"Yes, sir."

The store hadn't been open that long, about an hour or so, and in walks a family.  They are multicultural, the parents are white but the kids look like Pacific Islanders.
Mom and daughter quickly find their way to the stuffed animals, while dad and pre-teen son look at some PS4 games.  The boy sees the new Watch Dogs game and goes over to his father with it.
"Um, sir, I, uh, can I buy this?"
The man looks up from browsing some other games,
"You can call Dad, David."
"But, sir..."
The young girl approaches hugging a small teddy bear,
"Daddy, Daddy, can I have this, please?"
"Of course sweetie!  Why don't you go over to your mom and she can help you pay for it."
"Okay, Dad!"
Mother and daughter head for the register, while the father turns his attention towards his son again.
"Look, David. I know this is a big change for you, but don't worry... you can call me whatever you want, until you're ready, okay?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, what else do you want to buy?"
Dad and son pick up some more games and after buying them, the kid looked a little depressed.
"Is something wrong, son? Did you want something else?"
"Sorry, sir."
"Why?"
"The games are too expensive, sorry."
"Not at all!  It's your birthday, right?  You should get something nice.  You did a great job taking care of your sister."
The boy looks at his mother and sister, then dad, with the biggest smile.
"Thank you, sir, eh, Dad."
The father's smile didn't budge an inch all the way to the parking lot.

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King's Guards - Continued

Roleplay from Logar Soul

"Another report, M'Lord"
"put it with the rest I have there" Logar grumbled with a sigh.

Reports had been arriving for most of the evening. Logar spent that time reading, re-reading, cycling through the same reports over and over, his face expressing concern.
"May the Bloodmoon save me from despair!" he chanted, as he threw down the last report, sat back and rubbed his eyes with his palms.

'Asylon is being overrun by monsters. Where have they come from?' he sat thinking 'Astrum Dogs! what kind of witchcraft is this?'
Then the revelation hit
"The peace treaty is cursed!" he hissed!

Roleplay from Logar Soul

A commotion could be heard just outside of his tent, whilst Logar studied ancient texts of times long past and almost forgotton. At that moment an angry man of large build; with a head of long gray hair tied back; stormed into the Marshals tent.
Without flinching, Logar lifted his gaze from his reading, glimpsed the man who so boldy barged his way past the guards, then returned his gaze to his texts.
"What are you doing here Father?" Logar questioned, without looking up.
"Is this how you greet me, your own Father? Wheres the wine?"
"Over there, help yourself" Logar replied, still gazed upon his scrolls, which interested him more than the presence of his abrupt visitor.
"I need to speak to you Son" his Father stated whilst sipping wine directly from the flask.
"Make it quick, I am busy"

Logar's Father was a brutal man; or had been during the upbringing of his two sons Usul and Logar, and his shameful daughter Sharn. Now without any communication to either of them for over a year, he had decided to pay Logar a surprise visit, much to Logars distaste.

"Oh come now Son, can you not show your Father a smidgen of respect for once" Father requested, "I have travelled far to see you."
he walked around the table to where Logar was sat, then approached to give his Son a warmly hug. In that instant, Logar slammed down the scroll he was reading, thrust his chair backwards, stood up and swiftly moved away from the poor attempt of his Fathers act of compassion, leaving Father stunned and somewhat ambarrassed. Father downed another swig of wine from the casket he still held in his hand.

Logar turned to face his Father and with angry expression blurted out "Respect!? Maybe you should have thought about that before banishing your own Daughter from the family estate!"
Father now stumped for words, downed another swig of wine, then another....then stated "I am here to talk to you about your Brother Usul...."

Roleplay from Logar Soul   (7 minutes ago)
Message sent to everyone in your realm (46 recipients)
"....and what news of my Brother can you possibly tell, that will interest me?" Logar replied, "I care not for my Brothers escapades."
"I have recieved some news" then putting down the casket of wine, "Usul has played a part in a rebellion in the Far East, overthrowing a government"
Logar then poured a cup of wine for himself "Well there seems nothing unusual about that, does it Father?"
"What if I told you that he has landed himself a position of High Chancellor" Father continued, "And is rumoured to have abused his position by performing acts of torture on his enemies"
"Then he is no more guilty than his own Father!" Logar expressed, refering to his Father's own methods of discipline and training "You taught him well"

Father swiped the casket from Logars hand, took a swig, then paced around the tent casually, studying varous items that lay randomly around: various maps, trinkets; picking up Logars sword, he pointed it Logars direction, looked down the length and ran his fingers along the cutting edge "You need to take greater care of your sword Son, It may be the difference between life and death" he said, "The safety of my favourite Son should be paramount. I am proud of what you have achieved here."

