Imperia - Voices of a Battle

Imperia. Imperia. Imperia. The voices would not stop calling its name. Not until our job was done. Not until it was finished.

I felt myself lifting. This was my purpose. Yes, my one and only purpose. The clouds obscured my vision. A wave of my hand and they were no more. A pathetic task.

The army was invisible. I made sure to that. They never saw them until they were right on top of them.

The Constructs went first. Only two of them. They brought the walls down, thick as they were. The Abesquilian Guardians helped, spitting their juices on the men. Pathetic. I felt their souls rising out of their frail bodies as they perished. So many.

But then I felt the mages. Thousands of them, their souls radiating with energy. The weak kind. The insects had more.

I saw the Reavers pouring in, hundreds against thousands. That did not hinder them.

Arrows and swords battered against the shields. So many to maintain. Difficult, but not impossible. Nothing was impossible. The mages were dying now. The Darkwalkers had stepped out of the shadows.

A new one had joined the battle. Hidden until now. Powerful. I knew what he was. An opportunity. I sent the Signal. The sleepers awoke. The palace doors opened wide, letting the Reavers in. The dying had already commenced. It all fell into place.

He was dead now. By Vindicator hand. I plucked his soul out of the air as it rose toward me, tasting it. Into my heart it went, with all the others. All the voices to keep me company as I killed their brothers.

Boats were leaving. The guards had formed a wall of their own bodies. Some still alive. Surprising. I had to destroy them. Had to find a way...

I stirred the waters. I broke the ships. Many were still fleeing. I had to try harder. My energy was waning. Too much to do. Too much for me to bear.

"Use us," they said. I didn't want to use the harvest. But I had no choice. The souls of the mages would be first. Their energy was significant. I destroyed docks. I sealed off streets. I did what I could to halt the evacuation. The army was advancing, wading through the blood and fire and dead. Outnumbered hundreds to one, and still winning. To be expected.

The insects were helping me now. Raising the waters of the ocean. Bringing them down against the fractured city. Destroying what remained as we withdrew. Many managed to escape. Unacceptable. Absolutely unacceptable. The Reavers were a mistake. No tactics, no discipline. Animals. I couldn't help but crush the life out of the ones that survived. I laughed at the way their skin burst open like a fruit. Their souls were strong.

The city was in flames. Buildings collapsed. Plagues of every kind imaginable wafting through the air. I guarded the insects against their deadly fumes. Many had died. But this was necessary. The survivors pulled away now, the sword removed from the mortal wound in Talibar's heart.

Imperia was no more.



[OOC]: Imperia, the capital of Talibar and the largest city, was attacked.

It lost.

The Emperor has been slain, and the Legion is being divided and conquered. Though Imperia was evacuated and many survived, many have also been killed. The city of Imperia was ransacked and then razed. Information will trickle into Surna as events develop, but that's the gist of things. The RP is going to be changed, at least for a while. The reason this story is called "Voices of a Battle" is because it will be told from other points of view, as well.

As told by Rector Lind Grenval of the Crepidoinis, Imperia Garrison.

Start of the first day, 3:30am: They seemed to emerge from the night, several hundred meters away from the walls, two at first...then twenty...hundred and then beyond count.

The quiet night air exploded as the city was filled with the thunderous roar of cannons, their rounds cutting swaths through the endless swarms of the foe, every now and again a round finding it's mark on one of the larger monstrosities, mangling them as shard of bone and lumps of flesh arched skyward.

First day, 3:43am. I was at the first breach, one of the metal monsters smashed through the ten foot wall in little under three minutes; but we were ready for it. Our mages unleashed a strike of lightning with the power of four hundred souls combined. The beast erupted as it was slain, taking the lives of many of our own men, the wall around it crumbling to dust.

10:34am: Something just thundered down onto the palace, we aren't sure why, but reports have it stated that it was directed at the Emperor, though his arch-mages were able to dissipate the majority of the damage.

1:04pm: We've slowly been falling back down the streets giving the people time to evacuate. My cohort and several others, totaling about three hundred-twenty of the Emperor's finest forces them to exchange hundreds of lives for every foot they gain; every now and again one of the monsters comes at us, tearing and shredding through it's own comrades only to fall soon after reaching us. We do not waver, we stand firm.

8:35pm: Night as fallen, though there is little rest. The only respite we get is when we cycle from the front lines to the back, though there is no real rest before it's into the fray once again. We've only lost about fourty of our men as it is, mostly to the larger monsters. How many of them have we killed? It matters not, for their ranks are endless. One might estimate up to ten thousand along with a dozen of the larger ones, however. I grow tired.

2:20am, day two: Night drags on, we were able to gain a bit of time by collapsing several houses, though it took perhaps little more than fifteen minutes for the countless number of insects to tear through the debris. Word has it that most of the mages are dead, though most of ours survive as of yet, the occasional robed figure is slain attempting to fell them.

6:24am: We near the waterfront district, our casualties reach up to about a hundred whereas the enemy have easily lost tens of thousands by our hands alone. We hear the evacuation has be stalled due to magical interference, though our remaining mages, now under the protection of the Vitamantia keep the worst of it away and new boats and rafts have been constructed from dismembered buildings in order to allow the evacuation to resume.

9:15am: More and more we notice huge miasmas of fumes gathering above the city, though we are glad the Emperor's finest were provided with masks immediately after the Surna Plague. Speaking of which, I feel sorry for my brothers who remain there, unable to join us in this, the most vicious and savage fighting we have been a part of in many years. I wish to survive to see Luthar Gorwein and tell him my new kill count, which has risen by over two-hundred and fifty bugs thus far.

12:35pm: We have reached the port. We are the very last to be evacuated aboard a crudely repaired sloop. Our battle fared well, only one hundred and twenty of our original three hundred and twenty. As we pull away from the city we are many things...saddened...humiliated and yet...we are hopeful and excited...for we know we will return soon to fight once again for the glory of the Empire. Now though, I must sleep, for I have been fighting for days without pause. I pray for all those lost these past days.

Estimated losses: 7000 Crepidoinis, 490 dead.....16 000 Legionairs, 8000 dead.....20 000 guardsmen, 14 000 dead.... Mages, military and non 11 000, 8500 dead....Militia troops 340 000, total dead 140 000 dead....Civilians estimated 2 000 000, total dead, 200 000....

Even though everything was a blur as I rode to Imperia, I could see that the attack was just beginning. The anticipation and suspense was killing me. My old mentor believe that the ends justify the means, no matter how horrible. He told me that I was lucky to not have to ever been placed in a situation where I must decide whether the ends justify the means. That was four years ago, and I've faced plenty of situations like that now. Some luck.

I reached the front gates, and to my luck, some people were already crowding to exit the city. The confusion was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. Adjusting my hood and veil as I passed through the panicking crowd and into Imperia, I concentrated, touching Surge with my mind, ensuring my magical presence was hidden. I knew The Sacking of Imperia was going to have astonishingly powerful combatants, ones who made the laws of Aeria. I met beings with such power at their disposal before, and I knew you don't survive meeting them by running at a group of them, swinging a sword.

I spent most of the day, hiding in a tower on the far side of the assault. It's been years since I tried sneaking in the palace, and I kn-

Ah-hah. The attackers are in the district, and the real skirmish has begun. Quickly I rushed down the tower and began navigating my way through the city as fast as Surge would allow me. I wish I told my friends of Surna that I loved to avoid fights. The mere thought that my potential opponent and myself will both remain unharmed fills me with joy. With the Emperor, that was not the case.

The palace. I can feel and hear the assaulting army behind me, also aiming to enter. I wasted no time. Drawing the Demon Hunter's War blades, Kains gift to me, I rushed through the construct. Nothing relieved me more than the fact that the palace guards were too busy evacuating or fighting the assaulting force to fight me.

Ah, the throne rooms gates. I skidded to a stop. Behind these doors, I could hear a single body guard, alongside the Emperor, planning an escape. I had mixed feelings. The Imperial Council was already retreating, and the Emperor was reluctant to leave his beloved city. This is good. Unfortunately, this bodyguard... he is going to be one of the most powerful and challenging opponents I have ever faced. The Emperor's voice enraged me. One of the most influential people on the face of Aeria, was a homicidal anti-hero. He had to pay for the Vindicators he had executed... men and women who wanted to help Talibar in their own way. I rarely believe that the ends justify the means, but this was a man too proud, too pig-headed, too evil to live.

Concentrating on Surge again, I removed my magical disguise, and my presence and connection to Surge was visible, to all those sensitive to magic. I had to gain the upperhand, and I knew that the assaulting force had a magi of immense power. I could feel that he sensed me, that he now launched a projectile of magic and destruction in my wake. Bringing the Warblades up to protect myself and leaping back, the blast of energy hit and shook the palace. The gates to the throne room were ripped open, and before me, momentarily stunned but alive, was the Emperor, and my adversary.

It seems that the other bodyguards are preoccupied with the invading force. That means that I have absolutely no time to waste.

The bodyguard and I lunged at each other. The man moved fast... faster than any normal human could even follow with their eyes. Such is not the case. My two war blades against his weapon, an esoteric combination of a scythe and a spear. The guard was gaining the advantage, and fast, time for a change of strategy. Hopping back I freed my left hand combining the war blades into a 6 foot tall crescent sword in my right hand, and brought it far from my left hand, so that I may attempt to best the guard with magic. The guard caught on, and stepped back, also preparing a spell. Time to test this so called 'luck' that my mentor saw in me. Connecting with Surge, I summoned immense power, coursing it through my hand.

The power became an invisible blast of force, releasing it at the guard, as he followed suit and fired a similar power at me. For a moment, we were at a stand-still. Then, both of us staggered back, the blasts radiating with force between us, before dissipating.

At the moment, I could feel his command of magic, alongside melee prowess, was also greater than mine. I could feel a portion of my power, my command of fire magic, dwarfed in power greatly and sealed away in myself by a curse. This secretly made me happy. No one deserves to be burnt alive, anyways.

The guard recovered first. In the blink of an eye, he was at me, swinging down, and I had no time to parry properly. The giant war blade vibrated violently from the blow, and fell from my hand, and a kick was delivered to my chest knocking me back.

There was no time to embrace the pain, no time to waste. The assaulting faction was getting closer, and I had little time to exact my revenge. Drawing my father's sword, a blade of black silver, I clashed again at the bodyguard, who was upon me, faster than sound. I backed up to the wall in the fencing, and braced a foot upon it. Kicking off, I leaped over my foe's head and spun, swinging my father's sword, as it generated speed with every revolution of my spin. There it was. The luck. My father's heirloom sword was able to gain extra momentum as it was swung, and such a feat saved my life at this moment. The bodyguard's defense was breached. as I landed, I stood back and saw my opponent in detail for the first time. Wearing mere robes, it was no wonder the guard could move so fast, as he had no encumbrance, but it came with a setback.

The bodyguard's chest was sliced open from my final attack, and I could feel the man dying, but this figure was still standing tall and proud. A feat I had come to respect. My adversary died standing, and even now as I could feel his soul depart his body, the corpse stood tall, commanding, proud and strong. At that moment, I noticed the blows he struck on me. All of them grazes and none deep, but I was riddled in them. Some pierced my cloak, and the adamantine under it, resulting in wounds that bled. However, I had no time for admiration.

I turned, and approached the Emperor. He stood proud, yet quivered with fear and hate. As I approached, I hesitated. He no doubt wished to live, and above that, he was unarmed. He spoke;

"I was right about you, Shire. You're nothing but a self-employed mercenary, out for personal gain. That is why your kind had to die."

I didn't care to debate with him, but his words were like red hot nails, scratching at my heart.

"You can't kill me, can you. You're weak, like your wife."

His words hurt. I was shaking with rage, now. My being was at conflict. I wanted to spare him at that moment, to show mercy and compassion to a helpless victim, but at the same time, by body was growing cold, with a festering, unimaginable hate for the little man.

"The satisfaction was palpable. Ordering all your companions' death. I bet your wife even begged for her life."

At that moment, I lost control. In an unintelligible exclamation of rage, I cried out, and ended his life. I drove the sword through his chest. As I brought the sword back and sheathed it, he fell limp in his throne before sliding off onto the cold ground. The anger was horrifying, like a darker side of me that I've always ignored until now, brought to the surface by loss, fear, sorrow and rage. This was not the Vindicator's way.

Footsteps. Soldiers were coming. Whether they were Imperial or not, I did not care to find out. I saw behind the Emperor's throne a stained glass window-wall that overlooked the bay. wasting no more time, I sprinted to the window, once again masking my magical presence, and jumped through, plunging into the bay. I began to swim with immense speed away from the palace, but I could feel a presence following me. Something different to the Imperials, something of considerable intelligence and formidable power.

My old mentor believe that the ends justify the means, no matter how horrible. He told me that I was lucky to not have to ever been placed in a situation where I must decide whether the ends justify the means. Today I learned that the ends will not justify the means until your enemy is foolish enough to force you into deciding.