Archives: New Marmo Republic
Chapter 2: The Dark Elf Village
Thrash led the way back to the dark elven village atop his warhorse, Tonaro and Myrela following along at his side. The village was surrounded by high ramparts and a gate, as even the dark elves needed protection from the Dark Forest. The gates were high enough to hold back the ogres, though they remained open much of the time. Thrash rode through under the watchful eye of the dark elven rangers in the parapets, then into the heart of the village, but kept going. The dark elves in the village gave the group a passing glance, but little more.
The black knight led Thane and his men through the village to the other side, when they finally approached a camp outside of the main village. Tents for the Marmo soldiers that had already come to join Thrash surrounded a larger pavilion in the center of the small human camp. Here, Thrash dismounted and let a human boy, a child born to a female knight who was learning to be a knight as well, take the reins of his steed to be unsaddled and tended to. Before he abandoned his mount though, Thrash took the halberd off the saddle and slung it across his shoulders.
“Go ahead and let your men mingle in the camp, perhaps they’ll find some old friends,” Thrash said with a small grin. “Join me in the ‘war room’ though, if you will.” The Marmo knight then began to head toward the larger pavilion, Tonaro and Myrela still shadowing him.
Magnus glanced back at his men, who seemed far from eager to leave. Clearly, distrust remained at an all time high, but the Baron knew better than to show weakness in the lion’s den. He casually motioned with a gauntleted hand that they could move out.
Thane descended from his horse and one of the men took the reigns of Nightraid. Then the Black Baron followed Lord Thrash and his loyal retainers towards the war room. The tall man took in the layout of the area, memorizing it in case the situation demanded him to know such things.
Inside the tent, it was what one would expect of a general’s tent. Spartan and utilitarian, free of any decorations. In the center of the room created was a broad table, and upon it, a map of Lodoss. Thrash headed to one of the ends of the table, set his halberd in the corner next to him, then sat down. “Have a seat,” he offered Thane.
Thane glanced back at the chair, but it didn’t look all that suitable for a man of his stature—especially due to the thick armor he wore—so he wisely opted for a stool. He sat down, one gauntleted hand on his right knee, the other casually resting on the nob of his large, magical bastard sword. Despite the helmet, the position of his head indicated that he was most likely already taking in the map.
Myrela and Tonaro took seats near Thrash, on opposite sides of the table. Momentarily, they were joined by three more dark elves. One, an ancient looking woman who was nearing the end of her life, a male carrying himself with a noble stature who also appeared to be showing signs of age on his face, and the final one, a beautiful, youthful woman with dark chocolate colored skin and blue eyes. The elder woman shuffled over to the nearest seat, putting her weight on a cane, but the male gazed up and down the new knight.
“I take it this is the man you set out to find?” the male dark elf spoke to Thrash.
Thrash nodded to the dark elven elder. “This is Magnus Thane,” Thrash started. “Excuse me, Baron Magnus Thane,” he corrected himself, remembering that Magnus held his title dearly, then continued to introduce the new elves. “This is Elder Marela, Elder Vadiri, and his daughter, Nehen,” he explained to Thane.
Magnus nodded at them ever so lightly. He was not that talkative overall, and hadn’t been for years. He took them all in for a short moment. Obviously they were respected by his new lord, so for now, he would be too. After all, it was important to have the aid of the dark elves. He wondered whether any of them had known his dark elven ‘mother’, but then cast the thought aside. The past was the past and it hardly mattered for now, and if they didn’t know he had experience in dealing with their people, all the better.
His ominous form’s statuesque immobility fractured for a moment by the slight movement. “A pleasure...” he said with his low voice. His gaze then turned back to the map. It depicted some troop emplacements and he figured key positions according to Thrash. His own home base was indicated with a red flag. He also noticed that Trash had taken into account the location of a few lesser leaders that stalked the land. From experience he knew that they would be problematic. To carve out his own home base he had been forced to weed out quite a few local ‘leaders’, though Thane found them in truth little more than misguided bandit leaders. Nonetheless given the low demography it would be useful to rally as many lingering war bands as possible. On the other hand, if his new ‘master’ proved a successful and inspiring man, Magnus was confident a lot of them would instinctively rally under their banner. In Marmo success and power were what mattered...
