Dathon had gathered the armies of his Queen and led the charge to the current battle. Although the armies of Laegess were vast, Dathon was wise to leave 20,000 legions behind to defend his homeland. When others of their land heard of Dathon’s mission, they offered their services as well. Who knew if these dark creatures, having satisfied their dark lusts upon the angels, would then turn to the Fae and wreak their havoc?
And so…Fae Men, both young and old, powerful in their own right, marched with the Queen’s Armies into war.
They arrived upon the hill overlooking a grisly scene. Demons were slaughtering Angels left and right and those pure souls looked gravely outnumbered. Dathon’s keen eyes spotted Sirus as he hacked his way through a wall of Orc fighters.
He withdrew his sword and took up his shield.
“PROTECT THE PRINCE! FOR THE HONOR OF LAEGESS!” he shouted.
“FOR HONOR!” came the dozens of shouts behind him. With a roar, the armies of Laegess entered the fray.
Brandon watched without moving as the warlocks where slaughtered by the lone avenging angel before the angel fell back to the angelic camp. Once the angel had gotten back to the camp the king would chuckle softly as his aura drove the trolls and Orc’s deeper into a bloodlust spurring them to fight on no matter how many of them fell to the angel’s blades. With a uttered warcry the King would steer his steed wrath towards the thickest fighting between his horde of denizens of the dark and the forces of house casterly. Brandon would then dismount his horse before slowly striding towards the fighting after riding to its edge. Almost at once he would be mobbed by the angels seeking to end this war once and for all as he grinned beneath the helmet of his armor. With his trusty broadsword in hand he would parry a trio of angelic blades before cutting the three angels in half with one clean stroke. Then Brandon would proceed deeper into the fighting slaughtering any angel he came across before roaring a triumphant and dark warcry before turning and making his way back to his steed wrath. Brandon would then proceed to mount wrath before thundering off to the left flank where the angels where about to break through. Once he had arrived at the left flank he would steer wrath directly towards the angels while raising his broadsword high into the air with a second warcry. As he thundered through the angelic forces he would reap a heavy toll of death and destruction. With each pass through the angelic forces the sorely pressed demons would grow emboldened by their leader’s fearlessness and charge the now retreat angels and completely slaughtering what remained of them. With the threat dealt with Brandon would ride off to a ridge to surveil the battlefield before grunting softly as he took a reprieve from the fighting for the moment. It might have seemed Brandon was staying out of the fight for the moment but in fact he was looking for an opening to fully break the angelic forces spirit and he was sure that it would present itself soon enough. True Brandon was a warmonger but nothing gave him more satisfaction then to watch the forces of casterly freeze in terror when he seized the opening they had given him. “Ah the sounds of war are music to my ears…” Brandon whispered to himself before turning as the Laegess forces entered the fray. “Well well well seems we have more to slaughter seeing as another house has come to Casterly’s aide…but alas they will all be slaughtered none the less…” He then sighed gently while mounting his horse before bellowing out for all to hear within his massive horde. “DEATH TO HOUSE CASTERLY AND ITS ALLIES!!!” With that being said Brandon would steer wrath directly towards the unknown force seemingly coming to casterly’s aide before raising his broadsword high into the air. As he did this a flying wedge of demonic horsemen formed behind their king as they all charged head long towards the unknown force.Then with a loud resounding crash the flying wedge slammed into the forces lines reaping a heavy toll of death and destruction in one fell swoop before they wheeled around and came back through the lines with a second resounding crash of metal on metal reaping yet another toll of death and destruction at the cost of two horsemen. Though on their second pass they did not loop around but instead galloped away as the king bellowed. “ARCHER’S READY YOUR BOWS!!!” As one the demonic archers readied their bows and loosed a total of four volleys of poisoned arrows. Each arrow was poisoned with a potent coagulant meant to make the blood of the victim clot and slow until they died of an induced heart attack. Though the other two volleys where of flaming arrows dipped in pitch and light with a brazier. The arrows while in flight would blot out the sun so great was their volume.
Dathon gave a yell as he sliced through a dew trolls with his sword, screaming in rage as he fought to get close to Sirus. He made a promise to his mother to keep her son safe and he would give his own life to ensure this happened.
The cries and screams of death reached his ears as the evil forces slammed through the Faes before sweeping around for a second pass. Dathon watched as a few of the townspeople who’d come with thim took out a large giant before they were swept under the hooves of horses. He said a blessing for their safe passing into their next lives before he returned his attention to the matter at hand.
