Troubadours and Acrobats

With the passing of the holiday season and the activity it produces, life has returned to it's normal rhythm- with the exception of myself.

Somehow the schedule I have at LunaMara seems hardly enough.
After waking and eating breakfast, I go to the royal chapel to pray and reflect upon God's Word.
Then I go to the court where I listen to my subjects requests, petitions, and et cetera.
This lasts till noon, and I proceed to meet with my officials to sign governmental and political documents and discuss alterations in the administration.
But from there I have little else to do until dinner in the evening.

 I feel like any spare moment of my time must be spent in doing something worthwhile, and if not I suffer such agony.
But the reason for this is no mystery to me; the majority of the previous year was consumed in the terrible war with Palkaan, where every minute I busied myself in planning strategies, giving orders, obeying orders and moving the troops to suitable locations for the most advantage.
I was worn to the bone, and even still I remain less than fully well.

But that does not give my instinct pause.
My hands must be busy!

Wherefore I have taken to early morning rides each day and long walks through the snowy LunaMara gardens at midday.
My lady-in-waiting, Meredith, is continually cautioning me to not overtax myself, in concern for my health.
And I try, earnestly I do, to rest, but once I sit down I become so agitated and distracted with whatever it is going on, and it is not an easy thing to keep still in such a state.

A certain nobleman of my court suggested hiring a troupe of Pasarzian performers to entertain me and divert me from my anxiety, and my lady-in-waiting promptly arranged for their arrival this last weekend.
Since then they have performed every night after we dine.

And the concept has worked thus far; I am wholly fascinated by the lyrical songs of the troubadours, and am particularly drawn to the acrobats with their strange contortions and ability to balance one upon another without falling to injury.
Oh, and the ones that breath fire!
I should think it was sorcery other than the fact that such practice is prohibited.
The entertainers are quite talented.

Hopefully I will be well soon and overcome this habit I have taken too... albeit it will be some time before that takes place.

But do not worry, friend.
I shall write in the meantime.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
 Queen of Krespania

Far From Home

The destination is set, and the coordinates navigated carefully by the stars above.

Not to any location upon which we would wage war in the quest for freedom, but to a place I have eagerly yearned for: home; the idea is almost foreign to me after the many months I have been away.

Like a distant dream with no part in reality, is the sound of it to my ears; I feel as if it cannot be obtained again once the dream has ended.

Krespania should be lovely around now; the streets of Estrillo are probably blanketed with a layer of white snow, and each house lining it decorated with fresh wreaths of foliage and Christmas greenery.

I can see the children playing in the snow, with sanguine cheeks, bright eyes and a merry smile, and hear the greetings of the season from the lips of every person that have ventured from the warmth of their houses into the brisk cold of the day.

Oh, how I wish to be part of it!

My heart wills the ship to sail faster so that I will not miss any of it; but alas, we shall not make port until next week unless a favorable wind is bestowed on us.

Meredith is going to great lengths to cheer me up; she has concocted a mixture in the galley that tastes similar to the seasonal drink of wassail, simply to revive my Christmas spirit, and subdue my depression, but aside from that little else aboard The Golden Dawn reminds me what time of the year it is.

In these unsteady circumstances I wonder if Lennox will ever visit me for the holidays, beings still occupied by the left over wars Palkaan's men are holding in certain regions.

As for Palkaan himself, I deferred to King Brinsley of Asram the privilege of delivering him to the League at the Summit Isles where he will await judgment and ultimately execution for his crimes.

My men are presently still assisting Lennox in concluding the war, but having no further need of my personal command, I took the opportunity to set sail at the earliest convenience to Krespania.

There hopefully I will receive the rest that has been absent in my life and recover from the grueling aftereffects of the war.

I hope I am not too fatigued that I cannot enjoy the celebrations and festivities that will take place at Krespania.

I cannot help but yearn for the cozy nights in front of the fire, mesmerized by the crackling and popping of the wood, with a warm drink and pastry in hand, while telling stories or memories like the tradition Lennox and I have every winter.

