its, unfinished...
"This situatiuon cannot go unnoticed! If we do nothing then our forces shall be overrun!"
"We can defeat anything they throw at us. We have previous knowledge of our enemies. Let us not forget the war to maintain Quel'Thalas. Sure it was not an easy struggle, but we have learned so much more since then-"
"As have our enemies I'm sure. Let us not forget their abilities in magic as well. They are experts in the ways of healing and their master spell casters have developed ways to enhance their ranks physical abilities to levels we have never seen. Listen to me when I say that we must be ready for an attack!" The robed figure evoked respect from the council members. He did not appear any different than anyone else in the room, save the golden eagle emblem, worn by all High elves. His words voiced a man of royalty.
"My lord, such precautions would tax our citizens and our military forces to extreme levels. Imagine all this and they don't attack at all?" responded the armored elf across the hall.
"Yet imagine if we had nothing, and they attacked tomorrow. They very well could. You yourself have told me that our scouts have seen increased movement in the nearby woods." The emblem bearing elf sank into his chair and contemplated his options. His people had fought the ravenous trolls before, nearly two thousand years prior, a war his father, Dath'Remar, better known as Sunstrider, had led. The trolls were indeed defeated, yet Zul'Aman, the trolls home in the forest, still went unchecked. Any scouts sent deep into the woods were never seen again, and the elven lord could not afford to lose any more of his scouts. Living for thousands of years, as all elves do, the elf scouts had learned their trade well, and were not so easily replaced.
Though the lord had indeed made his decision, he knew he could do nothing about it without the other members of the Convocation of Silvermoon's approval. The Sunstrider Dynasty was still a major political power among Quel'Thalas, yet it had lost much of it's power once the Convocation had been created, and kings could no longer make decisions without the Convocations approval. The high elven lord repositioned himself in his chair, and continued on with the discussion.
"I am sorry my lord, but the council members and I have found that such a precaution is not worth taxing our people so heavily."
At this, the emblem bearing lord stood up from his chair and walked out in frustration.
"Insolent fools! Why can they not see what lies ahead? We have become to secure in our great city. Too small have our armies become. Too long have our warriors not trained, and the Trolls of Zul'Aman know this. They will surely attack soon." the king said to himself as he walked down the long corridors. The torches nearby ignited and eliminated all darkness in the halls as he approached. An old yet simple enchantment had been placed on the torches, and lights all over the spires of Quel'Thalas so they would only burn when there were those close by. A simple but effective spell to prevent the wasting of oil.
The long corridor in which the king headed was made of an ancient stone found in the land the elves now occupied. The stone, which the Trolls had also used to mark their dead's graves, believing that it was sacred, emitted a light purple hue, giving the shining spires, from the inside, a more magical feel. As the king neared the end of the hallway, the door at the end swung open of its own accord. The king, thinking nothing of the usual act, stepped inside his quarters where he could rest and ponder the events that had just unraveled. He collapsed onto his bed, as he so often did. The debates he often held with the Convocation frequently left him drained, physically and emotionally.
The king sat up, removed his armor, robes, and all his other regalia and effects, and lay down in his bed once more. He ran through the day's events in his mind one last time before finally falling asleep.
= = = = =
Thoradin surveyed the maps the scouts had drawn up of the enemy encampment. The men from the Arathi tribe and those whom Thoradin had just fought in the Melaki tribe hid in the fields of their unsuspecting enemy, the Denrathi tribe. The Denrathi were cunning engineers, and had made several ballistae contraptions, intended to hurl large rocks at their enemies, similar to that of a catapult only weaker. These ballistae were positioned at key points around the village. Though almost all of the tribes of humanity raided each other's settlements, none had been successful in getting away from the Denrathi tribe. All who had tried had failed when matched against such contraptions, though Thoradin did not intend to raid the village of its plunder, he intended to conquer it and incorporate them into his army, bolstering his forces.
A scout up in the front of the fields opened and closed his hand three times, the signal to advance. The men moved in slowly. At the end of the field, they crouched down, just out of sight of the village center. The smell of smoke was still in the air from the fires made earlier to prepare the Denrathi with food. A few men could be seen walking between the buildings, carrying on with their everyday lives. A few men around the camp could be seen, watching the area for signs of bandits, armed with swords.
