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Piston Lake is an inland lake located in the northern portion of the map. The location is well secluded, however, travel across the plateau to the main battle areas is difficult. The lake is surrounded by trees which offer additional protection.
This is Io Beauregard's starting location.
The tournament will begin when 6 threads have been posted in this subforum. Good Luck!
In the Citadel’s crowded earth tone atrium there hung a portrait of the building’s silhouette hung high over the masses. It did not hang by rope nor was it posted to a wall. It hung by its own enchanting design. A Half Elf of foreign design looked up at the portrait. His face did not show it, but his ears twitched with enthusiasm shifting the long curly hair of black pearl that covered them. The artist of the painting had just emerged from one of the side rooms. He was easy to spot with his worn limp and his maroon suit of silk. He had just emerged from a battle.
The Half Elf veered between the bodies of warriors and spectators. Several cloths, armor, and sheathed weapons brushed his robe. In no time he had reached the artist and laid his hand on his shoulder. “Perdono.”
The artist turned and smiled with fatigued dimples. “Per who?”
The Half Elf extended his hand and the artist kindly took it without hesitation. “My name is Vitale Vincenza. Did you make that painting?” He pointed to the floating piece of art. Vitele’s accent was heavy, but its origin was unknown to the artist.
“It’s an oil pastel portrait. Think of it as greasy chalk.” The artist crossed his arms and looked up. “My name is Iorwerth Beauregard. ‘Io’ for short. Would you like a piece of art or something? I draw, paint, do sculptures…”
“Neither. Was the enchantment of levitation your doing as well?”
“It was, but if you’re looking for an enchantment you’ll be disappointed. I don’t really know how to control it. That particular talent has a mind of its own.”
“So I’ve heard. I was speaking with the monks about it and they told me everything. Would you mind walking with me?” Io crossed his arms and gave Vitale a skeptical look. “Hey there’s no reason for me to kill you. I have no weapons. You have two. You have no money for me to steal. There’s no motivation for me to hurt you. All I want to do is help.”
Io’s arms remained crossed and his face didn’t change. “You speak common very well, but your accent is heavy. Where do you come from?”
“That’s a long story.” Vitale said with a smile. “Let me tell you about that during the walk.”
Vitale didn’t wait to hear an answer. He just turned away and started for the street outside. Io followed behind as he debated with himself about this choice. It was difficult catching up to the robbed foreigner. The artist had just fought his way through his first Citadel battle, and even though all his fatal wounds had been cured the memory of the pain remained in the nerves as a side effect from the resurrection and the illusion magic of the monks. He was told he would no longer feel it in the morning, so he was wishing constantly for the morning to come.
The next morning came and Io was asleep in a giant tent full of thirty or so scribes. After hearing and confirming the story, Io decided that Vitale was genuine. The Half Elf came from a land called Giavinta from across the Great Divide. It was a theocracy that believed in a religion beyond Io’s intellectual and spiritual boarders for now. He would come to understand it in due time he was sure, but he dared not ask too many questions about their religion. Anyways the issue was more about why he was here in Corone. He, his officers, and one thousand of his fellow Giavintines had come here to compete in the Gisela Open after defending their capital from an unmarked army clearly of Althanian origin. Vitale Vincenza was a scribe, an enchanter who used writing as his primary spell, and after stumbling across Io’s painting while touring the Citadel he thought it might be useful to have another potential scribe in the tournament. The artist was given a place to sleep in the Giavintine force’s base camp, and now he was waking in yet another new bed.
As usual his ears came into awareness first as he heard a snare beat of wood chopping outside the tent. A symbol saw and the base of a hammer complimented the vocals, a dull roar of conversations outside. The bridge of the musical piece came in the form of a loud “Timber” and the moans of pain coming from the trunk of a tall tree as it fell to the ground. The song finally ended with the familiar voice of Scribe Master Vitale.
“Alzisi, Scribes! We’ve got a job to do!” The Scribe Master’s voice was loud enough to end Io’s song of human nature and possibly make him go deaf, but its tone was calm.
Little light shone through the opening, which indicated to the artist (and now novice scribe) that it was still very early morning. Io knew he hadn’t gotten enough sleep, but the noise all around was going to rouse him anyhow. The others around him woke with vitality, but it took him a moment of futile ignorance before he finally got up and caught up with the rest of them. The other scribes around him were dressed in robes, but since he was ranked as a novice scribe Io was not granted one of these nor was he granted the oak staff. He was cursed to wear his maroon costume in an army clad in sapphire and violet as he found out as he stepped out of the tent.
