Iron Hand Rule (2 vs 2)

((OOC: I'll be using Aslan for this fight. Please, experienced RPB'ers only. No offense. My teammate will post shortly.))

“It’s not possible! We’re going up against a major empire. You really expect us to do any damage?! We’ll die like dogs out there.”

The loud protesting echoed throughout the small wooden room lit only a few candles in the corners of the room. The dim fire light barely revealed one dirtied window in the room covered by tattered curtains. A rickety wooden table in the center of the room surrounded by five chairs as old a rotted away as the table. However they were still occupied by the men who called a meeting the in the run down shack behind the neighborhood tavern.

“We have allies. There are small factions in neighboring towns just like us. They’re ready to raise up in arms whenever we may need them because I made them the same promise.”

The flickering candlelight showed the man who desperately tried to raise the morale of his companions. His dark red hair was barely visible in the room as were his red eyes. His pale skin was the only thing that gave away that the man was there because his body was shrouded in a dark robe, the hood hanging off his shoulders.

“We don’t even know your name. You don’t even live here. Why are you willing to help us?” A man at the far end questioned.

“We share a common goal. To overthrow the king that has oppressed us for so long. My name is not important. All you need to know is that I’m a friend.” The red-haired man assured his companions. “Are you willing to fight or will you continue to serve your king? Tell me now because there are other people who are in need of my services.” He slowly stood from the table pushing the chair back and began toward the door.

“....You promise us weapons?” One man asked. “We can’t fight with pitchforks. You know this town has no army.”

The red-haired man smirked slightly as he turned toward table once more. “Do not worry about it. That is my job. Just ready the other villagers for war. We will attack in two weeks.” He quickly made his way out of the shack after his assurance.

He walked through the town slowly. His robe flapping in the wind. The moon was full and shone down upon the village. Wooden houses everywhere, livestock locked in makeshift barns. Large campfires providing light every thirty feet or so. There was nothing special about this town. Aside from being built atop one of the highest cliffs in the region. In fact it was one of the poorest towns under the control of King Nazim Capric I. His soldiers were stationed everywhere. Constantly watching over the town. They were judge, jury and executioner. They also kept a watchful eye out toward the cliffs for any impending dangers for King Nazim had made many enemies. As is the case when someone comes into power by force and rules with an iron hand.

The robed figure slowly made his way to village walls, his head hanging low, when a soldier stepped up to him.

“Where are you headed at this hour? The armored soldier asked, holding his spear dangerously close to the man’s neck.
The dark haired man simply lifted his head with a smirk and replied “One of my sheep has stray from the flock.”

The soldier slowly nodded his head and took a loud gulp as he lowered his spear. He slowly gave the single to the other soldiers stationed by the door for them to open the gates. He quietly retreated a few steps as the man made his way toward the open doors. He could hear the soldier wishing him luck in finding his lost sheep.

The wind rolled over the hills quietly. A gentle breeze on a clear night. The man looked up towards the sky as he continued on his way. He thought to himself ‘No clouds... damn. I rather like the rain.’ He continued upon his way slowly reaching the edge of the hill, the point to where he could see what lies down below. Off in the distance he could see the massive castle of King Nazim. The moons light touched down even upon the dark castle creating an ominous silhouette in the far off distance. Enough to send shivers down a grown mans spine when accompanied by the stories of what happened to villages past that dared to defy the King.

“You have a fetish for power Your Highness. Yet it’s that power that makes you so paranoid.” He chuckled softly as he spoke the next few words. “That paranoia might very well be your downfall.”

He finally reached the hills edge when he looked down upon the massive army that seemed to be awaiting him down below. Barely visible in the dark black armor the only person who could be seen clearly was the great General of Dragoons, Valmont Cardone. Valmont’s white hair, which he often tied into a ponytail leaving only two strands to come down on either side of his face, and icy blue eyes made him clearly visible even in the night. However that was all that could be seen. What was hidden in the darkness of the night was the massive black armor the he always wore. The armor that was crafted to make him look like the very dragon he claimed to receive his powers from. The gauntlets looked like claws and were just as capable. On the back there were even wings which he was able to control seemingly with his mind to bring himself aloft. His boots were replicas of dragons feet and he even had a large tail that was also part of the armor. He truly was proud to be a Dragoon.

“Ugh, why’s he here?” The man said as he ran his fingers through his short red hair. As he let out a soft groan and continued down the hill.

The army looked almost statuesque as the man drew closer. With each step he drew closer to the general. He seemed unmoved, undaunted by the army standing before him and then he finally he came within only a few steps of the massive Dragoon.

“You’re early.. and far too close.” the red haired man said he removed his robe to reveal the plate armor the had been hidden underneath. Black cloth shoes, pants, shirt and gloves were covered by scattered pieces of armor. Red shoulder guards, arm guards from his wrists to his elbows. Small plates shielding the back of his hands. A chest plate and a back plate, plate armor covering his thighs shins and the top of his feet.

“They’re going to revolt.” he spoke to the general as he snapped at a foot soldier awaiting his spear and sword.

“Do you really think this is fair Aslan? We set them up. It’s like leading a sheep to the slaughter.” Valmont replied.

“You know our King, Valmont. He wants loyalty. He likes to know who his allies are. These men are no allies. If they can be persuaded with empty promises and false hope then they deserve what they get.” Aslan replied.

“If you say so brother. You wyvern awaits you, as do your soldiers in the sky. They do well hiding in the night. I trust you know the plan?”

“Yes, yes I know brother. Wait for the signal. As for hiding well in the night” Aslan spoke as he walked up to a giant winged serpent with a saddle strapped to it’s back. He climbed atop and looked at Valmont. “I wish I could say the same for you.”Aslan gently kicked the wyvern in the ribs and it quickly took off into the air.