"Go." was all Thoradin whispered to begin the attack. The guards, seeing the approaching force, began yelling toward the center of the city. Men everywhere ran for the armory for their weapons, but were soon stopped short by the Melaki soldiers who blocked their path. Some tried to beat their way in with their fists, but were cut down quickly. The Melaki had strict orders not to kill anyone who didn't resist, so they merely held their position. The Arathi men, led by Thoradin, continued through the city, quickly killing only those who opposed them, which was suprisingly few. When the city seemed to be in the control of Thoradin, a loud springing sound wailed through the air. Several of Thoradins men had been struck down by one of the ballistae. There were two at the far end of an opening that Thoradin had found himself pinned down in. Thinking quickly, he began yelling to the Melaki tribe, ordering them to the captured ballistae. Another shout went off and five more of Thoradin's men were killed. Two more shots went off, only these came from behind Thoradin. Both shots found their mark on the crew of one of the opposing ballistae, killing all but one. That one, and the crew of the remaining ballistae, seeing their defeat, surrendered.
The crews of the ballistae were taken to the center of town, near the captured armory, and held with those who the Melaki had captured. There, Thoradin approached the prisoners and began shouting to the whole town.
"My fellow man! Everyone hear me now. Not just the prisoners, but every member of the Denrathi tribe. I have a proposition for you all. Join us. It is my goal to unite all the tribes of humanity and create an empire!" Upon hearing this, many of the villagers began shouting in objection.
"That would mean we would have to ally ourselves with the Sedraethi!" shouted one man in protest.
"The other villages steal from one another all the time! We will not ally ourselves with them!" argued a young man. Thoradin expected such arguments, yet he was prepared to deal with them as well.
"This is true, but consider this: all of the tribes have stolen and robbed each other, even you. Now imagine, my brothers, a unified nation with no stealing from one another, a nation strong enough to combat the forest trolls, even strong enough to fight the esoteric elves. All of you will be equals with all the other tribes, and once our great campaign has ceased, we shall only fight when need be. Finally, my brothers, a world with peace. A civilized society of man working together! Imagine this all being yours. It can all happen if you just join me. The Melaki tribe had the same doubts as you, yet they eventually saw that a unified race of man could solve any problem they now faced. So, my brothers, what say you?" Thoradin eyed the crowd that had formed before and during his speech. Many were whispering to each other, while some nodded in agreement, while a few stubborn ones still shook their heads in frustration. One man stepped forward. He was a middle-aged man who wore a silver chestplate, was the only one in the village with armor, and had the muscles of a blacksmith, yet something in his eyes hinted he was more than a common metalworker.
"I accept on behalf of the Denrathi tribe. We pledge our loyalty to you and your people, Thoradin, so long as you keep your end of the bargain."
"Indeed I shall. May I might know the name of the one who leads the Denrathi people?" asked Thoradin.
"My name is Denradin my new lord." he replied as he knelt down on one knee. Likewise, all the citizens knelt with Denradin, showing respect to their new leader.
"Rise, my brother. We are all equals during the great campaign. You shall lead the Denrathi soldiers in combat, so long as all our tribes act as one, and you can follow my orders on the battlefield. Don't be afraid to question my commands, as i would rather have you catch my mistakes than the enemy. And don't call me 'lord' or 'liege'. Thoradin shall do fine." Raising his voice, Thoradin began to address the whole tribe again.
"We shall stay here for the night and wait for the supply caravans of the Arathi and Melaki tribes to arrive. In the meantime, tend to the wounded and get ready to move out. Tomorrow we continue our campaign with the Sedraethi tribe. Denradin, have your soldiers briefed on our hand signals, outfitted with their weapons, and have them pack their provisions. If the caravans dont arrive before sunrise, we move out with what we have." Denradin looked at Thoradin with an expression of admiration at what he was doing.
"Yes, my lord--er...Yes Thoradin." he replied as he ran off to tend to his tasks. Soon, thought Thoradin, a mighty empire shall emerge.
