and ice were hers to control. Some people didn't even have magic affinities, but she had two!

Her mother picked up the paper ball and uncrumbled it. "It says... There's a magic unit you've already been assigned to." She closed her eyes and held the paper out to Raina. "You'll need this when you get there for identification purposes. I know you'll be fine." Raina snatched the paper and took a closer look. It was true. There weren't many more details, just the time and location to meet, and the list of items to bring with her.

"I don't know how long I'll be gone... But I'll be back. Don't you worry." Raina hugged her mother, who was only slightly taller. "I know, love." She gave a squeeze and pat Raina's blonde hair. "Show them the fury of Erganoth elves."

After an emotional parting with her father as well, Raina packed up quickly and was gone on her speedy turtle, equipped with two bags of necessities, sitting pretty on her new leather saddle.

Name: Sir Leopold Alston, the Red Death
Age: 30
Race: Human
Class: Warrior
Professions: Mining & Blacksmithing
Backstory: Left on the doorstep of the church's Abbey, just outside the castle wall, little is known about Leopold's parentage. It was always assumed he was a bastard of the King, a birthmark on his back, near his right shoulder, helped the claim, since it was a near match for the very same one on the king. The strawberry coloured mark shaped like a crude shield of sorts, as if predicting his role in life. From the age of eight, at the King's request, he was made squire to one of his best knights, from there he grew in rank, surpassing everyone who was placed under. His class of warrior was earned, and he found himself a high-ranking knight among the kings army. While a man of few words he had a head for battle and strategy, the king often called on him for tasks he didn't trust others with. The man himself is a mystery, his strength is greater than even the magical creatures that make up a good portion of the Knights, he can seem to predict the enemy's movement before they even attack. Personality wise he is gruff, says little, and keeps to himself. Unlike most knights he's taken to making his armour, nearly always he can be found in the forge or over an anvil, perfecting his armour, which has been proven to be stronger than most others available. A special blend of metals, one he refuses to disclose, even to his king.

Leopold is duty and honor bound, he does what is asked of him, and he does it well. It was such that earned him the nickname "the Red Death", a reminder of his greatest battle yet. They had fought hard, but they were outnumbered, not willing to give up, he went into a trance of sorts, his rage overtaking him. He had slaughtered thirty men on is own in but a few minutes, only to be left standing in a field, his entire person dripping with blood. He was quick to remind people that is was but thirty men, not the hundreds the story has evolved into over the years.


Thunder


Porkchop, Chop for short.


A knock sounded on the door of the small abode, the door rattling with the force of it. "Coming." Leopold grumbled as he stood up from the crude stool he had been seated on, beside a wobbly table, his morning porridge still steaming. It took only a few steps to reach the door, the home small and nearly empty, the way he preferred it. It was all one room, a large stone hearth taking up an entire wall, a fire going, large pot over it. At the back was a large bed, covered in furs, a sword and shield hanging above it. The only other furniture was two stools and the table they sat around, a large chest, an armour stand (which was the nicest thing in there), and some shelves that held food and other goods. The walls were covered though, in various flags, tapestries, and weapons, even so far as to cover the windows, letting in no light.

On the otherside of the door stood a large knight, towering over the large door, near two heads higher than the opening. As yes, Sir Hatred, an orc of few words but fierce in battle. So the assignments had gone out, had they? Leopold took the outstretched parchment and nodded a goodbye to the orc who turned and left without a word. If only every interaction could be so quick and easy, it was why he quite liked Sir Hatred, who's name was more than fitting, since he hated just about everything. The parchment bore the seal of the king and he broke the wax circle before unrolling it. Anger clouded his features, he had to be in charge of the special magic unit? The king knew of his hatred for magic! A growl escaped him and he slammed the summons to the table, the bowl of porridge rattling as he did so. His appetite gone, he focused on suiting up. Most knights had a squire to help, but he had successfully scared of eight of them, and the king had not bothered to appoint him a new one. He had modified his armour to make it easier for him to ready himself, which was how he preferred it.

It didn't take long, he had donned only a light armour, a shirt of chain, metal bracers on his arms and legs. The metal itself was polished to a shine, it seemed almost marbled in a way, silver and black swirling together in an interesting pattern, a result of him mixing the metals. Tight, black, leather breeches hugged his legs, and his great sword slung across his back. He loathed the idea of addressing, and training, a bunch of magic users, considering he knew little about it. The king, in his infinite wisdom, thought it best that he do this, to control them and make sure magic would only be used when absolutely needed, and not a moment before. So he had to train them to use their magic in a useful way, while not actually allowing them to use it until the proper time. A nightmare.

Yet duty bound he left the small cabin, a large shaggy mutt coming to his side the second he was out the door. The nog nudged his hand only once, earning himself a scratch on the head, before Leo made his way to the small stable. A grey, speckled horse grazed out in the small paddock, eating the dew covered grass. The horse was nearing eight years old, still spirited but the most useful beast he had ever encountered. Well practiced, it took only minutes to saddle and ready the horse before he was off towards the training grounds, the shaggy dog running at his side. A cool mist filled the air, the fog hovering just above the damp grass. It didn't take long for him to reach his location, only ten minutes on horseback, but he was far enough away that he could enjoy the silence.

The recruits would come to him over the next few days, likely scrawny magic users who would not survive their first fight. Several other knights, including the captain, milled about, waiting for their new recruits. He found a spot in the training yard, a large fenced area and claimed it. With his horse sent to the stable he perched himself on the fence, Porkchop lazed on the ground beside him, rolling in the damp grass. "Magic users. Of all the rotten luck..." He grumbled to himself, running a hand through his copper hair. He could see in the distance the large tents being erected, what would soon be home to their makeshift army. Most of these recruits would hardly survive in the cramped quarters, sleeping on rolls on the ground with gruel for each meal. The thought made him laugh.

