Author Topic: Serpentis Resurgence - Ehrendill Eyolf Serpentis  (Read 6346 times)

Eduardo Almighty

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Battlefront - The Battle of Viseu
Ehrendill & Ayden

There was no glory and little honor in retreating to Fontan – and a great lack of logic and logistics to stay in a besieged city while he could return to Sirion for a proper refit. Yet, this was a golden opportunity to visit the old capital where his father had triumphed. There, so close to Negev where his elder brother Dürion had bought ancestral claims and given the final blow to the corrupt Democracy, isolating Fontan city from Karbala and the rest of the world. Now the city was about to fall again. The time of Dobromir and Atanamir had passed and their kingdoms had been succumbing like them. It didn’t matter to the young elf, so he marched with his Stormwalkers giving them the status of heroes they deserved after the sacrifice of serving as targets to the cowardly strategies of a new world populated by archers. With Ecthelion’s gold, he chose the best tavern in the city to house himself and his troops until the new orders arrived. Besides, he was worried about Lady Ayden and wanted to meet with her again: a Serpentis knew how to recognize another important and prominent family. They were young blood and Xavax seemed to live from the worship of a certain JeVondair.

So, in the best tavern he could find, Ehrendill spent his days waiting, drinking the best wine they could get there under King Rowan's benevolence. Surrounded by seventeen survivors, squires, some scribes and servants, they enjoyed the local music and cuisine while the young elf posed as a warlord even that having been his first battle. The bard was the one who helped to give this impression, for this a bard was paid: to flourish the truth, to increase his achievements a bit and to give an epic touch to the mundane affairs of a young noble. Rusul was his name, he had been born in the harems of Avamar, his ancestry belonged to the Sultanate and he appeared before everyone covered in an azure robe and a white turban, the colors of his benefactor. His fingers touched the strings of an Oud and the sound he produced was magical, capable of transporting men to higher spheres or deep into the abyss, for that was his gift: to manipulate human feelings.

Rusul, the Bard: “May the Battle of Viseu be known as the Ascension of the Azure Dragon of Sirion. There, in the front line, at the head of the northern armies against the empty speeches of central democracies and the southern chaos, the Serpentis have returned! The Silver Dragon would be happy to see his young heir leading the infantry clash against the archers' cowardice, for this is how they fight at the dawn of this new age, hidden behind ranged combat, impersonal and fearful. With the flags of conquered and defeated realms behind him, Sir Ehrendill Eyolf Serpentis advanced with his brave Stormwalkers under a rain of arrows down the right flank with Lady Ayden's Fearless in the center and the Pentel Guards on the left. Looking ahead, his elvish sword blood-thirsty, he didn’t listen to the Stormwalkers falling behind him, for his storm wolves perished in silence without giving the enemy the pleasure of seeing their blood or hearing their lament. To them belong the Iron Plain where the army of the dead prepares for the last battle between men and elves! The Pregrine Guards waited for them for personal combat, nobles unshakable in their conviction, staring at each other as the arrows rained around them, some whipping the great shield that the squire tried to carry in front of his Sire…”

The bard played interlude notes in a well-thought-out thriller; his feet dancing across the hall and his agile hand snatched a goblet of wine with which he wetted his throat before his epic conclusion.

Rusul: “However, in all its benevolent grace, the young dragon looked to the side and saw when Lady Ayden was struck and fell wounded by Edvard’s arrow. We all know how the Serpentis love women, especially the ferocity of those who fight on the battlefields. We all know how the Serpentis love women, especially the ferocity of those who fight on the battlefields. The young elf pushed his shield-bearer to cover her with the elvish metal barrier while his eyes were filled with fury, advancing step after step in the forest of arrows. There, in front of two armies, Ehrendill of Sirion and Kay de Perdan faced each other like Erik and Atanamir had done a thousand times before. The days of training at Avamar's academy, the battles against monsters at Flismar and Dolmbar... the swords clashed in a brief display of strength and skill. A southern human against a northern dragon! His storm wolves sowing death in the ranks of poor guards. Professional soldiers against personal guards. Wolves against sheep. Blow after blow, the young Azure Dragon remained standing and victorious as the enemy fell wounded -- his first great battle, his first blood and his first victim. The battle fury settled in his spirit. The wave that swept the beach now calmed down in the low tide of a champion’s serenity. We lost the battle, but the Serpentis won the day!!!"

The Stormwalkers growled, howled and toasted in honor of their commander and captain. That was the song that would be repeated by the bards, the ones paid or just the wise enough to realize that a new employer had come to the north to feed them with the epics they always craved. That was the brave story of a young elf who had taken the vanguard in sacrifice, saved an ally and wounded the hero chosen to meet him in front of the armies. That was his victory. That was the Serpentis way to found victory in defeat and move on with a stronger legacy.
Now with the Skovgaard Family... and it's gone.
Serpentis again!