My opinion will certainly change later but the thought of organizing a feast or gala sounds welcoming and relaxing to me, even though I usually consider it a most stressing ordeal. 

The stress that comes from planning still has a lightness compared to the grave stress incurred by war and battle.

I think I could cope with it marginally well in light of what I have been enduring as of late. 

And seeing as it as fitting with the time at hand, I will finish with the wish that you will have a merry Christmas and a joyful holiday season.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

Queen of Krespania 

Conclusion to a Conquest

The glorious white light of freedom has dawned upon us once more.

In one day our lives have changed and we have awoken from our long-lasting nightmare unto unanticipated triumph and relief. 

Some time has passed since I last wrote and in that time a dramatic change has occurred to the outcome of the war. 

Palkaan has been defeated!

From my last account you might find it hard to believe, and I assure you, the feeling is mutual, though I have witnessed it with my own eyes.

It was only in my wildest dreams that victory would be that swift, and I can already feel the effect it has in my bones.

Yes, my weariness still remains, but this new zephyr of hope has lifted the heavy burden from my shoulders, making the fatigue bearable.

Despite my outward appearance, I feel alive!

Alive inside, and full of joy and gratitude to God.

Would you like me to explain how it took place?

The details can be spared to avoid overwhelming you.

Continuing from my last account, we remained in South Larlis for some time when we were met by peasants coming from the port of Diamond Water.

Lennox had gathered inhabitants of the devastated cities Palkaan had left behind and sent them on ships to reinforce us.

Meanwhile Palkaan had destroyed Darvern and was beginning to approach us by way of Vernik Meadow, most likely with the hope of doing the same to us in South Larlis.

But unbeknown to Palkaan a plan was set into action that would smite him in his pride.

The peasants that arrived wore uniforms of Agmar soldiers, and I discovered Lennox's own men had traded them for their clothing, in accordance with a plan my brother had concocted.

We waited until Palkaan was in the middle of Vernik Meadow and closed in on him.

Lennox, with soldiers dressed as peasants, came in from the East, Asram's forces, from the South, and the peasants, in soldiers' armor, and my troops from the North and North-west.

Like a cornered rabbit, he had no choice but to face one of us, and since Asram and I had the larger forces, Lennox appeared the weakest link.

He soon discovered otherwise when the said weak peasants fought as fully trained soldiers.

Palkaan fought furiously, but to no avail; he could not retreat or withdraw to form a new battle line, because we surrounding him.

He was caught in a trap!

Jrosselmyr Yendon, the Rebel King of Damar, who commanded half of Palkaan's troops, and had joined with him at Vernik Meadow by way of sea, finished it for us.

He predicted his impending doom and called for a retreat.

In the confusion, Palkaan's men did not know who to obey, and most followed Jrosselmyr as he found a break in our lines and escaped the way he came, leaving Palkaan vulnerable to our attacks and ultimately delivering him into our hands.

Lennox pursued the Rebel King and his men, but by then majority of them had dropped their weapons in surrender, leaving only Jrosselmyr accompanied by a handful of his men to be captured.

As manacles were placed on Palkaan, the man who had destroyed so many lives and inflicted so much heartache to people everywhere, I could not believe my eyes.

Was it really over?

Was this the end of all our journeys across the world as we raced to defend the next place Palkaan had assaulted?

I could not fully comprehend all of what it meant, having been accustomed to this harried lifestyle for many months, until later when I was alone.

The relief was overwhelming, and I felt like crying because of everything that had happened.

But now that some time has passed I am overjoyed by the deliverance the Lord has blessed us with.

We are free of the tyrant that plagued our lands and homes and banished laughter from our hearts!

We can live again, even if it means starting over with some.

The end of bloodshed has come.

Hopefully it will not return any time soon.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

 Queen of Krespania

A Dark Failure

Weariness has sunk into my bones, much like the sun has sunk in the west of South Larlis, where we are at this moment. 

A chill has fallen on the land, and a numbness inside of me.