Again, the evil decimated another few fighters but did not circle for a third pass. Dathon worried for a moment before he discovered why.
He heard the yell of the leader on horseback. “ARCHER’S READY YOUR BOWS!!!”
Dathon turned to his own forces. “GATHER, CENTER!” he shouted. Laegessians who were still able to fight instantly responded, forming one gigantic circle, shields at the ready as they stood over the injured at their feet.
The arrows were let loose and they swarmed the sky, darker than the storm clouds over their heads.
“SHIELDS!” Dathon called. As one, the metallic shields were raised and before the arrows could find their marks, a large blue glow lit each shield in an unearthly light. With so many shields shoved together and so many lights forming, this effectively protected the Faes and the flying arrows bounced away as their combined Fae powers formed a very powerful protection against the deadly arrows.
Once the arrow storm had passed, the shields were lowered and each Fae stood proudly, eyes aglow with the unnatural blue light. Swords were raised high and Dathon shouted to one and all.
“LET THEM FEEL THE FULL FORCE OF OUR WRATH!”
As one, the swords were lowered and by the thousands, bolts of light flew from the swords, slamming into orcs, trolls, vampires and unearthly creatures in their paths. The screams of the dying demons of evil were music to the Faes ears and vastly cut down the evil army.
“CHARGE!” Dathon cried. As one, the Laegessian armies returned to battle once more.
Calypso, Winona, and Lucius fought blindly and separately, and had not seen one or the other, nor any of their more well acquainted comrades since the actual battle had begun. Suddenly, it seemed the angels were being forced back, the army of Brax advancing monstrously (no pun intended). Winona had still held hope, until she heard the cry from the enemy’s lines. She cried out more so to alarm both her opponents and her allies, but the noise was lost among the roars of the enemy and the screams of the wounded. Calypso heard as well, and immediately went in search of the King, still hacking at orcs and demons. She’d yet to actually kill one as far as she knew, but she didn’t have time to focus on dealing fatal blows. Being female and an angel drew the demons to her like moths to a light, and she could not give her life to defeat a simple foot soldier. No, she would not sacrifice herself unless it would save someone who mattered, or defeat an important opponent. She wanted her death to mean something, to turn the tide. She owed that to the House of Casterly, and she owed ever more to Sir Wayne. She heard a yell from somewhere, and linked the voice to Lucius, who had said something along the lines of get down. She did as she was told, but kept moving, hacking at knees and shins and ankles, when suddenly the enemy bodies in her immediate vicinity were simply… gone. She tried to yell something at Lucius when she felt it. It wasn’t fatal, but the arrow was painfully lodged through her thigh. Her yell turned into a cry of pain, but she kept moving as best she could, ignoring the offers of help from knights and yet another yell from Lucius. She resolved that she could no longer function on her injury, she spread her wings and took flight, her eyes scanning for her king. Her face took on a look of distress as she searched, unable to identify anything other than the differences between Brax men and Casterly men.
Meanwhile, Winona was somehow forced to cower behind her house’s protective shield. Though cowering was hardly what she was doing. She was trying to find Dathon among them, but she couldn’t see anything but backs. Funny. She always seemed to run into the man when the last person she wanted to see was him, but she couldn’t bloody find him on a battlefield for the sake of the battle.
And as if the new troubles were not enough, the light shining up from his brother’s hideaway in the mountains was frightening Lucius. Karena had it. His Queen needed it. He hesitated, but finally concentrated on transporting the Angel noblelady back to the castle. Little did he know that was the last place she should be.
Galain slowly stood from his kneeling position as he sighed softly knowing that he rarely if ever called upon the runes as he had done to slaughter the warlocks. The veteran angel then made his way towards his tent before being stopped by a diminutive goblin like creature. “what do you want?” The goblin like creature only smiled as he pulled a covered cage behind him before speaking with a reedy tone. “You want prize yes? only two hundred gold yes?” At that statement Galain merely raised a brow before speaking with a gruff tone. “Show me what’s covered first then i might be persuaded to pay up…” As Galain finished his sentence the goblin like creature shrugged and pulled off the cloth covering to reveal some sort of feline with grey eyes and a solid white fur with the occasional black check on her sides. “Where did you find this feline??” Galain would ask calmly as he reached for the gold pouch before tossing it to the goblin like creature who caught in midair while answering. “Mountains yes? She likes cold.” He would state simply before leaving the massive cage with the horse sized leopard within. Galain would shrug before plucking a feather from his left wing causing it to wither and become a black leather collar for the leopard. Now that Galain had purchased her from the trader he would open the cage and step into the cage before wrapping the black leather collar around her neck. Once he had her collared for all to see he would walk from the cage and towards his tent before speaking softly with a kind tone. “Lets get you washed up and dressed you look terrible from the way the trader has been treating you..” Apparently it had taken this feline to bring out the kindness and warmth once thought lost by Galain Nydale and he offered a kind smile as he spoke again. “Don’t worry I won’t hurt you at all.”
