Archives: New Marmo Republic
Chapter 1: Forging an Alliance
Over the past few months, Thrash had achieved the support of the dark elves and barbarians of the Dark Forest, in addition to the soldiers and knights who had banded under his flag. There was a rumor of a mercenary company comprised of former Marmo soldiers and dark elves led by a man called ‘The Black Baron’. After a little reconnaissance, he learned that the Black Baron was a former knight of Marmo named Magnus Thane, whose family had been given dominion over a barony in Kanon. He was one of the abandoned after the fall of Marmo, who had spent the last five years creating a mercenary company of other soldiers in Kanon and on Marmo. Thrash needed all the support he could get, but he also learned that Thane had the same desires he did. It was possible that Thane could be a threat to his own bid for Marmo, but he was also at least ten years Thrash’s junior. Were he a threat to Thrash’s plans, he’d have to get him out of the picture, though it would be a shame to lose a fellow Marmo knight.
Thrash had sent a messenger to Thane’s camp, requesting that he meet in this point in the forest. It was a gully over a washed out stream bed, not far from the dark elven village, and Thrash’s camp, which laid on the land Beld had used before he took all of Marmo. Thrash took the high ground, standing on the high embankment, his back to the dark elven village. At his side was Myrela, an elven ranger who had helped him in the past, and Tonaro, younger brother to the barbarian chieftain. Dark elven rangers were hidden through the forest, ready to defend their ally if necessary.
Magnus Thane rode calmly into view, his gauntleted hands gripping Nightraid’s reins. The black clad warlord looked up and he saw what was probably Thrash. Behind him rode a few of his own Marmo knights. Not trusting him in the least, he had himself ironically placed some of his affiliated dark elves and rangers in the nearby forest on the other end. Slowly the riders came to a stop. Next to Thrash stood an elf and what seemed to be a barbarian; undoubtedly confidants of this Marmo Knight he had heard so much about.
As silence fell over the area, the baron rose up his gauntleted hand. “Salutations,” he stated. He then descended from his horse and glanced at the others, saying a word or two in a whisper. Reluctantly they stayed put. Alone the giant man approached Thrash, showing no sign of fear in his bearing. His face remained concealed by a full helmet, his cape moved on the wind. As he slowly moved towards his potential ally, he was well aware of the two companions of Thrash who kept their eyes fixed upon him.
He also had no doubt that Lord Thrash had an ace up his sleeve. Some troops concealed in the forest? With the dark elven village so near it was easy to make a favorable bet on the nature of that hidden aide. After all, if places had been switched he’d have done the same. Behind him, one could hear the warhorses make distinct noises. A light metallic sound was heard as one of the knights escorting him moved on his saddle. Face to face with Lord Thrash, Baron Thane came to a standstill. His hidden gaze moved from Thrash to his two exotic ‘comrades’ then back to him.
Thrash examined the younger knight lightly, observing his stance, though there was little else to see underneath the armor and helmet. The fact that he did not remove his helm to speak to Thrash bothered him. The Dark Flame of Kardis was on his saddle, but his longsword was within his reach at his waist.
“Magnus Thane, better known as the Black Baron,” Thrash stated. “Your father was one of the knights I served with under Beld. He was granted a barony in Kanon, which is where you gained your title. Ever since the fall of Marmo, you’ve been surviving as a mercenary, but rumor has it you have designs on Marmo itself.” Thrash then shifted his eyes to Thane’s neck as he spoke, “Why do you wish to bring back Marmo?”
Like Thrash, his dark elven aide-de-camp, Myrela, was not very comforted by the fact that Thane remained helmeted. The ranger was already considering how to help her lord if the other knight drew his sword. She could sense a dark aura radiating from Thane’s blade, but it wasn’t as obvious as the one that came from Thrash’s halberd. If Thane challenged him, Myrela could cross the distance to Thrash’s mount, release the halberd and bring it to him quick enough. In the meantime, she trusted Thrash and Tonaro to hold off the enemy if need be.
* * *
Snowe had shrouded himself in the darkness of the forest like his comrades, surrendering their identities to the cold black force of nothingness that enveloped them. Though Snowe had been in contact with humans since the War of Heroes, he still did not know much about them, though his general disliking for human beings could be equaled only by his ignorance of them. He knew very little about the one who now stood before the man Snowe had pledged his allegiance to, except that he had earned the reputation of being called the ‘Black Baron’. It seemed somewhat unsettling that the man did not remove his helmet before Thrash, but simply assumed it to be the pride and rudeness of human nature. He hardly breathed in the thicket of the trees, but his bright, cat like eyes were ever so observant, daring not to blink as he watched the transaction of words between the two humans intently. His body was cold and calm beneath his cloak, though his hands were at the ready to strike if the worst should happen.