My constant thought has been a prayer for victory, and for this grueling war to be at an end.

But with the outcome as it is, my hope is dwindling.

My slumber has vanished as of late, either being replaced by restless thoughts and worries, or by harried planning. 

What little rest I do receive is not enough, leaving me still tired when I wake.

Such as at present, I find it more comforting to write than to rest. 

I wonder, is Palkaan even human?

 How can he continue this game of cat-and-mouse and not feel the strain as we do?

Will he not tire of it and surrender?

It must be his greed and lust for power that feeds and drives him on past human strength. 

Or an inner wickedness controlling him...

I might as well explain what has transpired that has driven me to this point of dismay, though I must admit it is not so instantaneous as much as it has gradually effected me.

A few days ago our troops, (Asram's and mine), traveled north into the plains of Unoomad, when we unexpectedly crossed paths with Palkaan and his men.

We formed a defense line, and took part in a brief but bloody skirmish.

In the end we were forced to retreat being overpowered by the multitude of his soldiers, and fled to the southern country, and to the city of Manderk.

He followed taking control of Tion, and then divided his troops into two groups.

One division pursued us, and the other bypassed us to the west and overtook Cirdon, the capital of Unoomad.

We knew the city Manderk was not a fitting strength against Palkaan, much as Tion was not, and withdrew further North to the fortified citadel of South Larlis. 

Now you can understand my dejection.

It seems as though we are always retreating, and Palkaan ever getting stronger and closer to victory.

He seizes any city and land within his reach, and does not halt long enough for us to recover or retaliate.

Will we be able to endure more of this?

Or will our cause die, and us with it?

Dear friend, 

I wish you could speak to me, and share with me an encouraging word or a comforting verse of Scripture. 

For I fear I may not survive much longer in this hopeless state. 

-Emerald de Gavrillac

 Queen of Krespania

Victory Within Our Grasp

We sailed into Tion, completing the last leg of our journey upon The Golden Dawn.

If only it were the last leg of the war. 

The voyage was not as grueling as before having been reequipped with supplies from our Vez-Dûn friends, and the only testing was that of our patience in the weeks upon the waves that followed. 

My anxiety met a climax as I pondered the welfare of my brother in those last days.

But upon arriving in the port, I discovered Lennox had graced me by sending a letter of his recent whereabouts and health, bringing me abreast concerning the confusion wreaked upon the continent of Unoomad and Cressenar. 

I will disclose the contents of his note below:

Dear Emerald,

This is my account of the events that happened these past weeks:

We stealthily approached Unoomad not knowing whether Palkaan was there. 

A few of my servants found that he was further south in Cressenar. 

We sailed through the Unoomad River and some time later we sailed upon Tarqu. 

 A few days later Palkaan's banners came waving on the southern horizon. 

After many days of a partial standstill, an arrow hit me in the left shoulder while I was on the dock. 

It was not a mortal wound, but in fact I recovered exceedingly well. 

I had a lot of time to wonder what ever happened to my thirty troops who were caught in Erreli-Lion; could they be with Palkaan in Atoe? 

Sri-Qing an Agmarian Prince arrived unexpectedly with his academy friends: Franchot Fon'Dam and Jacob Dallahandro; I told them of the situation and they came up with a marvelous plot. 

The three snuck into Tarqu, the city occupied by the enemy. 

But some time went by, and not hearing anything of them, I began to worry. 

After all, they are still amateurs, and I must help them, on account I was responsible for getting them into this mess. 

I crept into Atoe, the enemy-occupied city across the channel. 

It was surprisingly simple, I thought Palkaan's guards would much more vigilant. 

The night was warm, damp, and drizzling, and the hour was late, while I perused the city. 

I noticed an obscure figure in the street coming toward me, and hid in the shadows as the shady character went splashing by and then disappeared around the corner. 

I glanced down at the footprints left by the shenanigan, and just as I expected the footprints were of a split-toed shoe mainly worn by San-Vey's Shinobi legions, but assassins tend to wear them too. 