* * *
Snowe had tracked Lord Thrash and the mysterious stranger through the darkness and back to the dark elf village with his comrades. He didn’t suspect that the strange new visitor would try anything in dark elf territory with nowhere to run, but just to be cautious, Snowe and a few of his fellow rangers slunk into the village and tracked the visitors at a distance. Several had made a point to keep tabs on Thane’s men, while Snowe decided to keep close to the war room, encase trouble should erupt.
He had watched the dark elven elders enter the war room, along with Nehen and several others under Thrash’s flag. Certainly they could defend themselves, but Snowe couldn’t help but be distrusting, and so, he patiently waited in the distant darkness, barely close enough to hear the exchange of words, but near enough to make a dash toward the room if necessary. He knew it was too early in the game to let his guard down as he carefully listened in silence, hardly daring to breathe.
* * *
Vadiri observed Thane for a moment, weighing his worth in his mind, then pulled an elegant glass bottle from within his coat. “Perhaps we can discuss this alliance over a bottle of elven wine?” the elder suggested. At that, his daughter went to a cupboard in the tent and gathered up enough goblets for those gathered.
Without waiting for a response, Nehen set out the goblets and took the bottle from her father to begin pouring wine for all gathered. Vadiri stepped around the table, behind Thrash, then took a seat across from Marela.
“I take it you are at least considering an alliance,” Marela spoke to Thane. Her voice had lost the musical intonation that elves generally had, and it reflected her advanced age as well. “I have high confidence in this young man. I was never very interested in the dealings of humans, though it was your Emperor Beld who enchanted my son, Lusev, when he was the leader of our people. He rallied the dark elves to join the war of the humans, though many of us elders disapproved. Ah, but Lusev had such charisma over the younger ones.” For a moment, the old dark elf’s voice held reverence for her son. “A shame that he became corrupted by them,” and her tone became bitter. As Nehen offered her wine, Marela refused. “Beld had his own charisma, but yet, that cursed sword of his clouded his mind. What he did for your people was impressive, but it was still nothing that truly concerned us. So long as we have our forest, and you humans stay out when you’re not welcome, we are content. Yet why do support this young man and let him camp so near our village? Despite our personal desires for solitude, many of our youths do not feel the same, and we must concern ourselves for their well-being. The Flaim have taken any opportunity to punish dark elves who leave the forest, even for minor infractions. While they claim to tolerate our people, they will not flinch at the chance to punish them more harshly than they do their own. They are encroaching into our territory to take our resources.
“Three months ago, five dark elven youths were slaughtered by Flaim knights. They claimed that they were breaking the law, but our evidence points to an exaggeration of the crimes. This is only the most recent of infractions, and I cannot imagine it will be the last. Hatred for our people runs deep in the veins of those from Lodoss. We are not as populous as the humans, or the goblins, and the loss of even one child is taken hard by the clan. It is only a matter of time before another event turns the dark elves and Flaim against each other.
“While Beld and Ashram ruled, our people were allowed to pass freely amongst them. However, if this land were taken back by people who respect us, we will both be able to coexist in peace. We have seen Thrash’s plans, and we see great potential in him. This is why we support him.” Finally, Marela finished. The elder felt it was important for anyone rallying to Thrash’s banner to understand why the dark elves supported him. However, the younger elves had their own reasons. The eldest elders, such as Vadiri and Marela, cared little about revenge against light elves, and invading Lodoss again to exact that revenge. There were some who still had war on their minds, by Marela had seen enough of that. In her advanced years, she desired peace most of all.
Thane slowly removed his helmet and put it down, then followed the interaction coolly and took the goblet, sipping from the wine. It was indeed a very good one. Magnus finally spoke, and despite his youth his voice was heavy. It reminded people who had met Maximillian Thane of him. “My mother was a dark elf,” he said. “And some dark elves have allied with me as you undoubtedly are aware,” he said. “During the war I fought ‘with’ dark elves...” he said, glancing at the dark elves present. “I think it is clear then that it is not an element that will be a problem milady,” he said respectfully to Marela. “As far as I’m concerned, dark elves are as much citizens of Marmo as people like me,” he said. “I only have qualms with the enemies of Marmo.”
