The Elorian Siege

The Tyrant Saga: Chapter 2
Written By: Taylor Howe
Co-Written By: 'Crowskin'

The night was clear and harmonious, like the many nights of the beautiful Mortal Realm. The stars hung like a thousand distant glimmers in the sky above the peaceful, and sleepy landscape. The nightingale's echoed their serene melodies throughout the mountain forests, as these echoes, like always, surrounded the great Kingdom of Eloria with a soothing embrace of comfort.  

Seemingly not a soul within the mighty garrison walls stirred this breathtaking night. All street lamps had been doused, curtains drawn, and taverns closed. The great Kingdom of Eloria, lay sound asleep. Serenity was present and plentiful. 

Despite losing it's King and Queen, more than two whole years before, the great Kingdom managed to stay in balance; in an almost sobering peace. This peace, was largely to do with the man whom refused the throne, yet still remained as regent, until his son was of age to take his seat in the Court of Kings. 

A man that was, for most of his life, a wayward tavern-brawler that denied his duty and title, as the Prince of Eloria. He would often pick fights with Knights, and Noblemen alike. Be disrespectful to the Lords and Ladies of this fair and glorious Kingdom. Eloria owed him nothing, yet Prince Rico wanted everything, not in a way a King would want everything, but in a way a wandering journeyman would. He wanted to disappear, for people to forget his name, and to shed himself of his vain title of Prince. 

Often viewed as a disappointment by the people in his father's Kingdom, and a spoiled brat, to whom abused his power to evade all consequences. Rico was most definitely becoming the outcast, he dreamed he would eventually be.

That, was of course until the first time, in four centuries, that the Orcs showed up. Rico quickly found himself recruited by his father to lead the first stand at the call to arms. Rico was never any good with a sword, let alone built to be Knight material, and none of the Knights of the Kingdom thought so either. 

See, Rico in these younger years, was skilled with a longbow and had the most nimblest of fingers; when of course they were not gripped around a mug of ale. He could rapid fire, almost an entire quiver, in the time it took most of his regiment to garner a good clean shot at an enemy. He was agile, quick, and fearless, all traits that seemed to be aided by his affinity for alcohol.

However, the first presence of the Orcs, in what drew out to be a year long Orc War, sobered him up pretty quick.

Consistently, ground was won and lost. Villages burnt, towns plundered, and the people, of the once protected Kingdom, were living in fear. During these moments of Rico's life, his wits and cunning, were all he lived on. Day in and day out his loyalty to his father's crown was put to the test, as he saw innocent people become victims of the savages from the Ravage Realm.

Through these trials and tribulations, Rico grew to be a fair, but painfully stubborn leader as he aged. He drew upon the only non-intoxicated experiences he knew, and with those, he based his iron-clad decisions. Experiences, like that of being an archer in the 5th regiment, during Eloria's climatic fight with Brute King Galthragar The Wretched. Of course, this Orc King being the father of, Omgoth The Feared.  

Despite his truest of intentions, and what was now, his barely sober judgment; Rico still blamed himself for his King's death during this fight. For it was just the evening before the dire siege of the Orc War, that Rico, finally feeling free from a year of watchful eyes, indulged in a night of hardy celebration. The first in what seemed to be a long while, and would ultimately be his last, as the following morning would be all the rehabilitation he would need.

Still wobbly from the his late night escapades, the dawn brought about an untimely demise of both Rico's Father and his accuracy. Rico could not load the nock of his longbow without fumbling, let alone fire an accurate enough shot when needed; and conveniently this is when his Kingdom needed that shot the most. It was Rico's task to monitor the whereabouts of the, then Orc Brute Omgoth, and it was coincidentally this, of all mornings, that the Orcs attempted to make one final push towards the Stronghold.

Arriving too late to his post and barely focused on his assignment, Rico witnessed the most horrific sight of his life, and ultimately the darkest time in the glorious Elorian history. The Orc Brute Omgoth, emerged from a hidden grass embankment during the Orcs final stand, and decapitated the Great King of Eloria in broad daylight.

It was on this day, Omgoth garnered his moniker of the most feared Orc in all the lands, and it was on this day, Rico vowed to no longer let his judgment be clouded again.

In an Orc moment of Glory, it was a Prince's moment of regret. A King he swore to protect, a Kingdom he failed to honour, and a Father he had disappointed for the final time; Rico wore this burden heavy around his neck. Eloria may have won the War that day, but what they lost, Rico felt in the deepest of guilt, that he could never replicate again and that was...Kingship.

