The Fire Rises: Attack on Tylmerande

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Firstly, this thread will only address the Brotherhood’s attempted occupation of the barony of Tylmerande, and (for now) will be considered non-canon, to get around some issues revolving around closed member participation.

Once the FQ begins in earnest, the Brotherhood’s main coup will begin in Radasanth and will give people the opportunity to jump in and out to either help defend Radasanth or assist the Brotherhood. It is at this point, when the FQ thread is dealt with, that I will apply to have both the occupation of Tylmerande and the events of Panorama of the Endtimes listed as canon. I’m hoping Dirks or Lye will allow this.

Please see this thread for rules ect.

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It was the night before the biggest day of his leadership.

Shinsou Vaan Osiris only realised how dark it was when he had finished penning his plans for the Brotherhood’s future, the scrawls barely visible in the dim candlelight. After a minute or two of posturing, he pushed the pen across the oak table-top, slid his back up the rest of his chair and sighed with relief at having gotten to the end of that monstrosity. He had already done a satisfactory head count of the men who had returned to Whitevale after the acrimonious Gisela split between Shinsou Vaan Osiris and Storm Veritas, and the numbers of those on strength left the Telgradian with a smile. Out of the ten thousand men he had started with, only a tenth hadn’t returned to the Brotherhood. A further two hundred and fifty were off the active duty roster due to injury or leave, which left Shinsou and Storm with a solid eight thousand, seven hundred and fifty strong force.

What he intended to do with that eight thousand, seven hundred and fifty strong army was unprecedented, absurdly ambitious and extremely dangerous. But, in his heart of hearts, Shinsou Vaan Osiris knew that it was the first rung on the ladder to the greatness that Storm Veritas had insisted they were due to obtain. Flicking strands of matted hair out of his eyes, he stood up to ease the pain in his back from being sat in one position too long. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the Whitevale office window. A pair of soft, golden eyes eyes stared him back, ones with black circles of weariness capping his cheeks. His features were still boyish and handsome, but he could have sworn his forehead had just a few more creases than usual.

With a groan, he redirected his gaze beyond the pane to take in the surroundings of the Brotherhood’s base in Whitevale. The square outside was soaked with pools from the constant drizzle that had plagued the hills during the afternoon. The Brotherhood guards stood still, looking rather miserable as the creeping cold seeped into their joints. One stretched out of the position that he had remained motionless in for all of the past two hours. The horizon beyond the guards and high walls remained obscured by the rolling, dark clouds that had haunted the skies all day, but here and there patches of bleak light reminded the dusk that there was sunshine to come for dawn. On the fringe of those clouds, the parts of the hills that were visible were rocky and treacherous, monotonous in their continuity around the Whitevale area and served only to add to the claustrophobic feel of Whitevale’s county. Shinsou remembered marching through the coarse grasses and bracken with his soldiers not long ago, a whole army choking the carpet of dull greens and browns for miles around, and he could not decide whether it was natural or arcane to feel as good as he did at the helm of that force. Either way, though, it felt even better being part of a united Brotherhood once again.

“Evening Shin. Still up doing your homework for school? Bit past your bedtime, isn’t it?”

The sudden chime of a familiar voice assaulted Shinsou’s senses like the clamour of a thousand hammers smashing glass, making him almost leap out of his skin. As he snapped his body round, Shinsou’s eyes met the cold gaze of a blue-eyed man. The unmistakable slicked back salt-and-pepper hair and Fallien finery, the ironic shit-eating grin and faint scent of perfume, presumably rubbed off from one of his conquests, confirmed the presence of Storm Veritas.

“Well, someone has to do the spade work around here,” Shinsou retorted, pretending not to have been bothered by the interruption. Storm pulled up the only other chair in the room, seating himself as Shinsou’s table, before putting his feet up on the oak, “Speaking of which, I’ve just finished running the numbers for our jaunt to Tylmerande. We’re at about eighty seven percent strength, which is well above what we hoped.”

“Yeah, but I’m still left wondering if it’s it going to be enough?” Storm lit up his trademark pipe as Shinsou walked by and gently slid the man’s boots off of the furniture, “I mean, we’re talking about kicking a hornet’s nest here. The Rangers, Corone’s Navy and any other bleeding heart have-a-go heroes will all want to hose us off their doorstep like a turd the minute we hit the port. It’s risky.”