So, maybe her speedy turtle was not as speedy as he once was. "Come on, Rudolph." Raina gently pat the top of the slightly blue turtle's head. "It's okay. We'll get there when we get there. Take your time." She sighed and crossed her legs, sitting neatly atop the saddle. At their pace, she didn't even worry about bumps in the road.

She looked around. They had just gotten to the top of the hill, past everything she knew, the cobblestone walkways, the Stinky Pirate goers, her parents, her job, and her friends. She took a deep breath in and turned around, facing forward to where they were going. The view was much different. Just a dirt pathway for as far as she could see among the green grass and the occasional big oak tree. It seemed she was alone. She fell asleep as soon as the sun fell below the horizon.

The sun suddenly shone brightly on her. A drop of sweat falling from her forehead to her nose woke her up. Raina blinked and just sat there for a moment before wiping her face off and taking a slug of water. She looked down at the paper in her hands and remembered where she was going.

"There's 52 Woodford Lane." She squinted her eyes down at her map, then back up, confirming the numbers on the small wooden mailbox out front of a little shack. "That means... Almost there!" She perked up a bit and pointed to the direction Rudolph needed to go, shoving her piece of paper back into her skirt pocket.

As they approached what seemed to be a tent settlement, Raina hopped off her turtle and reached into one of her leather bags. She pulled out a thick handful of straw and grass and tossed it into Rudolph's happy choppers. "Good boy. I'll walk from here."

She seemed to strut into the tent community that had already begun to sprout up. Her clothes were bright red, making her stand out a bit more than she was comfortable for. She adjusted her top a bit and blew some of her longer blonde bangs away from her eyes. Her strutting quickly turned into long, slow strides giving off heavy "don't look at me" vibes.

She found a line starting behind a table with what appeared to be officials checking in recruits. She stood behind a small gnome with pink hair and lots of facial scars. He looked like a badass, so Raina made sure not to mess with him at all.

"NAME." When she got to the front, she smiled awkwardly. A short haired human female in heavy-looking, brightly-shining armor, stared at her unamused. "Uh. Raina Josawynn. I-I'm a mage and-"

"Of COURSE you're a mage. Look around you. You're all mages." The woman looked down at a clipboard, holding up a finger. "You'll be in tent 23. All the way at the end." Another official-looking person slammed a rolled-up bundle of blankets at her, which she barely caught and knocked a bit of breath out of her. The woman smiled. "You're closest to the edge of the forest there. Watch out for bears."

"Bears?" She blinked and was pushed out of the way for the next person in line. "NAME."

She began the walk to her tent, lugging her bundle of blankets on her back. As she passed a few people settling in, she overheard conversations of politics, families, and how awful this was all going to be for magic users. As she reached her tent at the very edge of the wooded area, her turtle Rudolph just made it to her.

"Good timing, friend. Thanks for coming with me." She smiled and invited him to the entrance of her tent, where she started to unravel the contents of her battle bundle. The blanket was scratchy and the tent was more like a blanket fort held up by two sticks as short as she was. But she smiled still. She pat her turtle and then went into her little shelter and started trying to get cozy.

People were filing into the camps, yet not one of them had bothered to report. Did they think it was a vacation, where they could simply camp out in tents and enjoy time together. Something akin to a growl escaped him as he stalked towards the makeshift camp. None of these people looked like warriors, now, too many of them were just skinny elves in fancy robes. Perfect.

A frown had found it's place on his face, and at this rate it would be there through the entire war. The line at the recruitment table wound through the camp, he ripped a piece of parchment from one of the people signing their new recruits in. His name was scrawled beside ten of the thirty tents. A few others made up the rest. At least he wasn't stuck in this alone. Tents 21 through 30, they each slept ten recruits. It wasn't much in terms of soldiers, but he wasn't expecting much to begin with. He was used to a thousand well trained soldiers under his command, not a hundred untrained civilians.

His section of the camp formed a circle, twelve tents in all around a large bonfire. Smoke billowed out from what he assumed to be the kitchen tent. Each section seemed to have one, and they may have been screwed over in the process. An angry cook, a short goblin with spiky white hair, came from the tent, muttering curses under his breath, the apron he wore caked in blood and flour. The sight made him laugh, these recruits were in for a wake up call, that was for sure.

"Recruits!" His voice was loud and booming as he stood in the center near the simmering bonfire. Only twenty of his hundred had checked in thus far, but he would not waste time waiting for them all to show up. A few people milled about, but no one seemed to heed his call. "Report!" He was loud, his tone brooked no arguments. A few peeked their heads out of the tent, to see who was yelling. His stance was that of someone in command and they milled towards him.

"Your training will begin today!" He had some rules to go over, but he wanted to wait until all of them were here, not willing to repeat himself. He motioned towards the tent beside the cooks, it was their supply tent and he knew it shoulder contain some practice armour and weapons. "Pair up, protect yourself, and grab a weapon. You may have magic powers, but that wont save you in battle. You will learn to fight, to protect yourself, your fellow soldiers, and your king."

He needed time to think of how to get them to train their magic without actually using it, a task he wasn't looking forward to, since he knew little about it. He could teach just about anyone to use a sword, that was where his skills lie. For the first time he was seriously beginning to doubt his King's wisdom in appointing him to this task.