* * *
If Magnus felt threatened, he didn’t show it, he merely gazed at Thrash and then replied, “My father and my family were cowardly butchered by the enemies of the Dark Emperor. The destiny of my bloodline once more denied,” he said dryly. “This world needs order and a strong powerful hand to guide it. Such a hand cannot be found among the hypocrites and utopic weaklings of Marmo’s enemies,” he said. “I took an oath to uphold the will and designs of my Emperor and Lord Ashram... and I will not waver from that,” he said dryly. “I have been preparing slowly for the future... but...” the helmeted head moved a bit, taking on a slightly crooked position. It almost insinuated a questioning look. “... I am not the only one who is trying to gathered the shattered pieces and rebuild...” he said. The giant warrior’s gaze moved past Lord Thrash and to the distant dark elven village before returning to him. As a strong wind passed, it played with his thick cape, adding a sense of drama to the scene.
As the Black Baron continued to speak without removing his helm, Myrela only became more irritated. “Young man, it should be considered polite to remove one’s face guard while speaking,” she finally spoke low enough for only the four gathered could hear, with a tone of chastisement. When one became as old as she had, they earned the right to call everyone young.
“It’s also impolite to have a large ambush-force stationed out of sight milady,” he said turning his attention to Myrela. “This is in any case, ‘not’ the Royal Court,” he stated. “And I have no reasons for excessive trust,” he added.
“We must be certain our interests are protected,” Myrela replied. “My lord has done you the courtesy of showing you his face, we only ask that you do the same.” The dark elf was becoming frustrated that he wouldn’t agree to this small measure of propriety. It didn’t bode well with her.
“Tell me milady do you always speak for your Lord?” he said coolly. “But very well... I shall indulge you... this once. But I only reveal my face because I so wish it...” he stated. Slowly he unbuckled his helmet and then slid of the intimidating black construct. It revealed a firm, blocked face, far from ugly but certainly not stunning in beauty; it was masculine, had a youthful edge remaining and a sharp gaze. Thane’s pale skin contrasted sharply with his raven black hair.
“I speak for myself and the dark elven people, young man,” Myrela replied, her silver brow raised over a stern golden eye. “Thank you for your indulgence.”
Magnus suddenly grinned at that. “Hmm... I like you...” he said suddenly, then chuckled “You have backbone...” The smile faded immediately and his gaze turned back to Lord Thrash.
Thrash chuckled softly at the exchange, amused by Thane’s comment. Of course Myrela had backbone, she was a dark elf. Thrash didn’t know how old she was, but he assumed she was several hundred years. He was grateful that she had convinced Magnus to reveal his face, that made negotiations that much easier, and it added a level of trust—however slight it might be.
“Then we have the same goals,” Thrash replied. He had fears that this knight may seek to replace him though. “I have already forged alliances with the dark elves and the barbarians, as well as a number of soldiers who were left behind. Given we both wish to see Marmo returned to the hands of it’s natives, I would like to propose that you join under my flag. In return, when we wrest Marmo from Flaim’s grip, you can claim lordship over Salbad.”
“I have rallied many mercenaries and warriors to my banner, including Dark Elves,” he said. “My ‘mother’s’ influence lingers after all,” he said, after which glanced at the dark elf at Thrash’s side with an unusual smile. “Your offer is intriguing,” he continued. “But I will not blindly commit myself,” he said. “What makes you think that you are worthy of my fealty?” Magnus asked calmly. “What makes you a worthy heir to the throne of Marmo?”
“Me worthy of you? I don’t have time this! I have a nation to rebuild,” Thrash said with disdain in his voice. “Your lack of respect sickens me. For your information, I am no king nor do I wish to become one. I’d think long and hard about your oath to my Emperor Beld before your ‘mother’s influence’ wears thin.”
Myrela sneered at the arrogance of the younger knight, and his mention of ‘worthiness’. Thrash was his superior in rank, at least, if the Marmo nation still existed, which they both desired to bring back. His support of dark elves was little more than a rabble of adventurous youths, and he spoke like it meant something. Thrash had the alliance of the entire dark elven nation, and with that, their command of the monsters of the Dark Forest. “I think you should return to your band of misfits before you find yourself impaled,” the dark elf ranger growled.
