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March of Kazros - Legends of Nisdharil, Chapter I

Damn it. I'm too old for this. I would've been home reading a good book if I got to choose, but no. Of course we were going to start a war against the elves. Humph. Stupid law, that all male Goblins have to serve the Sinister in war. Rugurn thought grumpily. All the bowing made his back ache, and so he put a healing spell on it. He had to use that spell each day, his back hurt that much. Damn aging. I wish I was younger, then I might've looked forward to this war. I guess I'll have to stay out of reach for the elves and kill them from afar.

"What are you waiting for?" Sinister Hak screamed, interupting Rugurn's thoughts, "Quick MARCH!"

What? Walk? Akh. my body ain't what it used to be. That was Rugurn, complaining about everything. Aren't we going to teleport? Or float, at least cast a spell on my legs so that they wouldn't feel tireness, or just make them walk on their own, huh? Pfft. Walking is for losers.

The Goblin soldiers began marching, but the Sorcerers were ordered before the battle that they could teleport to the gallions. Rugurn hadn't really been attentive at that time, so he was slightly confused when all the Goblin Spellcasters around him teleported all at once. He teleported right after them.

His body felt tickly. A feeling that he had hated all his life. Tickling. Useless feeling, that's what it is. Pain isn't, though, giving pain to enemies, that's a pleasure. Then it all turned white. Rugurn was already half-blind on his left eye, and blind on his right, so it didn't affect him much.

And then he was with the ships. Rugurn couldn't see the Galleons very clear, nor the ocean, but he used his other senses, smell and hearing. The other Sorcerers glanced half a second at him for coming too late, but soon returned to original positure, and Rugurn copied it.

((I'm sorry if that was Godmodding, but, well, Goblins who can use magic, would mostly choose teleporting before walking, right? If it was godmodding, and not supposed to happen, ignore the last three paragraphs and think of this as my continued RPG post, 'kay ;3))

The Goblin soldiers began marching towards the ocean, and the Sorcerers quickly followed in a normal pace. Rugurn hated walking. I would rather teleport. Easier, faster and healthier for a grumpy old poop like me. He humphed, but stayed quiet the rest of the walk.
 
Goldenflame flew over the land of Kazros and saw many Goblins marching to a place unknown to this Phoenix. Goldenflame also saw some Elves as well. She wondered what they were doing so decided to follow them in the sky.

Note: I made it!
 
Phantom looked down, and came across another Phoenix. It was Firesong. He did a barrel roll downward like a crashing plane, and flitted about in circles around her.

"Good day!"
 
Firesong saw someone approaching, and instantly panic. She had a clear lack of social skills. Oh, what was she to do now...

Randomly, she wheeled in the air and shook her head, confused. Meanwhile, she flapped her wings excitedly, slowly soaring upwards. Then, she began to speed towards the ground, and caught herself again.

"Uh... hi?" she said shyly, wobbling slightly. "I eat grass..."

That was all she could say.
 
Phantom tilted his head in mid flight, but did nothing else.

"Enjoy the sunshine," he crooned, turning and lifting higher into the sky.
 
"Where are you going?" Firesong asked, tilting her own head with curiosity. She swooped back up towards Phantom.

((Cryptica, would it be all right for Firesong to somehow make friends with Phantom?))
 
"Uh... I eat grass..." Firesong said again, truly stumped. "Firesong's my name, and who are you?" She asked unconfidently, trying to hide her face in her wings. But she had to keep flying, and wasn't planning to crash-land anytime soon. The question was, why was this male here? Did he come because of her song?
 
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"Why would eating grass make you a bad phoenix?" Phantom asked. "Anyway, my name's Phantom. I prefer Phantom of the Flames, but that's my own imaginary name."
 
"I-I don't know what other phoenixes eat," Firesong stammered, slowly flapping her wings in midair. "I was just wondering... if it was strange to you."
 
"Not at all," said Phantom. "Creatures eat what they can digest properly. It's the way of nature. As for me, my diet is the one of the owl's."
 
Firesong smiled, more confident now. Maybe this was just him... perhaps there were more strict phoenixes, far off. But he was good enough company for now.

She drifted down to the grass, where she roosted and plucked a few blades.
 
