Easthaven. The last bastion of Revallia in the east. This town was simultaneously bursting with human activity yet was always enveloped in a sense of calm and tranquil. All of that was gone now. A grand army choked its streets. Songs of religious praise filled its air. The Adventurer's Guild convened in another meeting.
"So, it has begun," Erich said. His expression was impossible to read. The sparks of emotions ignited brightly in the meeting room. Though most were sombre, a few were absolutely furious.
"Well, they're morons," Alexis said. She was, of course, in the angry camp.
"Do we have any information about the elven resistance?" Dorothy asked, her normally calm voice shrill.
"Yes. I managed to briefly pierce through their obscurement a few days ago," Guildmaster Erika said. Some whistled in awe. Even Alexis seemed impressed. "They've mustered an army of sixty thousand to defend their capital, Ters Vitoria, and more troops are being mobilized from their northern counties."
A magical map projection shone brightly in the middle of the room. "They're gathering forces in Ters Pantrasia as well—around fifty thousand or so. Also, there are around ten thousand in scattered formation. Their mages are definitely on the ready as well, since they immediately increased their defences after I pierced it. Their fleets are also mobilizing, but I don't expect them to matter much."
"What about the drow?" one Adventurer asked.
"They've been moving some troops to the border but so far no significant movement."
"The Schauffenbergs kept their word, didn't they?" I muttered.
"Of course they did," Alexis muttered back.
"Elven northern reinforcements would number around thirty thousand to one hundred thousand, depending on how commited they are to stopping the invasion."
"Damn, those are some bad odds," Alexis quipped, though in her tone I could decipher that she truly wished to say to the King,
take that, moron!
"Well, we need to think of contigencies
in case
the elves win and then attack us," Guildmaster Erika said. "I've drafted a plan, so listen well ...."
It would be impossible for us to simply evacuate Easthaven—that would be tantamount to abandon the many villages and civilians that would be victims. Furthermore, Easthaven was
home
. How could one abandon one's own home without a fight? Even more, Guildmaster Erika opined that we needed to put up at least a show of resistance to dissuade further elven attacks. So a plan had to be drafted: a stand at Easthaven to purchase time for civilians to evacuate.
"You can't do this!"
Hearing that cry, the entire Guild rushed out. A dozen members of the Slaver's Guild were arguing with Imperial Agents, priests, and knights. "Guildmaster Steven," Guildmaster Erika greeted a bulky man standing rather aghast. "What is going on here?"
"Guildmaster Erika," he spoke. "They took away Alissa."
"Alissa? Alissa
von Schauffenberg
?" Alexis asked. The man nodded.
"Brilliant, they've undone all my work," Alexis cursed under her breath. Alexis and I went to the gates while the Adventurers scattered. We crouched on the roof of some tall house.
King Verence IV was young. He had ascended the throne but a few years ago following the (supposedly natural) death of his father, King Verence III. The regal king made an impassioned speech. "This land is ours! Go forth, recover it from those thieves and banish them from the land ...."
The vanguard marched out eight abreast. Heavily armored knights on horseback, then infantrymen. Imperial Mages followed. Banners were flung high and songs were sung.
The Second Sylvan War had begun.
The following weeks were tense. The Adventurer's Guild wanted at least half of its members present in Easthaven at all times, so Ariel, Ursa, and I switched places every few days. King Verence IV took residence in the mayoral office, forcing Mayor Sombart, ruler of Easthaven, to take temporary refugee in a tower near the Slaver's Guild.
The Adventurer's Guild, naturally, was privy to the war's proceeds. House von Schauffenberg had sent a strongly worded letter demanding Alissa's return. When the demand was rejected, a squad of Shades was sent to retrieve her, making a mockery of the Imperial Guard that was supposed to hold her hostage.
It was pure chance that Erich and I were patrolling the outer gates when the Shades bolted past the city walls with Alissa. Neither of us made any effort to stop them. "You see those markings on their neck, Darryl?" Erich asked casually.
"It's midnight with no moon, Erich," I said.
"Ah. Apologies," he said. "But they do have markings. They're Shade Ascendants, not mere Shades. I fear what this means for us all."