None of his qualities, he believed, would make him a good King to the people of Eloria. Rico felt the people deserved a Monarch, or a Nobleman; not a boozy, arrogant veteran of the Orc War. But, for better or worse, he was thrust into the role of regent by his mother's side, in the Court of Kings.

Two years later...upon the unexplained disappearance of the Queen of Eloria and a Kingdom with no true King; Rico still manages to hold everything together. The people seem happy, safe and content with his temporary rule, as they eagerly await for his son, Alero, to take the throne. The boy whom shows promise, and is well versed with a sword in hand, resembling everything Rico wished he could have been to his father.

That is why, when it appears that the whole Kingdom lay soundly asleep, it is Rico that paces his room, burdened by these memories. Stopping momentarily to scribble down almost illegible words onto parchment, Rico has a gut feeling that a two year peace, seems two years too long. This accompanied by fruitless ventures, and exhausted search parties for his mother, the Queen, that seemed to disappear into thin air; brings caution on the chilled breeze through his chamber window.            

As he pauses a moment, starring out his stone cold window frame, Rico's eyes scan the splay of stars in the distance. It is at this flickering moment of clarity, when he notices exactly what his gut feeling was trying to portray. Barely visible upon the black horizon, Rico witnesses a very small warm glitter along the edges of the Dark Woods. He leans closer, squinting to notice, that it was in fact, a distant light of a torch passing from beyond the treeline. And then another. And another still. One quickly becomes dozens, and dozens rapidly surge to hundreds. Rico's eyes widened, as his heart quickened in his chest, the moment he feared would happen was upon them. Omgoth had returned.

Rico then turns and darts to his chamber door. He opens it just enough to expose but a faction of his face to the closest squire beyond his quarters. Rico motions to him to come quickly. The squire rushes over to the crack in the heavy wooden door, as he awaits Rico's orders.

Rico whispers in a calm, yet urgent tone of voice, "Quietly alert the guards. Tell them to sound the alarm. Go with haste, talk to no one, we need not hysteria."

The loyal aspiring squire, after hearing Rico's demands, hasty fleet footed his way down the dark hallway of the castle.

Rico, closing the door behind him, returned back to his study table and grabbed his lit candelabra. Folding up his scribbled-on parchment, he poured the hot wax onto the seam, sealing it closed. He put down the candelabra, licked his fingers, and snuffed out the flames. Rico reached into his lapel of his nobleman shirt and pulled out a golden ring on a fair chain. The ring had the Royal Lion Seal of Eloria, and with it he pressed into the wax, sealing the parchment as to mark it with the stamp of the Kingdom. Grabbing the sealed letter with the golden ring, he slipped them both into his lapel pocket and left his study table for the door.   

Meanwhile, the young nameless squire reached the garrison wall, climbing up the cobblestone staircase to the top; he could now see what Rico was taking about. The squire trying not to panic, for he had a task to complete, ran to the closest familiar face he could find.

Lord Asher, stood bold and strong in the nearby keep, as the squire came rushing up to him.

He spoke hastily and jumbled, from his lack of breath, and hysteria beginning to set in, "Rico...alarms...sound the Rico...said sound the alarms!"

Lord Asher, without hesitation nodded to the nearby sentry guard to do as the boy said, and then took to the window of the keep to see why his Regent had asked for the alarms to be sounded, on the most peaceful of nights. It was then, Lord Asher happens upon a count of torch lights, by what had to be, in the thousands now. 

Asher turned back to the panting squire and said with authority, "Get to your family boy...warn them that Eloria is under attack!"

It was at this very moment that the loud and piercing drone of the large warning bell pierced the sombre silence of the Kingdom.

DING! DING! DING!

Unmistakable and deafening, the toll of the bell could only mean one thing to the Elorian people...war has come for them in the dead of night.

Lord Asher pulled the cool night air into his lungs and drew his sword, as he turned to the cluster of now bustling barracks below him. Asher yelled to his men and fellow Knights "Ready yourselves men! The Orcs are on the horizon...they outnumber us at the rate of about twenty to one by the looks of it..."

Gripping his sword more tightly, as he mustered up the gumption to raise it above his head like the Lord Knight he was. He spoke without nervousness and with the utmost of clarity, "Hear my words...despite the odds...tonight we as a unified Kingdom will hold the Castle walls!"

