- Writing Levels
- Adaptable
- Genres
- I'm wary of magic with lots of rules.
When Ilsa was cinched high on the cross and the yurt fell around to reveal her, the soldiers were perplexed. Most heretics or god-worshippers were quietly led away away and never returned, so they were not used to the idea of a fallen becoming a spectacle. The wooden beam rose high into the air, supported by four great Drakens, and her wrists painfully bobbed in the rope as they slowly paraded to the northern end of the camp.
By the time they reached the edge, a carnival had risen around her. The Kaustrians, wild and lawless bunch they were (much to Lut's chagrin), used this unusual event as an excuse to drink, rut, and use the woman as target practice - only the good ones. The ones who came too close to nicking the women were quietly restrained.
The clear voice excised all errant thoughts.
The Czar climbed up the backs of the beam-bearing Drakens.
The Czar wagged his finger upwards at Ilsa, whose exposed belly was bruised from purple to yellow,
Murderous silence followed his accusation. Hands curled around hilts, tongues nervously moistened lips, and shields beat a hoarse chorus.
"If the Pegulians want peace so much ... why did they bring a magical construct of war? Why did they leave behind a band of saboteurs?" and here the rest of Ilsa's party peaked out from an encirclement of Wraiths.
"The Chersonese were the neutral lands, free for anyone's taking. But it is KAUSTRIAN land now .. and Pegulis has declared WAAAAR!" Aukhmos leapt into the Czar, and his roar sounded deep into the North. Coul heard it, and so did the Black City. It would not have mattered for either of them if they had remained oblivious.
The army was prepared. Takeda had done his winterizing well. Weighed deep under furs and barrels of fat and coal, their heavy boots churned the Chersonese into mud as they marched North. The cross from which Ilsa hung was driven deep into the ground, and from up top she witnessed the flowing white river as it pushed its way into Pegulis.
By the time they reached the edge, a carnival had risen around her. The Kaustrians, wild and lawless bunch they were (much to Lut's chagrin), used this unusual event as an excuse to drink, rut, and use the woman as target practice - only the good ones. The ones who came too close to nicking the women were quietly restrained.
"COMRADES!"
The clear voice excised all errant thoughts.
"You have all seen the simpering delegations from the North .. and the West."
The Czar climbed up the backs of the beam-bearing Drakens.
"My diplomats have finished meeting with them. What did they want? Peace! BUT BEHOLD - "
The Czar wagged his finger upwards at Ilsa, whose exposed belly was bruised from purple to yellow,
"they leave behind snakes in our midst. A Pegulian spy!"
Murderous silence followed his accusation. Hands curled around hilts, tongues nervously moistened lips, and shields beat a hoarse chorus.
"If the Pegulians want peace so much ... why did they bring a magical construct of war? Why did they leave behind a band of saboteurs?" and here the rest of Ilsa's party peaked out from an encirclement of Wraiths.
"The Chersonese were the neutral lands, free for anyone's taking. But it is KAUSTRIAN land now .. and Pegulis has declared WAAAAR!" Aukhmos leapt into the Czar, and his roar sounded deep into the North. Coul heard it, and so did the Black City. It would not have mattered for either of them if they had remained oblivious.
The army was prepared. Takeda had done his winterizing well. Weighed deep under furs and barrels of fat and coal, their heavy boots churned the Chersonese into mud as they marched North. The cross from which Ilsa hung was driven deep into the ground, and from up top she witnessed the flowing white river as it pushed its way into Pegulis.