Knowing his Fathers methods, Logar questioned "Get to the point, what are you after?"
"Usul is bringing bad taste to our family name. I want you to speak to him"
"Are you mad? Can you no longer handle the merest sip of wine in your old age!" Logar retorted, "Usul will stab me in the back given the opportunity."
"But you are the only one who could possibly get through to him" Father pleaded, "He will not return my letters. You have no choice!"

Shocked at that last remark, an order as such had not been forced upon him for several years since leaving the family estate to seek his own path in the world "GET OUT!" Logar demanded, then in tone akin to a whisper, but with clenched teeth "You do not control me any more. Now Leave!.....Guards!"

As the guards rushed in, "Please take my Father away from here. organise an entourage of 6 men and escort him safely back to his home estate" in knowledge of the dangers of such a journey, whilst monsters rampaged the lands.

Roleplay from Logar Soul

The past few weeks had begun to take its toll. logar was exhausted.
Himself and the last remaining survivor of his unit; whom had been savaged by beasts; together travelled the Mech regions evading all foes and working in the shadows to perform their maintenance work of the regions.

Logar had received promising reports from his knights, and heard tales of their recent battles against the beasts that were savaging the realm. The Kings Guard were stomping towards Lavendrow cutting down any wretched creature in their path.

Logar and his single loyal Captain now daparted from Mech Calen on a journey to rendezvous with the rest of the Guard in Lavendrow.
'It has been far too long my friends' Logar quietly thought to himself, realising the countless weeks it had been since enjoying the comforts and joy of the taverns, with his knights of the Kings Guard. With this thought, he suddenly felt a warmth in his heart, knowing he can share a drink once more with his friends.

'They only need to get through Faithill....Hmm Faithill'

Roleplay from Logar Soul

Logar entered the tavern, stood inside of the entrance and scanned the room.
It was late evening and the tavern was bustling with strangers from many walks of life: Traders, farmers, common-folk, soldiers 'negotiating' with whores; and as expected, Lord Liam sat in a corner sipping ale whilst mulling over paperwork.
It had become a habit--Almost tradition--for the knights of the Kings Guard to spend most of their time performing their duties from the comforts of an ale-house, Something I must address

Logar was in a hurry to reach Lavendrow; but as he was passing through; wished for the short honour of sharing an ale with Liam, whilst discussing news of recent events.
One ale became four, and after 3 hours, Logar knew he must make haste for the road once more.

They parted with farewells and reminded each other of the coming Winter in two days time. With that thought, Logar walked on with his captain by his side, into the dark night--A gentle chilling breeze began to blow.
Logar entered the tavern of Lavendrow. The 'Sword Swallow Inn' was an extremely popular gathering hole for the more wealthy of men--Peasantry and misfits were forced out simply from the unspoken message set by the scrutinising frowns expressed by the regulars with large purses.

The whores were doing their rounds, entertaining and teasing the crowds, enticing easy drunken prey to place coins in their bulging purses, before accompanying them to various rooms on the top floor. A chuckling, giggling group of young ladies huddled together aound one man at the end of the bar. Finally catching a glimpse of the popular man through a gap, as one of the girls swayed slightly to the left; There as expected, was Vice Marshal Jericho telling tales of his new mighty weapon he had aquired just the day before.

Logar approached the crowd, and one by one the girls walked away after catching glimpse of the Marshal, recognising the air of authority about him.
Now when all the girls had moved their attention to other unsuspecting victims in the bar, Logar sat beside the Vice Marshal, grinned and orders two ales.

"Great to see you again my friend" Logar spoke, "I am glad to see that recent events have not tarnished your taste in fine ladies"

Together they talked, and talked, laughed and drunk. "I really must teach Lord Axylia the correct use of the compass" Logar expressed "Inklen is the opposite direction to Lavendrow, Bah! Either that, or his scribes need to be replaced by more competent folk"

Jericho handed over his new unique axe, when Logar requested a look at the fine weapon.
"Beautiful" he stated, whilst swinging to and fro, clumsily knocking over his ale, then accidently catching his leg armour leaving a healthy chink. Another swing assured that he lost his grip resulting in the axe dropping to the floor, bounced until 'clunk' it laid to rest after hitting the foot of a large bearded trader.
Angrily, the giant of a man stood up and charged towards Logar with intent to harm.
At that moment Lord Adrianus; whom had been watching the events unfold from the opposite side of the room; Charged in between the burley trader and his Marshal, halting the trader in his tracks. Adrianus whispered something unheard into the trader's ear. The trader knodded once at Adrianus, then at Logar before returning to his seat.

