Laments of the Forgotten.

 Laments of the Forgotten.

  Morsoram Medical Facility – (Caecyan Falcon Daithilus, Adrin Eitan, Adrin Eitan (Daithilus))

 The last of the ash fell like snowflakes upon Morsoram, the protective glow of victory’s eternal flames shone from the mouth of the volcano. The Fiend had been appeased and had blessed the island’s first High Priestess since the end of the First Umarian War left the Norian holdings on Ayenee blisted scars of desolation upon the landscape. The light had returned, and soon the banners would fly once more…

*

In the absence of the nurse and the priestess it allowed for matters of a more clandestine nature. Two figures clothed in ashen robes stood over the bed of Adrin. The one held a medical scanning device, sweeping it back and forth from the leader’s head down to his midsection and then back upwards; the second robed figure was loading a dermal injector.

*

“He will be alright, we can proceed as planned. Hurry.” Caecyan said, placing his right hand down on his son’s brow after setting down the medical scanner on his chest.

*

“Here…” the other spoke, familiar crystalline eyes looking towards Caecyan as he handed over the injector.

*

Caecyan took the injector, leaning forwards to press his lips upon his eldest son’s brow. “Wake up my boy, you have a world to claim. A time to change, a time to save.” He pressed the injector to Adrin’s neck and with a hiss the medication was delivered. The more advanced medical femtomechanicals rushed through the Prince’s bloodstream, working to move to the sites of his injuries to aide his body’s natural healing process. The more advanced technology from the Alpha Timeline worked rather quickly and Adrin began to stir beneath the sheet. Caecyan took the medical scanner and retracted back.

*

“We should get moving.” Caecyan said, a slight smile on his face as he looked toward the other, who now was visible from beneath the veil of shadow. The man in the other robe looked just like the one on the table.

*

“Good luck my brother in time. This world is brutal, but it is our time to rise. For no matter what time we live in we are Daithilus, we are Eitan, we are Amelliaus.” Adrin said to his counterpart that laid upon the table unconscious  He knew what the man was up against, but knew in the end he would prevail. “Our purpose is at hand.”  He then looked back to Caecyan. “Lets go..” He moved to stand beside the elder and their forms were taken together in a flash, dematerializing from the Temple and re materializing upon the massive CIS Concordia II that awaited in orbit.

*

CIS Concordia II – (Caecyan Falcon, Adrin Eitan)

*

Caecyan stepped down off the teleportation platform, pulling the hood of his robe back. The small teleporter on the bridge made things more accessible for higher ranked officers needing to return to duty stations. The Concordia was as majestic as her predessor which met it’s fate against the Umarians during the first war, the tragedy which had taken Niratheya from the Delata Timeline.

*

“We are detecting a Norian Fleet converging on this system, according to long-ranged scans it is the Allegiance.” The tactical officer alerted as Caecyan took position in front of the command chair of the Esprarthiquayito Continuum Flagship. “Patch up Navcon correction for Unyian Spiral…Set course for the Minaeus System, that should get us close enough to Deneb for our rendezvous.” The look on Falcon’s face was one of worry, something had went wrong during the shift – he couldn’t find Teal, the only thing he could hope was that she was safe along with Genovus and their other missing comrades.

*

“GATE Drive powering up, and preparing for transuniversal jump…” The NavCon officer called out over the intercom.

*

“Jump, Jump….Jump!” Caecyan said, ordering the ship to make the GATE jump. Unlike most vessels, the Concordia had no need to use the gate at Hellespawn, it could use it’s own GATE drive to make the jump between the Elysium and Unyian Spirals.

*

“Executing Jump.” The Navcon officer returned as the Concordia was enveloped by the GATE rift, and they blinked out of the Elysium Spiral.

*

 Caeycan Falcon Daithilus

*

To war my family…

To war we march…

Let our resolve be unbroken…

To Victory.

To Glory.

May time remember us…

*

The truth about their plans for the Delata would of caught the councils of their home time in shock.  Caecyan had but one intention, and that was to ensure he and his family took hold of the Chaos. He had come for war, and had no intention of letting anything stop him. Cohesion had to exist, they had to find the source of what had unraveled the time stream – there was only room for one.