I followed him into the Castle of Atoe, where I found Palkaan sitting on the throne and beside him was Jrosselmyr Yendon, the Rebel King, whom our father sealed into the castle of Damar, so that he may die for his treason. 

Ask me not of how he escaped! 

I returned to the streets, where smiling Franchot came up behind me, and took me to his comrades. 

From them I discovered my troops were alive and well within an enemy garrison near the Atoe castle. When the clock struck mid-night I penetrated the garrison and sprung the prisoners. 

I loaded the ten dwarves into the horse-drawn cart we bought, on account that they cannot run quite as fast as us humans and Vez-Duns. 

Here, I will state the scenario as plainly as possible: In the southern most part of Unoomad is the riverside city called Tarqu; in the northern most part of Cressenar is the riverside city called Atoe. 

Both cities are split by the Lathan's channel, and in the north end of Atoe is a castle perched upon a two-hundred foot tall pedestal, (the kind you see in the desert), with a spiral inclined path leading from the ground, up to the top of the pedestal. 

And directly north of the castle is a mile and a half stone bridge that stretches across the channel. 

Both cities' castles and pedestals are identical they are just inverted, where Atoe's castle and half of the stone bridge looks north, Tarqu's looks south. 

And in the middle of the bridge is a large guard tower. 

I think that is all of the geography that is key to my story.

Anyway, as we peaked the incline I set fire to the top of the cart that held the dwarves, as a distraction. The cart driven by Franchot, blazed down the bridge, and the passengers lunged out of the burning cart and off the bridge into the water below, where Sri-Qing rescued them in a boat he commandeered. 

The Vez-Duns and us, Humans, ran to Tarqu until our lungs were a fiery furnace and our legs braking at the knee, but we could not stop, for the enemies archers were lining the front of the castle at our rear, ready to fell us at any moment. 

Just then Palkaan saw that I was in the midst of them, being between their castle and the central guard tower, and chose to fight me personally. 

He strolled out to me in his finely polished gold armor and his rich purple cape, which dragged the ground behind him. 

His sword clashed my shield with great might, I could feel the impact tear the tissue in my shoulder. We had recently discovered explosives on one of the bridge's supports on enemy-occupied Atoe's side. 

I slowly fell back until Palkaan was on Tarqu's side of the bridge, with hopes that we could detonate the explosives while Palkaan was on our side; if we could succeed at this, the war would be at an end. 

Sri-Qing lit the fuse, then I heard a guard yelling to Palkaan about the set explosives. 

Palkaan hesitated a second, then charged with great force back toward the castle. 

The bomb went off, and he lunged with all his might as the stone bridge began to dissolve beneath him, landing safely on the other side. 

It was over; I got my troops back, and Palkaan got away. 

My shoulder ached as I walked slowly back to Tarqu. 

Palkaan promptly repaired the stone bridge with a wooden drawbridge, and built multiple bridges across the channel, with drawbridges on their ends. 

A week went by before I heard the invasion alarm clanging. 

Immediately screams and yells where heard throughout the city of Tarqu. 

I told my generals to evacuate the peasants, soldiers, and nobles and through all the commotion, I lost my escort and anyone familiar. 

People were running frantically, and by the time I got my bearings, Palkaan's soldiers were approaching. 

I swiftly fled into a nearby building only to find seven abandoned, orphans. 

Plotting a war is easier then protecting seven adolescents. 

I mean, violence is an old acquaintance of mine, but blood and death is not something children should see, especially at their age; (the oldest is not yet thirteen.) 

Anyhow, I found an enclosed wagon that was being guarded, and I told the orphans to linger behind for a second. 

Meanwhile I snuck around and slammed the first guard into the side of the wagon, and flipped the second one over my shoulder and onto the ground; the third I slew discreetly, and slid him out of sight. 

With the children in the wagon, I barreled down the streets of Tarqu; guards and soldiers tried to block the street, while others pursued us on horseback. 

We finally broke out of the city, and traveled relentlessly west through the sandy dunes of southern Unoomad. 

