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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on Dec 27, 2012 22:02:40 GMT -5
The ramparts were manned by the finest griffons the kingdom had to offer, cannons posed and loaded, their fuses primed, the fleet in the sky floating precarious between their king and the bullets of his foolhardy line of imprudent, false sense of safety. The Line had kept the royal city since its inception, but now, all but the king seemed to know that it would not stand the test of the Dreadnaught. The civilian populace, those not fit for duty, the fledges, elderly and sick, were quickly shuffled into the deepest recesses of the rocks. Into the caverns and crevices they huddled, waiting for the blasts to collapse the stone around them – many begun to fear that this refuge would be their tombs. Trapped to suffocate and rot, their bones left to antiquity.
The ramparts were manned by the finest griffons the kingdom had to offer, cannons posed and loaded, their fuses primed, the fleet in the sky floating precarious between their king and the bullets of his foolhardy line of imprudent, false sense of safety. The Line had kept the royal city since its inception, but now, all but the king seemed to know that it would not stand the test of the Dreadnaught. The civilian populace, those not fit for duty, the fledges, elderly and sick, were quickly shuffled into the deepest recesses of the rocks. Into the caverns and crevices they huddled, waiting for the blasts to collapse the stone around them – many begun to fear that this refuge would be their tombs. Trapped to suffocate and rot, their bones left to antiquity.
Inside the Palace, the air lingered heavy with the tension of a battle to be. The rearguard were waiting with bated breath, the last line of defense between Him and their king. They also had a plan, a unicorn. The fate of the palace rested squarely on his shoulders, and unjustly so. It was not his fight to fight, it was the fools up top, but now he was here, trapped. Nowhere to run, no home to go. The ambassador Shoal, who sought him as an asset and now saw him a friend, regrettably lead the pony to a balcony at the heart of the palace, overlooking the skyline and the incoming force.
“I understand if you still… hate me.” Shoal said, sadness in his voice. “But perhaps fate has lead you here, lead us both. Maybe astray… but if we’re to die this day, least we’ll be sung about – right? To be forgotten is worse than death – so I’ve heard.” He glanced out over the battlefield, fear boiling in his throat. Even with the fine armor he had donned, given to him by the court, he felt naked and alone. He wasn’t a fighter, he never experienced battle, he talked his troubles through over tea and seaweed – not fire and blade. Shade too had been given armor, a fine set in fact. He was told it was left over from the Prism Wars. It was made of silver and bronze, heavy, but it fit well and designed specifically for a unicorn. The chainmail tunic was surprisingly light, like feathered down – the bulk of the weight instead in his shoulders where the ornate bronze rested most prominently. It was clearly designed for a frontline soldier, likely a royal, but now it was his and his alone. Shoal motioned towards the shadow of doom on the horizon, coming far faster than anyone would wish. “Now we just wait for the signal, the firework in the sky…”
On the highest pinnacle, King Whitefeather sat in his throne, waiting for the moment the Dreadnaught slipped into range. The room was rife with tension. A sand table before him with his advisors huddled around, except for Loci who was nowhere to be found. The fleets represented upon the sandy board along with the rank and file of the guard defending the walls and sky. All the kings men waited with tense apprehension for the king’s order. Whitefeather himself sat silently, staring out at the sky beyond the columns. That speck of malice in the distance, growing ever nearer. He tried to keep his composure, stoic, like the statue he wished for himself after his time. His talons scratching into the arm rests, the marble flaking away with each tense grip. He knew so horribly well that his plan was riddled with problems, but his stupid pride wouldn’t let him listen to his advisors. The fleets would suffer an onslaught on all sides – while the Admirals waited to see if the fool king would actually fire from The Line with their ships in the path.
As the Dreadnaught drew near, his advisors begged for orders, waiting by beacons and flags to signal the defensive lines, still Whitefeather held fast. The outline of the ominous vessel was now clear in the sky, the small specks of pepper that were the soldiers of the Hollow clear against the setting sun were visible to all on the vanguard wall. Their commanders ordered the cannons stuffed with grapeshot – the Line loaded with the most powerful rounds in the griffon arsenal. Whitefeather stayed stoic for a moment longer, waiting for the vessel to come within reach of their medium range guns. Even as the forces from the Hollow begun their attack upon the walls, he waited.
“My liege!” Squawked one of his military advisors, “Now?” Whitefeather gritted his beak, his talons tense on the arm rests of the throne. “Fire!”
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Post by Shadestride Scythe on Dec 27, 2012 23:15:08 GMT -5
He felt very ashamed of what he'd been placed into, this unrelenting struggle that went on at first beneath his feet, now ripping it's beak in his face. The armor didn't feel all that heavy when his head felt so light. Shade didn't feel it, but he was running on a subtle rush of adrenaline. Hardly listening to Shoel, aside from the simple, "Mmhmm~", his answer was all but focused. He wanted to forgive, and he would if he weren't so terrified for his life just now.
However in Shade's mind ticked his very heavy pride, which as of late... was put under the Ice of both Loci's temptations, King Whitefeather's muddled arrogance, and Shoel's blaten lies which finished it with a churned volcanic solidification. He was beaten as far as he could take it.
"I... will do what I have to.", he didn't wear his ht, but instinctually his magic gripped the air where it normally would be, in order to tip it downward, but the armor wasn't nearly as loose or willing to move. The chainmail was as cold as his blood for that, the hat his mother gave him usually brought him comfort since early childhood... if he made it out of this alive. He would surely never part with it again. There was another part inside of him, a piece that experessed a rage for all this sudden change, he always desired subtlty, and gradual difference. But here he was left to be thrown into the flames without a fire-resistant suit, like a child without his blanket, or teddybear left outside an orphanage with nothing but the fine clothes his armor represented. He didn't have much heart to talk, but... Shoel's words did bring him comfort. And despite all the shadows, and lies... it was respectable, and... forgivable.