Was the leopard really so much scarier than the wolf, all she had wanted to do was crush their skulls in her jaws, just once, was that so bad. The cage had stopped, the goblin had informed her earlier that she was going to get a special treat today, and it appeared she was about to get that treat. She heard him talking, to a man most likely. She could hear the sounds of battle all around and off in the distance resonating with her beast. She wished she had remained higher in the mountains far out of reach just like her mother had instructed her the day she made her first kill.
She heard voices, the goblin was speaking to someone again, she leaned closer towards the bars listening going as still as she could. “You want prize yes? Only two hundred gold yes?” spoke the goblin. She chuffed, was that really all she was worth. The man responded his voice was low to her ears, rough so to speak. She stepped back, knowing that the goblin would reveal her soon, she decided, that it was best to remain in her feline form, make her scarier looking, yes that was the idea. She puffed up arched her back and struck a pose.
“Show me what’s covered first then I might be persuaded to pay up…”
The curtain fell away landing beside the cage in a pool of fabric, a gentle breeze blew by and she turned her nose to the scents carried with it. She stared at the man that seemed without much thought tossed the pouch of gold towards the goblin. Who accepted it with the same greedy light he stared at her with all the time.
“Where did you find this feline??” the man asked…he was an angel, she could see that now. What sort of mess might she have gotten herself into she wondered. “Mountains yes? She likes cold.” The goblin responded as he wondered away. Ha! Damn goblins stuck her in a sauna to make her more compliant! At least he left her with that much of a kind parting gift.
The man pulled a feather from his wings and it shaped itself into a collar. He entered her little cage that never felt big enough for all of her size in were form. She remained still, allowing this angel to brand her with the collar around her neck; she knew it wouldn’t last long. He stepped away leaving the cage open for her.
“Let’s get you washed up and dressed you look terrible from the way the trader has been treating you..” he commanded…hmm did he perhaps already know…she didn’t think so…not many knew she…or what she was existed. But he wasn’t finished talking “Don’t worry I won’t hurt you at all.”
She tilted the feline head and watched his retreating back, no; he might not now, but maybe later. She snarled baring her large fangs and leaped from the cage sending it reeling back by the force of her departure. She didn’t follow him though, she remained still watching.
The leopard body contorted, and she made a sharp mewling sound. Muscle rippled and the fur seemed to melt away. Bone snapped and popped and looked like it was moving underneath her skin. Her form was reshaping right before their eyes becoming smaller more compact until all that remained was a small woman on the ground curled into fetal position.
As the pain eased she stood on shaking legs, nude with a dark olive skin tone, her black hair fell around her shoulders like black satin and circled her body ending just below her hips in ragged edges. She stared forward with the same pale grey eyes of the snow leopard, glittering and just as deadly. His collar hung loose around her neck it meant for a much larger beast.
She smiled softly, and spoke forcing the words out of her dry throat. “not beast, Nimha, Name Nimha, I am Changeling Breed,” –
Once more, the evil armies slashed and hacked through the ranks of Faes, cutting down all within their path and leaving destruction and death in their wake. The horde began to thin out, signaling an end to the festivities for the moment to allow both sides to assess their dead and wounded, and to recoup. Soon the battle would wage once more, but for now, rest was needed and injuries had to be tended to before they could fester.
It was then Dathon spotted Sirus and ran to his side.
“My Lord! It is good to see you alive and well!” Dathon exclaimed, bowing at the heir’s feet. There was a large bruise forming at his temple were he’d been caught by the hilt of a sword but other than that, Dathon looked as if he could go a few more rounds. He stared upon Sirus, proud of the way the young man was still standing. It had been Dathon himself who’d taught Sirus the ways of battle and he cared for the boy as if he were his own. To see him alive and relatively unharmed did his heart good.
