Home of the Casterly family and its descendants, in a time after the Great war of Demons and Angels
After the death of Henry and Metia…who would lead the Casterly to greatness once more?
A hooded woman sat atop the broken down cart, while she gripped the leather reigns tight in her withered hands, Her face was shielded by her black cloak, as the border guards did a search of her cart, before snorting with disgust, at all the rotten food that attracted flies and maggots on the top of a large heap. One guard had to go behind a tree to be sick, as the other guard read her papers. Grimacing, he then gave clearance for her to pass into the Vaas lands, leaving the Night lands behind.
“Get going you old crone!” The guard ordered, while in the back ground, the sound of retching and coughing is heard. The old woman cracked her whip, and the tired looking horse started its march again, as the cart creaked and groaned, making its way onto the stone road of the Vaas Plains.
Beneath her hood, the woman gave a sigh of relief, and continued on her journey south.
Haven Castle – Vaas Lands
The throne room had been a place of solitude for the stand in monarch, Ira. Since the days of the end of the war, he had tried repeatedly to get the bodies of the late King and Queen of Casterly with no success. Selene had long since gone, after Prince Joffrey was sent to exile in a land where he could never again harm those of the Angels and their royals. Clarice was in the High Cloud Realm of Nadati with Rashna as her carer, since Ira thought it was unsafe for the young Princess to remain in Vaas lands during these dark times. There was one son, Derek, who was to take the Throne, if and when he was found. Many a Knight and messenger had been sent to neighbouring kingdoms to find the young Prince, but alas, he must have traveled far across the seas on his quest for enlightenment.
Standing in the same spot as his brother and late King, Henry; Ira stared out across the lands in the hope that one day, the Vaas Lands flags would fly on high, and a true King would sit upon the Casterly throne and serve the people once more.
“Lord…give us a sign. May Justice once again return to the land of Vaas.”
The Pyre – Vaas Lands
The winding path had gone on for a good few miles before finally the broken down cart came to the rise, and the hooded woman could see the large pyre site, where many were brought to be burned so they may continue into the next life. The horse’s legs were shaky as it made the last few steps, before collapsing in a heap. Death had finally come to the faithful mare, but she had brought her precious cargo home.
The old woman got down slowly from the driver’s seat, her black cloak draping across the ground, as she took the few steps to untie the horse from the rigging, and pat its fallen head.
“Thank you…may you now ride free, in the skies with God.”
Having said her peace, she moved around to the back of the cart, where she ripped back the large patched cloth, that showed the piles of rotting food. The stench was rank, and any normal person would have been sick then and there, but the rotten food was nothing more than a cover, for what lay beneath. Tipping up the cart, the food all slid off in a rancid pile, and beneath tied to the planks of the flooring of the cart, were the bodies of King Henry and his Queen. Their hands touching, united in death, but they had not been given the funeral and the burning of their bodies to set their souls free. The old woman untied the bodies and one by one, she carried them over to the large pile, which was made up of branches and wood, supplied by the people of Vaas, for the burning of their loved ones.
Once the pair were packed well on the top of the pyre, the old woman coughed and raised her hands to her hood, pulling it back. It was Nanny. The one that had given the Queen the chance to say her goodbyes, before she died of a broken heart. Their faces looked so serene, finally about to be joined in the final flight home. The dramatic escape from the Night lands, after retrieving their bodies from unmarked graves, was her duty to her grand daughter Tempest. If only she was here.
Nanny lit a large torch and then…she spoke the words to send them on their way. Her face was etched in sadness and sorrow as she held the torch on high.
“My Lord, King Henry and Queen Metia, you are now to find your way to God. Joined forever, may your eyes shine down from the stars above, and cast its love on your children. Guide them in the path to greatness and may Justice be served to those that ended your lives so soon. In the name of our Father…Amen.”
Nanny threw the large torch upon the pyre and it erupted into flame, as she sank to her knees and sobbed.
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(( ^ Amulet given to Nanny ))
“My Lord, King Henry and Queen Metia, you are now to find your way to God. Joined forever, may your eyes shine down from the stars above, and cast its love on your children. Guide them in the path to greatness and may Justice be served to those that ended your lives so soon. In the name of our Father…Amen.”
