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originally posted in:The New Dojo
originally posted in: THE DOJO
10/27/2017 11:32:57 AM
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[b][u]Chapter One[/u][/b] [u][b]Venimus, Vidimus, Vicimus[/b][/u] [b]Dojoville Center, now taken by the Trayven forces[/b] [b]6:41 PM[/b] [b]Trayven Head Camp[/b] ---------------------------------- [spoiler]Open, if you intend to be taken down by the stationed Trayvens and meet Freya.[/spoiler] "Thirty-six deaths. In one night." [i]Freya's fist rested upon the wooden table, the solid surface coated by maps of the Dojo, and the surrounding area of Dojoville and the forest underneath the mountain. A lamp flickered in the corner of the room, a small bed next to it, alongside a pack of the commander's armory and such. Standing before the woman was a cloaked knight, the cloth binding around his suit hiding away the helmet upon his head and back.[/i] [i]Freya Trayven herself wasn't biologically a Trayven, as she was one of the five that were not. The eldest brother would know that honor, she would not. But while he was off against the threat of darkness, and her eldest sister had taken to leading the front lines, Freya was wagering the war against the true enemy. The enemy of the people, in fact - the Dojo. She had created the assault plans, studied the previous invasions.. the Dojo had never faced an encamped enemy, however. They were used to spaceships and gun warfare - they would be surprised.[/i] [i]From a perspective, Freya was ferocious, in her own manners. She was above the average female height, at about five feet and ten inches tall, albeit a complete midget to half of the Dojo's members still. Her bodily frame was bounded by a deep purple and white uniform, buttons tightening the vest around her front, links of chainmail running through the uniform as steel plate coated her shoulders as pauldrons and wrapped around her forearms. Curls of short, blood red hair fell from her head, while those two bright orange gems stared down at the scout knight that had approached her.[/i] [i]She didn't initially believe the man, of course. The woman brushed past the armored knight, whom was only an inch taller in his armor, as she passed through the tent's entrance and into the lightly raining outside of Dojoville. Proud golden lion banners hung above the tents, a giant pole bearing the Trayven flag, instead of the Dojo's. Armored knights, calvary riders upon their steeds, armed soldiers, servants and squires rushed through the garrison, most simply nodding towards their commander as she approached the corpsmen stations, or rather the medical station.[/i] [i]The fortress was already something, in the few days that it had been stationed. The Dojo cared not for the Trayven, if which helped their cause just as much. No, it appeared that whatever had caused the wildfire had merely stalled their progress. Now, thick wooden walls, stationed concrete, and watchtowers made up the defense, while if one were to peer at the base from afar, they would find a slight, clear grey barrier surrounding it. About twenty feet from each wall, the barrier's fence would end, while it reached a few stories into the air. There were certainly more than a hundred there, to say the very least.[/i] [i]And the scout was right. Thirty-six dead bodies lined the ground, accompanied by two more that had been mauled and desecrated by Dojo civilians. The civilians that were taken by the Trayvens were bounded to wooden stakes, thrashing at their bonds. There were three, in total.[/i] [i]Freya would recognize these dead men. She closed her eyes, nodding towards the corpsmen to take away the bodies for burning. She would only then turn towards the first of the Dojo civilians. She'd regularly leave executions to others that were.. more fit, to the role, but.. no one would hurt her men.[/i] [i]So she took it upon herself to do it.[/i] ---------------------------------- [spoiler]Open to all.[/spoiler] [b]Dojo Gates[/b] "I deliver a message from Lady Freya Trayven!" [i]A cavalryman rode his white horse up to the Dojo's gates, circling around as he awaited an answer. In his hand, he held not a weapon, but instead a banner of Trayven - white and purple in color, with a golden, roaring lion head in the center. Upon his waist, was a tightly packed scroll of ancient parchment. He.. seemed to be waiting.[/i]
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  • "The Imperium of Mankind.. one of the forces that our armada would hope we would find a certain support within. Yet even with my own beliefs, and others as well, Freya seeks to take advantage of the Dojo's skill in combat for the wars to come.." [i]"The wars to come" was an odd manner to describe whatever the Trayvens were here for, or at least their armies. It was clear that they did not intend full-on warfare just yet, as they hadn't prepared their siege engines and invasion just yet.[/i]