* * *
Snowe’s grip on the handle of his sword tightened as the tension of the exchange progressed. This could get ugly. He remained crouched in the wild brush though, poised to strike at any moment. It seemed apparent at this point that there was no possible way this engagement could end well. It’s only a matter of time before these humans loose all disposition and turn on one another.
Then again, what could you expect? When it came to humans, it seemed that both power and humbleness could never be in harmony with one another. Both were too prideful to back down and be the lesser man. This must be the divide. Could this start a different kind of civil war within Marmo’s borders? Were the people of Flaim their only concern, or have they yet another battle to wage against one another? It seemed only time could tell.
Slowly. Slowly. He concentrated on his breathing, trying to keep his body from tensing up, as a warrior could not rely on the natural instincts of their body if his muscles are too tense to obey commands. But he never broke his gaze.
* * *
Thane’s expression became icier than ever. “A threat? And an insult... I see...” he stated dryly “I think I shall retire then,” he stated. He turned around and began to walk away. “It was a pleasure Lord Thrash...”. While doing so, he put on his eerie black helmet and glanced back. “One thing though... if I lead a band of misfits... What are you for needing our aid in an alliance?” he said. The giant then mounted his horse and turned it around. The black knights with him turning to follow him.
“Oh and in case you plan to back stab me on the way out... I am not defenseless... I’ll make sure to thoroughly bloody your forces... And you’ll need every single one of those for your schemes...” he said.
Tonaro, the barbarian and Thrash’s side, glanced in Myrela’s direction with a raised eyebrow. The dark elf woman had a temper, for all her years and wisdom, and the baron was overly proud; as was Thrash, but from the way Thane carried himself, Tonaro could tell that the younger knight was the prouder of the two; perhaps as a result of his breeding. Thrash had grown up in the streets, while Thane had spent most of his years as a noble.
“He is right, we need his men,” Tonaro spoke up, his voice just as deep as one would expect from the broad shouldered barbarian. It resonated through the gully, so that even the departing Thane could hear. “We cannot risk infighting amongst our own people for the sake of pride. Someone must bend.”
Myrela clicked her tongue and tossed her silvery head aside. She too was guilty of pride, but she held her tongue now, silenced by reason.
Magnus didn’t seem to respond, but he did seem to slow down suddenly as if giving an opening to be addressed. The younger noble had to agree but he was not one to let his loyal followers be insulted nor an unknown snap at him when he wanted to know more on what motivated him. As far as he was concerned he might have put things roughly but his concerns were more then reasonable.
If there was a picture for ‘nondescript’, Seygrim was it. With short, dark hair, typical build for his race, and pretty average face, there was nothing out of the ordinary about him. That was, until you noticed the constant smile on his face, and the deep black robes that he wore, along with the gnarled staff. It was one of the reasons he had managed to blend in when Marmo became occupied. His friendly face belied the fact that he was a dark wizard, and although not nearly as skilled as someone like Wagnard, he knew enough dark spells to cause a grown man to become a mass of nerves, susceptible to every minute agony he decided to give them. His smiling face and squinting eyes, however, changed as Thane came back with his helm on. His eyes became opened, and a frown crossed his face. “Oh dear, that simply will not do.”
Moving away from the small, assembled forces and to Thane, he was tempted to try a spell that would hasten Thane back to the bargaining table but he would try reasoning first. “Oh, now now, we can’t turn back just yet.” His face had returned to its usual smile. Reasoning with what he was really feeling didn’t usually work. “We stand little chance of success without their assistance, my lord. And they the same, so lets go back and further discuss this.”
“I am well aware of that my friend,” Thane said softly. “But the same goes for them,” he said. “And I do not plan to just kneel and play his pet. I’m upping the ante as I need a bit more assurances... and the certainty that Thrash can control himself... and his ‘retainers’,” he said. “No use swearing myself to his cause if he doesn’t live up to my ideals,” he said in a whisper.
The Baron valued Seygrim for his advice, but he never seemed to take big risks. But then, that was what made him so useful. His advice was sound and well thought, and the caster was a useful spell wielder on top. He glanced back to Thrash. “Besides,” he glanced at Seygrim “If they believe we are just a rabble of under performing thugs,” he said, amused. “Then surely there was no point to coming here,” he said the last bit a bit louder.
He hoped Seygrim would understand what he was doing. It was not like Magnus was an idiot or a raging psychopath. If Lord Thrash wanted his service and loyalty he had better be as great and competent as he claimed, and offer him what he was truly worth. He was a knight of Marmo, a mercenary warlord and Baron of Khone, not some common thug swayed by a purse of gold and pretty words. Nor snapped in line by some vicious verbal attacks by an overly feisty dark elf, even if he liked her guts. A powerful gust of wind played with the giant warrior’s black cape and his gauntleted hands held the reigns of his steed tightly.