But that anger, yes that brooding anger inside. He couldn't believe it. In the short while he'd been here... being readied for a battle he didn't want to take part in, Shade had learned, and observed much of what his employer King was all about. And he was sickened. He didn't know much about politics, or the ways of ruling... but Shade knew by heart... this was not right, and it was almost cruel in the most naive sense of the word.
He still had his conscience, and he would use it! If the palace must be protected he vowed two things that would keep his hopes. The unicorn didn't want to lose his life for this poor cause, he knew the futility, everypony was talking about it, the Griffon advisors, the soldiers... all how the King was nothing but a ridiculous, boastful, arrogant, irritating, bloated failure!
Fine... In that bloody reality Shade decided upon three things. He would remain all but loyal to this foal King. In this hailfire, Shade vowed to protect the palace for three reasons alone. To keep his friend alive, See King Whitefeather overthrown! And most darkly... keep the palace safe in respect for the far righter ruler to sit upon when the bloody job is DONE!
The stallion grit his teeth, his eyes looking down over the balcony at the battleship in the distance. By the nigh... this was the hour of truth! The moment the guns went off at Whitefeather's bellowsome, annoying command... the dark purple magic rose out of his horn, and shot directly upwards into the sky, just below the very tips of the palace, then rising higher. He had practised well for this... he was the essence of determination like that... A smooth bubble enveloped the palace grounds, slowly clasping to grounds just behind the main gate!
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Post by Red Charge on Dec 29, 2012 3:36:21 GMT -5
A storm of cannon-balls, charged harpoons and balistrae fire rained down on the massive incoming storm cloud that hid the Dreadnaught and her fleet. The cloud absorbing the fire easily, the Dreadnaught's protective magic at work.
"The battle will start on the Dreadnaught's terms alone." Aetos Whitefeather said, gathered with his brother, Leonidas. The two armored Griffons watched vigilantly from the bridge of the Eagle.
"Brother, I feel uneasy about this. Going against a true Whitefeather... We should be lobbying for his benefit, not fighting his forces, our brethren from the Hollow. Hijrat was like a father to us."
"Leonidas, trust in the Divide and let matters fall into place. If Severus is beaten, then he was never right." Aetos reasoned, Leonidas opened his beak to argue and was cut off sharply, "I have considered, as have the others, Severus' position on the Maginot. If a single shot is fired, we will decimate the line. If Severus is an honorable griffon, he does not lie and will aid us in preventing casualties."
Aetos, like his brother was a Royal Griffon, both were not fleet griffons however. They were highland griffons, originally both serving in the Aer Force - in the Hollows, under Hijrat. Always in fierce competition with each other, the two requested assignment to the fleets, relinquishing their rank in the Aer Force and working their way up to becoming two top admirals in the Armada.
However the King, their far removed uncle, never sat right with either of them. In fact, he never sat right with anyone in the fleets. It was only when they became admirals that the two truly appreciated how much disdain the fleets felt towards Royal Rocks. A shaky alliance of the same banner. With their leadership and no small amount of sacrifices, they were able to keep their fleets from flying away. The rest of the fleets stayed from sheer loyalty to them. Gregoros, Clare, Ignatius and Tesla... they were all honorable griffons. Hyems... well, sadly enough neither of them knew Admiral Hyems. He has never once made an appearance, nor did any of his fleet. They were, since the two could remember, just zeppelins in the distance.
Leonidas caught a glimpse of Hyems' elite guard once. He never saw armor like that before, nor since. Something far beyond and above anything he had encountered before. The guard however, took off out of sight before the admiral could get a good look at him.
And now there was a new fleet, the 8th Fleet. Fleet of the Hollows, no longer waiting for King Whitefeather to change his mind, but set on the notion of dethroning the one who had neglected them for so long. A fleet made out of the same griffons Leonidas and Aetos served with.
The storm was no longer coming, it had arrived.
At once the cloud barrier dispersed, and cannon fire boomed through the sky. The Dreadnaught at the front, the lighter, faster ships already moving to assault the flanks. Aetos had to admire the formation Severus used. With the light ships attacking the flanks, the Dreadnaught would have to face less fire at the center, which could only mean one thing.
"He's going to ram through us and we can't stop him in time."
And there he was, Rust Phoenix, streaking through the sky towards the ships, firing fireball after fireball at the frigates. His mechanical screech reverbrated through the metal of the Eagle, Leonidas covered his ears.
There was no turning back now.
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on Jan 7, 2013 16:44:09 GMT -5
The King watched with increasing uneasiness from the observation deck behind the royal chambers. His eyes meeting with the fixed telescope on the deck's railing. The sight of the so called 8th fleet filled him with vicious bile and hate, calling the griffons of the Hollows traitors to the crown. He vowed, watching their ships and griffons engage the Royal Rocks forces, that the Hollow would be wiped clean of all life for this blatant transgressions against the crown. How dare they, he believed, that they could take up arms against their King alongside a creature who neither represented them nor protected them � and even though Whitefeather knew that he cared less for the denizens of the Hollow as he did the grime under his talons, they were still his and his alone. Like a cancer, when the day was through, he�d see them cut from the rot of rebellion.