The gathered Knights and soldiers of Eloria watched on, as they glared back at him without fear. Full of the pride he shared with all of them as they roared back in unison, "OORAAHH!"

Lifting his glimmering Duskblade to point to the Stronghold Of The Mortal Flame behind them all, Lord Asher spoke unencumbered by fear, and embolden with courage, "Men, Knights, Champions of Eloria...We are strong...we are unbreakable...we are all fuelled by that Mortal Flame, as it burns in the Stronghold, it burns in our hearts! Eloria has not fallen in centuries...and tonight it shall be no different!"

With the same empowered chant, reverberating the garrison walls of the surrounding keeps, in unison once again the army of Eloria responded, "OORAAHH!"

It was then, in the distance, trained ears could hear the sound of a war horn echo across the land throughout the mountains. It's rise and fall unmistakable. Indeed the Orcs were coming, and this was no trick or bluff. The horn was soon accompanied by drumming - both primal and deep. Without a shadow of a doubt they had come for bloodshed.

                                                                                      ****

Rico, already standing within the keep that Lord Asher had stepped out from, awaited his closest friend to return to it. It was at that moment, an acolyte, garnished in a cloak of royal blue stepped out of the darkness towards Rico. Without speaking words, Rico almost telepathically told the acolyte what was to be the next course of action. The acolyte nodded in return, as if understanding a message with no words, and disappeared back into the shadowy corner of the keep, just before Lord Asher returned to confront Rico. 

"A little too much for my taste Asher, but I'm glad it was you to speak and not me...I never know what to say to them...let alone in a time like this." Rico shamefully admitted to his closest friend.

"Tell me you have a plan Rico...you always have a plan..." Lord Asher rebutted.

Responding almost immediately, however with hesitation in his voice, "This time old friend, I'm not so sure. Alero isn't ready to be King and if we don't get Alvar's help, we might not make it through the night..."

Challenging Rico in only a way he knew how to, Lord Asher spoke freely to his Regent, "That's your plan Rico...Alvar? The Elves have never helped us in the past, you know this! Ravenheart doesn't ever leave his Castle, let alone send anyone else out from behind it's walls...They will not come to our aide...you know this!" 

Rico then drew the letter from his lapel and and held it out to his closest friend while he spoke, "Give this to your most trusted rider...but it cannot be Knight...we need as many able fighters as we can, besides we cannot afford to draw more attention to ourselves...send your servant boy...he rides well...no?" Before Lord Asher could give reply with complete disdain and shock for what he was hearing from his sovereign, Rico spoke again, "That boy Hector...I know there is something about him that I trust...he will do well send that servant boy...do not question this! He does the work of the Hood now!"

Lord Asher nodded in agreement, and without question, as he had really no time to question things anyways. The Orcs would be at the castle before dawn and he must get everyone to fortify the walls. 

Rico turned away from Asher, flipping up his hood, and walked into the darkest part of the keep where the acolyte vanished to prior to their conversation.   

Lord Asher walked out of the keep and down the hallways to his chambers at a blistering pace, his mission divided between two fronts. Deliver a letter to a servant boy, to be their long shot hope of an Elven reinforcement, whilst readying the Kingdom for the great threat it has ever been presented in modern history.

As the guards rush past, each one sharing that same flurry of adrenaline in their eyes. Asher side-steps them, and continues down the hall to where Hector's room lay. And as if already called, the young servant boy, no more than 15 years of age, slips his head out from his doorway. His shaggy hair falling past his piercing eyes as he spots his Lord with a worried gaze.

"My Lord...are you needing something, my Lord...", Hector spoke with a nervous crackle in his voice.

With an enforced tone in his powerful voice, Asher responded to his servant, "The Orcs are coming, get your things. Rico has a task for you!"

Replying almost immediately, "Rico? My Lord? What could our Liege want with me?"

"You must gather my horse, for it is the fastest amongst the horses in the stables, as you know...and you must deliver this letter to the King of Alvar, Lord Ravenheart!", Asher spoke precisely and firm as he extended his gauntlet holding the letter marked with the Royal Lion Seal of Eloria.

It was from this seal that Hector knew immediately of it's importance, and therefore wasted no time. He grabbed his satchel, stuffing it with some scraps of food from his bedside table, and grabbed the letter. Hector tucked it into his front pouch of his bag and ran off down the stairwell towards the Royal Stables, leaving Asher to return to his men; and the impending doom of the Orc invasion.  