-The fire that this woman had lit was a beacon however as she it the fire she had called upon an Ancient and powerful ally for help. As the fire burned it was soon to turn from its fury orange red to a spiritual blue. As it seemed to give a gale noise that sounded like a those Angels singing from the heavens above. As the fire began to blaze in this blue spiritual color. The sky began to shift as the clouds began to part pushing a light down from above on the fire as a voice came out from the mists of the heavens sending this voice across the Vaas lands as a sign to those that Justice was coming forth.”FOR GREAT JUSTICE! -the instant the voice echoed the flame that was in front of the woman shot up into the sky creating a pillar of blue flames as it started to glow. This pillar would be able to be seen by all as a light within the flames shot straight down like a falling star glowing brightly like the heavens almighty glory this light would be bright enough to almost blind those that see it or quiver in fear of their lives. As the flames started to disappear a figure had been seen a gigantic eight foot tall hovering being that seemed to resemble man by his body shape alone. His face was covered by a hood that was white but shadowed when glancing directly into to the hood itself. His armor shined luminously as his aura was a bright white color so strong it was visible by all eyes. His armor was that of a paladin covering most of his body with royal heavenly strands of spikes sticking out. It was a gold and white color through the pattern. His shoulders had spikes along the back where bright long white strands that seemed to be wings that came out of his back were flailing around. The eight long white strands of light that were his wings were longer than his body and flailed behind him waving around leaving a slightly transparent look to them. At his waist was a long sword that looked almost like a broadsword. This blade looked like it would be worth a fortune with the send of the guard had an orb glowing in a spiritual blue glimpse. On the figures back that was just under his wings was a kite shield with a crest upon it of the heavens above it seemed to be his banner of glory. The figure looked upon the Elf and the woman who had called for Justice itself as he wondered who had summoned him from his slumber.- “You called for Justice? Here I am, speak your words young one for I shall understand why Justice is needed once more.” -his voice was stern and deep he sounded like human but had an echo within his own vocals. What was this being? It was Justice itself it was Jaliel Archangel Of Holy Justice, The Angel of the olden days where the Angels protected this realm and gave peace from destroying the great Evils in this world.-
Sobbing, the poor woman could only think to the memories of her last days in the Night lands, and how the family she once served so faithfully, had changed to the point of no longer being able to recognize them. The killing of the King was expected really. He walked into the lions den, and faced uncertain odds. The death of Metia was from a broken heart, as all her misadventures and affairs finally came out, killing any chance the King had to fight back.
Now, the fire burnt brightly, sending a beacon to the sky. She hoped their spirits were united finally, and that they forever more would never be parted. Tears spattered the ground at her feet, and she heaved a heavy sigh, as she knew she had done her final task as servant to the Brax. Would Tempest ever be aware of all that had happened in her name? Perhaps, the scribes will write about this series of events, and she would read it for herself, wherever she was now.
Nanny remained on her knees, her hands planted down upon the scorched earth, as she said her last prayer and was about to stand, when the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She got the feeling she was not alone, and…she wasn’t. A hand was placed upon her shoulder, which caused her to near jump out of her skin. Fearing it was a Nights land Knight, come to do her in, she saw when she looked over her shoulder, an elf with a dark green cloak.
“I’m sure they appreciate the effort you have made to grant them this final rest Miss and the name is Sozan Sorrowsong by the way wish we could have met under better circumstances…”
His voice was unnaturally high, and she blinked when he made his introduction to her. His name was Soren, and he appeared to be paying respects to the fallen King and Queen. She looked back at the burning pyre, and said;
“Sadly this is the worst of circumstances. I didn’t think I would get them this far, but it is done now, and hopefully Justice will one day be served.” Nanny bowed her head and fiddled with something in her dress pocket. “I am Nanny…just Nanny.” Again the tears started to fall, and the elf knelt down beside her, rubbing her back.
“I did not know them but i’m sure they where great people and commend you for doing what you have to guide them on their way to the heavens Ma’am…but rest assured whenever you need me most i will be there to help you as I am always watching..” He went to leave, but placed an amulet before her, which brought an end to her tears, as she reached to pick it up. Quizzically she looked back at the Elf who was walking away.
“Thank you…I will try not to get into trouble where I need it, but…I am honored all the same.”
Left on her own again, she sighed, and started to rise to her feet. The dust of the other pyres was all over her black cloak, like she had been working the pyres herself for years. She shoved the amulet into her over sized pocket, and then took a breath, as she tried to work out where to go from here. Little did she know, that in her words to God, another heard her. She glanced back at the fire, that had been an orange red flame, only to see it suddenly turn blue. This was an unnatural phenomenon, and she gasped as the sky erupted, with the clouds parting. Rolling back, as a loud voice thundered across the Vaas plains.
”FOR GREAT JUSTICE!”
Nanny threw up her hands in fear, and looked for a place to hide, but there was nothing on the mount except for the funeral pyre, that was still burning blue. Then a massive flame shot upward, higher and higher from the funeral pyre, bursting through the clouds. Nanny cowered at the sight. Clearly this was God’s work, and a great force was about to come to earth, like that of a shooting star, that formed into the shape of a man. A hooded Armour bearing man that had no face beneath his hood.
It was Justice…itself.
He walked towards the place of the Elf and the Nanny as Nanny brought her hand up to her eyes to shield her from the magnificence of the white brilliant strands that floated from the angel’s back, like whisps of brightly colored smoke.