*

*

 Adrin Eitan (Daithilus)

Silent steps crept up upon Teki as she stood before the newly restored fiend, draped in a grey robe Adrin stood but a pace from her back.

*

“We have plenty to accomplish, Morsoram is to be raised from its ashes…the first outpost of our conquest.” Adrin said with unwavering resolve, he raised his head slightly with his crystalline apatures beholding the magnificent form of Amojara. A smile raised the corner of his lips upwards. “Let us begin…” he whispered.

*

*

Morsoram Island.

The Rising Spirit of Grimoire.

Troop population: 350

Civilian population; 1050

Main Township:  Grimoire

Harbour:  Ardgour Habour.

From atop the rugged hillside that gazed down to the crystal blue waters of Ardgour Harbour, one could see the rise again of the banner of Eitan.  The cry of the heralds signaled the dawning of a new age, and thus all had brought their tools, the finest craftsman from the mainland and inner villages to recreate history.  It was nothing short of a miracle.  Pages of history turned back in time, to an age where the sword and will of people preserved the peace.   The people had long lived in the shadows of ruins and decay, which was now a hive of activity, swelling and bustling with busy hands set to work in the rebuilding of the seaside township of Grimoire.  Word had reached the populace via the communiqués from Ayenee that the Son had returned, to reclaim his rightful place.  To the people this meant the call to arms, and rebuilding of a town, renowned for its splendor in architecture and monuments that were testimony to an age long forgotten.

*

Massive slabs of granite and marble ferried down from the hillside mines on route to Grimoire, where stone masons and builders would set each stone in place, to build new temples to honour the gift from the Builder.  Carpenters and skilled craftsman worked in unison; whilst the shouts of food vendors touting their wares in the midst of town brought out the families, young and old.  Makeshift settlements had sprung up like mushrooms in the meadows surrounding the outskirts.  Faces wore smiles, eyes bright and words shared by the older generation to bring comfort to the very young.  An old man seated on a log, weaves his magic and tells of legendary tales of battles long since fought and won.  Surrounded by a flock of children who ‘ooh ‘and ‘ah’ to each word and phrase.  This generation shall know different, for the rising sun is truly blessed; hope and pride the catch cry of a people that had been in darkness too long.

*

Flags and banners fluttered upon tall masts to welcome the arrival of three hundred and fifty of the loyal and brave.  Tall, muscular and dressed resplendently in their military uniforms, proudly displaying the Eitan emblem upon their chests; for Morosarm was the traditional home of the Dark Order.  An army that was built purposefully by Adrin Eitan’s own design.  Loyal and devout, they lived to serve and honour the code; to show courage through adversity till death; the final breath..  Their gift would await them; the very first structure to be erected would be the Stone Fortress, to house and protect the chosen sons and daughters; Norian and human alike.  Working side by side, arm to arm.  A nationalistic sense of pride swelled in every heart.  The Stone fortress was built to a traditional design, but to a modern standard, with the very latest in defenses that would fell any oncoming insurgents who seek to destroy the new found peace.  With spires that reached up into the pale blue sky, the falcons had returned, and swooped with majesty upon nature’s breathe.  High above the turrets and crystal blue glass panes, that reflected the ambiance of the green-blue sea.

*

At the foot of the Stone Fortress, stood a row of officers dressed immaculately .  Rigid with their arms at their sides, hands clenched to fists.  The leaders of the newly established Dark Order welcomed the oncoming army who had arrived just in time on board special force shuttles from Ayenee for the opening.  General Rortaya was at the head of the row of officers, his jet black hair slicked back into a tight ponytail. Twenty five years of service; a decorated veteran and a man spoken well of by the troops that served under him.   A strong jaw line, with high raised cheek bones, pale lips and a scar that ran across his right eyelid from his brow to lower cheek.  They say some men carry their wounds internally, though General Rortaya wore his with pride.  To have survived a near fatal blow, and still rise again, shows great courage and determination.  As the honour guard passed, the General raised his arm diagonally across his chest with his fist clenched; a traditional salute that was matched by that of his men.  Where once Morsoarm Island lay in rack and ruin, with its barricaded walls pummeled by shells; riddled with gaping holes and the splatter of blood.   now they had prepared a force that would stand at the ready to defend and fight in the name of their Leader;  Adrin Eitan.

