It was a cold morning, winds moving in from the North. It was also first frost of the year, and it had come early. It was a foreboding sign, as the harvests ended much sooner, as if reeling from the after effects these few long weeks after the first calls to 'war'. These were difficult times in Connlaoth, a war that would pit the entire country against itself, where men would be raised, trained to fight using the new war blades and tactics perfected by the scholars and knights in both Reajh and Uthlyn, while the entire country was still recovering from the shock of the death of the Grand Duke.
Soon, the new Grand Duke would presume the thrown, the Duke from the smaller but prosperous duchy of Allar located near the coast. The man was already ready for ruling, taking an iron fist and helping to pull the nobles together in preparations to defend itself against the wickedness of magic, something the country has been skirting around for far too long.
No, now every mage was seen as the enemy. And new laws were being pressed to enforce that, all for the good of the country.
For Connlaoth. For Men. For Freedom.
General Serenus stood before his men, the group of new recruits that had barely gotten out of their early boughts of training some months ago. Others might be farther along than some, but these were times of war, and they would use all of the men they could get. And they were all youthful, spirited, and anxious to protect their homes, their lands, their families. For some time, Connlaoth had laid dormant to any sorts of affects of war, let alone war upon itself. So for years, knights were seen as brave polices of their own individual duchies. But now, all of the men have been rallying together, the soldiers, the nobles, even the traders, the commoners, crying out for answers, for justice, and for war.
Reajh had finally calmed down, the city in a policed state with curfews and mages being snuffed out and taken to camps in the mountain, all of the ones they could collect, marching on foot. It was a mage in Reajh that had killed the Grand Duke; and the military and 'new' Grand Duke would not let any mage, innocent or not, forget.
So this particular morning, on a western field, just outside the capital, was particularly quiet. The entire city, which had been bustling wtih noise and chaos for a time, had finally reached a point where it was 'under control'. Perhaps too much control, but for now, everyone simply obeyed. And they all had eyes pointed towards the palace, holding their breaths, waiting to see what the new Grand Duke would have in store.
General Serenus already had his orders. Take the men, finish their training on the new equipment and have them move onto the next town. Uthlyn would be next, needing 'cleansed' of mages, not to mention they would need recruits to watch over the mage camps they were constantly building in the Kilanthro mountains to the north.
And winter was coming. And it would be a long and cold one.
Stalking before his men, the General was quick to bark out orders.
"As you all already know, the mage problem will affect all of Connlaoth. The capital is secure, but other cities may be in jeopardy. These are trying times, and we must all take this moment to reflect back to Angsar, to pray to him for guidance, and to learn how to steel our hearts, turn them to become as strong as the metal we wear, the metal we weild." As he spoke, he lifted up his blade carefully, it catching a glint of light from the early morning sun.
"As we move on, you will be dealing with an enemy that may seem as common or innocent as your neighbors, and infact, some of our enemies will be your neighbors, your brothers, your sisters, even your children. This is a war on disease, on control, and we have to seize the moment now, to put an end to this chaos, to the threat the mages pose against us. Our orders come from all of the nobles in all of the collective duchies of Connlaoth, so let's listen to them well. These families are of noble blood, descendants from those who helped start this great country we've all come to call home. Now, it is our chance as men to protect that home, and to show the world what we are worth. Fight for your honor, fight for your soul, and fight for the protection of the innocent, of the true race. For Connlaoth!"
The words of the General struck a deep cord within Killian Gryst. He wished to be brave, to be a hero, just like the knights he had read about in stories from his childhood. He had had dreamed of this moment, so as the speech went on, he felt a lump form within his throat, a burn within his belly and chest, as he kept his head up high and his blue eyes ever focused.
Though, To be honest, he was afraid. Before joining the knighthood, he dreamed of great herorism, but not the actual reality of war. The fact it was very real now had turned his world upside down, and was breaking away some of the naivety that had protected some of the innocence he still possessed. Though he was soft at heart, he was eager to please, and would not protest. He was goign to be a knight. He would help his home. He would protect the innocent.
He had already gone through the basic training, knew how to wield his blade, how to steady his shield, but knights trained for years, and he only had months under his belt. It seemed that was all they would need. Their training had been quick, intensified, and now they were learning how to fire the canons, the new flint lock rifles and guns (though not many had been manufactured, so Killian was not amongst the ranks that got to learn of those weapons) but other such new weapons were also being tossed their way). So not only swords would be learned, but arrows and crooked blades, crossbows and poisons even (and when Killian heard about the poisons and poison arrows, he felt his skin crawl and blood run cold).
Cold,.. just like the day. He flattened his lips and simply listened, waiting for General Serenus's next order. It seemed today was canon practice, so as his eyes stretched out towards the open field, he was curious what to expect. He had never fired a canon before, and although it was being explained, he still felt nervous, so was glad when he was paired with Greer Horn. Though Greer was always very into his work, Killian admired him and tended to follow along on his thoughts and theories. He, himself, was not a leader, but Greer's personality naturally lead him to follow him and Killian would often times simply nod his head at most of what he had to say. They had done some training together, and he respected him. And they had both grown up on farms. So they had much in common.
"So, have you ever fired a cannon before?" Killian asked, as the pair of them walked towards the other end of the field. He was still nervous, his belly pinwheeling over the prospect. BUt he figured it would be alright, things would be ok. Greer was confident, and it tended to make Killian more confident as well.