The first reports of the battle had just begun to trickle into the room, the Kings remaining advisers taking the reports down in order to sugar coat them for their liege. Even though the battle was still young, the reports painted a grim picture for Royal Rocks. With each passing moment, the scene outside grew ever more desperate. The Dreadnaught was making an apparent charge through the main line straight for the heart of the city, the fleet from the Hollows was an unexpected variable that was costing the foreguard countless good griffons. And the Rust Phoenix was burning a path straight to the Palace.
�Enough!� The King Screeched as he back-taloned the telescope. It spun around as he returned back to the throne room. �If that abomination wants to charge us, then he can charge into cannon fire. Signal The Line to open fire.� He decreed, taking up his throne.
�Um, my liege, the 1st and 2nd fleet are in the firing line. They�ll be hit.� Advised a sheepish strategist who reluctantly kept from making eye contact with the fat king.
�Then they will have fought and died honorably in the service of their king. We have medals for this.� The king explained, �Raise the flags, launch the flare. Let the fleets have a chance to break off.�
The strategist nodded and scurried away.
Shoal anxiously paced back and forth behind Shade, the occasional blast or fireball that would come close causing him to flinch, his cackles and crown raising with each dinning roar. He clutched his talons over his ears. �I�m a bureaucrat, not a warrior!� He skittered away from a piece of falling stone. �Eeek! Why am I here? I shouldn�t be here � I have�ta go!� Shoal quickly turned and with a flap of his wings launched himself towards the doors � which slam quickly shut on him by the two regular Aer corps griffons at their posts. Shoal slams beak first into the sturdy iron and wood facades and slowly slides down to a hump of feathers and fur. He rouses himself after a moment and like a wounded dog, crawls back over to Shade. �I� guess I�ll stay.�
Then in the air, a bright green flare goes shot off from the top of the Palace, catching Shoal�s attention. He watches it streak across the sky before dying out. Then a loud blast of horns rattled the city, like roar of some ancient creature emerging from the depths of some dark chasm. Atop the palace, flags rose high, signaling the fleets of the impending barrage about to be unleashed upon them
Shoal�s beak dropped, stunned about what was to happen. He glanced out to the battlefield, with the ships of the fleet still holding the line with their backs to the Line. He slowly rose to all four and slowly approached the edge. �No� he can�t be serious?� He looked back to Shade, completely flabbergasted. �He�s going to fire on our-�
The first volley fired from the line, the entire city shook with terrible force of an earthquake. The roar from the cannons was beyond deafening - windows and glass shattered throughout the city. The battle seemed to hold its breath for a moment as everyone was forced to cover their ears in bitter pain.
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Post by Shadestride Scythe on Jan 7, 2013 17:15:42 GMT -5
Up until that point, Shade merely stayed still, watching Shoel panick with a relative helplessness. He didn't want to be here all the same, but talking took his mind off the spell. Of course he could hold it without much worry regularly, but thinking about it was much easier on him. He almost laughed a bit when Shoel got a doorfull of beak... rather believing he deserved some of it.
"Calm down Sho-", the flare shot into the air, brightening up even the daylight upon them, and his eyes dialated, and he squinted, "That can't be good~", Shade turned his eyes to Shoel, "What?", asking a dumber aspect as to what THAT meant in particular, inside his armor, his ears went down, "Fire on our what-", ROARING of all the guns going off at once caused him to wince, and writhe into himself, unable to cover his ears, it vibrated his helmet the equivalent of shoving an eggbeater into his ear, followed with a blast of unrecognizable Heavy Metal! It pained him greatly inside that suit of mail, nearly keeling him over if it weren't for the spell.
When it was over, and the roaring turned to a loud screech as the rounds soared through the air, and the sky around the first line became littered with smoke and gunpowder, it took him a moment to grasp what had happened. Shade let his heart sink when he looked, "Aren't those our ships?!", just before he could practically feel the ammunition make it's traitorous mark, "That Maniacal Foal! Is he MAD?!", he desperately called out, watching what ensued of course, not surprisingly able to keep the shield at it's maximum.
His imminent focus was diverted all to what King Whitefeather had done, but he was ready for whatever havoc would reign upon them instead~ This was a butchering mistake!
Shadestride Scythe uneasily shifted backwards in his armor, his hooves feeling light, and the armor getting heavier. This was hopeless... one second it was drastic, and now watching this only angered, and stuck a dreadful pain to his heart. The unicorn plopped onto his hind, unable to believe what had just happened, "Shoel did he~ Just do that?~"
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Post by Red Charge on Jan 8, 2013 0:03:19 GMT -5
The explosive blast of cannons rocked the city as the Maginot fired, the impenetrable defensive line, said to be able to destroy any fleet, any force, regardless of size, has sent its first volley. A tense silence followed it, but even before the king or his men could hear the sound of explosive impact, they heard something else.
A horrible screech fell on their ears, the rust phoenix, so loud.... and then, another and another, then all at once half a dozen of them. The griffons holding the Maginot looked up. only to see part of the cliff-side collapse on their heads, followed by flames of anguish. There were six more of Rust Phoenix, descending from above with a hail of flame, devastating the line of fire burning whatever griffon stood there alive. It was only a few short moments after when the first volley hit, not from the Dreadnought, but from the 1st fleet. It struck what was left of the Maginot, and hammered at Shade's shields.
The Aer Force was forced to retreat out of the fleet's line of fire, as the fleets gave way, moving aside to let the Dreadnought through and turning all of their weapons to Royal Rocks. The loyalty of the admirals to the Griffon Kingdom was immeasurable, but their loyalty to the lives of their own griffons and indeed the fate of a kingdom ruled by someone who would sacrifice them, far outweighed it.
