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originally posted in:The New Dojo
10/28/2017 6:53:30 PM
1
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.
English
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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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"There's the Imperium, in the plains. The jackasses who thought it was a great idea to drop artillery during the Imperial assault.. on innocents, Dojo warriors, and Imperials. Point is, they have numbers. But when everything goes dark, those numbers better be ready to use anything without tech and abilities.. else, it'll be nasty. ...We aren't just fighting men, ser. We're fighting a war that could bring us all to our knees if we fail. We fight the Tribune, and his army of seeping chaos. The Tribune himself seeps through Tatakai, hoping to seize opportunity at any moment. He's done the same to Rivelria, and Khaom.." [i]Freya would stare, right towards Alric then.[/i] "It's why we need you. Not the numbers, but the expertise. A unified Tatakai stands a chance."
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Edited by Royal Blade: 10/29/2017 5:04:33 AM"Then I'm afraid you're too late, Lady Freya." Alric stated sadly, setting the wine glass down. "Many of our strongest, most experienced are already gone. Lord Alex Coldbourne, The Cobalt Phoenix, Ornstein the Dragonslayer and his wife, Nora The Pyromaniac." He shook his head, looking back up at Freya. "Those that [i]do[/i] remain, are off battling the Imperials forces in Khalosh. Ornstein and Nora's son for example, Nathaniel. The members that are still in the dojo are the lowest of them, civilians that came here to battle gods. Warriors that are here to forget their sorrows. What remains of the dojo is a sorry lot, you will find neither numbers nor expertise anymore." Alric finished his speech with a sip of wine, well more then a sip. He gulped down the entire glass, setting it down once more.
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"...[i]We need them[/i], Alric." [i]Freya would murmur, as she did not stare at her food, nor the adorned table. She brought her gaze straight to Alric, her breathing a little more intense then it had been beforehand, her fist almost twitching a little upon the table.[/i] "That council meeting will decide our fate. Not just as three armies, but as three civilizations. Three, hopefully.. unified.. civilizations. Else, we are doomed."
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"The dojo waeriors serve no one. I will do my best, and I will fight for you, but I cannot make promises for some of the others within those walls." He cut off another piece of steak, chewing on it for a few moments before swallowing.
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"...Thank you." [i]Freya would sit there for a moment, simply staring at the steak before her. She sighed, shaking her head.[/i] "And here, my idiotic father thought that we would have to fight.. gods damnit. I love that man, but he's.. obsessed with that damned concept of fighting and bloodshed. It's horrible."
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"If I may speak freely, your father doesn't seem to understand how to sway people to his cause." Alric took a sip of wine, holding the glass in his hand and spinning the wine inside around. "If you [i]had[/i] invaded the dojo as he wished, not a single one of the Warriors inside would take up arms for your cause. They do not enjoy being conquered." Alric stated, almost matter of factly.
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"Agreed. Though if you said that in the Great Hall, your head would be off your shoulders before you could even close your mouth." [i]Freya chuckled quietly to herself, before a messenger would enter, whispering something into her ear. Freya's eyes would widen midway, looking at Alric as the messenger left.[/i] "...The Imperium's agreed to a council. In the Dojo, but.. perhaps there [i]is[/i] a chance."
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"A council it is then!" Alric laughed jovially, finishing up what remained of his steak. "Hopefully this all goes well, yes?" He asked, taking yet another sip of wine.
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"Hopefully. In my line of work, nothing really goes well.. but perhaps that will change." [i]Freya smiled a little, leaning back in her wooden chair as she would study Alric for a few seconds, that smile still on her face.[/i] "Once this is over.. maybe we should stay a little. I should get to know the people here, you as well."