If Dathon died this day, he would do so with a glad heart, knowing the Kingdom of Laegess would be in good hands when Sirus took the crown.
The causalities on both sides was beyond measure, and the end of the days fighting brought with it the chance to take care of those that had been dismembered, the sick and the dying. Row upon row of tents lined the edge of the forest, and the return of the Knights was met with worried cries, and shouts from their squires and serfs. Fewer men were to be returning to their families, and already there were pyres burning, for those that would never be going home. King Henry, caked in blood and with damaged wings, rode his horse back into camp, followed by his brother Ira. Many were thankful that the King had survived to this point, and it gave them hope. The King was the shining light of the nation, and yet here he was, ready to die for that same people. His personal staff rushed out, and the King dismounted from his horse, which was led away to be cared for, as Ira followed suit. He had a huge gash on his forehead, and blood splatter along the right side of his face. He was no stranger to war and knew that this was one that had to be won. The two thrones entered their tent, the flap falling down behind, concealing them from view, as the royal order of Knights followed their King, riding on mass, and this brought out Gerald and Estelle from their tent.
“SIR WAYNE…SIR REGINALD!” Both were sights for sore eyes. Estelle gazed up at Sir Wayne with tearful eyes, and he got down off the horse, and before she could stop herself, she embraced him. Smiling softly he patted her back, before letting her go.
“Please, get us food and drink. We cannot win a war on empty stomachs.” Sir Wayne said, as Reginald collapsed down on a fallen log, and started to breath heavily. He looked up at Sir Wayne and said. “I just hope we get reinforcements. They got us on the back foot, even with the help of the Fae.”
Estelle quickly started to serve up stew she had made, preparing it in wooden bowls, before handing a meal to each of the Knights. She was just grateful that both were still alive. Especially Sir Wayne.
“We must have faith, Reg. Evil may have had the upper hand today…but tomorrow is a new day.” Sir Wayne said, taking a spoon full of stew, and eating it heartily.
Sirus knelt beside Dathon, and stared at him incredulously. He could hardly believe that the Fae army of the Laegess had joined in the war against the Brax. And here was his most trusted friend, sporting an egg like bruise on his forehead..
“You need that looked at.” Sirus said, whistling for some of the Fae squires and helpers to come and tend to Dathon, who did look like he could go a few rounds, but it was better to make sure he was fit for the following day.
All around them, was like a mini city of tents, with so many running to care for those returning from the battle fields. Those that were discussing tactics for the dawn of tomorrow. Sirus, had one wish. To make it home, to see Tempest again.
He clasped Dathon’s hand in his and made a vow. “We will bring honor to the Laegess, and win this war for all angels and fae alike.”
Seemed the Prince had grown up a tad, being a part of the Angel army.
Klaus finally rode in from the battle, on his massive Clydesdale. He looked battle hardened, and determined, as he awkwardly slid off the giant horse.
“M’lord Sirus….Dathan?” Klaus was shocked to see, him, but mighty impressed.
“Just…so you know, it was not my idea to join the war…just in case the Queen is looking to make someone pay the penalty for leading the Prince into danger.”
The veteran angel merely raised a brow before walking back to Nimha as she shifted from her leopard form and into her human form. He then sighed softly and nodded slowly before picking her up in his arms and carrying her to his tent where he gently deposited her in the wash basin before he set about scrubbing her clean of all grime and dirt. Once he had her cleaned he would help her out of the wash basin and begin to towel her dry before handing her a set of leather pants and a tunic. As soon as he as given her the clothing he would walk from the tent before waiting for her to dress as he sighed gently. “She’s unique and i must win her over and get her to trust me…but how..” He then spoke softly as he parted the tent flap. “I’m coming back in now Nimha…” He would then walk back into the tent before smiling gently as he marveled her beautiful form and nodded his liking to her attire. “You look wonderful Lady Nimha.” He would state softly as he kept his eyes locked with hers though instead of their normal cold they where warm and welcoming as he tried to win her over through acts of kindness and love. Though she was dressed she seemed thin and weak clearly in need of some food thought Galain. Without a sound Galain reached forward and tapped the collar not once but twice placing an enchantment upon it so that it would shift along with her shifting should she decide to shift forms again before it shrank until it fit snugly around her neck. Then Galain would peek out of the tent before taking Nimha’s hand and gently pulling her along with him to a table where the other knights where gather before he sat down and patted the spot next to him hoping she would take the proffered seat and have something to eat which she undoubtedly needed.