"Shade Ascendants?"
"Yes. Powerful Shades who had undergone a special ritual. They're quite formidable, as you just saw. If you were to fight one of them, the odds would be roughly even, I think." Erich tilted his head. In darkness I couldn't see well, but there indeed were some markings on his neck.
That night, another letter was left.
You shall pay.
Written in elvish and complete with the seal of House von Schauffenberg, there was no doubt who sent the letter.
Early on in the war, small groups of chained elven prisoners-of-war were sent back to Easthaven; the Slaver's Guild refused to process them as slaves. Yet, as the war progressed, it looked like more and more wounded men were what returned, not spoils. A month after the war—so about three weeks after Alissa's escape—some upheaval happened in Easthaven itself.
The vast supply depots that lied just outside Easthaven had been a hit with a spell. Its magical defences were breached almost effortlessly and the grains and other foodstuffs inside became rotten or otherwise inedible. "A modified necromantic spell," Alexis said to me. "This isn't elven magic."
"Drow magic?"
Alexis nodded grimly. "It's a ritual curse, a specialty of the drow."
"Can we do anything about it?"
"With ritual curses, the casters can reverse it. But for us, it'll probably take at least months to figure it a reverse spell," Alexis said. "This isn't good. If they can destroy food supplies and farmlands like this, everyone in Revallia would starve ...." Her words trailed ominously.
The final blow came in the form of a special 'envoy'. It was Saint Tiara, naked and with insults branded all over her flesh. White sperm flowed out of the Saint's vagina and anus. The Saint herself looked brain-dead, convulsing randomly. Occasionally, she would blabber some incomprehensible words. Alongside her was a general whose face betrayed a maelstrom of emotions. One branding on her stomach shook the hearts of many.
We are coming.
King Verence IV and his Imperial Guard immediately rushed to the town hall. All knelt, except for the Adventurers (read: Guildmaster Erika, Alexis, and I). "Your Majesty, there is no disguising this terrible defeat. Our entire force has been wiped out or captured without being able to inflict much damage."
"Outrageous!" King Verence IV shouted, his voice shaking, "I sent a army hundred thousand strong. How could we lose?" The general was also shaking.
"Your Majesty, their numbers were greater and they knew the terrain far better. Their mages also used spells far stronger than ours. Furthermore, supplies have been very scarce and we were not able to forage."
There was a stunned silence. The young king seemed unable to comprehend the terrible defeat he had suffered. Guildmaster Erika and Alexis looked at each other and for the first time I saw genuine worry in Alexis' eyes. What broke the silence was Saint Tiara, who began masturbating and moaning. Two guards dragged her away, her blank expression the stuff of horror.
King Verence had turned his back and was about to leave when who else but Alexis shouted. "Where are you going?"
"To Revallia City," his head of Imperial Guard said. "Your Majesty, let us leave soon ...."
Alexis was beyond furious. "Abandoning your own people,
Your Majesty
?" she mocked.
King Verence IV and his Guard did not answer. Half an hour later, they had fled to the relative safety of the capital, Revallia City. The very next day, reports of elven scouts raiding the isolated, defenceless villages near the border had arrived by the dozens and then hundreds. The day after that, a wave of refugees from the eastern fringes of the Kingdom arrived en masse.
Panic would have seized the city, but Mayor Sombart—a short, overweight man—was able to restore order. "People of Easthaven, I request that you remain calm," he said in the town hall. "Guildmaster Erika, if you will."
Guildmaster Erika stepped on the elevated platform. Previously, her face had been one of worry, but now it had become one of a fiery, impassionated leader. "I am Guildmaster Erika of the Adventurer's Guild. From now on, I would ask you to gather your belongings and prepare to evacuate to the west. We will begin evacuation tomorrow morning. Don't worry, but be quick. The Adventurer's Guild will protect you and defend the city until all of you have evacuated."
I understood the strategy—Easthaven and the Adventurer's Guild would be a dangerous threat to the elven counterattack. While they spend time fighting us, the civilians would have enough time to escape.