*

The march past of soldiers was watched on, not only by many residents of Morsoram Island, but one particular officer, who wore a traditional uniform, her collar upturned and marked with a row of bars.  Crystalline like eyes narrowed, and though she kept herself to attention, there was something about her, that set her apart from the other officers.  Slightly smaller ears than the Norians that stood alongside her, she appeared diminutive in stature, but her frame was shapely, curved hips, and a small chest.  Her flaming red hair was hooked behind her ears, and flowed down her back, tied together with a small gold clip the shape of a dragon’s head.  When the parade was over and all were accounted for within the Stone Fortress grounds, the General dismissed his other officers.  All accept one.

*

“Lieutenant Giana, a word if I may.  Walk with me.”  The General said, as he stepped towards her, extending his hand for her to follow him inside the grand iron gates.  The Lieutenant fell in step with the General, who towered over his young Lieutenant.  He looked down at her with a hint of admiration for one that had risen through the ranks, coming up first in her class, against some of Ayenee’s best.  Just inside the Fortress gates, training sessions had already commenced, upon grassy sections of the inner yard, the grunt and sound of men fighting hand to hand, with a rousing cheer from spectators that urged them on, brought a smile to the General’s lips.  “Word from the top brass say you are well adapt to handling your own, Lieutenant.  I would expect no less here, and having perused you service record, I have to say.  I would like to take an opportunity to spar with you.  Course, when all are settled.  The township is still in need of hands in building, and our job is to ensure their safety, and that the will of the Eitans be upheld.”  Coming to an abrupt halt before the training square, he folded his arms, and spoke in a hushed tone.  The General bent his head down, and uttered to her right ear.

*

“I know why you were sent here.  Make no mistake.  My word is my bond, and I shall keep true to the Elders in their decision.”  Raising his head, he spoke, yet not looking at her, but watching the fight before them. “You shall not be treated any differently. None shall know.”

*

The Lieutenant simply nodded, but her eyes held a strange glow to them, her face appearing solemn, daring not to show emotion before her own troops.

*

“I am but a servant to His will, General.  And it will be done.”  Lieutenant Giana replied.  Together the two stood side by side, united in conviction and resolve.  Loyalists to the end.

*

 

Morsoram Island  Role play Summary.

Morsoman.  An Island in Eastern Ayenee; forgotten by many upon the mainland.  Its heritage and history much like a castaway, cities of splendor and grandeur replaced by ruins and sweeping grassy hills.  Beneath the broken columns, and fallen statues lay a secret world.  The earth cries out for the tear of blood to bring back to life the faithful and servants of the Son.  Time and the elements washed away the tears of barren mothers.  A lost people that searched for answers; their cries unheard…..till now.

Propelled through the heavens; torn from the bosom of his wandering Mother, and cast down like a shooting star.  Spiriting from the heavens; in a burning flame of hope.   Not of this time, but sharing the same name.  He would rise once more as the Savior to the masses.

From within the fiery catacombs beneath a silent volcano, the drop of blood stirred the earth, and awoke Amojara in a frenzy of rage ang fury.  Unleashing a wave of hell fire and destruction that could only be appeased by sacrifice of the purest.  Lashing tentacles bearing the mighty swords slashed and were lifted on high; the roar of her spirit heard and felt across the grassy plains of Morsoram.

Teki Bonebard.  A Priestess and daughter of the Shayman read her bones and witnessed the falling of the Star, stirring within her the joy to at last follow her calling.  Chosen from birth, and released by her kin to be His Will, it would be Teki Bonebard who brought the sacrifice down into the volcano, and cut free the beating heart of innocence, to appease the Fiend of Morsoram’s terrible anger.  Selfless sacrifice was delivered twice that day.

This was the beginning….to be a glorious end.