“Yeah, it fucking well is,” the Telgradian took off his coat, throwing it over a nearby varnished wooden stand, “But, for what we need, it’s necessary. Remember, that port is a key trade gateway and a shipyard to service the Coronian Navy, and we aren’t going to hold it with a handful of pissheads from the Rusty Anchor, sadly. Else, we’d be throwing fodder at them. This needs a professional, tidy and determined approach. We get down there, blockade the place and hold it until our window of opportunity arrives.”

Shinsou reached into his coat, into a sheathe woven into the inner lining, and produced his sword, Stygian. The aquamarine blade almost sung with the notes of the Raiaeran bards as he carefully placed it, finger and thumb between tip and hilt, on the table in front of the electromancer. Storm raised an eyebrow as if to question what new madness had crawled into the Telgradian’s mind now. The room fell quiet as his eyes flicked from left to right, absorbing the inferred plan, which the Telgradian then confirmed.

"We don’t need to roll up to Radasanth with an army. Just a small unit – ten, maybe eleven men, and Stygian. Either you or me leading, depending on how Tylmerande goes. We hit the assembly, and the rest is history.”

Storm readjusted his position on the chair as his partner emerged from behind the desk. He wondered, for a moment, what Shinsou was really feeling, knowing that this ambition would likely lead him into direct conflict with many of his friends and allies. Would he stand, knowing that most of them would abhor such an abrupt change of course? The electromancer knew his past well. He knew that five years ago, Shinsou had been subjugated and had been forced to turn on his own people. He had murdered millions, he had turned against the Telgradian capital of Garah and he had tried to kill the Council of Five but Osiris had always professed everything he had done had been by the hands of someone else. Proving it had been impossible. There was no way to explain to all those that watched his rampages that Shinsou Vaan Osiris was not the man behind it all.

Now, looking at his friend, Storm Veritas wondered whether he was now seeing the Telgradian’s true colours; a man whose life had been spent in the upper echelons of power, who needed to return to that level. It suited him to be partnered to a man who shared his drive, his will and ambition, but up until now perhaps he had underestimated just how little Shinsou had really changed, and how much the Telgradian had lived in denial.

Eventually, Shinsou ruffled his hair with a calloused hand, and turned to face his friend.

“I’m going to ask Hayate Amatsukami to come with me to Tylmerande to head up the Immortals. He’ll be instrumental to the operation down there. You ok with that?”

Storm shrugged, his eyebrows raised. “Stands to reason. Just make sure he doesn’t shit the bed first time out.”

Shinsou collected his coat from the stand he had just thrown it over, and pulled his arms through the thick sleeves. After a moment of studying his friend’s face, searching for any signs of doubt or reluctance, the young man nodded.

“This is our chance, Storm; this is what we’ve been building up to all this time. Let’s not strike out on our first innings. Let’s get down there, raise hell and really put it up the assembly.”

***

It was a damp day when a cutting wind whipped around the hilltops a couple of miles south of Whitevale. Stood on horseback, Shinsou, Storm and Hayate Amatsukami stared at the road which led southwards to Tylmerande.

Everything was dark as the precipitation drove into the hillsides. Behind him stood those loyal companies of Brotherhood infantry. They were well drilled, well disciplined and loyal to a fault, but more than that they were the men who had re-united for the common good of the Brotherhood. They would would give everything they had to capture and hold Tylmerande, and those who would finally bear witness to a new era spearheaded by Shinsou Vaan Osiris and Storm Veritas.

The beginning of their journey? the Telgradian knew, was five minutes away. In a few moments, they would haul themselves up the path and on the road to Tylmerande. That's when everything would be at its most tense. Should word have gotten to anyone of their plan, Shinsou knew that there was a risk that they would meet resistance. This is why he had chosen this route for the march south, well out of the way of prying eyes.

If any party dared to try and intervene, they would have to come to Shinsou and his soldiers through poor conditions and rugged terrain.

"Sir?"

A captain of the 95th Foot light company, Shinsou's own detail, spoke.

"Yes captain?"

"Your road is clear.”

“Excellent. We shall move at once,” Shinsou waved a gloved hand forward, grabbing Slepnir’s reins with one hand whilst turning to Hayate, “So, my friend, how does it feel to be a part of this journey? Soon, we will be in Tylmerande, and you can show us what you are truly made of.”

As they travelled, Shinsou was steadfast in his belief. The Brotherhood would be a better solution for the people than the inept assembly, who caused chaos with their indecision and allowed too many to lose to their whims. The road to government was dark and clouded, and would be capped on the end with blood and bedlam, but this was the way it needed to be to effect real, tangible change.