Phantom watched Firesong land. His wings were getting a bit tired, so he did the same, swooping down and stopping on the grass. He sighed and relaxed himself, digging his talons into the ground to avoid falling over. He let the sun's light and warmth be absorbed into his flame-colored plumage.
 
Firesong spread her wings once more, but did not land. She fell over so she looked flat, and stared intently at the land straight ahead of her, unblinking. She was very tired...
 
((Bakuphoon, that's fine. But it was Brandhyr that ordered the army to start moving, not Hak.))

Hak emerged onto the deck of his personal Galleon, The Sea-Vulture. It was a tad smaller than the others, but no-one else would be boarding it except the ship's crew, so he has all the ship's luxuries to himself - but for now, he would stay up here to watch the progress of the fleet.

He watched all the pawns and sorcerers boarding the other ships, and grinned maliciously. Even though they were, of course, far inferior to him, he loved watching them, a mighty strength in numbers, ready to serve Hak to their deaths.

When all the soldiers and sorcerers were on board, there was a moment of utter silence - even the ocean seemed to quieten for a second. Then the ropes anchoring the galleons to land were cut, and with an almighty blast of wind (Magically created by Shfreik), the ships set off towards the distant Banari.

Ξ​

Wisest One Hatigoi tore his large, electric blue eyes away from the magical projection screen. What he had seen was... troubling, to say the least, but didn't really affect him very much - after all, why should the petty quarrels between Goblins and Elves concern him?

He looked back at the floating projection, and saw again the fifty or so huge ships cutting through the ocean like knives through butter, and at the front a smaller ship, the evil face of Sinister Hak grinning maliciously from the deck.

"Should we warn the Elves?" he asked the empty room.

"Trust your own judgment, Wisest One," the room replied.

"My judgment says to ignore it, but for some reason I find it hard to just let the Elves be brutally slaughtered. I've seen what the Goblins can do, and frankly it's not very nice."

"Then warn them," the room said calmly.

"I suppose I will," he sighed, and opened his mouth and began to make an 'Aaaa' noise, simultaneously casting a spell over his voice.

Ξ​

At the same time, High Elder Draxysa of the Elves was experiencing a strange feeling in his ears. A warm tingling was filling them, and very suddenly he heard, as clearly as if someone was standing next to him and speaking into his ear, a voice, clearly distinguishable as that of a Pixie.

"Avuh, Duraxysa," the voice said. It sounded like Ancient Nisdhata.

"...Sorry?" the Elf replied.

"Aaah." the voice cleared its throat, and Draxysa felt another tingling in his ears. A moment later, the voice spoke again. "Sorry about that, I forgot to change my voice to Old Nisdhata."

"...Forgive me, but who is this?" Draxysa asked.

"I believe we've met before. Wisest One Hatigoi of the Pixies."

"Ah. Of course. And, um, what can I do for you?"

"It's not what you can do for me, rather what I can do for you. You see, there is... how can I put this?"

"Go on..."

"Okay. There's a large fleet of Goblin ships approaching you, intent on destroying you and your people."

"What?"

"That is all. Thank you, Draxysa."

And the voice disappeared.

"Great Gods in Yuldamita..."

Draxysa bit his lower lip. He was trying to stay calm, but that was hardly a feasible idea. He touched two fingers to the white gemstone in his crown, and, trying to keep his voice level, spoke.

"Elves of Monari, Banari and the further Elven settlements, I have received grievous news. We will very soon be under attack by Hak and his Goblins. I ask you all to arm yourselves, fortify your homes and stick together in groups. I'd also like the army to assemble as soon as possible on the east coast of Banari, ready to meet the Goblins."

Every Elf in Nisdharil would wear a gemstone at all times, somewhere on their body. Right now, the gem of every elf would begin to glow, and to hear Draxysa's message they would merely have to hold their fingers to the gem. He hoped they all would as soon as possible...
 
As Fassar wasn't a real elf and didn't carry such a gemstone, he didn't hear the message - but it was hardly necessary anyway, as he saw the fleet launch. The ships themselves were massive, and the size of the fleet nearly impressed him, too. But that hardly mattered. They hadn't made a sacrifice of any sort.

Nobody swimming that he could just take as a sacrifice, either.

Fassar smiled serenely.