The Giavintine Rosangely Force was as blue as the small lake it surrounded. At least Io assumed the lake to be blue. The morning light that ushered in the sun was just barely getting its start over the horizon, so the lake was still reflecting the stars above like a mirror. Even the crescent moon was still luminous, but he could make out the uniforms of the soldiers by the light of the bonfires. They were all wearing blue and the comparison seemed appropriate.
To the artist’s right was the other half of the scribe unit emerging from their tent as they mumbled greetings in their native tongue. Just beyond them was the band that played the accompaniment to his morning song. Nearly fifty men in a large assembly line were chopping down trees, sawing the trunks into usable planks, carving shapes out of those planks, and assembling something with them. Whatever it was Io didn’t know. Across the lake a large number of men in tower shields created what looked to be a turtle shell out of them. It was then that Io noticed that his unit was the only unit that included women, and for that he was grateful.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” Vitale said in an assertive voice. “It seems as though we have ourselves a wall to make. What element ought that wall be made of?”
“Acqua! The compressed pressure should hold them back for a good minute.”
“No! Fuoco. If we’re going to hold them back it should be with a lethal element! Try to do some harm, no?”
“Electricity.” Io said as he stared into space with a contemplative face.
“Why electricity?”
“You said you can create any advanced command for the enchanted item to follow last night, right? Then why not make a series of connected electric gates using the trunks of the trees as foundations? That way if an enemy passes between two marked trees they’ll get shocked, stunned possibly.”
“Well what about our men? Electricity is invisible to the naked eye until it’s too late.”
Io shrugged his shoulders. “Use an advanced command. The glyphs will not activate if a… lotus image is on the person.”
The scribes around him let out reserved chuckles. Vitale too couldn’t help but take the statement with a little bit of humor. “It was a good idea. Really it was, and we will be implementing the basic elemental gate, but I think you need to get more of a grasp on the concept of glyphic runes. To make such an advanced glyph would take twice the time. We need to focus on booby trapping critical areas first and using advanced tactics second. It’s that very principle along with several others that saved our capital Letizia from certain doom. Speaking of which I never had the chance of introducing you to our force’s Strategos.”
Vitale ordered the other scribes to make a glyph in the forest areas in the south, emphasizing them that the easy paths up were not necessarily easy paths down. Lightly armored cavalry troops with crossbows accompanied them. Some even rode on horseback along with them. “They’ll make your electricity gate, but they won’t make that ‘advanced command of yours unless they have the time.”
“What about he troops moving through that area?” Io said with concern
“If anything moves through that area besides the unit I just sent, then it isn’t ours. Trust me. I know our Strategos.”
Out of Character:
Strategos Aldo Rosangely has also sent an officer of the Dragoons across the Forest Plateau.
Work has begun on two mobile ballistas.
It had only taken them six hours to crest the mountain peaks. When they did, they separated, planning to return to that same spot in twenty-four hours time. Each man shook the others hand, wishing their comrades luck and for a safe return.
Then, without a sound, they were gone.
Below them, and unbeknownst to them at that point, an army was moving. Preparing itself.
*~*
They moved like ghosts. Scampering from tree to tree. Hiding behind logs, bushes, vines, shrubs of all shapes and sizes. They knew there were five others like themselves out there, they just didn't know where. So good was each mans survival skills. But, like all scouts, they knew it wasn't always just about being able to hide and move silently. It was about remembering what you saw, heard or felt that counted.
Teris was the first of the scouts to encounter them.
He was hiding in a tree, using a trick his father had shown him once, a long time ago. By stuffing his tunic sleeves and neck line with grass, as well as lining his hem with bits of it too, glued on with mud, he was able to effectively camouflaged himself in the branches of the tree. In addition to the grass, he also caked his flesh in mud, and stuffed his sandals with small branches. To look as close to 'tree-like' from the bottom as possible.
So, there he was, hiding in the top of a medium sized tree, getting the lay of the land around him, when suddenly he heard voices. From far beneath him. He glanced down to see who they belonged too, and ho! There they were.
A man afoot, and a man on horseback. The man afoot was dressed in heavy robes, carrying what looked like a script on his back, and was looking around suspiciously. Instantly Teris thought that they had seen him climb the tree and very nearly panicked, but a moment later his fears were quelled when the man simply nodded and knelt down. He pulled something from his script, a stone it looked like, and with what looked like a pen, began to write something. Teris was instantly confused by this, and not knowing the ways of magic or its properties, chose to mistakenly ignore it for the time being.
What he did know however, was war and the man astride the horse, armored with crossbow in hand, was definitely the war type. Teris instantly began to pay attention to the man on the horse, picking up the subtleties in his armor, the way he sat his horse. The way he handled his crossbow.
