(A little late on the post here, my apologies, but I wanted to get around to polishing and posting the third section to the Chet war saga.) Part 1: The Battle There’s an extended moment of detached calm, silence falling entirely but for the fluttering of a Dominion phoenix banner rustling in the winds. Robert stops, staring into the middle distance with all but a sedate turn of his head as he scans the battlefield, the details blurring. Dominion, Volarys and Silferian Soldiers still in a tenuous alliance clash against the last wave of defending Chet forces, bodies of both sides strewn about, battle lines all but lost as the final skirmish reaches a fever pitch. Arrows hit ground; armour and flesh alike, axes splinter shields and swords clash. Mouths roar open in victory and terror, battle cries and bloody screams that blend together all fall on deaf ears as the King stands, arm limp, his sword held in a faint grip as it slips slowly from his fingers to the mud below. Just to his left, Amiram, the worldbreaker, is earning his title as he effortlessly pushes a soldier from his feet before adjusting his hands on his colossal battleaxe as it lifts skyward, ready to fall back down and cleave clean through his poor opponent. Randall is far off to his right, barking orders and gesturing for arrow fire. He can see his brother's lips moving but the words never reach him. Finally, to his fore, an enemy soldier goes down with a spear through his gut, the wood splintering as he hits the ground, Brandyn throwing the broken haft aside as he draws a knife, lodging it firmly into the gap below a second opponents helm, the second body dropping as fast as the first. He watches in almost slow motion as his vision is gradually filled by a single enemy swordsman, brave or foolish he isn’t too sure, rushing him. One last ditch effort to kill the King and end the war. The sigil he wears contorts in strange, placid ways on his muddied light blue tunic as he brings his sword to bear, his shield arm zealously overextending as the blade drives towards the King’s head only to just as swiftly lose his own. A warhammer crashing into the foe’s faceplate, his body crumpling from the momentum of a failed backflip, his gambit ended as swiftly as it had begun. The hammer belonged to his Kingsguard, Zander Claythorne. The half-Eronidas completes the swing and takes up a defensive position around his Cousin- his King. “Your Majesty!” He shouts, the din of battle roaring back into Robert’s ears, screams cutting through his mental silence and steel once again clattering in his ears. Zander remains near him for a moment, brow etched with worry before the King once again grasps firmly the hilt of his longsword, meeting Zander’s gaze and hefting it into the air with a battle cry. “Æled!” screaming an older, much shortened version of a victory cheer as he charges back into the fray, Zander’s worry melting into a grin as he follows with a roar of his own. Part 2: The Aftermath The cries of battle have died down but the screams continue as Dominion soldiers kill off the stragglers, checking the bodies as they scour the mud sodden field of battle. Generals of all ranks sit in chains or are pushed bodily to open back carts, piled in cramped rows as prisoners of war. Had they complied with the surrender demands they would be sitting pretty in their halls by now, feasting and dancing, living as if so little had changed instead of decorating the inside of a prisoner cage, or worse. King Robert remains near the edge of the battlefield, boots soaked in mud, tunic in blood, as he fields questions and barks orders at his own generals. The more reports come in the more a picture begins to form, the nobility had left before the battle's conclusion, their King himself having fled with them. Their lands and armies however have fallen, irreplaceable, the Kingdom of Chet is no more. A content glimmer flickers across Robert’s lips at the thought of the victory, a joy at being able to leave the mire of war and return home, to his wife Queen Arwyn, to his people in Deldrimor and the Dominion lands bordering her. He was all too aware however that less were returning with him than had left, how easily a stray arrow or errant swing could have changed things so drastically. “No more.” He muttered to himself, the bitter thoughts of combat souring in his mind, “No more…” He repeats under his breath, knowing it is inevitable but vowing to fight against it all the same. Part 3: The Council The Council meeting room of the Deldrimor keep is bathed in the soft glow of evening, the sun setting slowly behind the forested hunting grounds around the capital as a babble of voices fight for dominance around the Council table. “-Stop. please.” Robert speaks, softly but with a certain conviction, his palm raised gently in the air. The muddled overlapping conversation stutters to a silence, all eyes turning to the King. “My mind is made up. Nothing you say will change that.” The words feel stuffy as they’re deadened by the small room, the rest of the inhabitants remain silent. “I can’t keep up the fight if I have none left to give.” There is a calm confidence to the words. “The people will be lost without a leader.” Maeva is the first to speak up, breaking the silence after a lengthy pause, lifting her gaze to meet the King’s from across the table. “That is why you will be there to lead them.” King Robert retorts, swiftly. The gathered council peer around at each other in uncertainty. “The people will be lost without you.” Volodar speaks up next, specifying what has been unspoken. His voice remains calm as he gently straightens out his shirt cuff. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m stepping back from public life, if but for a while.”turning to the Queen as he speaks with a subtle smile and receiving a reassuring nod in return. “This feels rash, your Majesty.” Amiram’s voice fills the room as he speaks, an urgency to the words “Your recent victories has the Kingdom's spirits high, now is the time to celebrate!” An expression crosses the King’s face at the mention of wars, still so fresh, a form of subtle distaste that only a few pick up on. Queen Arwyn’s hand rests gently on the King’s back. “We are all here to serve the crown, your majesty, but we cannot wear it for you.” Rasim speaks up for the first time in a while, gently pacing his words. “And you won’t need to.” Robert answered in kind, “I’ve spoken about it shortly to Maridie. You shall all take up expanded roles in the running of the Kingdom, the people shall not be lost as through my choice I rule through you in turn.” Spoken as a command as he gestures around to those sitting around the table. The gathered council members once again share a look, the expressions of uncertainty remain but abated, tinged with a subtle curiosity. Maridie however, nods in agreement. Robert looks around to ensure a moment's silence before gesturing to Maridie with a quiet, “Please.” Maridie, nodding once more in acknowledgement, clears her throat and begins to speak, “Rasim al-Mahdi, The Monk’s of Cressida shall continue their role as scribes, documenting and archiving the movements of the Dominion and you shall continue guiding them, now as Archbishop, the faith of the people.” Maridie peers at Rasim as she speaks, the latter looking around, taken a little off guard but she swiftly moves on before he can protest. “Volodar Aevaris.” Looking now to the Isldar, “Your work commanding the defences of Lumina has been noted and shall now cover the Dominion in its entirety. You will observe global politics and keep up close communication with the generals of the Dominion as Commander, the Charge of the people.” Volodar simply leans back, his hand resting thoughtfully at his chin. “and Amiram Sarkis,” Maridie continues, “The people need homes. We grow at a faster rate than we can house. Your time labouring for those people has given you ample experience to be our Foreman, the Bastion of the People.” Amiram nods, the uncertainty washing from his face entirely. “And I, Maridie Torbec shall act as Chancellor, the Voice of the people. Speaking for the Kingdom to draw in external allies, grow our borders and tighten our alliances.” Looking around at the mostly confounded group she straightens her back, clears her throat again and adds, “The first of those acts being to introduce the Paramount of Helmslot into the fold as a member of the King’s Council to act as Treasurer, the Wealth of the People, for a prosperous future.” She peers around the table once more with a wry smile, looking from person to person. Now it’s Robert’s turn to clear his throat, drawing the attention, “Maeva Arzowyn, your duties as High Paramount, my right hand, shall continue, though now expanded to that of the Registrar, Quill of the people, advising and keeping stock of the Kingdom logistics. Your first new order is to action the changes spoken of here.” There are a few more moments of silence as each person looks around the table, gauging the atmosphere before in near unison voices of agreement and acknowledgement merge into a more joyous chorus than the previous, dissonant one. “The Kingdom is now in your hands as much as mine, I’m certain to find it more prosperous still by the day.” King Robert stands, the Queen standing gently at his side, his counsellors scrambling to do the same. “Fire walk with you, your Majesty.” Rasim adds with a light bow. “Fire walk with you all.” Robert replies in return. _______________ Addendum Part of the Dominion 'Chronicles' 'Roleplay' scene. King Robert Claythorne belongs to @Sevak Amiram Sarkis belongs to @Traxex20 Randall Claythorne belongs to @Sunsh1ne901 Brandyn Reaver belongs to @Shaneski101 Zander Claythorne belongs to @Bl00dy ____ Queen Arwyn Claythorne belongs to @wynstiel Maeva Arzowyn belongs to @Chalsie Volodar Aevaris belongs to @Knyxo Rasim al-Mahdi belongs to @RazeII Maridie Torbec belongs to @Sweet_Dreams