In his flurried frantic pace down the winding staircase, Hector ran into the boy soon to be King, Rico's son, Alero; whose arms were full of his own belongings that were almost knocked from his grasp due to this abrupt collision. Stopping but a moment, to share a mutual look of worry and confusion, Hector knew he was going to have to an least answer for his somewhat of an aggressive encounter. 

"Hector!" Alero shouted as Hector knocked him off balance and into the stone wall. Alero immediately questioned Hector, "Accuse you! Have you seen my father? I cannot seem find him in all this chaos..."

Hector not wanting to be dismissive, but knew time was surely of the essence, responded whilst continuing to run down the stairwell, his voice echoed as he descended, "No! But if I had to hazard a guess he would be in the armoury...the men are readying themselves for war! Your father would most likely be there!"

Alero taken back by this, and quite simply panicked as well, turned around and rushed down the stairs after him. Be it in the weight of his own belongings, or the stress of everything going on, Alero had found himself near breathless and panting as he pursued Hector for what seemed to be an endless amount of time.

It didn't make sense to him, why was Hector rushing to the Royal Stables as if to flee, he has always been a loyal servant. Why now the sudden change of heart, he thought to himself.

The young sovereign knew he had to find his father, and Hector, despite most recent suspicions, was most likely right. If he had the best chance of finding his father amidst the chaos, it would be in the armoury. So, off he went down the surprisingly empty halls towards the armoury below the castle. 

Considering the busy activity and the impending doom of war lingering, Alero assumed the armoury would be a hub of bodies rushing around upon his arrival - his father chief among them. However, it was shockingly empty. It seemed eerily quiet, yet the entire place was lit by torchlight as if people had already been down there.

It wasn't long however, before the chaos found him. Soldiers, guards, and any able bodied warrior capable of wielding a weapon amassed there, grabbing what they could and leaving in a flurry. They gathered shields, swords, spears, and arrows - whatever weapons were within reach. In this mass panic, a loyal Knight of Eloria, Lord Baldor, stopped to question the boy sovereign, as he could see Alero was trying desperately to avoid the mad rush of wartime preparation.

"My Liege! What are you doing down here?" Lord Baldor, one of the oldest Knights to join the Court of Kings, asked the boy.

"I figured my Father would be down here." Alero sputtered out, now getting really nervous about his father's whereabouts.

Lord Baldor's keen eyes glanced carefully towards Alero, he could see the panic and concern in his face. Baldor then spoke firmly to the boy, "We will find him at once my liege! Wait here!"

Just like that, Lord Baldor and his Knights, cleared out of the armoury weapons in hand. They left in search of their Regent Rico, whilst leaving the young Alero alone in a seemingly empty armoury. This is when, the same blue hooded acolyte, that confronted Rico earlier in the keep, stepped out of a dark corner from behind Alero. He did not say a word, so it did not alert the boy of his presence. The acolyte only raised up his hand and covered the young sovereigns mouth to prevent him from screaming. He clearly did not want to draw any attention to the situation, of kidnapping the soon to be King of Eloria. 

Alero attempted to struggle briefly, until the acolyte's eyes began to glow blue with Majik beneath the hood. Some sort of sleep spell was cast on the boy, and just like that, Alero was knocked out.

The acolyte was then joined by two others, both wearing the same blue hooded cloaks, and the three of them carried the young sovereign deeper into the darkness below the Castle.      

Meanwhile, Lord Baldor and his Knights rushed to the garrison wall in hopes of seeing Rico, but instead was met by Lord Asher. Baldor asked his fellow Lord, "Have you seen the Regent? His son is in the armoury waiting for him!"

Lord Asher looked at Lord Baldor and spoke surprisingly calm given the current situation, "The boy has no need for Rico now...He will be safer with the Hood. But you need to come with me to the lower garrison wall...the knights and us will need to ready a braced shield wall...Rico's orders."

Lord Baldor, nodded in agreement, as his loyalty lies with Eloria, and not to the Hood. As they both turned to to hustle to the lower garrison wall, they both managed to catch the eye of the Regent Marksmen Rico with his longbow strapped safely to his back. He nodded to them in reassurance of a plan that might just work. No words needed to be spoken, for now was not the time nor the place, the orders had already been given.

Up on the upper garrison wall, Rico was trying to put the safety of his son out of his mind for now. He knew that Alero would be in good hands with the Hood, after all they are sworn to protect the bloodline with their lives. He had much more pressing matters now to attend to. He had to make sure that there was a Kingdom still left standing for his son to one day rule, and he as regent, had to do his part. The rest, well that was up to Hector now.

Rico removed his longbow from his back and readjusted his quiver, as he walked over to his commanding officer of the 2nd Regiment of Royal Archers.   

"How many?" Rico yelled, over the steadying pounds of the Orc war drums.

Responding back in an equally loud retort, the commanding officer said, "Hundreds…Thousands Sir! Eloria will not hold…"

Rico responded with ferocity in his voice for the first time, demanding all men along every wall to bring their attention quickly back to him, "The stronghold has never been breached in the entire time that Eloria has stood!"

Listening intently, for this is the first time in Rico's regency his voice empowered the masses. He commanded them, "It will not be breached now!"

He nodded to them, as they took in his gaze, and held it there for a moment. His words seemed to sink in. The warriors of the great Kingdom of Eloria seemed to find their steel again.

The rest of the Royal Archers snapped more to attention, as the primal drums rhythmically beat across the final plains. The Knights on the lower garrison wall gathered together, shields held high and forming a wall of gilded steel. Some hundred spear men where perched over the middle garrison wall lining up their shots at the small tidal wave of Orcs building on the neighbouring hillside. It was by now, the Orcish war horns and drums were far more menacing and clear, breaking the crisp air with their howling death calls.

The lookout guard that stood atop the distant keep shook his head and yelled to Rico, standing at the middle of the garrison wall, "They're loading the catapults and siege weapons! Brace for impact!"

Rico shook his head and narrowed his trained eyes as he proclaimed a King-like statement, "Good! Archers Ready! Knights Ready! Tonight, Eloria is at war! Tonight, we make history!"

His voice sounded across the garrison walls and was echoed in the voices of the Knights and Spear men alike, as it seemed to rally them into one final war cry.

Rico's eyes darted out past the sea of Orcs, as he watched with baited breath, seeing Hector make it out on his steed across the field to the west. The sounds of the drums, the horns, and the gathering horde followed him for a distance - but no arrows caught his back while he rode further and further from the coming insurgence of Orcs. Thankfully Hector made it out of the Kingdom on time, and although Rico knew the way would still be treacherous for him, he had faith that Hector would make it. He had too. 

As he watched the lone boy rider clear the edge of the Dark Woods and disappear beyond his line of sight, Rico turned toward his fellow archers on the upper walls; with a grin on his face. He adjusted his quiver, and nocked his bow with an arrow, as the others all followed suit. He glanced back and forth to his loyal marksmen flanked alongside him down the walls of the Kingdom. He knew at this very moment, he became the leader his father always wanted him to become.

Fingers nibble, sight-line true, Rico raised his longbow up to set his arrow alight, everyone following along like a crescendo of fire, all lighting their arrows in succession. Rico yelled out to his Royal Archers, "On my count!"

As the wall flared to life, each archer was ready on his mark. Rico screamed out, "One! Two!" As the Orcs spilled in much closer now, they were almost within range.

"Hold!" Rico shouts, his trained eyes narrowed and waiting, as he noticed it was in fact not the Orc King Omgoth that was coming to take Eloria, but an Orc Queen. A Queen that, despite her pieced together Orcish body, had a face that an aged veteran like himself, could not ever really forget. Her presence alone seemed to make him break his focus, his mind could not help but wonder, could it be? It was not possible...and he could not waiver now.

It was then that her scream came harrowing through from down below - a powerful rumbling bellow from the Tyrant Orc Queen, Decimaya herself, a declaration of war, "RELEASE THE CATAPULTS! DESTROY THEM!"

Snapping to the moment, Rico, almost outside of himself, launched his booming voice across the wall once more, all while his eyes were glimmering with the firelight of the cocked arrows. He repeated himself, "Hold!"

The first boulders were then flung into the air with a hurling whiz, and a horrifying shrill-like noise as they streaked through the night sky towards the Castle walls. The Orcs broke the front lines, tearing towards the gates in a rabid rush of blood-lust. Yet the Elorian Knights were ready and waiting for the Orc weapons to meet their harden steel wall.

It was just before the rocks started to hit the lower garrison wall, Rico's shout rose above all others, "LOOSE!" And just like that, a volley of arrows were released, falling towards the oncoming horde from the walls, the keeps, the towers, and even the Stronghold. Everything below was to be blanketed with flaming rain.

Eloria and TarDaxia for the first time in years...were at war...