We traveled through the oasis village of Ciridin, and came to Fort Sardick, the final location in my account so far. 

I hope things are going well for you and Queen Acora. 

As for me, considering all that I have endured, I am marginally great.

Sincerely,                      

      Emperor Lennox de Gavrillac     

                            of the        

                    Agmar Empire

The nearness of capturing Palkaan has brought on a surge of excitement in myself. 

If only we could attempt this again.

If only we would be successful; then the war would end.

Emerald de Gavrillac

 Queen of Krespania

An Audience With Egotism, Pt. 2

Inside my cabin I could share my true feelings with my Lady-in-Waiting about what had just taken place.
“Meredith, I truly wonder if going to war is as stressing as that meeting was.” I said, lowering myself to the divan.

“I pity you, Milady, having to face him like you did. But despite that, you handled it to perfection, in my opinion.” My Lady-In-Waiting poured a cup of Jomacha and delivered it to my hands.
“There is one thing I am curious about. You indicated that he knew your ancestor Cedric, but how could that be possible? That would make him at least-”

“Three thousand years old? He was actually born in the first age,  and precisely three thousand, five hundred and seventy-three years old.”

Meredith's eyes widened. “But he looks only to be about thirty years of age! I would never have thought him that old!”

I told her only what I had been told which was that he was a Langilike Vez-Dûn, a race of Vez-Dûn that was blessed with long life. There were only a few that existed of this race, and he was the most prominent.

“Yes, he does look young, and he is handsome too.” I admitted. “But Meredith, what is your thoughts?”

“Do you wish to know my opinion, or what I see?”
“I consider them one and the same. Speak freely to me.”
Meredith had proven her unique gift of insight and intuition of the real nature of people many a time at the court of Krespania, and I trusted her judgment.

“Simply put, he is egotistical and entirely selfish. I do not think anything I see will amount to anything others cannot see. His self-consuming is obvious.” She paused for a moment as if to think.
“I credit him with this: he is completely honest. What he says carries no deceit. But he has little fear of anyone being more intelligent or more superior, and subsequently, he has no faith in his fellow man.
“I must admit his character and peculiarities leave me wondering as to what has occurred in his life to result in such a merciless and proud nature. Has the power he has born these many years made him thus? I cannot help but wonder.”

“Well, it has not helped him any that there have been several assassination attempts upon his life. And I could probably say he has not any faith in man because he has lived through so many generations where all have proven their wickedness; He no doubt feels it would be in vain to do so.” I said, then added with a smile. “Not that he is any saint himself.”

I sipped from my Jomacha. “Though there is a mysterious in him, that I find intriguing, despite his intimidation. And something else to be admired...but I am not quite sure of what it is. Perhaps it is the authority in which he speaks and moves with, or his stalwart discipline. Hhmm, I doubt we shall meet again, since invitations to Isoloyia are very rare, so I shall probably never know.”

And that was the end of the discussion of King Hyndralad de Gundalia.
Once all of my armada had sufficient resources we set sail, where we are today: heading to Unoomad to face the trials reserved for us there.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
 Queen of Krespania

An Audience With Egotism, Pt. 1

At last, Isoloyia!

I could never find a more welcoming sight at that moment than it's tall towers of white stone gleaming in the sun, as pure and noble as a brilliant star.

Embedded high upon the mountainside, overlooking the city stretched out beneath it, stood the royal Vez-Dûn citadel and home of King Hyndralad de Gundalia.
As with all his structures, they represented his rule and character: cold, magnificent, dominating yet admirable and glorious.

That is according to the reports that have been told to me.
And only now have I had the chance to confirm or deny those rumors.
Though it mattered little to me, as long as I received my supplies.

When we put into port the steeds were unloaded and my company (which consisted of Meredith, my captain, two generals, four soldiers and my bodyguards) and I rode to the citadel, where we were escorted by the guards in their disciplined protocol through the wide halls to the throne room.