“Ok let’s move.” Valmont commanded as he spread his massive wings and with one flap he was off towards the village while the soldiers tried to catch up on foot.

Holding his broadsword in his right hand Valmont barreled closer and closer to the village. The wind ran through his hair and over his body. His Dragoon armor was light as a feather yet the most durable material known to the kingdom. He was blessed with the power of the Darkfire Dragon and because of this it was easy for him to grow to the rank of General.

He thought to himself as he neared the village walls ‘3...2..1..Here it goes.’

BOOM!

Valmont crashed through the wooden walls of the village with such a loud noise that nearly all the villagers had awakened and rushed out of their homes. He continued to barrel through the village for a few more seconds before spreading his wings to stop him in mid-air. He stood upright in the sky, his wings flapping to keep him aloft. He drew his blade and pointed it down upon the village and shouted in a booming voice.

“THIS VILLAGE IS CHARGED WITH TREASON AND CONSPIRACY TO OVERTHROW A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL FAMILY, KING NAZIM I!! THE PENALTY.. DEATH!”

Upon that last word the soldiers which so readily watched over the village quickly turned and began to feed the flames that lit the town. The fires began to engulf the homes and Valmont’s soldiers rushed through every opening they could find in the village walls. Beginning the slaughter that was ordered by their general. The sounds of men and women screaming filled the once peaceful night sky. Babies crying and animals bellowing when Valmont finally decided to touch ground.

“Leave the women they belong to the king now. Spare the children, they can be raised as soldiers.” Valmont ordered as he looked around at the tragedy.

“They have no weapons to defend themselves... they’re dying like dogs” He whispered quietly.

His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of his brother screaming as he descended upon the village. He dive bombed with his wyvern toward the ground accompanied by his own small army of ten wyvern riders. They hurled javelins down upon the villagers impaling everyone. Women, children and men all alike. He could hear his brother laughing as he continued his assault.

“YOU ARE TOO KIND BROTHER! THESE DOGS MUST BE TAUGHT A LESSON!”

Valmont lowered his head and closed his eyes until the attack was over. He knew there was no reason for him to enter to the fight, there were more then enough soldiers. Finally after but a few moments he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He looked up to see his brother staring back at him with concern.

“This was overkill don’t you think? You didn’t need my army here. You could have handled this yourself.” Valmont spoke quietly.

“It sets an example brother, no one will think of betraying the King again.” Aslan replied.

“I still think it was too much..” he slowly turned his head.

“That doesn’t matter now. We have company.”

[Osirus Lancet]

(OCC: Its been a long time, iam portals partner)

A cloaked figure walks through the massive castle of Nazim the first. The heel of the figures feet step on the granite floor of the enormous castle, Each step giving off distinct thud. This magnificent architectural achievement is lit up so well that not one inch is immersed in darkness. The silver color of the cloak glistens from the candlelight.

The figure walks to a huge mahogany door which seems to reach to the ceiling. Two guards stand watch in front of the door watching each step of the figured man as he approaches them. They draw their weapons, the one on the right holds a broadsword and the one on the left a spear. They point it toward the figure who stands about six feet tall.

“STAY WHERE YOU STAND SIR” one of the guards had blurted out.

Both guards hands had began to tremble, the blades where inches from the figures neck. Small strands of his long black hair had come out of the hood.

“I could kill you both right now” the figured man had said, He brought his hands up toward his head and shoved off the hood.

“I’ am LIEUTENANT AZRIAL and I am here to see king Nazim, now drop your weapons and open that damned door” Azrial had said.

The guards put down their weapons and apologized to azrial. They placed there weapons against the walls and grasped the huge circular handles and began to strain and pulled open the door to king nazim’s chambers.

Azrial walked into the kings chambers looking at the treasures he had acquired over his reign. He then approached the king and kneeled before him.

“Sire I request of you to allow me to join Aslan in his onslaught of the traitors” Azrial had said to the king.

The king looked down upon Lieutenant Azrial and said to him

“find General Valmont in the village off to the north and he will test your mettle.”

“Thank you sire I’ am in debt to you for your confidence in me, I shall prove my allegiance to you”

With that Azrial stands and then bows to the king. He then walks out of his chambers and out of the castle. His blue eyes began to shine for he knew he would see the joys of battle once again.

He had found his loyal wyvern Loki in it’s stable waiting for his rider. Azrial had mounted on the blue wyvern and pushed into his ribs to make him take flight.

The wyvern had a black mane running from the back of his head to where the saddle was mounted on him. There were several silver streaks running through it which would show the illusion of age. He rode through the nights sky the chilling breeze making it that he wants to fight even more.

Azrial looks down and sees Valmont standing and watching the slaughter of the people. He then pets the beast and then stands up upon the creature. Azrial then jumps off the wyvern heading head first toward the ground.

“May the kings protection be with you my fine pet” Azrial says to the wyvern.

He flips in the air and his cloak begins to fly up. Azrial lands creating a small ripple of the ground around him when he lands. The sound of the landing creates an imitation of thunder.

Azrial throws off his Silver cloak and a metallic blue color chain mail is shown through his silver plate armor that covers his chest, shoulders, and protecting his joints. Black pair of pants flow over his shoes.

Two daggers are sheathed on his left and right side of his chest. The specifics of these daggers are not yet known. A short black rod is connected diagonally.

Valmont walks toward Azrial and utters out

“YOU!”

Azrial then smirked at the general and said to him “The king had sent me to join in the onslaught, but it seems I have missed that chance”

Before Valmont has time to retort, Azrial hears footsteps to his right and sees two figures approach the two Valmont and himself.