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  • "Wars to come? Probes had shown that your army is lacking in....siege, nonetheless combat with denizens who can immolate people with their minds. However, I believe we can come to an agreement that benefits both of our sides. Though our commanding officers must meet for this to happen." [i]Logus had said, the smile fading as he gripped his staff. Suddenly, a device beeped on the man's wrist and out came a British voice, somewhat elegant, but harsh.[/i] "Logus! Have you told those dojo twits to bugger off about begging for bolt guns!? I swear to the Emperor I am going to execute anyone who comes near the base and begs for them again! God-Emperor damn them all to the warp!" [i]The more younger man had barked over the bizarre device which prompted Logus to walk off a few meters, so the messenger wouldn't hear.[/i] "[b]My Lord....I believe you should calm oneself down. You don't want to end up like that NCO that suffered cardiac arrest do you?[/b]" [i]Logus hissed over the vox.[/i] "Apologies Logus. They just piss me off is all." [b]"I suppose it is only natural. But I am currently in a delicate situation, do you remember those feral worlders you saw on the probes?[/b]" "The ones with the barrier?" [b]"Yes M'lord. It would seem they have a rather strong hatred of The Dojo. I am currently chatting with one of their messengers now. I believe we can cooperate with them and kill two birds with one stone.[/b]" "Then what the bloody hell are you waiting for?! Set up a meeting!" [b]"It is not that simple I'm afraid, they wish to speak with the members of the Dojo. However, I have concocted a plan. We merely set up a council as they would call it at a neutral zone, attempt to settle this matter peacefully. I know you hate this kind of stuff but it is a Rogue Traders work no?"[/b] "..." "Fine. I'll get my hat. I'll talk with these mongrels." "[b]That is, if I can convince them.[/b]" "I have faith in you Logus, may the Emperor guide the way." [i]The link ended, and the decrepit man returned to the messenger.[/i] "[b]Tell your superiors that Lord-Captain Gilliam wishes to....converse. We could come to an agreement, solve this matter between The Dojo, The Trayvens and The Imperium at once.[/b]"

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  • "Surely, what your "Lord-Captain" Gilla-who will arrive at the council himself? I would hope so, if he also relies on old, robed men to transmit his messages." [i]Oliver had.. only caught onto pieces of the conversation, and only the bits that old man Logus had said. It was hard to ignore the "feral worlders" and "kill two birds with one stone", after all.[/i] "Tell me, fellow "feral worldling" - you and I both aren't from here - what are the intentions of your Lord in the first place, hmm?" [i]Well, he was a smartass.[/i]

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  • "Lord Gilliam merely conducts trade, reclaims lost planets and etcetera with the authority of The God Emperor himself. You would not care in the slightest. However, I had personally oversaw the trades between the Dojo and The Imperium. They had asked for weapons they knew were not authorized to be given. Thus, we cut off trade with them. I started it and I finished it." [i]Logus had explained with a sigh.[/i] "I am a Hive Worlder, not a feral-Worlder. That is a term used for planets that have not seen the use of conventional firearms. My Lord will arrive to the meeting, but we ask for some reasonable things. We talk on completely neutral ground, no attempts to backstab each other, literally. Might I suggest the Dojo? The actual Dojo within this place I mean. Do not fret, rarely anyone goes there. I request this be relayed back to your superiors, the same shall be done for the Dojo."