“You called for Justice? Here I am, speak your words young one for I shall understand why Justice is needed once more.”
Nanny went back to kneeling, and then her hands clasped together as if in prayer.
“The Land of Vaas has lost its King and Queen, to the murderous hands of the King of Brax. I brought their bodies back here, to the Pyre so that their souls may be free and be joined every more in heaven. The people are crushed…and their true King is no where to be found. Prince Derek of Casterly. I served the royal house of Brax, and their is a Princess, one of dark and light. Her name is Tempest. Only she can unite the houses, but alas her location alludes me, and here I stand, with no one to serve….and no way of getting to the Castle of angels.”
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“I don’t trust her, Elleya. She hasn’t even given us her real name.” Riardon looked up his wife and eldest with barely contained frustration, whilst his younger children giggled and played around the fire that the woman they spoke of had built for them. Elleya eyed her husband warily before turning her eyes to the flame. “She has sworn to see us to our home. She has bestowed upon us her word to do so on pain of death.” “Then I shall gladly give it to her!” As the eldest, Thalden, rose and unsheathed his blade, an arrow found its way gently pressed against his temple. He froze, eyes wide as he gazed upon his father. “I would suggest, young master, that you instead refuse to pay me. I will gladly walk away without any gold than without my life.”
The young man’s panicked blue eyes met calm hazel orbs and an amused brow. The younger children had frozen moments ago, but now they suppressed giddy giggles. Calypso withdrew the arrow and backed away from Thalden, bowing her head slightly.
The night passed in such events, Calypso expecting each one of them. Three attempts were made on her life, but not even an injury befell the old angel. She and her employers walked in silence the next light, their journey almost spent. It was not long to the land of Casterly that they sought. They parted silently, a pouch dropped at Calypso’s feet at the lowest peak of the mountain. She called out good luck, but it was lost in the wind as Winona’s foreign tongue died on her own.
“… No dirweg, foe, pedin i phith in aníron, a nin ú-cheniathog. Sevig thû úan. Uin edhel, hîr vuin. Man de? Man i eneth dhîn? Im The Ranger estar. Ech Waste estathon. Ni cheniodh? No, I don’t suppose you do, filth. Where are you? Why do you follow this family?”
Bright eyes scanned the tree-line, a dull arrow drawn on her old friend’s bow. “Or do you follow me? Do you seek a grudge match? Are you truly a foe? Or do I waste my breath on daft ears, with not a single light of life to call upon the words?” She raised her bow, the tip focused unwaveringly on the trees.
[Translation: Beware, foe, I can say what I wish, and you will no understand me. You smell like a monster. I am not an Elf, my lord. Who are you? What is your name? They call me The Ranger. I'll call you Waste. Do you understand me?]
They say a man when seeking adventure turns to the sea for all its many mysteries and the voyages of discovery. It was no different with the Prince of Casterly. Derek had tired of living under his father’s roof at a time when King Henry had been more of a ghost than a father to him, shunning him and his wife for eight long years after the royal marriage was seen to be a sham. Little did the Prince know, as he sailed the seven seas with a trusty crew on the Lady Bass, that his parents had rekindled their love…but all too late. He had been in port at Ramshee, when news had come across the seas of the War between Angels and Demons. Prince Derek’s ship would take a good six months to get back to the lands of Vaas, so this would cause him to set sail from Ramshee, and make the journey homeward in a bid to join the war effort.
But a lot happens on a voyage and six months turned into twelve. Day by day, the Prince waited for a raven to come, and alert them to what was happening in their kingdom, but alas, the raven’s did not come. It was probably for the best, for little did the Prince realize that his realm had lost the war, and his Father and Mother had both died in the Land of the Brax family. There would be no welcome from his Parents when he returned to Vaas, only a country in mourning..
Standing on the top deck of the Lady Bass, the Prince was scanning the horizon with his eyeglass, as his first mate came up along side him. It was hard to recognize the Prince after so long at sea. He had a short beard, and his hair so long that it needed to be tied behind him in a ponytail, that sat flat down his back. When he had started his days as a pirate, he did so in rebellion of all the things he believed. Having a go at authority, and him being young, he got a harsh reality check, when he first came on board the Lady Bass.
The Captain of the day, a true terror of a man gave him grief, and made him scrub the decks and do the night watch till he could barely stand up from lack of sleep. But he learnt discipline, and came to respect the Captain and all he stood for. This was what he sorely needed. A figure that was more of a man, than he had pictured his father to be. Sadly, the Pirate Captain was murdered on one of the native islands after he had raped the Chieftain’s daughter when they attended a feast in the Captain’s honor. One too many drinks of kava and the Captain became a man who lusted for the bare breasted native girls, practically stealing one right from under the Chieftain’s nose…till he was caught. Many of the crew died that day, and a handful made it back to the ship. This was when Derek was voted in to become Captain, and so he took over from where Captain Bray left off. He learnt how to fight with cutlasses and was able to out drink any of his crew. Ah yes, he got the respect of his men.