Roleplay from Logar Soul

Logar put the quill back into its place in the inkwell, gave the parchment a gentle blow, drying the last moist words of the letter. He picked up the letter placing it firmly against his chest, knelt down beside the burning campfire and muttered the words "I continue to pledge my alliegence forthwith--To Asylon, to my King, to my fellow Kinsmen and to the Bloodmoon fruit. Along the path that hath been thrust upon us...we shalt prevail!"

The young lad whom Logar had befriended with the offer of gold during his journey to Via; now a hired messenger; stepped forward from the 
shadows into the illuminating firelight. Logar handed him the 'pledge of alliegence', giving orders to deliver it to the King with haste.

Roleplay from Logar Soul

The knights of the Kings Guard were in the Capital gathered in the tavern--Where they always worked best from.
Logar was stood, with eyes and attention of his Knights fixed upon him. He gave his speech announcing the temporary disbandonment of the Guard until new lands are found, before exchanging his gratitude to each and every one of them. He was proud of them and what the Guard had accomplished together.

Logar sat down after dispensing his touching words, he gazed towards the opposite corner of the room in a somewhat daydream, thoughts wandering. He reminisced of his time in the West, of the friends he had made, the battles won and lost, the scars which still remained; Then another thought occured What of the Stranger?
As if willed by the Gods, in that moment a band of traders dispersed from the bar revealing the sight of a single figure sat in the corner--Staring in his direction. Logars heart skipped a beat with the recognition of the person who closely watched him; The posture was unmistakable--The 'Cloaked Stranger' had returned to speak with him!
"My friends, please excuse me for a moment" Logar requested to his companions, before making his way to meet with his 'friend' in the corner.

Roleplay from Jericho Barrons

The men grumbling and worried could not stop talking about the families and friends left behind. Jericho sympathized with them, his heart filled with sorrow at leaving Asylon behind. He was comforted however, knowing he was travelling in good company. And with a sly grin, he wondered if his Marshal's "stranger" would be following the Asylonian troops across the sea. His heart had skipped a beat after his Marshal's kind words, when he saw Logar with the mysterious one. Her dangerous airs intrigued him and he somehow felt safe knowing she was near. He briefly wondered what that meant to his manhood, but he his thoughts were interrupted.

"My lord Jericho!"
Jericho turned and saw one of his men escorting a dirty woman to him. "She says she knows the mighty warrior, Vice Jericho!"
Jericho walked up to the bosomy woman and held her face, and as he looked at her luscious lips, he remembered. " Marie, from fat bottom farms! what a delight, this can only be a good omen for our journey." 
The moon smiled down on them and Jericho began to whistle a merry tune as the men marched toward Uppervia. His manhood intact, for the moment.

Roleplay from Logar Soul

Sat opposite the 'Cloaked Stranger', Logar smiled. Still he could not see the face beneath the dark shadow of the hooded cloak; But he knew the face which lurked beneath shadow, and the reason why his Sister wished not to reveal her identity to him.
"Did you receive the scroll?" she asked without formal greeting.
"The scroll?" Logar replied, "I should have known you had a part in that"
"I happened upon the trade during my travels" the stranger explained, "I arranged for it to find its way into your hands. I am pleased it reached you my friend".
"I thank you again, Stranger".

For an hour they talked in quiet mutterings and whispers which kept private their conversation.
Logar stood announcing his need to depart, to the stranger "My friend, my jouney cannot wait no longer. It is time for me to leave".
The stranger also stood to bid Logar farewll, "before you depart...Here, for you will need this more than me for this journey". She unclasped the trinket which hung from its silver chain around her neck, and pulled it out from beneath her hood.
"My sacred Bloodmoon!" he blurted out in a whisper, whilst accepting the return of his gift from the once Priest Axylia.
"It brought me much luck during my quest" the stranger explained, "Now you are on your quest, it is only fitting for it to be in the hands of its true owner"
"My friend, I thank you for all you have done for me" Logar held out his hand. The stranger lightly grasped his hand for a moment before releasing it again.
"I am travelling by hills and road" she spoke whilst turning and walking away, "I will see you again Marshal Loger....On the other side!"

With her back to him, Logar caught a moments glimpe of  her long, flowing brunette hair; as she removed her hood;  before she was swallowed by the crowd and had disapperaed once again.

King's Guards

The storm raged above as the army of monsters could be seen advancing.
"This storm will be the death of us" came a voice from somewhere down the line,
"Stay focused, otherwise the beasts will be the death of us" another replied.
Nobody could ask for worse conditions for an archer.

The battle ensued, the 'Thorns of Soul' were way out of their league with regards to combat strength. The men had a goal though. The goal was to 
rid of the region of the scum and protect the innocent inhabitants of Inklen. In fact, being the Lord of Inklen, this place touched the heart of 
Logar more so than any other. And the difference between the monsters and men? The monsters dont have a goal. Monsters consume. They merely 
consume for their own savage greed without regard for any living thing but themselves. They have no other agenda.
Despite the odds, Logars men held together. In close cobat, arrows were exchanged for daggers and blood spilled. Logars men fought bravely. Half 
of the beasts had been vanquished already. A decision was made to retreat whilst the chance exposed itself with fewer human casualties than had 
been anticipated.