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  • [i]The youth of a messenger would listen silently to the terms that had been presented of such a meeting, thinking of the advantages and the disadvantages of such an encounter in the first place. The Trayvens did require the assistance of others, for.. reasons larger than themselves, really.[/i] "...Very well, then. I shall relay this message back to Lady Freya. In return, we shall expect to see your Lord-Captain Gilliam to arrive, alongside the defenders of the Dojo, and whatever other force upon this planet would seek to unify us against the great war. Farewell, ser." [i]The messenger would bring his back forwards, bowing as he would place his tight, gloved fist upon where his heart would have been, upon his steel chest plate. Without another word, he would find himself readying his steed, letting loose a slight grunt as his horse would begin to ride back down to the Trayven encampment down in Dojoville..[/i] [spoiler]Fin?[/spoiler]

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  • [spoiler]Yeah. Prepare for fancy hats and tarot readings.[/spoiler]

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  • https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1677784/236891131/0/0/1 The dojo was silent, until the large wooden gates creaked open. Stepping out of the doors was a man, a smug grin upon his face. His hair wasn't short, but it wasn't long either, a common ground between the two. White blotches ran throughout his hair, and a sword was sheathed at his hip, with a second sheathed on his back. Across his body were various ornaments, made of gold and silver. A necklace was seen in the center of his exposed chest, his shirt but low. The necklace was the head of a cat, and the man extended his arms outwards to the left and right. "And what does Lady Freya want?" He asked calmly. He bore to sigil, no coat of arms. He didn't belong to a house, the only evidence of a house being the cat head necklace.

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  • "You shall find that answer here." [i]The cavalry soldier would say, before slipping off of his horse, slamming the white and purple flag's shaft into the soft road's ground. From there, the man removed his helmet - he was a younger man, maybe twenty-one or so, with no beard and a sharp jawline. His hair was a light silver, mixed with a grey, his eyes a light blue.[/i] [i]He held out the wrapped parchment, a red trident stamped upon it.[/i]

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  • The man dropped his arms to his sides, staring at parchment for a moment. He sighed and reluctantly reached out, taking the paper from the man's hand. Pulling it back towards himself, he tore the seal down the miffed and unraveled the scroll, reading what it said on the page.

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  • [b][i]To the denizens of the Dojo,[/i][/b] [i]In the past weeks alone, your great center of combat has experienced both an invasion, and a wildfire that stretched across your entire village. Yet, it would not be the protectors from the Dojo that would lead the fight against the Imperial invaders - it would be the rebel armada and one woman. And it would not be the defenders of the people that saved the people from fire and death - it would be invaders from a foreign land who would.[/i] [i]If not for our own complications, then this letter would not be sent - rather, the wrath of siege equipment and cavalrymen. However, I find it to be a necessity to meet whomever leads your army itself, or rather defense. In person. You shall find me within our encampment.[/i] [i]Signed, Freya Trayven[/i]

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  • "She can't be bloody serious." The man said with a scoff, laughing crudely at the page. "Does she know of the dozens of men and women we lost? Does she know of those that battled the Imperials? Does she know of those that are fighting against them, even now? Apparently not." The man sighed, crumbling the paper in his hands and tossing it to the side. "She plans to invade this place and wants us to visit her? Does she plan on making Peace? Tell us to stand down or fight? Your lady isn't very bright." He scoffed again, turning to the gates. "Shut the gates!" He yelled, as several Knights were seen in the dojo running about. The gates closed and the man turned back to the messenger, "I will entertain her request. But if I am to die, let the Warriors that remain decide their own faith." He started walking, gesturing to the messenger. "Show me the way, prick."

