Snippet #2319677

Athena took the time to close her eyes and let the duel replay in her head all the while she listened to her brothers speak. Revan had acted out of rage. A rage that had been absent in the past. She sighed and opened up her eyes.

"Sargon if you know my strength then you know I've endured worse for longer. Kelmor...Your right... If Revan can be restored then we must, however should he attempt to claim one of our lives, I cannot promise I'll stay my blade.".

She then returned to her work but then came Sargon and moved the map towards the north. These lands were foreign and had not been claimed by any save those who ventured out to them now. This caught Athena's curiousity for while the lands were alien they seemed familiar to her somehow. Lady War snapped her fingers and a Valkyrie appeared on the table.

"Fetch me those documents Librus sent not too long ago... Lord Sargon what are these lands and who are these people?".
___________________
The Exiled Prince
___________________

22 Men ventured into the foggy elven woods. The tunics they wore over their armor bore a black cross on a white background, the coat of arms for Novgard. Their armor was heavy, for they were all knights, and their helmets were quite odd. On some there were two wings (one on each side), others had what looked like the head of lions on top their bucket helmets, while others had horns. All these things were a common sight for Novgardian Knights, they were meant to intimidate their enemes and demoralize foes on the battlefield. But what were Norgardian Knights doing so far from their home? Following their Lord to the death! What else?

Infront of them was a certain Knight who walked infront of the others, leading them. He had wings on his helmet like the others but he was shorter and leaner. Not too far from him was a larger, rounder man. He was the only one who did wore wear armor but instead he wore the robes of a learned mage. He seemed ancient but he managed to keep up with the leader of the group.

"Uncle!", He called back to the fat mage behind him as he lead on. "Are you sure the elves know where the Sword of Strength is?".

The Old mage scratched his beard and replied. "You know...Now that I think of it. It may have been a dream...".

"What?!".


The prince removed his helmet and looked back at his Uncle who seemed care free despite the fact they were roaming in the lands beseiged by the Orc Hordes.

"You mean to tell me that you told me to go the Elven nations because of a stupid dream?".

"Of course.", the old man replied happily. "Don't you know your dreams can_".

"Hush!...Did you hear that?"