Within Shade's shield itself, an explosion was heard, the royal museum took a light to flame, as yet another Rust Phoenix came to life, spinning and sending his searing flames in every direction.
Severus was many things, but he was not unprepared.
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on Jan 8, 2013 2:11:28 GMT -5
The city burned.
The foreguard broke and were routed, the conscripted fleeing to whatever cover the immolated city had still to offer. The outerwalls fell to the storm of flame and cannon. The fleets had turned against them, their king had turned against them and only but the most loyal to the Whitefeather clan still stood their posts. They fought on in desperation, knowing failure was certain but hope still lingered tauntingly. They threw their bombs, cast their javelins and launched their ballista all the same – even as they were systematically cut down or vaporized. The King’s ineptitude had sealed the city’s fate; already the Hollow’s flag was raised upon the outer walls.
The desperate king’s hopes melted away, burned up in the Phoenix flames. He watched, with his back to the chaos. His nails scraping into the throne where he sat. The plume of smoke and fire behind him went unnoticed as he stared stoically at his nervous advisers and chancellors. Every last one of them was quivering with rabble, some wishing to flee while they still had the chance. Others suggesting desperate strategies to turn the tide of battle – the King ignored their chatter. Another jarring quake struck the palace – the luminescent shield surrounding them pulsated, blocking another attack, but it too appeared to be quickly waning.
A terrible roar echoed within the confines of the shield then, the air suddenly felt hot and choking. The King’s griffons turned their attention to the Royal Museum in that frightening moment the dead Phoenix rose from the ashes of the once renowned museum. Now they were trapped inside with it, surely to be cooked alive in a broiler of their own design. That was the breaking point for the King’s advisers, without even giving their King a last parting look, they fled. Some opting for the sky, others rushing down the stairs into the Palace center. Whitefeather rose as they fled, demanding they hold their ground but it fell upon deaf ears – it was if a stone had just crushed his chest as the gravity of the situation befell him. He slipped from the throne and slowly padded towards the observation deck, a sweep of Rust Phoenix fire quickly changed his mind. He shielded his face from the intense heat and fell back, onto his wings. In a panic, he shuffled back to his feet and crawled to the door.
In his panic, he failed to notice the approach of another until he bumped into the griffons talons. “Loci!? Oh thank the heavens, get me out of here!” The King begged, clutching Loci’s arm and scratching at his chest feathers. “We must flee!”
Loci looked down to the pathetic sob with cold disdain, but spoke as pleasantly as Loci could muster. ”My Liege, you are still well? Loci is so very grateful.” Loci said, remaining still as the King clawed at him, begging for help. ”Loci was hoping to find you in time for a message Loci is to give. A most important one.”
Whitefeather looked to Loci most perplexed, what could be so important to relay now. Couldn’t he tell it as they left, why was he just standing there when a Rust Phoenix could be just moments away from roasting them alive. His mind raced with questions. “What? Enough babbling, let us go now.” The king said as he tried to move away, only to find himself pulled back by one of Loci’s talons.
”But my King.” Loci hissed, pulling Whitefeather close to his beak so he may speak softly into his ear. ”You must know this-“ Whitefeather felt something cold and round jam under his head, just between his neck and jaw. ”The King is dead…”
Back on the jutting outstretch of stone and marble where Shoal, Shade and a few Aer corps guards waited was quickly becoming dangerously precarious by the second. Shoal fluttered softly, still dumbstruck by the King’s order to fire on their own ships in some vain and desperate attempt to turn the tide of the battle – or as a threat? He couldn’t wrap his head around it, only able to hold his head in his talons, shaking his head in denial at the complete and utter lack of command and forethought.
When the next wave of attacks came, they came closer and more powerful as the Dreadnaught and the fleets turned their attention to that pillar stretching into the sky. Each strike would feel like a might hammer upon Shade’s head, rattling his brain. Physically, there was no way for the Unicorn to maintain the shield at this rate. And when the Rust Phoenix emerged within the confines of his shield, it was all but certain the shield must fall – if only to save those now trapped inside.
Shoal turned to Shade, shaking his shoulders and pleaded. “Forget the shield, the city is lost. We need to go.” He begged; but the guards at the door weren’t going to let them go without a fight. Of all the soldiers who were staying at their posts, these were the ones Shoal wished most would turn chicken and fly away. Their devotion would be their downfall, thankfully for Shoal and Shade.
A screech echoed from below and the air grew hot around them. Shoal suddenly felt his fur and feathers stand on end and grow stone still. He slowly turned his head to see a great bird of flame and metal rise to great them on the landing. Shoal, acting without thought or consequence, darted into Shade and tackled him to the ground, both rolling out of the way of the Rust Phoenix’s stream of fire and towards the edge of the outcropping, stopping just shy of the fall. The heat burnt away much of the exposed fur of the two, and singing the feathers of Shoal too but they were somehow alive. The same couldn’t be said for the two guards, now burnt silhouettes with splayed wings, like frozen shadow puppets contorted in anguish on the stone surface behind where they had just stood. The only testament to them having ever existed now. The door was blown open and a path to flee was now open for them.
Whitefeather laid at Loci’s talons, a pool of blood forming around him as he clenched his neck with his talons – gasping for air and struggling to move and clawing at Loci’s leg. A single entry wound where the cold barrel had just been a moment before and in Loci’s talons a smoking pistol. The bang from the shot drowned out by the din of battle around them – lost and unnoticed. Loci kicked the King away, leaving him to his fate and snatching up the crown that had rolled away. Whitefeather only had moments and Loci felt it was only right that he should die crownless and alone with only the swan song of his dying city to sooth him into perdition.