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  • "[i]My sister[/i] is clearly brighter than you are, ser. Tell me, how many in the Dojo pride themselves on man-to-man combat? Melee? Judging from your previous antics and preparations for space armadas.. not many." [i]At least the cavalryman had a point. He mounted his horse, motioning for Alric. He pointed down at Dojoville, where ruined, burnt buildings and survivors of the wildfire had slowly began to rebuild. Amongst the standing buildings were white and purple standards, and in the center, a massive encampment.[/i] "Perhaps when you remove the stick out of your ass, you'll find some sense to head towards there, without your army of civilians. You'll find that the Trayvens aren't idiotic slaughterers - that must be new, to you sick bаstards." [i]And just like that, the cavalryman simply rode off.[/i]

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  • "Focking prick." Alric mumbled to himself, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword that was sheathed on his hip. Alric started down the slope of the pathway, headed towards the village. "First those Coldbourne focks and now these? All these Royal Focking families." Alric talked to himself, mostly, making it seem like he was a mad man to any passerby or beggar on the road. Then, he started humming, an old song foreign to the world of the dojo.

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  • [i]When Alric found himself at the barrier surrounding the stationed garrison, the Trayvens clearly found themselves at a standstill. Archers upon the gates and the watchtowers beside it trained their crossbows and longbows upon his being, the phalanx guards at the gates taking stance, shields pointed forwards. The fort's entrance would slowly open, as one figurine would exit as it creaked apart.[/i] [i]Freya, supposedly.[/i] [i]She stood three inches taller than Alric, and yet she was seemingly lightweight as well. The steel plate armor that adorned her white and purple uniform was gilded, golden in a certain color, yet just as efficient still. In her right hand was a simple trident, not adorned nor precious, yet clearly loved, it's three points sharpened for both effective stabs and cleaves if necessary.[/i] "A Witcher is what the Dojo sends to my garrison. We don't house monsters, ser." [i]Freya looked up and down at his being, nodded at him as she stopped at the foot of the barrier. Then, she stepped out, facing Alric head-on.[/i] "If we're going to talk, I will not hide behind some magic wall. We either talk here or in there, if you'd prefer some dinner too." [i]...Well, she was polite.[/i]

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  • "Depends on what we're talking about, Lady Freya." He said, a mocking tone being heard in his voice. "Are we discussing your surrender? Dinner would be ideal for that." He stared at her, his yellow cat eyes unflinching. "Or are we discussing something else? In any case, I would appreciate a rather fine steak." He grinned, gesturing to the magic wall with his free hand. "Nice wall."

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  • "I believe that it would be your surrender, ser." [i]Freya smiled, only a little. She allowed her trident's shaft to rest upon the ground, tilting her head at her subject while they played their game.[/i] "Though.. you may accept our terms, as well. If you like, our chefs may cook up some fine steaks for us both, as we chat. Unless you meant something else?" [i]It was hard to tell whether she was.. too serious or not. Though that smile, as brief as it was, was certainly something.[/i] "And the barrier.. do keep your abilities and guns to yourself. The last time that someone charged their shock troopers into these walls, they found it quite difficult to fight in melee.."

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  • "My surrender?" Alric scoffed, doing a formal bow. "My lady, I am Alric. First of my name, defender of the dojo and its people, Slayer of storm troopers, the Bloody Witcher." He stood tall, grinning wildly. "Our numbers are small, but our defenses are strong. You will tell me why we should surrender to you, and I'll show you why they call me the Bloody Witcher." His eyes narrowed, and his smile dropped as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Over dinner of course!" He smiled again, his eyes twinkling with a certain rogue feature to them. He walked past her, into the barrier around her encampment.

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  • [i]Freya would allow Alric to pass her, keeping the trident upon the ground.[/i] "The Bloody Witcher.." [i]She would murmur, nodding silently to herself as she followed after him.[/i] [i]Alric would find his flintlocks suddenly clicking, their triggers locking into place as he entered the barrier. His abilities would steadily be blocked out, as if they were nullified entirely. Calvary horses, warriors, archers, knights, even a few mages that wore rings and bonds that kept their abilities. Freya walked beside him now, keeping her trident within her right hand.[/i] "Our numbers are many, but we do not pride ourselves upon quantity. I ensured to recruit the best of our siege-worthy men and women, if there is a siege. Though with the Dojo's mountain.." [i]She motioned for Alric to enter a tent - her own tent, apparently, as she motioned for servants to bring dinner.[/i] "Sit, if you may."