Whilst tending to the wounded from a distance, the remains of the monsters could be seen grouped at the foot of a hill. Logar knew that the next 
wave would be more favourable for the men 'We will wipe them out' Logar thought to himself. That was until shadowy figures appeared on the 
skyline, 15 of them. As the figures moved down the hillside in the distance, it became apparent to everyone watching, of the horrors that 
awaited.
'Monsters have called reinforcements? This is not normal behaviour for beasts!' Logar thought intensely 'An organised moster hoarde? This is of
grave concern...'

Roleplay from Logar Soul

Stood outside of the war tent, Logar looked out upon the camp below. Still with half of his original unit, Logar could not help but feel a strong sense of awe for these men who have fought so bravely and loyal beside him.
'We should have all been slain by now', he muttered under his breath, but still recognising the tired haggered looks in their eyes.
In the shadows of twilight, he caught a glimpe of a shadowy figure approaching.
Logar released the grasp of his dagger when he recognised the figure to be that of his scout who should have returned 3 hours prior.
"M'Lord, I have news...."

Logar approached the camp and made an announcement. The soldiers fixed their attention to the words of their Marshal, their eyes expressing fear.....but also hope.
"My brave soldiers", Logar spoke with genuine passion whilst a gentle smile appeared "Fear not, for it has been reported than Sir Brynden and his men have entered Inklen. Reinforcements will arrive by morning"
The men cheered! They cheered and went into song. They sang! The buzz of joy can be felt strong in the air all around. They wanted their foes to hear, they wanted to intimidate their monster foes....

Far across the valley, the beasts looked across toward the tiny, flickering speck of the campfire opposite. "Them 'Hoomans' make silly noises" 
Grunted one of the beasts.
Roleplay from Logar Soul

The buzz of activity in the streets of Via could be seen once again. The sheer energy and aura of this great city could be felt sending a brief tingling sensation down Logars spine.
Upon completion of repairs, Logar was briefed by the blacksmith of the recent activities of Sir Brynden during his visit. Logar was disinterested in the petty tales that seemed to amuse the blacksmith. One thing did interest Logar though... the news that Sir Brynden had already departed from the great city not more than a day ago.

"Make haste men, no time for foolery today. We need to catch up with Sir Brynden" Logar announced, then whilst chuckling "That sly demon!  wishes to claim all the glory for himself huh?"

Roleplay from Tordan

Happily chugging along on a country road an immensely tall man crowed with straw golden hair that hung loosely around his shoulders. His body clad in battle-scarred studded leather armor and on his back a massive tower-shield that made him look like a human turtle.

Humming a cheerful tune where he occasionally snuck in a few lines of singing he was clearly unconcerned with local wildlife or thugs even. Not surprisingly more than a few peasants were gawking at his large physique. ''Morning!'' He greeted them but rare was answered in turn. He didn't mind though, Tordan was coming through and his road led to monsters heads that he would happily crush.

Roleplay from Logar Soul

Marshal Logar very gently brushed the foliage aside catching sight of this tall wiry figure strolling casually toward him. The tall stranger, oblivious to the presence of Logar and his men blending with the bushes that concealed them, whistled a familiar Asylonian folk melody.

The tall stranger, now clearly a mere commoner, halted in an instant when he found himself gazing down the length of an arrow just inches away from his nose. Surrounded by arrowheads, the man remained motionless whilst the archers ahead of him moved aside. In the clearing stood Marshal Logar of the Kings Guard.

After much questioning, Logar felt a slight warmth growing for this man, the man called Tordan. Tordan, although a mere commoner, was still an Asylonian and can hum and sing very well. But Logar could also see in this man, a deep yearning to strive for success and honour. This is what impressed Logar.

Upon Tordans release, Logar done something that most noblemen would hasten to avoid. Marshal Logar made a plea to the commoner.
"Tordan, may I ask you of something?" Logar asked, "If you as an adventurer, ever were to come into possesion of a unique item during your travels, would you be so kind and consider me as a potential honest buyer of the item? I pay well and will offer my respect to you in return. If you are unable to find me, any noble of Asylon will be willing to pass on a message..."

Roleplay from Tordan

After a lengthy discussion annex interrogation Tordan was faced with the request from the Marshal of the Kings Guard. He himself still stood looking at the dozens of archers with bows readily at hand. Was this really a request he wondered to himself. Perhaps a shade of his thought may have crossed over his features but he hoped none had noticed.

