[Locked to Redflight] Sent into battle

[telaari]

Who: Vastania and the Red Dragonsworn
What: After a bit of divine inspiration, Vas is digging in her hooves and organizing people.
Where: The Ruby Sanctum
When: Backdated to the 5th
Warnings: Nothing NSFW, but Vas is likely to literally knock some sense into people if they're stubborn. Nothing that'll hurt too bad, but enough to rattle most people.

"I kneel before You to beg Your aid."

The words of the prayer come more easily to her in Eredun than in Common. "I carry Your standard in a strange land, far away from the reach of the Exiles.

"There are demons at our neck. Guide my blade and let it cleanse them of their corruption. Let my shield be immovable, unable to buckle beneath their terrible blows.

"Grant me the strength to face my maddened forefathers. Let me not fall into their corruption even as I strike them." A pause. "Grant me the strength to tell my allies of the Defiled Ones, and bless them with the sense to see that I am of Your domain. Let them see that I am Exiled for following Your command and that of the Prophet."

Another pause. Her voice drops to a whisper, even though she knows that no-one else here speaks her native language.

"O Light, grant them sense, and me the strength to lead them!"

She waits, still kneeling, for an answer. The Light stirs, but it offers none.

Vastania waits a while still, silent. If Fin could see her now, she'd likely laugh until her tail fell off. No- Fin would knock her onto her tail and tell her to get back up, that's what she'd do. She'd ask what she was doing, dragging her hooves and moping when there was work to be done. And she'd have had these humans trained and drilled ten days ago.

The Light stirs again. Your answer.

The Vindicator looks up sharply. The Light is usually not very straightforward, but even she understands what this means. She utters a word of thanks and draws herself up, sheathing her sword. To be more like Fin... she closes her eyes for a moment and imagines what it must be like, to have those outstretched horns and heavy armor, carrying that claymore as if it was a feather. What it must be like to be so surefooted, so confident, that she might go into battle with a smirk on her face.

What she would do to prepare them if she was here. What she would do if the others refused to listen.

She walks to the edge of the Sanctum's central pond, then turns so she faces away from it. Vas breathes in deeply once, twice, to quell her shaking nerves. A third time, to clear her head.

A fourth, to issue her command.

"Dragonsworn, to me! Today, you will learn to be soldiers in this war against the Legion!"

Comments

[seesbosscrotch]

Maridian lowered his hand, some of the cheerfulness vanishing from his voice. "So would it be preferable to wage a war of extermination on a people who were involuntarily transformed into the undead as a result of a plague intended to subjugate them into a loyal army for the Lich King? Is that fair, just, or righteous? Should we abandon them, and thus encourage them to walk a dark path they're already tempted down, thus creating another enemy on our flanks when we're already neck-deep in them? Should we judge others by what they are, instead of who?"

[wilder]

Seriously? That was his argument? A guilt trip? At least it makes him pull back from his yelling and shake his head with a chuckle, reeling back his emotions. Zelos felt more comfortable keeping up his composure.

"Heh...just, righteous. You know, there's nothing worse than those words out of the mouth of an idiot."

He looks at Mar. In contrast to Mar's loss of cheer, there's a faint smirk on his face, but his eyes read nothing but completely coldness.

"Look, save the sad stories. Everyone has one and they don't justify anything. If your undead pals aren't killing innocent people, then I don't care what they do. But if they are? Then yeah, I'd easily choose the lives of those still living over the ones killing them. It's as simple as that."

[seesbosscrotch]

Guilt? Mar called it a mixture of basic ethics and pragmatism.

"You seemed to care a lot about the potential of being eaten," Mar pointed out mildly. Insults didn't bother him; he'd heard them all, and that was just counting his time here in the Sanctum. "For the record, I've worked with some Forsaken I would trust with my life, and have yet to be eaten once."

[wilder]

"It's a sorry way to go," He states simply enough.

"And that's just great for you! Really! But since I barely know you? That vouch really doesn't mean much." Since really, rep grinding for Zelos Wilder takes more work than the Black Prince- you cant even kill to earn his favor!

"But on that note, I should really go get to sword practice." And he's turning to leave.

[seesbosscrotch]

Mar didn't understand people. One moment they were up in arms to the point of fury about a dietary restriction, the next they were insulted when you pointed out that the so-restricted people didn't have a choice... Ah well. If he actually wanted friends or approval, he might have a problem with this, but really he couldn't call Kaneis's response anything less than ideal.

"Don't neglect axes and maces!" he said, right back to cheerful as if nothing had ever come between them. "You never know what your next best weapon will be!"