As Marela spoke of the troubles plaguing their youths, Nehen had become obviously concerned. Her own son had left home some time ago, and she had yet to hear word of him. She only hoped the women she chose to protect him were doing their jobs. When Thane spoke, Nehen’s attention drifted back to the knight. The beautiful younger dark elf examined him closely, trying to find a trace of elven features. “Your mother? You do not look like a half-elf,” she said.
Thane’s piercing gaze moved to Nehen. “I am not a half-elf,” he noted coolly. “My birth mother died shortly after my birth,” he said. “It was my father’s... lover that raised me,” he stated. “As far as I’m concerned she’s my mother in all meanings of the word that matter,” he said, returning the beauty’s inquisitive gaze. His face was pale and a bit blocked, not un-handsome, but not stunning. It still had a youthful edge yet at the same time had a stern edge usually found in far older men.
Nehen’s blue eyes lit up as she realized the actual connection. “Oh, I see,” she replied simply.
As Myrela sat by silently, she nodded. At least that explained the mother he kept talking about. “This ‘mother’ of yours seems to have had quite an impact on your life. I suppose she may have taught you quite a bit about her own people?”
Magnus’s gaze moved towards Myrela. “Like my father, she taught me what I needed to know to serve Marmo and to survive,” he said. “But yes... she also taught me less crucial matters such as your language and some of your rituals.” He wasn’t too eager to discuss these things with strangers, because that’s what these dark elves were for now; strangers. He hated sharing too much information too soon and thus, he didn’t elaborate further.
Thrash allowed the conversation with the dark elves to continue for awhile as he enjoyed the wine. He took the time to gauge Thane’s responses and get a better feel for the man in more relaxed surroundings. He thought he might have caught a hint of attraction to Nehen in Thane’s eyes, but that wasn’t too surprising. The dark elven woman was an exceptional beauty, even among her kind. Otherwise, the man seemed rather reserved, only answering the questions as directly as possible; it was understandable though.
Clearing his throat, Thrash brought the attention back to him. “Back to the subject at hand...” he announced. “We must decide whether or not Thane is willing to join us.” The black knight stood to lean over the map of Lodoss laid out before him. He was hesitant to reveal his plans to a man who had yet to commit to his cause, and who could potentially become an enemy, but if worst came to worst, Thrash still had the alliance of the dark elves and barbarians while Thane only had his band of mercenaries. “To take back Marmo, we must focus elsewhere first. We still do not have the numbers of the Flaim army, and though we do have a home field advantage, that won’t be enough to take back the island. We must divide and conquer,” Thrash explained. Pointing toward the Storm and Fire Desert in Flaim, he continued. “Though the Wind and Fire tribes may be at peace, there is still a rift between them to be exploited. If we can successfully turn the tribes against each other and begin a new war, this could serve to distract Kashue while we steal Marmo out from under his feet.” For emphasis, Thrash snatched the air in front of him in his fist.
Magnus nodded. “Perhaps, but it will require great subtlety and caution,” he said calmly, seemingly unafraid even though he was surrounded by potential and potent killers. He took a look at the map. “What ‘funding’ do you have? I am able to add a substantial amount of plunder to the war effort,” he said, “but these things cost money.” He looked at Thrash. “And one of the best ways to divide people is to bribe, to arm, and to misguide,” he said, then added, “Also... there are still untapped resources in Marmo... men and women who would flock to your banner if you could find a way to truly ‘stand out’. A small, but clear achievement can do that. Something appropriate to show you have military muscle, strength and insight.” The Black Baron moved his gaze over the map. “Here...” he said, pointing to an unimportant region within the lands that had once been part of the Marmo Kingdom. “The three tribes here have defied all others, yet still managed to push them back. They frequently raid in all directions. Their self proclaimed leaders, the Triumvirate, are infamous and already stories circulate that they are unstoppable. If you were to defeat them, my lord—impressively defeat them—your enemies and potential allies would all stop to listen,” Magnus said, calm as ever.
