Prologue A
A Gentle Wind
The rising sun peeks over the tiny peaks of Caranbough Hills, tinting the area in an orange-ish hue. The song of birds emerges from the trees of a nearby forest, soon to be disturbed by the trampling of two small groups of horses, with both groups approaching each other, each group having a rider dedicated to hold a banner high, topped by a white flag. One banner shows the Kingdom of Dunland, the other the Kingdom of Westwind. Both groups are spearheaded by their respective monarch, accompanied by a minimum presence of guardsmen.
Finally, the two groups slow down and come to a halt, keeping a respectable distance, yet close enough to not force shouting to be understood. The gaze of King Greoger Alfalm of Dunland is strained, cold, exhausted. Time did not pass mercifully for him. Meanwhile, the gaze of King Alwen Talos of Westwind was stern, stoic, yet the corners of his eyes betray his stone-like façade.
"... King Alfalm of Dunland. Once, we stood side by side. Was it thirty years ago? Thirty-five? And today, it is the first time I see your battle armanent from the front, with a face devoid of splendor."
"Alwen. As an old friend and a former battlebrother, I will forgive and forget your insult, but only once. We are here as enemies, not as two old fools to reminisce darker-yet-golden days of our youths. Yet, don’t forget whom you are speaking to, for I managed to rid the continent of most of the Darkspawn." "That you did, Hero of Light. Without you, my nation would be lost to the tides of darkness, and you have my eternal gratitude for that." "If you were truly grateful, surrender had always been an option." "With all due respect, Greoger, I cannot do that. The fate of Wyrmpeak and the Mamkute is as much of importance to Westwind as it is to Dunland. Maybe even more so." "You accuse Dunland to be less caring of their neighbors than Westwind. I have forgiven one insult, Alwen. I will not forgive a second one." "Forgive a king’s passion, old friend. I spoke out of line. Yet, it would be foolish to let only one nation take control of all Dragonstones in the absense of the Mamkute, it would upset the balance carefully designed by the Chosen, our ancestors that freed us all. Give us half, and no blood has to flow today. You may keep the land. Please, spare some time to think about..."In response, King Alfalm bites his thumb at the other king. Even with their faces covered, it is easy to see that the guardsmen on both sides are sweating and swallowing in anxiety.
"Since you uttered a second insult, this answer to your proposal is only fair." "... I can see that the Hero of Light is truly dead. Our armies shall soon meet, King Alfalm of Dunland."Both groups divide, each returning towards where they came from. Both kings darken their visage as they think of the ensuing final battle.
Prologue B
The Gust of Battle
The Dunlandic encampment near Caranbough Hills. Six beings, armored and battle-ready, stand around a map of the region, looking at and shifting around stones, coins and playing cards placed on it, in their minds maneuvering various troops in a potential iteration of the upcoming battle.
"There is little room for error when maneuvering these hills. Steady ground must be achieved before we can bring hell on those Westwind wyverns."Lady Vigrid of Dunland, of Minor Charos, representing the troops from the Duchy of Felworn along the northern Dunlandic coast. A large number of archers and other ballistic units are also in her charge.
"The same goes for their archers though. My men know how to ascend faster than any arrow can be nocked, we can achieve aerial superiority from the flanks easily from our hiding spots."Sir Jernigan of Dunland, of Minor Cuthel, a renowned Wyvern Knight leading the Red Wings of Dunland, the only division of Wyvern Riders within Dunland that is permanent. He not only commands the Red Wings in this war, but also the reserves of both Wyvern and Pegasus Riders.
"So yer say, Jern, but dem forest’s shady. Give ’em green an’ brown cloaks and dem tomeys gonna be impossible ta see, gonna blast ye away before ye can blink."Sir Worden of Dunland, of Minor Charos, representing the troops from the Duchy of Angbar, east of Central Dunland where the king resides. His dialect and general looks deceive his cunning mind and he is additionally responsible for fielding most tome-users.
"I shall handle the forest. A spy reported a supply camp nearby and if we make our sabotage noisy enough, it will distract any potential mages in the woods for long enough that their attention will be divided trying to search for me, Sir Jernigan. Dunland will control the air space today."Sir Dunas of Dunland, of no Blood, personally chosen by the king for special operations during the war. For that reason, his official designation as being in charge of infantry is more a technicality to confuse potential enemy spies not doing their homework properly.
"Excellent. So that’s why you picked up that ragtag bunch, small numbers mean perfect mobility. In that case, my men will perform the most gruesome fights at the front to mask your movements, Sir Dunas. Do not let their honorable sacrifice be in vain."Sir Dulosta of Dunland, of no Blood, representing the young Duchy of Lestern situated in the northeastern peninsula. His reputation as a fearsome combatant whose bloodlust is only surpassed by his success is known even alongside other nations despite only having been knighted recently, having been a loyal soldier of Lestern before since the Duchy had been formed in the late 260s.
"Hrmpf. Listen to those bloodless dogs buddying it up. Then again, takes two of you to come even close to the prowess of a true knight! I’ll give Westwind a reason to fear the blood of Charos and my front will be far more victorious than yours, Lestern whelp! Heh, who knows, I feel like I could best even the Scarlet Knight today!"Sir Thrum of Dunland, of Minor Charos, representing the Duchy of Thavios in southwest Dunland. A gloryhound, but if one would put their money where his mouth is, it would be a safe bet, for Sir Thrum can back up his confidence with his axe. The man who is actually in charge of the infantry officially assigned to Sir Dunas, and sharing cavarly duties with Sir Dulosta.
Together, they are the Six Knights, united in their cause even if five of them are currently rolling their eyes after Sir Thrum’s comment.
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Topic: Fire Emblem on Forums: Heritage of the Chosen (IC) (Read 31221 times)