In a deep voice he addressed Marshal Logar ''King Guard Mashal Logar.'' Tordan pauzed a short moment to lend weight to his words or just to make sure that he didn't make any mistakes, either way he wore a serious expression. ''When next I find an item of legend such as the enchanted helm of the vulcano that I found before in the mountains near the city of Via, I shall try to find you.'' 

Raising a large hand and pointing it at the Logar he looked the Marshal right in the eye. ''I hope it will be weapon I find.'' At the end of the sentence Tordan's mouth curled into a grin. ''A mighty weapon! I know why you don't wear a bow yourself!'' Tordan looked at the many marksmen about. ''You want to show your enemies that you are a true warrior! One that is both great in skill and unequaled in bravery!''

A roar of laughter erupted from Tordan's thoat. His demeanor entirely unfussed and actually quite cheerful. His large physique not used in any threatening way but he could see over the heads of many of the men present.

With that the little giant of a man left again, roaming the lands and searching for the Marshal's new weapon.

Meet Jericho, Vice Marshal of the King's Guards, Ladykiller, Monsterkiller, and all around fun guy!

Gonophor, Asylon, the bane of the Guard's existence!

Roleplay from Jericho Barrons

As Jericho neared Gonophor, his skin crawled. Massive trees stood saluting the moonlight on the horizon, hiding the beasts within. The air smelled of smoke and blood and fear. Occasionally his men would retch, as they passed body parts left to rot on the road, decapitated heads gazing at nothing.
Jericho spoke a little too loudly and uncertainly to Captain Theoderic,  It seems that these vile creatures have been growing in strength and rage. I fear we may lose the region!"
Captain Theoderic looked at the young knight grimly and spoke seriously, "Fear for our lives Jericho, this looks bad."
This will be the first time Jericho sees how tuly evil these beasts are, thought the captain, I pray to the goddesses we find Marshal Logar alive. May this battle be quick!
The men continued their approach, the howls of sorrow ahead ringing in their ears.

Roleplay from Jericho Barrons

Leaving the dark forests of Gonophor wrapped in night behind him, Jericho was excited to be out in the open under the stars. He could see his breath steaming in the winter moonlight, and was grateful for a moment of peace on the road, even allowing his mind to wander to thoughts of milkmaids and bloodmoon.
"Halt!" Captain Theoderic snaps him out of his reverie and he sees a shrouded figure approaching. With his hand on his sword and a wave to his archers, he readies his men. They continue to march and as they near the figure Jericho relaxes.
Could it be? My old friend Sir Axylia is a Priest! wonders Jericho.
With a happy shout, Jericho runs forward to embrace the travelling man, and ends up stumbling and falling over a burnt log, sounds of laughter behind him.
Ever one to sacrifice for his men, Jericho relaxes, Eeh gods, we could use the laughter, I guess.

Roleplay from Axylia Dundrave

"My friend!" Shouts Axylia as he moves towards the band of soldiers carrying the banner of the King's Guards.

"I've got business in Gonophor but I have time for a drink and perhaps a sermon at the request of the Marshal, is he near?" Axylia slouched to his knees and slowly unrolled a flask wrapped in a fine silk cloth.

Again to Gonophor, creepy place

Roleplay from Jericho Barrons

Jericho and his men made their way uneasily back to Gonophor. The horrors they have seen fresh in their minds, their hearts hardened against the corpses still rotting by the roadway from the previous rampage. The men no longer retched, instead Jericho could hear nothing but the leathers and armour singing their tune as they marched.
As the trees of the great forest loomed once again in the winter moonlight, white rainbows danced in front of the men. With baited breath, they wondered if a new threat hid on the path ahead. For a light so beautiful should have warmed their soul, instead it filled them with dread.
With a quick shout, the men picked up the pace to join Marshal Logar, as he too had seemed uncertain of the road ahead.

Jericho strays from orders....again to Gonophor!

Roleplay from Jericho Barrons    

Lord Jericho looks at the reports from his scouts in the dawning light. Just after debriefing his men on police work in Kosht, he notices that there is extra help arising everywhere. The Harbingers have risen to the occasion to defend Barrow Peaks and Shuberstone, thank thee folds! Inklen needs help and Gonophor is reportedly at province occupation. Jericho decides to forgo the Marshal's orders and head to Gonophor to police. He briefly wonders if he will be reprimanded by the competent Marshal Logar. Perhaps a gift from one of his Fat Bottom girls may appease the overworked Marshal! 
"Get ready men, change of plans. First, you do remember I am Vice Marshal, right then? We are straying from our orders while Marshal Logar is off singing to the moon! Let's head out to Gonophor and teach those suspicious peasants a thing or two about loyalty!" Jericho shouts to his men and Captain Dankmar with just a little bit of excitement at breaking the rules. Taking the chance, they head to the forsaken forests of Gonophor to repair the region once again.