= = = = =
"My lord! Wake up my lord!" The king awoke from his slumber, only to see a foot soldier looking suprised and in a state of urgency.
"What is it? asked the king with some annoyance.
"The trolls King Rath'Mennar! Our scouts have reported a large troll warband has crossed the Zemanaad river from Zul'Aman and are beggining an asault on our outlying farmland. At this the king jumped out of his bed and donned his robe and grabbed his sword and other effects. As he strode out the door which opened upon his presence with geat speed, the foot soldier followed.
"When did the attacks begin? How many are there?" asked Rath'Mennar, almost in a state of panic.
"My lord! The Convocation awaits you in the main chamber. General Mren'Dantar will brief you and the rest of the council upon your arrival." The torches ignited upon Rath'Mennar's presence as he strode down the corridor to the Convocation's Chamber. The great oak doors of the chamber slowly swung open as he entered the room, and silently swung closed behind him. The council members waited with patience as the king found his seat and sat down upon it. Many of the members who argued against the king the day before held a look of disgrace upon their faces. In the center of the semi-circle oak table that made up the Convocation's workspace, a lone elf stood in full war regalia with his sword in its sheath at his side. The elf looked around the room, eyeing the king, among others. Rath'Mennar knew the general well. Being much older than he, the general had personally trained Rath'Mennar in the ways of combat and even some basic spellcraft, and had served under Sunstrider for many years.
"General Mren'Dantar, I believe there is a matter of great urgence which you must brief us on." stated one of the younger council members. As many of the younger council members were, this elf was impatient, and eager to get underway.
"Right then. Our scouts have reported that the forest trolls have begun an advance into Quel'Thalas. Two days ago, our spies reported a large troll warband leaving the forests of Zul'Aman. Yesterday, it was a vast number of the trolls had secured a beachhead on the coasts of Quel'Thalas, and that more were coming, and only today did we find that they had begun harassing some of our outer cities and farmland."
"How could they have possibly moved the amount of soldiers you suggest in such a short time? And if this happened days ago, why are finding out now!?" The council member seemed particularly angry at the general, though most of the others paid this no mind because they wanted to know the answers to the very same questions.
"The trolls managed to shoot out the horses from undrneath our scouts, hindering their ride here. Our camp at the shores of the Zemanaad fought valiantly, but it was only a matter of time before they would fall. A few men made it back to the outer gates to report what had happened." General Mren'Dantar paused, allowing the council members to take in the situation. A few hung their heads in contemplation, while others looked around, awaiting who would make the next move. The general was the first to break the silence.
"I propose a counter-attack. We must get them before their whole army has crossed. Perhaps then we can fortify our defenses at the river and hold them off."
"Rediculus! We should fortify the outer walls and hold our position. The idea of sending more elves out there to their deaths is udderly rediculus!" Rath'Mennar sat up in his chair and began to speak.
"Councilor, perhaps you should listen to Mren'Dantar. We have many citizens beyond the outer wall, and they would be hard pressed to make it behind the walls."
"My lord, perhaps you should consider the possibility that you are wrong here." coldly stated the councilor. The Convocation went silent at this challenge to the king.
"And perhaps you should consider the same for yourself counsilor! I don't seem to recall you ever being trained in the arts of war. And let us not forget it was you who assured us all that the trolls wouldn't attack. Perhaps you should remain silent on this issue and let the rest of the Convocation decide on the matters at hand." The counsilor grew furious, but knew better and sat down in his chair.
"If we are to take this course of action," continued the general, "then we should organize several batallions to keep their skirmishers from destroying the farmland, and to preoccupy their forces as we organize our main forces. We should use hit and run tactics to buy time for our forces." Mren'Dantar paused, and an uneasy look crossed his usually stern expression. "I must also suggest...that we send for aid." At this, Rath'Mennar's expression to one of intrigue. Most of the council appeared against the idea, as Mren'Dantar had expected.
"Who, may I ask, do you intend on calling upon?" asked the king.
"All of the races of this world would not care for the troubles of elves, save one. My scouts have been reporting that the men to the south are uniting, that they are gathering under one ruler, a ruler who is not only a great commander, but a great leader. I suggest we enlist the help of the man known as Thoradin.
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