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  • "I've been in army camps before. Claiming they had quality troops. The Nilfgaardians conquered most of the Northern Focking kingdoms. Even with the mountains." He stated, as though comparing the Garrison to a full fledged Empire. He nodded appreciatively and took a seat, leaning back into the chair and making himself comfortable.

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  • [i]The inside of the tent was comfortable, to say the very least. Freya didn't rely on servants to clean the war table - in fact, she simply allowed Alric to study them. They were surprisingly detailed.. drawn out pictures of the encampment, the Dojo, the mountain, the city itself.. [/i] "You compare this small batch to an empire? You flatter me, ser. Is it purposeful?" [i]Freya only cleared the table then, as the servants brought appetizers and drinks - wine for Freya, while Alric had some options of liquor to choose from, baskets of bread and biscuits, smoked bacon, and more.[/i] "No matter. We should arrange a proper meeting between ourselves and the other forces of Tatakai. A war is coming, dear Witcher. And this army.. this army wouldn't stand a chance. Perhaps it was.. better, to ask for a treaty. My father, however.. demanded a more hostile approach. So here we are - I suppose that I am his lapdog."

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  • "Purposeful, perhaps. Kind? Perhaps not, Nilfgaard does not hold the highest of reputations, especially among mages." He stated, looking at Freya when he spoke. He had... A broken sense of honour to say the least. "But on to business, you propose a treaty?" Alric asked, raising an eyebrow at the proposal. "Yet we do not know the slightest thing about you, my lady. Where does your family hail from? How do you know what is coming?"

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  • "Hmm. Yes, I do propose.. something of a treaty, for I am the only one that seems to care enough to do so. My older sister has taken to expanding our reach throughout Dojoville and the continent, and my older brother has taken to combating the true foe. A foe that has remained hidden in this realm, yet.. it has taken ours. I am of the city of Trayve - an adopted child of King Armillion Trayven. My adoptive father was.. a conqueror, whom only fathered one trueborn child. The rest.. taken in by the corrupt rulers that he overthrew. First Arthur came, then Isabella, the Princess of Dragons.. the bаstard boy, Oliver, who brought you the message. Little Julien, the Prince of the Arcadia.. and me. Princess Freya Rivelria, now Trayven, after my mother and father used their horde of an army and rаped, slaughtered, and pillaged their ways.. up to Trayve, where they were cut down. I was.. not too young, I can't forget them. But I certainly didn't love them." [i]Freya would sigh, as she ate a little of her biscuit. Then, the steaks, salads, and more would arrive.[/i] "The threat that we face is one that I will have to address, hopefully at a meeting between Tatakai's forces. This way.. we can unify, to some degree. Three armies.. against one."

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  • "The city... Trayve you called it? Where is it precisely?" Alric asked, picking up a knife and fork, cutting into the steak. He was... Oddly curious about Freya for one reason or another. "Ollimand, perhaps? I hear the continent is beautiful this time of year, much different from the mountains up here." He stated, lifting the fork up and taking the piece of steak into his mouth, chewing on it for a few moments. With his mouth closed, of course, proper in some way.

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  • "A different realm, to be.. more precise. A version of Tatakai, as both worlds seemingly share the same geography, though Trayve is built in closer proximity to how the Dojo is built in my world. Think of it as a larger Rome, if you want. I could describe the city, but.. forgive me. I've rambled on for far too long." [i]Freya silently began to cut apart her own steak, a certain quietness taking over the surprisingly polite woman as she would begin dinner. As for her subject - Alric would find that there was no poison in his drink, nor food. The Trayvens must've killed through steel, judging by that.[/i]

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  • "You mentioned, a third army? I believe the words were, the three armies to face this threat, or something along those lines? What other army could there be, to assist in your cause?" Alric asked, taking a sip of wine.

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