Roleplay from Logar Soul    

Having just returned from a short trip involving personal matters, Logar felt at peace to be back within the safety of his camp. Upon hearing of his arrival, Logar's ever loyal Captain Dirk made haste to report to him.
"M'Lord, Lord Jericho has took it upon himself to abandon your orders and now travels to Gonophor", the captain reported, "I shall order my men to bring him to you immediately, Sir!"
"Stop there now! Tell me something, captain...", Logar replied
"Yes M'lord?"
"What are the duties of Vice Marshal?", Logar continued
"To issue orders to the army in the absence of the Marshal, Mlord", the captain confidently answered
"Tell me Captain Dirk, shouldn't you be addressing Lord Jericho as Vice Marshal Jericho!?", Logar snapped
The captain bowed his head in realisation and replied "umm yes M'lord, I understand, please forgive my abrupt naivety. I I I just thought maybe..."
"Please continue", Logar commanded
"Well, I just thought maybe Lord Jeri ...umm...Vice Marshal Jericho plots to overthrow you Sir"
With that remark, laughter boomed throughout the tent as Loger fell into hysterics "Ha Ha Ha! Dirk my friend, you really tickle me sometimes", Logar chuckled, "The Vice Marshal merely made a decision in my absence using the information available to him at the time. As I was absent on a personal venture, The Vice Marshal simply made the best choice he saw fit"
"Very good M'lord", the captain replied with embarrassment
"One last thing", Logar added, "If the Vice Marshal is a wise and patient man, he will be entitled to the Marshal position when such a time arrives that I wish to step down. If the Vice Marshal is an impatient man with a lust for power, he can honourably offer to dual me for the seat. Would you agree, Dirk?
"That is correct Sir!"
"That’s settled then. Thank you for humouring me Dirk, you have cheered me up no end", Logar said still grinning, "That is all, you may leave".

Roleplay from Logar Soul

"M'Lord, Priest Axylia has been spotted heading in this direction from the West", the Marshal was informed by his captain.
"Ahh excellent news indeed" Logar replied, "Make preparations for his arrival. Prepare refreshments and arrange my visionary robes".

The sacred Bloodmoon heeds my request and comes before me...

Roleplay from Logar Soul

Logar stared at the glistening object cupped snuggly in his left palm. Candlelight reflected from the glassy vial, like over-exctited fireflies desperately trying to protect the sacred liquid within. The vial contained a small supply of the sacred Bloodmoon. During Logars first journey into the fold, Priest Axylia had departed unnoticed, leaving in his place this precious gift. Logar was thankful for the Priests guidance and of the gift.
Suddenly, an almost unnoticable draught of air stimulated Logars senses... he felt a presence.
In the same instant, Logar with the vial grasped firmly, drew his dagger and placed it to the throat of the intruder who had approached from behind.

The intruder spoke, softly, almost feminine. Although Logar could not see the figure disguised beneath the dark cloak, he sheathed his dagger and listened to the words of this mystery stranger who was able to slip past his guards.

The cloaked stranger left as swiftly as she had entered, simply leaving an almost unnoticable draught of air in her wake.
As the flap of the tent returned to its rested position, Logar expressed a wry grin, thought to himself : The Bloodmoon showed me your face, little one. I have been expecting your arrival

"M'Lord! News from Lady Quinley has arrived!", Marshal Logar was notified at last of the whereabouts of Lady Quinley and recieved a report written in her own hand.

Now Logar sat, alone, pondering silently once again......

The recent monster activity occuring all over Asylon concerned him. First there were the repeated attacks on Gonophor, then the mauling of Inklen. It was during the battles in Inklen that anomolies had revealed themselves to Logar. The routine eradication of a monster hoard was followed by enemy reinforcements, not once but twice in succession. Organised communication and tactical strategies of that magnitude, performed by a monster race, have rarely been witnessed.

Following the battle for Inklen, Gonophor was once again under attack. Why the interest in Gonophor?
Upon beginning the journey to Gonophor, another anomoly. The monster race had clearly made yet another strategic move.  Echiurfield was stormed by the monster rebels. Nothing unusual there, except that echuirfield is considered the division between the North and South of Asylon...the bottleneck. Taking control of Echiurfield splits Asylon in half and acts as a monster defense to prevent entry into Southern Asylon, therefore protecting the activities occuring in Gonphor. Why the interest in Gonophor?
The fact that Lady Quinley and Sir Brynden were missing only complicated matters.

Following the battle of the 'bottleneck', Logar and Sir Jericho knew nothing of what they will find in Gonophor.