The interior boasted of opulence and grandeur though not ostentatiously; the architecture and décor was  set in such a way that it appeared clean, economical and without extravagance. It was as if there was not a pretension to impress any one, but that this majesty came simply and effortlessly.
The throne room was the same: the marble shone almost as bright as the snow in the winter sun, and great pillars rose to the tall ceiling on either side.
A crimson carpet lead the way through the center of the chamber and up the stairs to the raised dais at the end of the hall.

Even I, in my finest Krespanian gown and royal apparel, felt small and inadequate in such a place.
But this was nothing compared to what I was about to face.

A lone, slender figure sat on the throne that was drawn out in an island in front of the dais and directly above the stairs that descended from it.
And somehow just seeing his rigid posture as straight as the back of his marble throne sent trembles through me.
It was all I could do to keep my walk steady and graceful, as we approached, for in that instant I knew the rumors to be true that told of him as being stern and unfriendly.

We halted some distance before the nine foot dais, and bowed in homage to the Vez-Dûn king of Isoloyia.

The light through the deep sapphire pane of the three large windows behind the throne reflected against the silver hair of King Hyndralad, and sent colorful designs playing across the floor by our feet.

I hoped my voice would not betray me.
“Greetings, I am Queen Emerald de Gavrillac of Krespania, your humble servant.”
He looked down at us without lowering his head and said, “As I, King Hyndralad de Gundalia, greet you.” with a deep and commanding voice that lingered in the wide hall.
“I presume you have come to collect your supplies from us.”
“If it pleases Your Majesty.”
The corner of his lips turned slightly in a wry smile. “And why should it please me?”

This took me aback, and I was at a loss for words. “I-I... apologize if it is an inconvenience to Your Majesty. It is only I am in desperation; my ships have been depleted of all food and ammunition. We cannot possibly assist my brother, the Emperor, against Palkaan with what we have. If there were any other way...”
Hyndralad was silent for a moment then rose slowly from his throne and circling around it, descended the stairs of the dais.

I did not realize how tall he really was until he drew near; he stood two heads taller than I, which I would calculate to be about six foot and seven inches.
He studied me with his autumn-golden eyes, as if I were transparent and he could read every detail of my life.

I had never had the trouble of feeling inferior, being in power as I am, except for this moment; I felt as if I were only a peasant under his overpowering gaze, nothing more than dirt on the floor.

He made me feel as though I did not belong there; As like a slave, I should cower before his magnificence.

I so feared those penetrating eyes that I begun to drop my own to the floor, but then halted.
Why should I cringe before him? He is no more superior, that I should lower my eyes in shame.
And what about my soldiers who are starving inside their wooden prisons?
I must be strong for their sake.
I raised my head and boldly met his gaze.
I would not be intimidated.

He drew back slightly, and lifted his chin higher.
“My countries resources will be exhausted if I supply your needs. I am sorry, but I cannot help!” He said sharply.
“If you will not help for the good of others, then do it for my ancestor Cedric's sake!” I quickly retorted.

My anger replaced the fear inside of me, and the words spilled from my lips.
“Have you so easily forgotten your friendship with him? The only human in whom you put your trust?”

“Cedric,” He said, thoughtfully. “I knew not that his descendants still remained on the throne.”

“Only my brother, Lennox, who governs Agmar, and I, over Krespania, exist at present.” I said, and continued. “There is also my uncle who-”

King Hyndralad waved his hand for silence.
"Yes... I can recognize a little of Cedric within you. Wyles."
A servant emerged from the shadows. “Supply the Krespanian armada with all that they request.”

I bowed deeply, relieved that he did not continue to resist.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. My kingdom shall endeavor to repay you for your assistance.”

“It is not necessary. If I state a need for something in the future, perhaps...but for now we shall leave it as a gift for Cedric's descendants.” He said, then withdrew the same way he came, as if a sign the conversation was over.

My party bowed our leave, and only when I was back aboard The Golden Dawn and safely within my cabin did I breath a sigh of relief.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
 Queen of Krespania