Loci placed the crown upon his head, letting it hang slack to the right as he slipped up against the throne. He ran his talons along its cool surface, drinking in its smooth texture and drowning in the power it held. He ran a nail along its engravings, tracing a history with each passing of a grove while his wings flared in the delight of the royal symbol. For a moment, he was the king of all griffons and that power was intoxicating. He had served for so very long under it, behind it, but never on it. He fell onto the throne, splaying himself across the arm rests, letting his tail droop on the floor as he basked in his sort reign as the griffon king. "Long live the King.". He started to reload.
As King’s advisers fled down the stairs, another went up them, throwing herself past the cowards as she made her way to the throne room with a burning inside her. She’d confront her father, end this madness once and for all. Her father’s reign had ended with the burning of Royal Rocks, it was time for another to ascend to the throne and lead the griffons out of their slumber. What she was too find, she couldn’t have expected and it was to fill her with disgust.
She rushed through the double doors, throwing them open. “Father!” She yelled as she entered, only to stop dead in her tracks at the sight that was before her. There, splayed out on the throne was Loci, with crown on head and at his the thrones feet was her father, still and passed, wrapped in a pool of his own blood. Her heart sank, and though she despised her father so, for all his ineptitude, he deserved better than to be felled by the likes of one such as Loci. Drearily she beat her wings and swooped over to his body, falling beside him. She ran her talons over his body, looking into his distant and blank eyes. ”You old fool. Look where your stubbornness got you.” She ran her talons over his eyes, closing them as best as they would allow.
”High though his titles, proud his name.” Loci spoke mockingly, ”Boundless his wealth as wish can claim. Despite those titles, power, and pelf. The wretch, concerted all in self, living shall forfeit fair renown and, doubly dying, shall go down to the vile dust from whence he spring. Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.”
“Loci!” Stygg called, snapping up to the throne over Loci, slamming her talons around his neck. He merely smiled in reply.
”There did once breathe a griffon with soul so dead.” Loci let slip from his beak, chocking with labored breathes. ”So have you decided, daughter Whitefeather? Does Loci bask in the presence of a new queen?” He coyly asked.
Stygg snatched up the crown from atop Loci’s head and threw it aside. “Get off that throne.” She growled and lifted Loci up. He chocked and gagged, grasping her arm with his free talon as he was lifted up and away then tossed to the ground beside the dead king. He collected himself on the ground, rubbing his throat. ”Take that as a ‘yes’, then.” He said with an amused chuckle.
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Post by Shadestride Scythe on Jan 8, 2013 17:59:23 GMT -5
Shade crumped with Shoel without any resistance, simply from the pain of the hammering volleys by the Dreadnaught, or by the fear of the giant bird creature that flew up to meet them. When it became vividly clear that they were able to flee through the scorched doorway... now it was his turn.
With one hard shove of his hind hooves, he kicked into action, not only bolting for the door with powerful strides, but the shield above crumbling away when he refused to keep it up any longer... now was the time to simply let the attackers have it. In some way he WANTED it that way. Not only this, but Shoel felt himself thrown ahead of the pony against his own will, levitated with a ferocity, "JUST GO!", Shadestride screamed, but also laughed in total fear. If he was going to die, he didn't want to do it crying. So instead he did his best to hopelessly have... whatever good thoughts, or fun he could.
As he fled from the giant Rust Pheonix, the shield that supported the palace was now diverted to him alone, in order to cover his and Shoel's fleeing, he kept a rear wall of magic following him, lagging perhaps six feet behind him, sprinting as hard as he could all the while. He was horrified what that beast had done to the guards, but he wasn't complaining, nor sickened, too busy running for his life when his hard gallop caught up with Shoel.
"You know that thing you said about me saving your life?! Don't you dare bring it up again!", though he had to stay behind Shoel in order to keep him from being scorched alive. From then on, the two passed those burnt open doors, and fled into the palace, Shade shutting any doors he could magically all the while, but the shield had taken so much energy from him, he couldn't lock them... relying merely on the bolts in them to do the work. Figuring after a good sprint, he dropped his shielding, and merely ran alongside Shoel, "How are we getting out of here?", Shade panted, his armor weighing on him, but thinking it would be a terrible idea to remove it... he forced himself to keep running.
The sound of the screeching inside brought him to a halt, "That can't be good~", he took that sudden break to FEEL his singed fur... the armor had helped him in the sense it blocked the immediate heat, but now he was sweating harder than he ever though possible.
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Post by Red Charge on Jan 12, 2013 5:25:50 GMT -5
The battle was already decided, with the Maginot gone, the shield down and the flock of Rust Phoenixes circling the Royal Palace there was no hope to win. Most of the Aer Force ships that were still loyal to Whitefeather were either shot down or boarded, they could not withstand the wrath of the fleets. The Dreadnaught's terrible shadow was now over Royal Rocks, the forces from the Hollow screaming in triumph.
A voice boomed over the city, "Subjects of the Griffon Kingdom, for your own safety do not leave your shelters until the fires are controlled and resistance dies down." It was Leo Whitefeather, leader of the second fleet, beginning to orchestrate the quick reaction to try and halt the devastation from spreading. Smaller ships were already heading towards where the griffon zeppelins crashed, to try and locate survivors.