Lowering his eyeglass, he let out a sigh. Another day without sighting the coast. They had enough rations to go on for another month at least, but his desire to return home was growing and he wondered what was waiting for him, when they made land.
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“Mae bennen, mellon, nîn a henion.” The ranger almost dropped her bow when the withered little woman emerged from the trees. She did, in fact, loose the arrow, but she quickly caught it. She then, in a show of less than Elvish grace, nearly toppled forward from the sudden burst of momentum, but managed to remain upright after a few steps. The elderly… something before her chuckled, then continued on in the common tongue. “I am no foe, friend. I merely seek passage to the lands of Casterly. It is rumour you can aid me.” Calypso gestured behind her with her hand. “There is the land you seek. That is the only aid I can give you.” The ranger could feel the other female’s frown as if it were across her own lips, and she took her moment of silence to restore her weapons. “Surely you can lead me all the way to my final destination. The Hall of Knights, or wherever they now gather.” The angel’s expression tightened at the though, but she answered quickly nonetheless. “My post is in the mountains.”
“You are a Wanderer, pinig. You are not bound to these mountains. I know your kind well, and they have not dwelled here in a long time. Truly it is fate that you are here when I seek my last journey.” Calypso found herself unable to look away from the woman now. She tilted her head to the side slightly. “I do not understand.” Another chuckle resounded from beneath the woman’s black hood, and the ranger did not know what it was brought forth by, nor did she think she wanted to. “I am an old woman, mellon. I’ll not make the journey should I undertake it myself.” The ranger fought the urge to point out that the woman had made it this far already, and instead closed some of the distance between them. “What business have you in Haven?” Same as the frown, Calypso felt the smile so deeply that she could barely contain a small smile of her own. “I am visiting some old friends before I no longer can. Please. Surely the promise of an elder finding joy with her companions in her last hours can persuade you? And no doubt a hefty sack of gold will.” Calypso shook her head. “I do not perform my tasks for the payment. There is no need to pay if you wish not to.”
“Those rags have seen better days, and so have you, dearest mellon. I wish to pay, and I have much to do so. Now, come along, you’ve quite obviously agreed and my joins are not agreeing with you.” The woman slung her bag into Calypso’s chest, not waiting for the ranger’s arms to grab it before beginning to walk. “Oh, and the smell would be the rat carcasses. I thought they’d be alright in the wee bag.”
~Introduction of Prince Bramt Toxark~
The dark forests of these mountains were often treacherous, for bandits and highwaymen abound to steal the rich purse from some wayward traveler. It took one with great courage, or stupidity to travel alone. One such individual who took on this challenge, to travel from the warring lands to that of the Vaas, was a dwarf whose name was legendary back amongst his own people. Prince Bramt Toxark, son of Knuxar. Why would a Prince be dressed like that of a lowly trader on a cart that had seen too many trails? That tale is for another time, but now we see our diminutive hero (lol) as he rides in the driver’s seat of his cart, that carried in it’s back 8 barrels of wine and ale to be taken to the Barrackus Inn, just shy of the Haven Castle grounds. He had other goods too. Furs, exotic silks and some spices, that he had acquired through shady means at the Port city of Shamersmoth.
This day, Bramt started out early after his rest stop at a nearby inn. Thinking that he would have no trouble at all making his way across the mountain, he was more jovial than usual as he hummed an old song that was sung around many a campfire back in his homeland. A long wooden pipe clenched between his teeth had wisps of smoke dance and swirl around his rough red beard and then off behind him. His faithful pony, Greta had managed to pull this great load for so many miles it was a miracle she was in such good health. But one thing about Bramt is he was diligent in the care of his pony, and his goods. He had come across scoundrels before that had tried to rob him of his purse and his cart, but little did they know that they were dealing with a warrior of note, who carried in his cart Steelclaw; his battle axe. Marked with runes and enchanted to be used only by its true master, he was often the last man standing in many a fight.
Over the hill he came, the subtle clip clop of Greta’s hooves along with the jangle of her harnesses would be heard by those in the vicinity. Bramt had his hood well down over his face so he would not be recognizable straight away to those he encountered and this day, he happened upon a ranger and a woman that looked to have been in some sort of plight. Bramt pulled hard up on the reigns, and withdrew the wooden pipe slowly from his teeth. He leaned forward and peered from beneath his hood at the ranger and the “rat” woman. In a gruff voice he uttered;
“Now there’s something you don’t see every day. A ranger carrying a sack that smelt more vile than a warlord’s armpit after a battle.” He coughed a slight laugh then sneered. “You be blocking my way, you women. So kindly…move ya skinny arses.”
Charming fellow…isn’t he?.
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