Logar was once again, only hours away from entering Gonophor when he recieved the good news of Lady Quinley. She is still alive after all. But what of Sir Brynden?
What will myself and Sir Jericho find in Gonophor?

Roleplay from Jericho Barrons

Jericho and his men made their way uneasily back to Gonophor. The horrors they have seen fresh in their minds, their hearts hardened against the corpses still rotting by the roadway from the previous rampage. The men no longer retched, instead Jericho could hear nothing but the leathers and armour singing their tune as they marched.
As the trees of the great forest loomed once again in the winter moonlight, white rainbows danced in front of the men. With baited breath, they wondered if a new threat hid on the path ahead. For a light so beautiful should have warmed their soul, instead it  filled them with dread. 
With a quick shout, the men picked up the pace to join Marshal Logar, as he too had seemed uncertain of the road ahead.

Roleplay from Logar Soul

Logar pushed forward with his men. Corpses lay along the roadside not only of men and women, but also of monsters. These monsters appeared to be of a lower form, particularly of physical size and strength than those beasts which had already been slain in the many battles that the Kings Guard had experienced.
Is this some kind of genocide taking place here? Are these newly evolved race of monsters, we have already encountered, cleansing their own race of old junk?, Logar thought to himself.

Logar continued with the ongoing encouragement to push his men past the horrific scenes that clearly disturbed the minds of his soldiers. Without giving away any sign of his intentions, Logar marched his men towards a nearby source of light. A slightly rainbowlike beam of light emminated from the ground, illuminating the area of ground and trees around it. As they approached the clearing, the light extinguished abruptly filling the immediate area with darkness.
How does one describe the smell of fear?, Logar thought to himself, Fear always has a unique but undescribable aroma associated with it.

Of all of his men, Logar already knew that this young soldier would gladly come forward to take up the task. A brave and enthusiastic lad by the name of Rothic stood up "I will volunteer M'Lord!"

The hole in the ground was not a sheer drop. Instead it gently sloped into darkness, barely tall enough for a man to stand with his head hunched forward. Rothic was handed a lit torch as he entered the mouth of the dark hole and disappeared around a sweeping bend, the distant torchlight quickly fading.

For 5 minutes Logar and his men surrounded the opening, standing in silence, all looking at each other with raised eybrows, anticipating for something to break the silence. For a split second, the earth gently shook. Now the men stared at each other with puzzeled looks. Suddenly the earth shook again, this time with force. The men were knocked back and fell to the ground. The quaking of the earth denied the men the ability to stand on their feet. Instead they crawled outward away from the hole in the ground.

Logar stopped crawling and allowed himself to look back over his shoulder. As thoughts of that young soldier Rothic ran through his mind, Logar witnessed the hole closing. The hole moved with a likeness to a living entity and was closed shut revealing no evidence of it having ever been there.

Logar thought to himself, Somebody is clearly now aware of our presence here tonight. They are not pleased....

Receiving new reports from the Southern regions, Logar was aghast. First the hunger, then came the hordes of beasts taking the opportunity to devastate the regions whilst the Kings Guard where occupied by other business in the North. The Guard were not far now. Travelling the quickest pace his men could muster, Logar entered Tofino alone.
Monsters had arisen in Vakreno cutting Logar off from the rest of the Guard now slightly delayed.

Approaching the southern border of Tofino, Logar found his path blocked by a Horde of beasts, seemingly awaiting his arrival. It was clear this was an intentional road block preventing anyone passing through the corridor to the South and disrupting their campaign.
At the order, Logars men in unison pulled back their bows and fired. Battle enraged!

The Guard needed to get into the South, delays only make matters worse. With this thought in mind, Logar ordered his men to charge. The men charged and broke through the ranks of the beasts, they broke through the blockade taking the lives of many foes as they went.
Leaving the beasts behind, Logar continues his pace, now close to entering Aspar, the rest of the Guard not far behind finishing off what remains of the monsters.

"Halt!", Logar ordered.
An item looking suspiciously like a scroll laid deliberately expose on the road ahead. Logar, ever wary of bandits and highway men, cautiously ordered his men into a defensive stance and sent one of his nimble young archers to run ahead and retrieve the scroll.

Logar studied the scroll and found it addressed to him. The elusive 'cloaked stranger' had left him another message...

With his arm stretched out in front, dangling from his fingertip swung a bright silver chain. Logar was again subdued by the glistening vial,which hung from it, containing the bright red juice of the sacred Bloodmoon. A gentle breeze and a familiar faint, dirty-sweet odour wafted past his senses. The 'cloaked stranger' is here, Logar knew.