Brandon’s army moved from the fields of battle leaving the dead as they lay though they collected their wounded and brought them back for medical ministrations. As the night progressed though Brandon sat by the edge of the roaring fire staring it its depths contemplatively. If the demons knew anything about their king it was that when he was brooding and grinning like he was there was sure to be hell on the morrow. At the moment though Brandon had withdrawn his aura of bloodlust so that his warriors and horde could grab some much needed rest. Each tent that was risen was made from animal hides and looked much like a tepee. Though instead of being plain each tent was decorated with trophies to indicate how many angels and fae each warrior had slain but by far the kings was the most elaborate of them all. From countless campaigns and warmongering throughout the lands he had accrued quite the collection of trophies. As the fire began to smolder Brandon turned and cast his eyes towards the angelic armies camp before grinning as he entered his tent to sleep for the night. Several hours later Brandon awoke at the crack of dawn before rousing his men from their sleep with his aura rolling over them like a sea of rage and completely consuming them. With the rustle of countless tents being vacated and the sounds of demons and all alike suiting up for war filling the camp Brandon grinned to himself while whispering softly. “Its time for an early morning wake up call for Casterly and its allies…” Then with a grunt he moved from his tent suited in his armor plate before taking a legion of men and grinning a blood chilling grin. Silently the demons crept down the hill and towards Casterly and its allies camp. Though before long the sentries where dead thanks to arrows through the skull killing them outright. In a sudden burst of sound and motion Brandon moved across the clearing with his broadsword raised high bellowing. “DEATH TO HOUSE CASTERLY AND ITS ALLIES!!!” No sooner had Brandon bellowed that would his legion be hot on his heels as they rushed right into the camp slaughtering all within sight and torching tent after tent. As Brandon cut down knight after knight he would chuckle as his men fell upon the startled fae and angel alike with a savage fury while the king of Brax thought to himself. “Time to wake up and find death Casterly and your allies…” Then once the angel and fae forces began to gather in cohesion would Brandon snort knowing they would always watch the shadows now and this was what he wanted….House Casterly’s army always edgy and sleep deprived which would weaken their moral over time and their will to fight this war through to the end.
He sighed and approached her. His arms reaching out to grab her she tittered backwards a bit, ready to run. But his hands already circled her form and were lifting her frail body into his arms. She let out a very feline snarl baring her currently human teeth at him.
Mortified that he was even trying to be kind she gave him a few closed fisted swats against his chest and whatever else was in her path even kicking. Then he had the audacity do the one thing that would make a cat hate you for generations to come, he dropped her into a basin of water! Well she exaggerated a little bit on her anger, because after a while wading through rivers only cleaned away so much dirt, and she would have to live in the river to clean away the spunk of the trader’s camp.
She didn’t make it easy though, she would snap her teeth at fingers that got too close to…areas…even a slap or two to the facial region. He was foolish enough to try it, he better have been prepared! He had even been so kind to scrub her satin black hair with sweet smelling oil that made her nose itch. Course by that point she had given up fighting him and resorted to blowing bubbles in the water with a I’m-going-to-kill-you-in-your-sleep look on her face.
He seemed satisfied with his task of trying to clean her, and pulled her from the basin water and approached her with a towel, about to dry the water from her body. She stopped that and took the towel from him finished the task herself, but allowed him the privilege of drying her hair. That was a chore all its own.
Ha! Wouldn’t her ‘masters’ be ‘proud’ she didn’t learn a lick of respect as a slave, and she never was, or ever will be one. The angel, who still had not given her a name, which according to ‘lessons’ shouldn’t matter to her anyways, passed her a tunic and leather pants and then turn and left the tent. She arched a brow, the man had just washed her body without her consent…oh but watching her dress would have been disrespectful. A snarl on her lips she shoved her legs into the leather and tugged them up and over her hips fastening them tightly. They were loose on her frame, it would take some time to get her body back to the way it used to. She tugged on the tunic just as she heard his voice and the tent flap opening.
“I’m coming back in now Nimha…” he said.
Like she cared. He smiled at her, it was tender but his eyes told differently what he thought about her, even nodding to himself! “You look wonderful Lady Nimha.”
“No. not. Nimha, only Nimha. Not slave, Not lady, Not none,” she muttered feeling she needed to remind him that her name was just Nimha.