Thrash furrowed his brows at Thane’s suggestion. He knew of the raiders, and he didn’t doubt his ability to defeat them, what he did doubt was the benefit of drawing attention. While it could bring him fresh forces, it could also catch the attention of the duke. He was not prepared to bring his presence to light to the Flaim nation. “Funding... I have been building wealth over the years from my own days as a mercenary, and combined plunder from those who have joined me. Luckily, living amongst dark elves doesn’t cost much,” Thrash replied as he pondered on the suggestion of attacking the Triumvirate.
“They are one of the bandit tribes I’ve been planning to approach,” he continued. “However, I never expected their leaders—or any leaders—to readily unite behind me. Most of the bandit leaders have their own agendas. I fully expect a fight, but I’d rather not waste any potential new recruits by making an all-out attack. I will, however, make the offer, and we will see which direction the Triumvirate want to go.”
“Very well, though you’ll find them highly reluctant to even listen to you,” Magnus said. “They believe their own legend a bit too much.” He sipped from his drink and then added, “I can know... I approached them myself not too long ago.”
“I expect as much,” Thrash replied. “Tomorrow, we will approach them. Until then, feel free to enjoy the hospitality of our dark elven hosts, or you may return to your own camp.”
While the dark wizard put up a front of being in great spirits, he was, as always, using things to his advantage. He hadn’t survived Marmo’s occupation, joined up in a young, idealistic Marmo knight’s army, and put his vote to an alliance just to be ousted now. Everything done would be done out of survival, and all to fulfill final plans. And to gain any within a new Marmo court, certain obstacles would have to be removed.
During the conversation, Seygrim paid careful attention. The old dark elf—although that was an oxymoronic statement, as she didn’t appear as old as she truly was—was not a threat. She seemed xenophobic, and after the explanation of what her son had went through, probably had little motive than revenge. Nehen, however, proposed a bit of a threat. His current master had a fondness of dark elves, and it would suit the dark elves to get someone directly to Magnus, and a pretty face was always one to be wary of.
As discussion went to trying to incite war among the tribes, Seygrim became heavily interested in that. It was a simple tactic, but a very effective one to say the least. As it went to bandits, the wizard chuckled. “Well, unfortunately its hard to convince bandits to fight under any sort of a banner... but, about the Flaim tribes, I would like to know what plan of action you would take to incite them.”
Thrash turned to Thane’s wizard aide, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Before I can make any decisions on what to do in Flaim, we will have to do some reconnaissance to see what weaknesses the tribes have that we can exploit,” Thrash replied. “For now, I can only assume that some well placed assassinations could open some old wounds.”
Thrash looked down at the Lodoss map and his thoughts drifted to tactics against the Flaim. Thane had suggested using a battle against the Triumvirate to gain recognition throughout Marmo—including the cities. However, Thrash worried about catching Duke Spark’s eye too soon. If this attack did indeed garner attention from Persei, Thrash would likely go up against the duke. If he did, Kashue would undoubtedly be summoned to Marmo, probably before he could instigate a new war between the Wind and Fire tribes. However... Flaim had no port of its own, in fact, their navy was often docked at Roid. If Kashue wanted to come to Marmo, he would have to march his troops through the desert and Valis. This could give Thrash more time to start the war, and if that happened while Kashue was on the road, the king would be forced to either turn around and quell another civil war, or divide his forces. As it was, the civil war was only a ploy to force Kashue to divide his forces, but in this gamble, there was a chance that Kashue could completely abandon Marmo in favor of the main country.
Thrash raised his eyes to Thane. “Gather your forces, and meet me here tomorrow at noon,” Thrash said.
“Very well, but if it is for a longterm operations I’ll need three days. Two minimum,” Magnus said. “I prefer to be well prepared, my lord, and I need to call back some units,” the Baron stated. He glanced at the dark elves for a moment, then to his wizard. Slowly he rose up and took his helmet underarm. “Thank you for the wine ladies,” he said with a short polite nod and then put the cup down. Already his mind was racing over the many things he would need to do. He was also unsure how the dark elves here would react to those affiliated with him. His mother’s followers might not be welcomed with open arms; the war had left many scars.