Escorted by two Rust Phoenixes and two Roc Golems, Severus Whitefeather landed on the royal terrace, making his way to the throne room, scores of Hollow warriors following him inside. "Gather the military council." Aetos commanded one of his captains, "A decision needs to be made."
The Military Council of the Griffon Kingdom was made out of the Fleet Admirals, the King, the Governors of Royal Rocks and the Hollow and the Air Chief Marshal. A total of eleven members, two of which were always absent. One being Admiral Hyems and the other being the Hollow representative, as the King always made sure to give them too short a notice to be able to arrive at any meetings, yet refusing to allow them to reside in Royal Rocks on the claim that they will 'lose touch with their people'. But not today. Today, the council will be met at full. Though Admiral Hyems was not present, a representative on his behalf was brought by Severus to act as his voice.
Entering the throne room and noticing Stygg, Loci and the dead Whitefeather, Severus stood tall. "What is the meaning of this?" He asked, Whitefeather dead, Stygg on the throne and Loci at her side. Unacceptable.
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on Jan 14, 2013 18:01:44 GMT -5
“Severus? You’re earlier than I was anticipating.” Stygg said bluntly, rising from the throne which she had only just momentarily collected herself upon. Dangling lazily from her claws was the strange pistol, she made no threatening move with it against Severus. “This must look rather compromising.” She said as Loci shuffled over up to the throne beside her – he had a coy, cocky snakeish grin upon his beak. “See, Loci had quite an offer for me to consider – very tantalizing. Isn’t that right, Loci?” She asked of the mad bird-cat.
”You’re a rusted relic of a by-gone era, Severus.” Loci hissed, ”Honor, tradition, it’s all quaint notions best left to dust and death. The future is in magic and steel. Show him, my Queen. Show him what really matters now.” Foolishly, Loci had stepped forward from the throne, like a hungry wolf creeping towards a sheep, he failed to notice that Stygg had picked her target. The barrel of the strange pistol pointed straight at Loci’s back.
“You overlooked one thing, Loci.” Stygg said. Loci stopped suddenly and looked back, his eyes flashing wide with fear. “I never agreed to your terms.” Loci’s stomach sank, the urgency of flight kicked in and he tried to kick off from the ground with a quick beat of his wings in hopes of fleeing. Stygg fired, a loud crack erupted from the pistol as a stream of green magic shot through the air, ripping through Loci’s right wing before traveling through the nearby wall. The bullet passed through the wall as if it weren’t even there and disappeared somewhere beyond the stone. Loci fell to the throne room floor with a thud, rolling into a column. His wing still hung to bone by a few tendons, but otherwise it was useless and lost.
”You traitorous little-“ Loci screamed, “Shut up.” Stygg said interrupting Loci’s protests. Stygg moved from the throne toward Severus, twirling the pistol with her talon. “Loci had been experimenting on ponies for his little weapons; his room was filled with blueprints, schematics, dairies and journals all detailing his crimes. The barbarism of it was gut-wrenching. I couldn’t let one griffon continue to taint our people’s honor.” She looked over to Loci, “Word of advice, don’t keep such meticulous records.” Looking back to Severus, “I have lists of the others involved in the experiments, some rather unsettling names. They’ll be flushed out and brought to justice – just like you, isn’t that right, ‘Cannibal’?” She said to Loci. Loci groaned, clutching his severed wing and flopping around in pain like a fish on a dock.
Shoal wasn’t much in the mood to argue with Shade about the whole ‘who owed whose live too affair’, now that they were back inside the Palace proper, things weren’t looking much better for them. From their vantage point, they could see griffons from the Hollow, Severus’ forces and Aer Corp regulars beginning the occupying of the Palace. Pockets of Loyalists were still trying to engage the advancing forces but their time was numbered. The lower level had already been secured, and from Shoal and Shade’s vantage point they could see several of the Fleet Admirals assessing the situation, including the Whitefeathers – who were cooperating with Hollow and Severus’s griffons. Shoal crouched behind the railing.
“Oh no, not good, not good. If they see us they might kill us.” He said with a nervous quiver in his voice. “No way down… uh, hmm, we need to go up. Yes, that’s it.” He feverously looked around for an escape route. There was, luckily, one of the doors leading to the service corridors – which Shade would now be very familiar with. “There, let’s go. Maybe the Royal quarters and throne rooms. Might be able to slip past with all the commotion.” With that, Shoal slinked for the door.
“Well, since Loci saw it fit to kill my father. There is no more king and Royal Rocks is yours as you see fit. I formally surrender Royal Rocks to you and your army.” Stygg said as she presented that abomination of a pistol to Severus. “I do believe this sordid affair has gone on quite long enough. Call off the Rust Phoenixes, let the 4th fleet begin rescue and relief efforts before we lose anymore good griffons to this little civil war.”
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Post by Shadestride Scythe on Jan 14, 2013 20:07:51 GMT -5
"Shoel if we surrender to tha Whitefeather's dont you think it would be less likely to get blown out of de sky by the Dreadnaught's guns?", Shade asked, being tugged, but currenlty refuses to go any further... besides; all the running had exhausted him. His armor weighed him down considerably in the process. While he did dread having to make it through all the last bits of fighting... he didn't neccasarily have the strength, nor the unwittful desire to take a boat, and flee with all the guns pointed their way.