Well, he hadn't been able to meet them at launch or just before, but he could still demand a sacrifice.

Standing fearlessly before the fleet, he mentally reached out toward the water, and found it willing - as always. He was the water, after all; he was the water of all of Nisdharil. And he followed his own will, always. Unless he didn't want to.

Oh, but he could wait for them to get farther from shore... yes, that sounded like a good idea. If they refused to sacrifice anything, anyway. There were a variety of sacrifices they could make (most involving death of one of their own, preferably by drowning), and he didn't care which.

It was just a sign of respect for the ocean, after all.

Fassar raised a hand, continuing to walk forward. The water before the fleet, and under the first few ships, stirred ominously, warning them of his presence. It would be difficult to project his voice toward them in this form, so to make his demands he'd have to actually get on one of their ships.

Though it wouldn't be too hard to figure out, he'd think. Drown, perhaps, one of their members per ship should do it, if they wanted the extra help of a calm journey throughout, but just tossing a few of their collective number overboard would mean he'd just leave them be. Most seaside communities of any size knew to make sacrifices, because he personally visited them quite often. If somehow they didn't, well, he'd just have to teach them, right?
 
"Sinister Hak,"

Hak turned to find himself face-to-face with a member of the ship's crew.

"What is it," he snapped, scowling at the young Goblin.

"From what we can observe, the waters are getting rather... choppy around the fleet, but nowhere else."

"And?"

"We suspect a Spirit is threatening us-"

"Preposterous. Spirits don't exist, you fool!"

"Sinister Hak, I-"

"Silence! How dare you interrupt me, boy?"

"I - please accept my deepest apologies, your Sinisterness -"

"Oh, yes, you should be sorry, fool."

And with that he grabbed the Goblin by the neck and slammed it down onto the ship's railing.

"Great Frawesros, accept this child as a sacrifice, and give me good fortune for this journey," he whispered through gritted teeth, and let go of the sailor's neck, pushing its legs upwards so that it tumbled overboard, barely alive after Hak's strangling grasp.
 
Mark was out looking for food. Of course, he could always just go to the nearby town and buy food, and this is what he planned to do if he didn't find anything, but he enjoyed foraging anyway. He spotted a tree with a several orange, round fruits with a couple of red splotches. He cut down many of the fruits using Magic, and put all but one in his pack. He peeled away some of the skin and took a bite. It was sweet and ripe, and Mark was glad he had picked it. He walked along, grabbing nuts and assorted berries, until he came to a cliff overlooking the sea. Mark squinted across the water, and saw a number of large smudges. Muttering a few words, he released the Magic, using his new staff as an outlet, and an image formed in his mind's eye. It was somewhat murky, but Mark was able to make out, to his dismay, several large, armed ships filled to the brim with Goblins. Shocked, he dropped his half-eaten fruit and ran, heading towards the nearest town
 
Fassar, now kneeling on the water with his eyes closed, felt some living being fall into the ocean. It seemed that they had gotten the message after all, but... only one? Well, it would do. The sacrifice plunged deeper into the water, finding himself unable to swim or float or do anything at all but flail weakly until he died.

It was only then that Fassar released his hold on the water, letting it calm down back to normal.

One sacrifice was pretty small for such a large fleet, but he let it pass - if only because he was rather curious about what they were doing. He would neither help nor harm them (unless he suddenly felt like doing so, some time in the future - but he had no intentions of either right now).

He didn't even know who these people crossing his ocean were, let alone what they wanted or their destination. Until he figured out how his wishes aligned with theirs, he wasn't going to do anything.
 
Acacia was soon bored, nothing seemed to be going on anywhere nearby. She pulled off a few thin ivy vines that had grown around her feet and jumped to the ground with a loud thump. A fall from that height would have killed a human, but she didn't have to worry about that. The spirit giggled and stepped back from the spot where she'd landed. Bright yellow flowers had appeared there in about a 1 foot by 1 foot area.
"That seems to happen a lot. Hm. Pretty."
She laughed again and trotted happily down a small path through her woods, to her "home", which was really just a huge tree that was great for climbing and jumping from and swinging on thinner branches. Acacia was happy (as usual) but the day was too boring. She felt a bit lonely, but the feeling didn't last long.
 
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