After only a few moments of study, Teris had what he thought were the details all hashed out. The man was light cavalry. Ranged cavalry, but with that crossbow, and astride a horse, he could probably only get off a single shot before having to stop totally. This meant that he also had to be good a hand to hand, which by the looks of that saber of his, he probably was. His horse was slight of build, but had the look of speed about it. This mean he was probably very mobile, and in the right circumstances, could be very effective. His armor however, was possibly his weakest point. It was light, not really suited for prolonged combat and if hit dead on with an arrow shot from a reasonable distance, it might not hold up. This meant that he would most likely stay on the fringes of the fight, harassing the enemy.
Teris stored all of this away in the back of his mind and then focused on the other man again. He was still bent over that stone of his, scribbling like mad. Teris shrugged, for he didn't understand the lethality of that stone. Instead he opted to turn his attention back to the mounted man.
He continued to watch the two until the robed man said something, stood and then they both walked away. Teris remained up in the tree for another hour or so, before quickly, and silently, making his way down. He made note as to where the man had placed the stone, careful not to get close to it, or stand in front of it - as it was facing up the mountain slope - and then steadily made his way down slope. He thought he had seen something down near a lake, and he was wondering what it was.
*~*
All across the slope the other five scouts were experiencing similar encounters, each remaining carefully hidden until the two men passed them by. Each made a note as to where the stones were placed, some even opting to search for more of the stones. All the same, they all headed down slope, aiming toward that strange thing they had seen near the lake.
Out of Character:
“You’ll like our Strategos,” Vitale said with a smile. Io could see the dimple on his milky white cheek as he walked along side. “He’s a brilliant strategic mind, very creative and unconventional while being simple and fundamental at the same time. He’s a great leader. There are plenty of people older and wiser than him in this league of ours, but they admire his genius so much that they trust him with their lives. I think you’ll find comfort in knowing that he’s not much older than you, seven or eight years your senior I believe.”
Io didn’t find comfort in the man’s age. He was quite young and from what Io had been told that attack on Giavinta months ago was his first true test. Before that attack Giavinta was its own worst enemy and recently it had been at peace. What if the successful defense of Letizia was a stroke of luck?
What disturbed the artist even more was the ear to ear smile on the Half Elf’s face. “He’s more than just your leader, isn’t he?”
“Indeed he is.” Vitale nodded and his face turned somber. “He’s like a brother to me, and our special operative is like a sister to me. I find it saddening knowing that the both of them will be cut of their mortal coil long before me. I’d love to grow old with them. Perhaps we can end our lives together on the battlefield.”
They passed by a group of soldiers practicing a formation and sparing, the same group Io had seen on the other side of the lake. He could see the purple lotus on their shields more clearly now. These men definitely weren’t meant for stealth. In fact, most of the soldiers Io had seen so far weren’t meant for stealth. Several men were fitting their horses and themselves and it was obvious that they intended on being seen with their great lances and their mirror like armor. Perhaps that mirror like armor was a good distraction in this setting. A moving distortion of the trees would certainly throw someone off balance.
“Ah there he is.” The Scribe said as the smile returned to his face. He began his salute by raising two hands of twisted fingers. They were supposed to spell out ‘Bri’, the ever elusive central figure in these Giavintine’s religion. “Buona Mattina, Strategos Rosangely e Signora Capri.”
Vitale continued his greeting to them in their native tongue. They listened as the scribe seemed to tell them the story of their meeting, and why he was here. Io nodded to the Strategos, but his eyes quickly became fixated on the woman he presumed to be this Signora Capri, who was brushing her horse.
It seemed like an eternity before she finally turned around and graced him with her beautiful face, but it was well worth the half second wait. Her russet hair was done up in a strange formation emphasizing style over practicality. Maybe she was so used to having one eye covered that it didn’t impair her fighting skills. The other side was pulled far back by an obscure golden hair piece, and exposed a jade eye and long lashes that curved upwards. Her lightly freckled skin was of a healthy dolce hue and a rosy flush, which was accentuated by her matching lipstick.
The artist dared not look down in fear of making offense, but his peripheral vision indicated that she had a weapon. She must have been the special operative and sister Vitale had mentioned, but this assumption sent Io into a state of confusion. He had seen female warriors before, and she certainly didn’t look like one. She looked like a beautiful civilian woman who just so happened to have a weapon.
Signora Capri looked at Io with a smile and he naturally did the same. She began speaking to him in the graceful language of Giavintine, and he enjoyed the syllables as they rolled off her tongue and tickled his ears sending a tingle down his spine. He gave a gentleman’s bow as an act of courtesy, but to also look down and make sure no bodily reactions were taking place. This was the curse of being an artist. Io was an extremely sensual being who took pleasure in more sensations than the average person.