“As you wish, my lord.” Seygrim’s usual smile was on his face. He could see the logic in such a move. But then again, sometimes it was better to play the servant rather than be the master. After all, if you failed, the head was generally cut off; if you played the body, there was always the chance you could convince someone that you were simply following orders, or that you were threatened. In the end, Seygrim never really cared about worthiness; the ends justified the means, and whether he served a knight, or a vicious monster were just two sides of the same coin. “We might as well leave then. Even if it is just for effect, they’ll have to make a choice very quickly now.”
Though Thane’s arrogant manner annoyed Thrash to no end, Tonaro was right; he needed every man he could get on his side. Gritting his teeth to swallow his pride, Thrash spoke up. “I apologize for my dark elven associate’s words.” As he spoke, he gave Myrela a mildly chastising glare for causing this rift in the negotiations, though honestly, he was just as frustrated as her.
“I am certain that your men are of fine caliber,” the Marmo knight continued. “We do not have the time to argue over ‘worthiness’, however. We both desire the same thing; taking Marmo back from Flaim. All I ask that we help each other achieve this goal, and when our task is finished, then we can decide who is the better man to lead the people of this land.”
Thane stopped and glanced back, turning his horse slowly. “You misunderstand, Lord Thrash, which is why you grew angry. I do not seek compliments or bickering over rank. I do seek purpose,” he said. “It’s not a matter of whether I am worthy of leading. I would gladly step aside...” his horse turned fluidly, a testimony to its training, or its masters control. “...to give leadership to a worthy overlord. My question was, why you? Why do you believe you are the rightful heir and the one who should rule?” he asked. “What drives you to believe you will be able to succeed?”
Thrash bit back his frustration this time. “Again, you assume I want to rule Marmo,” he replied. “I am leading this battle for the sake of my people—our people—who were left behind to the persecution of our enemies, with no place to call home. I have the means with which to give our people back their homeland, and that is what I intend to do. What I ask of you is not to swear your fealty to me as your lord, but to join the cause of our people. When this war is over, then we can decide who is ‘worthy’ of the throne.”
Magnus gazed at Thrash a moment. “Very well. I shall give you a chance,” he said. “If you prove worthy, you will lead Marmo and our people,” he said. “Let us hope you do not disappoint because the stakes are high. Our people cannot afford another defeat,” he said coolly.
“My, my. At least we could resolve this rather quickly,” the dark wizard chuckled, although it was a morbid one at that. Even united, the Flaim army was a formidable one, and there was always the possibility that the other nations of Lodoss would quickly act if Marmo seemed to be getting its autonomy back. The fear of the dark was always strongest after one had been close to it, even if darkness held no secrets from him. One of his eyes opened a little wider. “I hope we all realize this path is one way. Should we fail, it would undoubtedly mean all our deaths. We can’t play at ‘we were simply following orders’ this time.” Both of his eyes came open, meaning he was deadly serious. If they failed, some would die in battle, but a great many would be killed as traitors, and while Thrash may have had the best interests in mind, the cost of failure would also include even further hatred of the Marmo people. “Hmm... maybe I’m being a bit too morbid? This should be a time time to celebrate. After all, its not every day you have a chance to retake your homeland.”
“I am fully aware of the repercussions of failure,” Thrash replied to the mage dryly. Though pleased that Thane had agreed to take the step towards alliance, Thrash was not entirely impressed with the younger knight’s attitude. What could one expect from a noble though? Despite his pride, Thane did have some accomplishments under his belt. “Join me in the dark elven village,” Thrash spoke, his voice reverberating in the gully so all of Thane’s men could hear. “We have much to discuss.” With that, the knight turned with a swirl of his dark cloak and went to mount his warhorse.
Myrela and Tonaro turned to follow Thrash, though they had no horses. The barbarian and dark elf had no need for one in their forest. The other rangers would leave after Thane and his men vacated the area so their numbers and identities would not be known. Thane knew that they were there, but he couldn’t have known how many there were.
Thane likewise, was not convinced with Thrash, who in turn seemed a typical ambitious warlord and little more. But the mage had advised him to take the chance, and he had. “Very well,” he stated dryly. He returned to his men, who nodded. The armies of both sides would probably remain in hiding for now. Baron Magnus Thane turned around again and followed Lord Thrash towards the village.