He stared at her, and she stared back. Her gaze wasn’t of awe or interest, but searching, flickering every once in a while as if looking for an opening to dart out of her cage. She could tell what he was doing, he wanted her to trust him, but that would never happen. He be kind now, they always were at first, but then she do something wrong, and they turn cruel.
He came close again and tapped the collar around her neck and it shrank, she squeaked feeling the band snapped to her neck snuggly and she clawed at it. Hissing, she found it was impossible the band wouldn’t even allow her to slip a nail underneath it.
Then he grabbed her hand and yanked her out into the open into the camp of men. She could hear the battle’s had die down for now. The knights gathered at a table where he joined them, patting a seat beside him. People glanced and she wondered how many saw her shift before and what they thought might happen with her. Nothing if she had any say in the matter.
The food though, looked enticing and she timidly approached taking careful steps towards the table as if she was hunting. Her eyes always shifted back and forth from every movement someone made. When It seemed like no one would make a grab or jump for her she approached the table and took handfuls of whatever food was with in her reach but not on someone else’s plate and stuffed her face with it.
She sat there a long time, simply eating and not paying anyone else much interest but for the food in front of her. Not even the ‘master’. But her ears perked then and she looked up, at first it seemed she was looking at the angel, but she wasn’t, she was staring beyond him. Instinct told her something was coming, something dangerous, as of what, she didn’t know.
Then she heard the shouts. She glance at the Angel, she wasn’t stupid, he would find her, but, she wasn’t sticking around for this. She leaped away from the table, almost turning it over from the force of her flight. At a safe distance she looked at the Angel man, and smiled, but it wasn’t a kind smile, it was a challenge so to speak.
“I bend to no one, Nimha is Freedom,” she said over the growing roar of war around them.
Then she turned away slipping past tents and knights while shifting in one fluid motion, muscle and bone snapping and crunching as they slide into new potions in her body. Fur grew along her flesh, like a ripple across water, long white and spotted to end with the large tail of the snow leopard. Then she was gone running from the camp site as fast as her exhausted body could carry her. She was betting on the unannounced chaos of attack would keep him from chasing after her. Not heeding the rough sensation around her neck from the collar that still remained in tack and snuggly in place. –
Looking down on the fighting that had once again started up at the crack of dawn, Prince Joffrey Brax, on the back of his mount Scorn, was chuckling beneath his dark helm, eyes of yellow glowering as the scene below had the battle field painted in the blood of angel, fae and demon alike. The Prince could see his father, fighting valiantly with a godly like ability massacring the foe with the might of the Demon lord. Joffrey expected nothing less.
“That’s right Father…cut them down where they stand. Oh how you love this part of the battle, eh?” Behind him, Joffrey had a whole contingent of three hundred of the demon’s finest knights, all pledged their allegiance to the Prince. Why you might ask? Well, let’s just say he is one devious little snake.
To the east, lay the Castle Haven, and this was a defining moment.
“When a King turns his back, he cannot see what is behind him. And that my fellow Knights, is what a snake counts on.”
He drew his sword up into the air, and shouted.
“WE MARCH ON CASTLE HAVEN!”
There was a resounding cheer and roar of approval as his knights did as he, brandishing and waving their swords, as the Prince was about to lead them in to conquer the Castle, right under the noses of both Kings.
Joffrey grinned to himself, as he sheathed his sword, and the demon cavalry started their push for the border, going around the war camps, so to make entry easier. This was not the plan of the Brax army….oh no. With the vial of the essence of Orion kept beneath his breast plate, Joffrey….had a devilish plan…one that was to shock all, who got in his way.
Overhead, there was a massive change in the air, as the cry of a loud vulture was heard screaming and squawking. Carrying a cage beneath it, that held in its talons, the Queen of Casterly. Captured by the evil Minerva, consort to the King Brandon. The clouds erupted into flowing seas of blood red mist, as witches by their hundreds flew back from their successful attack on the Haven Castle. If the King were to look to the sky, he would see his beloved and treasured Minerva, her sisters, and bitches of Brax, having performed the perfect rouse. The kidnapping of the Queen. What is a King without his Queen? And what kind of bargaining chip did this make for the war?
As Minerva flew back after the vulture, she reached for her collar, and rubbed the prized jewel, that linked her mind to that of her King. She whispered the words, for his ears alone.
“The deed is done, My Master, My King. We have the Queen, and shall take her to your chambers, to await her fate. DEATH TO THE CASTERLY IN YOUR NAME!”