But what if they did try to kill them?~ He swallowed uneasily, hesitantly strafing after Shoel... Shade didn't want to get his head taken off, but he vowed he would bow to the one who took Royal Rocks! As unofficial as it sounded at the time, it actually happened despite all the bloodshed, "Isn't there some kinda white flag we can wave?", he asked, not casting the shield anylonger had given him plenty more energy, and already it was replenishing itself but he was still mighty tired, "Maybe a flare~!", he looked at Shoel, "I could cast a light or something! I know the candlelight spell! Uh quickly! What's the color for Surrender?!", he smiled sheepishly.
This might have been the dumbest, and most desperate he'd ever sounded in his entire life.
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Post by Red Charge on Jan 15, 2013 1:51:03 GMT -5
None among those present in the throne room could deny how much power the massive Severus radiated, truly a flashback to the days of the old kingdom and Dreadwing Whitefeather himself. Flanked by magical constructs, two of which of tremendous magical potency, he seemed taller and more intimidating than ever, not a king, but an emperor. He surveyed Loci's pistol before taking it out of Stygg's talon and crushing it into powder in his own.
The Military Council had been slowly trickling into the throne room, observing the scene carefully, silently. Though Admiral Tesla was not present, Admiral Clare, who often saw eye to eye with him had the authority to take his position in the council. The Military Council was in full power.
Shaking his talon clean of the metallic dust and splinters that were once a very powerful weapon, Emperor Whitefeather reached into his cloak, pulling out what appeared to be an ancient document written on old parchment, with a very specific seal. Seal of King Whitefeather the 2nd, King Dreadwing.
"Then by the power invested in me by King Dreadwing, Whitefeather the Second I cancel the Right of Heir to the Griffon Kingdom. No new King or Queen shall take the throne until such time as the Elements choose a worthy ruler, or until such a ruler elects someone to act as regent." Severus said, lifting the parchment up for all to see.
"In their place, the affairs of the Kingdom will be run by the Military Council, with Lady Stygg Whitefeather as head, temporarily removing the seat of the King and the right of veto that came with it."
"This document was written by King Dreadwing and given to me very shortly after the Dragon Wars ended. Dreadwing was afraid the war, the power and the admiration he recieved would corrupt him. He put this warrant into righting stating that should ever a king falter and corruption spread throughout the kingdom, to end the right of heir and make sure that the Kingdom lies in good hands."
"The Dreadnaught will return to the 1st Fleet as its flagship, the Maginot line will be rebuilt." Severus said, "No longer will some griffons wallow in poverty while some live in extravagant wealth. A collection of the sum of half of the nobility's wealth and possession will take place to revive the Hollow's economy and rebuild Royal Rocks. The Military Council is tasked with allocating resources to an economic and educational program to fix the tear within the Griffon Kingdom. From now on, we are not simply co-dependent factions, we are one Kingdom, united under one banner in both spirit and body." The military council nodded with agreement, all seeming pleased at this outcome.
"The fleets will be more than honored to give whatever they can to help rebuild the Kingdom's unity and bring up those who were neglected in the past." Aetos said, recieving an approving nod from Severus.
"As for me, I will return to my role as watcher and guardian, until such time as I am needed once more."
At that, he rolled up the parchment and held it out for Stygg to take, "I cannot give you a throne, but I give you a voice and a united kingdom to back it up." He said, normally this time as conversation exploded around them. "I trust under your guidance, the Military Council could recreate the greatness of our fine kingdom."
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on Jan 15, 2013 20:43:02 GMT -5
“White!” Shoal squaked, watching a detachment of Hollow and Severus soldiers rushing them. Within a moment’s breath, they were surrounded by griffons – both on the ground and air. Their javelins and claws blared. They were for all intensive purposes captured. They just weren’t quick enough to hide in the service corridors and now they were prisoners of the new regime.
“Clear way, clear way!” Said a gruff griffon ascending the stairs on foot, he pushed past the others. “Stand-fast birds, no need for hostilities.” Who came up to them was the Flock Leader of Scythe, Rodrik. A noble griffon who has always stood stead-fast beside Stygg. “Ambassador Shoal, I regret to inform you that King Whitefeather is reported dead and Severus is dissolving the throne to the Military Council. Do you, as a badge officer of the Diplomatic Corp, hereby and henceforth declare your loyalty to the will of the Council?” He asked, raised tall over the nervous griffon – he merely gave Shade a passing glance.
“Yes, yes! Oh yes!” Shoal exclaimed, nodding his head enthusiastically. He elbowed Shade in the ribs, ”Say the same.” He commanded, knowing this was their one ticket out of beheading. Rodrik knew this too, having no qualms with the ambassador. He had done the same for many of the Royal Guard, giving them a way out of the gallows.
Rodrik didn’t need any further proof, for the time being, and instructed his troops to lead the two to the Royal Chambers. There was after all, important matters to attend to and the Sea-pony ambassador and the Unicorn charged with protecting the Palace were to have attendance in the transition of government.
They were quickly lead, as quickly as a pony could be lead, through the palace and to the Royal chambers where they found many of the Fleet Admirals already assembling – Stygg had just offered a weapon, not unlike the weapon Loci had during Shade studying to Severus. Severus crushed in his talon and exclaimed his proclamation. They were witnessing history.
“The Kingdom has slumbered far too long, Severus.” Stygg stated, humbling nodding to his demands. Though they weren’t ideal, they were far better than she could have hoped for if she decided to resist. “I’ll see that our people rise to the stature they so sorely deserve. Hear-ye, members of the Military Council, representatives from the Hollow, all those assembled!” She proclaimed, addressing the room. “The ashes of my father’s reign have vanished, we now will seek representation from all voices of the fleet and the Hollow on matters of griffons affairs. Those involved in conspiracy against the Griffon and Equestrian kingdoms will be brought to justice. No longer will we allow secret and unscrupulous conflicts, domestically or abroad, consume our national spirit. I declare that we shall mark this the day that, as a people, we unshackle ourselves to the antiquated notions of monarchy in pursuit of a rep-“
”Like father, like daughter!” Screeched Loci, from his huddled corner, the mass of feather and flesh drew his hidden pistol to Stygg. In the quick, sudden motion, only his call heralding his intention, he draws and fires, aiming to strike down Stygg straight through the heart.