Continuing to admire the dangling necklace from his fingertip, without turning, Logar spoke in a sarcastic tone "I thought you had departed already, on your quest"
With face kept in shadow, the hooded stranger replied in a low voice "I wanted to see you first before I leave, to bid farewell to a friend".
"Don't say another word!" Logar snapped, "The next words I wish to hear from you are those of greetings....when you return".
He turned about and faced the 'cloaked stranger', still unable to see the eyes beneath the hooded cloak. Logar held out the silver chain which was reluctently accepted. The stranger stared in silence at the vial of bloodmoon juice, then looked again at Logar.
"That there is sacred to me, may it bring you luck" Logar announced, "I want it back upon your return. Now go!", then in a lower tone "safe travels....friend"

Alone once again, Logar pondered.
'I know you will never reveal your identity to me, but I do understand why' he thought to himself.

Roleplay from Logar Soul

Leaving the milita holdings where his unit remained, Logar walked on with almost reluctance. His unit was dear to him. Having spent many dark months together through the long winter nights, they had all learned to work together in unison and thus had grown a great fondness for each others well-being. They had been tested many times by certain evils that walk the lands.

Now without the burden of men and equipment, Logar pressed on.
He quickening his pace with every thought of the importance for reaching his destination with haste.

Upon passing the borders of Asylon into Vassar; The Phantarian lands; Logar recieved reports from several men and women fleeing frantically toward him with their children and few posessions.
Monsters!
Without question, Logar vacated the road immediately and continued his journey, cautiously through the valleys and fields of open country, seeking to avoid confrontation.

It was two days now, since Logar had left the comfort of the milita holdings in Gonophor. He now travelled a brisk walk, often breaking into jog, then shortly after, dropping back to a brisk walk. He continued this pace throughout the daylight into darkness, only stopping each night for 4 hours rest.
Having travelled through monster-ridden Vassar mostly unnoticed; and the peaceful region of Shoka, which surrounds the glorious Phantarian capital city of Shokalom; Logar began feeling a sense of warming comfort. Inklen!
He allowed himself a gentle smile as he thought of how close it was. Just a few hours away... Inklen... Home.

Roleplay from Logar Soul

Logar awoke, startled!
Working for most of the night mulling over the piles of scrolls on his desk, he had not realised that he had fallen asleep, exhausted, hunched over with forehead planted firmly upon his desk.
For crying out loud! he muttered as he realised he had knocked over the inkwell smearing ink all over important reports and down one side of his face, Logar you silly pisspot!
Logar jumped, half out of his skin upon hearing somebody behind him, clearing their throat, purposfully making their presence known to him. He swivelled in his chair to face the person who dared to invade his space and froze momentarily when he saw who it was staring down upon him. "You!" he blurted out without self control.
With a smile on the face of the 'cloaked stranger' present, but naturally concealed beneath her hood, she spoke "Hullo again Logar".
"Sh....friend!", Logar cried, almost joyous. He wanted to leap out and hug her. He flinched, but kept his composure. He knew he needed to contain his stern approach and show of strength as Marshal of the Kings Guard.
"Its a relief to see you again, stranger" he said, "Please excuse the mess, much has changed since your departure on your quest"
"My quest is far from over, old man" the stranger replied, "I just felt I needed to see you once again. Whilst I was in the vicinity, I gathered some local information for you". She handed Logar a report.
A flash of light caught Logars attention as the stranger spoke, and he found himself glancing at his vial hanging from the silver chain around the strangers neck.
"yes my friend, it has brought me much luck" the stranger announced, having noticed Logars sudden distraction.
"One question" he asked, "how are you able to still possess my treasure after you were captured, and spent a week in the dungeons?".
"Now now old man" She replied, "One should never question a lady of the secret hiding places she may possess upon herself!"
Logar stared for a few moments, bemused at her answer.....then expressed a wry grin, before churning out huge laughter, at the realisation of what this stranger has just pronounced.

Dirge of the Storm General

Give praise to the Storm General!
Lord Mihail, his name,
For he sacrificed himself for us,
Not for glory, nor fame.

A man of pure honour,
To him respect somewhat due.
A class 'A' strategist,
Those dogs had not a clue.

Those Astrum dogs came sniffing,
One dark stormy night.
From the shadows Mihail stepped
And spilled fear and fright.

I hate to bring bad tidings,
But a tale I must tell.
Of the tragic death of our General,
Of the night that he was fell.

Giving orders to mighty men,
Not from afar, but amidst the turmoil.
Then suddenly a rain of arrows,
Fell from above--impailing in soil.

There was one lonely arrow,
cast by William of Morek
Glaumring the intended target
But strayed--Oh Heck!

We mourn the loss of a Hero.
This empty void we shall fill,
With the blood and bones of our enemies,
Good Sir, Can you not hear them shrill?

Give praise to the Storm General!
Lord Mihail, his name,
For he sacrificed himself for us,
Not for glory, nor fame.