“You’re welcome,” Nehen said, bowing her head politely to Magnus. However, her eyes darted to her father as he cleared his throat. Vadiri said nothing, but had an odd expression on his face, which seemed to ask if the knight had mistaken him for a woman.
“Very well then, three days,” Thrash replied. His forces were ready to move at a moment’s notice, but apparently Magnus had much of his own force spread out. Thrash had the superior numbers, so he could spare those who he had sent on missions elsewhere. However, he would need Jet back soon before he attempted to break a rift in the Flaim tribes... There was also the question of what Jet would find in Valis, and what Thrash could do with it. Valis was Kashue’s greatest ally, and thus, Thrash had to find a way to keep the Holy King at bay as well.
Magnus noticing Vadiri’s disgruntled gaze. With a tiny smile, he then nodded to the dark elf. “And of course, my lord,” he said. He had direct his thanks to the women out of courtesy, they were the hostesses, and therefore were the ones to receive any flattery, but if the man insisted that much on etiquette, he would stretch the matter a bit, just so he would not displeased.
Magnus then turned and walked to the exit of the tent. “It was... a pleasure,” he said with his cold, low voice as he put on his helmet. A pleasure was an overstatement at best, but it could’ve been worse, seeing as how they had bumped heads at first. And he had to admit, he had a certain... curiosity about the dark elves here. For now, in any case, he could be almost certain he wouldn’t be back stabbed by his current ‘liege’ or his allies. Beyond the immediate future, he did not know yet; he might find Thrash worthy to rule, and Thrash might find him worthy as the previous king had found his father worthy, or they would end up trying to impale each other. Either way, they’d find out eventually.
The giant then walked out and headed for his horse. Patting Nightraid’s head, his thoughts lingered a moment. “And so it begins... again,” he said.
* * *
As her son took care of Thrash’s horse, Havana stood outside of the tent while the meeting went on inside. As familiar as they had been in the past, she did not want to disturb her old friend while he did business. She was wearing her armor uniform, sans armor, she did not wear her breastplate as she did not feel the need for it, however she still carried her long sword, on the off chance that she would need it.
Eventually, the giant left the tent, and she decided that now would be an appropriate time to enter. She walked in and noticed that Thrash was still in the company of two of the dark elves. She nodded to them in respect before addressing her friend, “I trust the plans are coming along well?”
As Havana entered the tent, Thrash was pleased to see his old friend and gave her a welcoming grin. “I think we have an ally,” he replied. “He’s a nobleman though. I’m concerned his ego could get in the way. Have a seat.” Thrash extended his hand to the chair at his left, where Myrela had sat earlier.
The female knight entered and sat beside Thrash in the offered seat. “You think? Has he sworn his allegiance?” she asked. Nobility didn’t sit well with her, for the same reasons Thrash was concerned; ego.
Thrash shook his head. “Not exactly,” he replied. “He wants evidence that I can lead us to victory, so he suggested that I challenge the Triumvirate, a group of raiders living on the border of the desert. I wasn’t anticipating taking them on yet, but I think I can use this to our advantage. They have a large following, and a move against them could easily get the attention of the duke. I’m working on some ideas to handle that event. I think I might need to rush our preparations to start conflict between the tribes of the Storm and Fire Desert.”
Havana listened carefully as her leader spoke, uncomfortable with the idea of having to suddenly rush things. However, if Thrash believed he could pull this off then she would not doubt him. “Is there anything you would like me to do?”
“Get yourself and the men ready for a potential battle in three days,” Thrash replied with a sigh.
The woman nodded. She stood up to leave, but paused, offering a warm smile to her leader, “It feels good to be fighting by your side again.”
Thrash looked up at Havana and grinned. “Same here,” he replied. She probably had the longest history with him out of all the surviving Marmo knights, though they hadn’t seen each other since their assignments in Kanon.