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Post by Shadestride Scythe on Jan 15, 2013 21:43:55 GMT -5
Seeing as their situation went from awful to outright victory as far as surviving could go... Shade with all respect... followed without question. He was realizing how tired he had become, though his heart was still racing, and his body was hot as Hay in his suit of armor. The pony grit his teeth, and let out an uneasy, yet completely content sigh, "Yes!", he hissed with a quiet snicker. He survived! And Shoel did to! They weren't going to die here!
What made him all the more proud was the simple fact that he, and he alone had resisted an entire volley of cannon, and more! His shield had proven effective, and just as he wanted-if not 100%- the palace was still in one piece. Despite all the bodies and blood and scorch marks of course, there were some places with a mere swabbing and brooming would look brand spanking new! Nopony could compare to him right now... at least not in his mind. He'd done all he wanted to, and that was enough for him.
He still had one more thing to do. He wanted to actually bow, and kiss the talons of the griffon who'd taken Royal Rocks, and freed him from the services of an imbecele king. Yes whether King Whitefeather was dead or not didn't concern him... Shade didn't care! All he wanted to do was watch as whatever ceremonies were cast out in honor of the victors.
Of course it became clear there was instead; a council in place rathe than a new monarchy... but that did not matter one bit to him. All the unicorn cared about regarded whatever would happen next.
Shade when he entered the throne room to catch that last few minutes of peace-making satisfied him, and he could help but smile widely when nopony was looking. He minded the guards who had taken him and Shoel along, staying where he was. In his newfound ecstacy, he brightly leaned to his Griffon friend, "I think we can go to that resturant you mention earlier now, Shoel.", he nodded, chuckling quietly. Trumpets were blaring in his head... screaming victory, and freedom despite him being the one who fought for the defenders.
Twas then he saw the King's daughter. The essence as she should be, a graceful bird despite the control of her situation she possessed. For once he thought he'd seen an angel... and then Severus. When he crushed that gun, and announced what he did, the equine breathed a sigh of total relief. Everything was so overwhelming. Just there seemed to be one thing missing... one set of feathers that wasn't present-at least not directly. Shadestride Scythe jumped when at the barely recongnizable voice that was Loci, turning his head... and EVERYTHING seemed to slow down right about then.
Not the pistol trick again! He was... at least by his knowledge... the only one who had the capability of stopping it. He shoved through when the gun was still rising, shoving passed the guards, "Loci!", was all he could think to say, casting a ray of dark purple energy...
And like that, a barrier came between Stygg and the bullet, hopefully just in time. Like it did before... the projectile would explode on the very surface of the shield, and flatten before hitting the ground like an old, rusty coin.
"Definately not like Father!~", the unicorn snorted, having casted the magic shield before that time felt a lot less weakening. So much it only felt noticeably tiring because well... he was already exhausted.
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on Jan 23, 2013 20:49:40 GMT -5
Shade's shield, by grace or luck, erected between Stygg and Loci's weapon in the exact moment the bullet left the barrel. The ball slammed into the shield at such a degree that it bounced off as the shield failed, flew through the air till striking and ricocheting off a marble column. The bullet soared back to the ground, striking the ground just under Shoal, then flicked back up only to come to an abrupt stop when it made contact with Severus's metal backside.
Stygg stood stoic for just longer than a moment; Loci the same - his breath completely still, outstretched talon with his pistol shaking uncontrollably. His head slowly rose to gaze at Severus, beak agape. He let slip the pistol from his grip and tried with all the strength he had to quickly crawl away - his severed wing anchoring him back.
"Someone, get him out of my sight." Stygg commanded with a flick of her talon. Several soldiers loyal to the Hollow approach and snatch up Loci by his forearms. He tried to struggle against them but it was futile. He screeched and squawked, trying to peck at their talons with his beak. A quick strike with the back of one of their armored talons settled him.
"How much longer do you think our country will last without Loci!?" He screamed out behind a spray of blood as he was being dragged out of the throne room.
"I'll deal with him later; tired of his damnable chirping." Said Stygg before she turned her head away from the wretch and looked to Shade with an appreciative smile. "You need Loci! You need ME!" Loci screeched one last time before the doors to the throne room slammed shut behind him.
"Unicorn, you're the one my father brought here to defend the palace? I'm surprised you stayed your post as long as you had." She praised him, thoroughly impressed. "Shadestride, correct? Please accept my thanks for your quick thinking." She looked down to Shoal next. "Didn't do too bad either, Shoal." Shoal didn't notice her limited praise, still white as seafoam and weak in the knees from nearly taking a bullet for the second time this week.
Stygg returned to addressing the assembled admirals and Severus. "Now that the dramatics are over, we need to begin rebuilding. I propose two days morning for my departed father following the completion of relief and recovery efforts. As for my father..." Taking a quick glance down to his nearby body. She shifted uneasy, mixed feelings abounding inside her. "As for the king. Inter him according to our traditions, but keep it simple. No funeral procession or viewing. Entomb him with his ancestors and lets be done with it. The quicker he slips into history, the better for us."
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