“Vitale.” Io said without taking his eyes off the woman, “Teach me Giavintine!”
“Why?” Vitale said with a chuckle. “So you can court her in her native tongue?”
Io finally pried his eyes from the sight and saw both the Strategos and the Scribe Master grinning in amusement. “Am I that obvious?”
“To us, yes, but the otherwise very intelligent Lady Giada de Capri is clueless in the field of courtship. I can guarantee you she thinks absolutely nothing of your trance like stare at her.” He put his hand on Io’s shoulder. “I’ll make a translator glyph so that you can speak and understand Giavintine. She’s a good woman.”
That was a very good thing. Io knew very well how to woo a woman, but a legitimate female warrior who had retained all her femininity had never crossed his path before. He was ready to approach her, and there could come a time when they would be in an appropriate setting to get to know each other, but for now he was Vitale’s student before he was Giada’s suitor. To be frank, he wasn’t Giada’s suitor at all yet. He’d have to say hello first.
The Strategos Rosangely stepped forward in his heavy suit of armor and extended his right hand with a smile. “Wel – come.”
Io grasped the cold steel of his plated armor glove and shook it. Suddenly the captain’s head twitched. He quickly aborted the handshake and put his hand to his right ear. His onyx eyes narrowed almost to the point of complete squinting, and then he looked to Vitale and spoke.
“What’s going on?” Io asked naturally.
Vitale put a hand out signaling Io to wait as he listened to the Strategos. Giada’s polite smile quickly became serious, and she suddenly walked off into the distance. Io watched her as she walked along the edge of the lake to the south end. Her silk uniform was not meant to compliment her body, but he could still judge her figure from it. Unfortunately she was disappearing. Her figure warped as if one were looking at her through a distorted window. The vision of Giada alternated between convex and concave until it melted into nothingness. All the while soldiers greeted her and gave her passing glances.
“We have visitors. A couple of our scribes and dragoons have reported movement. They have no visual confirmation, but they’re sure they heard something. The Strategos just gave me his plan and the scribes have completed their work. We’re setting a trap, but while that is being prepared sit here and listen to the Strategos’ briefing. Maybe you’ll pick up on some Giavintine while you’re at it.”
“Escercito!” Rosangely said in a raised voice. Every unit turned and began making a trip around the lake to gather near the Strategos. The legions came first sitting at his feet on their tower shields. The light fighters with Xiphos blades did the same since their shields were bowls neatly cupping their rear ends. The lumber men joined in bringing whatever they could carry to keep carving. The remaining scribes and the pikemen all sat in one group holding their pikes and staffs straight up creating a motley garden of wood and steel stalagmites. The short dwarves had no need to sit, but behind them the archers had dug their pavise shields into the ground and sat leaning on them as they fidgeted with their bows and arrows. All the units of the cavalry made a ring around the infantry, getting as close as they could without stepping on someone. It was a tight ring of crowded troops.
After seeing to it that everyone was situated Vitale himself sat down. He took out a pen and began inking a complicated knot onto the bottom of his blue robe. It was one of many since he used it as a rough draft for many of his glyphic runes. He gave Io a smiling glance as Rosangely began to speak in Giavintine.
Out of Character:
Production on the mobile balistas has been halted.
Lady Giada de Capri has activated her Vision Cloak.
The traps in the southern woods of Piston Lake have been completed.
Electric Gates – Invisible electric fields produced by a threshold of two trees with glowing electricity glyphs. They range from five to twenty feet long and they’re one time use only. There are ten of these scattered among the southern wood area.
With their work completed the 25 Glyphic Scribes have armed themselves with their oak staffs, and are heading back to camp with their Dragoon escorts.
Out of Character:
“Here.” Vitale whispered as he extended his hand. It held an emerald ink pen with a black stained head. “Do as I’ve done on my robe on this. You probably won’t achieve what your intentions are, but practice makes perfect.” Vitale then pulled out a white silk handkerchief and handed it to the artist.
Io twisted around so that he was lying on the ground with the handkerchief and pen in front of him. His eyes darted back and forth between the section of Vitale’s robe on which the glyph was place and his handkerchief. His hand led the ink pen little by little following the intricate contours and weavings of the knot on the Master Scribe’s robe.
He thought about his previous enchanted works of art. Knowing the tendencies of his talent he did his best to think of the Giavintine language. It was somewhat of an enigma to him so far. It was elegant like Raiaeran, but rough and blunt like his native Salvarian language. The expressions and tone tendencies seemed to match that of Coronian trade speak. From what Io knew many Giavintine words had Common routes. ‘Acqua’ and ‘fuoco’ were obviously ‘water’ and ‘fire’. ‘Perdono’ was obviously ‘pardon me’. The mystery then arose in the artist’s mind. What came first, Common or Giavintine?
”Be sure to remember your command codes. They may be simple but they’re effective in keeping us organized and flexible. From what we can gather we have an opponent to the south and an opponent to the west. If we are to go south we will be down hill of our enemies. If we go west we encounter a thick forested area that will inhibit our awareness. Luckily our opponent to the west would have just as difficult a time as us.”
Io slowly leaned over to Vitale and whispered, “What’s a command code?”
“Ah. A command code isn’t really a code at all. When a regiment’s officer says left, his soldiers step to the left. When a regiment officer says stagger, spread, or back, his soldiers do so. The true code lies in certain strategic formations like blowfish, porcupine, and…” The Half Elf suddenly stopped and widened his eyes in surprise. It was an expression Io hadn’t seen an Elf of any kind make. “You heard Giavintine!”
Io raised his eye brows in the realization that he’d just heard the Strategos speak. Instead of celebrating he turned his attention back to Rosangely as he put the handkerchief in his pocket. The Strategos spoke again and this time it was just a bunch of gibberish. He was confused. What happened?
“The glyph must remain in open air. Wrap the handkerchief around your neck.”
The artist did so and the language came back to him. His ears became tuned to every word of the language. ”We’re all making our way…” Just as Io was ready to hear his words Strategos Rosangely stopped and stared into space. ”We’re going through the forest plateau to the west in a shallow band formation. I need a spiked wall on all four sides, water and fire backing them up, light and lightning behind them, and the civilians and equestrians in the center. Keep an ear out for the spread command should we find ourselves in need of unleashing the cavalry. Pace your speed, ladies and gentlemen because all archers will be setting their trajectory just beyond you position. Move too fast and you’ll get shot. Move too slow and you’ll break your formation. Line up just beyond the forest and wait for my command to walk… Go.”
The entire force stood up and scurried towards the western side of the lake.
”Now that was command code” Vitale said with a smile. ”Did you understand any of that, Io?”
The artist smiled as he rose. “I would say yes and make myself look stupid trying to make a guess, but I’m not going to.”
”That’s okay. Just stay by my side and you’ll be fine.” Just then the group of Dragoons and Scribes emerged from the southern forest. Without needing an update they joined the rest of the army in their walk to the other side of the lake.
By the time Vitale and Io had made their way over the majority of the army was already in formation. It was exactly as Rosangely intended it to be, several long lines parallel to the forest. In the front was the spiked wall, a patterned line of legionaries and pikemen. Behind them was yet another patterned line of Xiphos fighters and Dwarven macemen. They were the fire and water. Behind them were the archers of the army, on foot and on horseback, light and lightning. The rest of the cavalry fell in where comfortable and behind them the civilians of the army. The engineering corps with their wagons and backpacks lined up beside one another. Io made note of the two unfinished ballistae. It was then time for his group to fall in where ordered, in the center with the engineering corps. The elements and the spiked wall wrapped around them to protect the back and sides, and the shallow band formation was complete.
”Left, right, left, right, left.” several voices echoed in unison as everyone around Io stepped in place according to the command. Finally a ”Forward!” permitted progression and the Rosangely Force entered the forest plateau.
Out of Character:
Out of Character:
Teris stood up from his concealed position behind a rather thick joining of two thickets. He was still covered in mud, and there were also bits and pieces of grass protruding here and there from his tunic and other clothing.
That army was on the move.
He had found them only a short while before, as he was making his way toward the lake on the far eastern side. He had very nearly gotten himself killed, walking out into the open like that, but thankfully, no one had seen him. He only hoped that the others were just as lucky.
Now that he was standing, he could see exactly where they were headed. Not toward his men, that was for sure. He turned around and cupped his hands around his lips.
"Awoooeeee! Awoooeeee!"
To any untrained ear, the call would sound like some woodland bird, but to his comrades ears, it would be a call to follow. He waited a moment, crouched back down behind his thickets, listening. Moments later, five more calls answered him back, all at nearly the same exact time. For cover reasons, they continued their calling for another few seconds. Just birds, calling to one another.
"Aweeeooo! Aweeeooo!"
The call was to send one man back and inform the army of their discoveries. Then the rest would follow. Moments later, return calls, acknowledging the order.
Teris turned his attention once more to the moving army. Soon they would be away from the lake, and moving to the west. As he watched, one thing in particular about the way they had moved out had tickled his mind.
He had heard no commands.
Out of Character: