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Robert Turya

"Only is death do my vows release me."

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a character in “The Chosen Few: The Broken Order”, as played by RPG Junkie

Description

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Name: Robert Turya
Race: Human
Rank: Lieutenant-Commander
Birthdate/Age: Spring 894,4E / 30 Years Old
Gender: Male
Alignment: Lawful Neutral




Appearance: Standing just over six feet tall, Robert Turya manages to embody the stature and physique of a hardened soldier. Years of honing his body and training with the Order has built his body into a force of raw power, though it would be remiss for one to think him just a hulking mass of muscle. Robert has managed to stay surprisingly limber despite his intense training, knowing that agility is not an aspect that a soldier should lack, but he of course would not hold a candle in this trait to those trained exclusively for it.

Upon his head rests his hair, a mixture of blonde and brown locks that flow back into a tight ponytail, and upon his face sits a roughly trimmed beard mimicking the color of the hair above. Upon closer inspection of his face woul would also see the fierce piercing green eyes of one who has seen more than his years could manage, and across his right eye and running down his cheek is a deep scar acquired in his years of service.

Personality: Robert Turya is and has always been a solitary man for the most part. Even in boyhood when others would come together in merriment and celebration Robert would often remain alone, relishing the time he had to himself. This nature of seeking solidarity carried over into his manhood and persisted up through his years after joining the Order of the Watchers. Others have often mistook his peculiar nature for malice or disdain towards them, however; that could not be farther from the truth. Robert does indeed love the time he is able to spend with those he would call his friend, at the end of the day he just prefers being left to his own devices.

Skills/Abilities:
Swordsmanship- The men and women of the Order of the Watchers are highly diverse in many ways including their various specializations in combat. Robert, being a traditionalist, preferred the longsword hoping it would bring him closer to the visage of a heroic knight. He off course found out that looking like a knight and fighting like one were worlds apart and as his training progressed he found it ever more difficult. After years of study in both method and practice he adopted a theory of training many before him had. Every aspect of life involving the sword, whether it be sparring or a fight to the death, is a training session and a true warrior should always leave each fight a little the wiser.

Hunting&Tracking- The knights of the Order of the Watchers are known to be decently versed in hunting and tracking of live creatures. Whether it be game, dangerous beast, or a person when men of the Order assume a hunt they more often than not bag their prey. Robert is no exception to this rule. One of his first duties as a recruit was hunting game for the Order on outings, and even as he ascended he continued to volunteer whenever a hunt was required. Because of this he has developed into a fine hunter and tracker, and while his skills may not rival an Elven Huntsman, he is certainly well gifted for a man.



History: The past of the intrepid Robert Turya is one met with many uncertainties from his peers from the sheer lack of knowledge possessed about his time before joining the Order of the Watchers. He himself rarely, if ever, divulges anymore than a passing reference on the matter which has caused widespread speculation on just who he was before he became a Watcher. However; while many would attempt to create some grandiose illusion of a past for him, the truth of these matters is far less scandalous and intriguing than many try to interpret.

Robert was indeed born of noble blood, but to a lesser lord with no real holdings or titles at his disposal. Though he was a bastard his father, Aeric Gundar, provided for both Robert and his until he had grown into a young man. Though many believed Aeric's generosity in Robert's upbringing was the result of his caring for his son, the truth was far less glamorous. As he grew Robert was constantly reminded what he was by none other than his father and he was never allowed to forget what Aeric had done for him and his mother. As a lesser lord Aeric was allotted few opportunities such as the one thay came with a bastard son with a debt owed to him, and throughout most off Robert's young life he cashed in on it. Young Robert was charged with everything from household chores, to cleaning the stables, and even with cooking dinner for his father's family, though that was not to say Robert was mistreated in any direct manner. He was, and had always been, relatively thankful for his life and he knew there were much worse places he could have would up. Still though, he couldn't help but wanting more out of life and little did he know a chance for him to change everything would soon make itself known.

It was the late winter of the 909th year of the Fourth Era when the course of young Robert Turya's life would change drastically. The snow had fallen hard that year, and with it came a terrible frost that had beset most of the countryside. Food was scarce, even for a noble like Aeric, and with the scarcity of food came great unrest to the common folk. In times of great crisis when no other options are available and men become desperate people often turn on the closest person in a position of power, unfortunately for Robert in his town that was his father. It hadn't took long for the rioting to start, and when the townsfolk had finished turning on themselves the turned towards his father. The few men the Aeric had at his disposal were weak and just as hungry as the rest of the people in town, so when they stormed the manor it didn't take long for them to be overrun. Robert fought that day too but for a different reason entirely, he was fighting for his mother who also lived with him in the servants quarters of Aeric's manor. Robert knew that Aeric's family wouldn't be the only ones to be drug through the streets. No, he knew once they had finished with them anyone who had lived in ghe cosy confides of the manor would suffer the same fate whether they be servant or otherwise. When the fighting began Robert had tried drastically to remain near his mother's room to offer protection, but in the heat of the fighting he had found himself displaced from his original location. Never in his lifetime would Robert had imagined himself fighting with people he had come to see every day throughout the town, and this horror truly hit home when he found himself standing over the body of a man he had come to call his friend. The bloody knife in Robert's hand still wet with the tinged red, it was in this moment he knew that all ties to these people and any decorum left in them had vanished causing Robert to run towards his mother's quarters as quickly as possible. When he arrived the things he saw were like something from a bad dream and he had realised his error for not staying closer to his mother's side. She was dead, and upon seeing how violently she had been killed Robert gave up. Amidst all the fighting and death he simply sat down upon the floor and gave up.

Shortly after a day had passed the Order of Watchers rode into town to restore some form of order to the town. They rounded up the ringleaders of this little insurrection and put them to the sword and shortly thereafter began aiding in the reconstruction of the town. For Robert's family it had all been too late, for both his father's and his own. His mother had been killed and all except his younger half-sister were now dead also. The people he had come to known and befriend his entire life had taken everything from him and he had been defenseless to stop it. Commander Richard Bolton had been the one to find Robert sitting in the corner of his mother's room covered in blood. Whether out of pitty, duty, or curiosity the Commander took the boy that Robert was and cleaned him up hoping he could coax him out of the shock he was in. Eventually he was able to, and after hearing his story Commander Bolton offered Robert a chance to join the Order, and with little other options Robert accepted.

Though his time prior to joining The Watchers had been a harsh one, he found new purpose as a Knight-Brother of the Order. Due to his past he was use to working hard and because of the horrors he faced during the uprising in his hometown he was fully aware of the need to enforce order. He soon found himself quickly ascending through the ranks due to his diligence and piousness, though many could tell he was often haunted by some memory he kept hidden. Despite this however, Robert remained a bastion of confidence and in time he had even become an example for many younger Knight-Brothers to look up to. When the civil war started Robert was one of the few that supported the Grandmaster's decision to ally with one of the warring lords. Knowing firsthand how horrifying discontent can become when things get out of hand Robert believed it was the quickest way for ending the war. It was only after the massacre at Halwall Castle did Robert realise the folly of his way off thinking.

So begins...

Robert Turya's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Robert Turya

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A mid-days sun peaked high above the battlements of Halwall castle, it's high walls still containing the carnage and horror strewn across courtyard. The sound of the Wyvren banner of House Ducant flapping in the wind is accompanied only by the increasing number of caws emitted by the ever crowing horde of crows perched upon the castle outlooks, waiting for a chance to feast on the numerous dead lining the ground. On the morn the noble and gallant Watchers rode to this fortress under the promise of friendship, hoping only to end the turmoil overtaking the realm, but instead they found only death. So many bodies lay scattered upon the ground it is hard to distinguish were one ends and the other begins, and the blood splattered upon the walls seems like a devils visage. It is amongst this sea of death and despair two lowly servants act as porters, removing the dead from the courtyard so they may be burned or otherwise disposed of.

"I tell ya mate. It weren't right, his lordship ordering these Watchers croaked." One of the porters says as he takes another body by the feet and waits for his counterpart to grab the other end. "Watchers are godly folk. Dis just dont sit right with me."

"Keep your voice down you lummox!" The other says in a hushed tone. "It ain't my place to question our lord, and it ain't yours neither. You keep talking like that you might as well put us both under the axe."

"Im just sayin." The first porter responds. "Sumfin like dis can only bring bad luck on his lordship. I mean what if they really were servants of the gods heh?"

"The only god you need to be worrying about right now is Lord Ulfric, and what he is prone to do if our service starts lacking here." The second porter says begrudgingly as he and his comrade toss another body into the pile.

"Say, what do you think hapnin to those lot that got carted off by the guards?" The first porter asks hoping to entice an answer out of the second.

"Nothing good mate." The second responds. "Nothing good attall."

Unbeknownst to either of the porters nothing had yet happened to those few unlucky Watchers captured during the fray. Deep beneath the bloodsoaked stone and mud of the courtyard in darkened cells, they now waited for whatever cruel devices their foe could concoct. To mant being captured was a fate worse than death and that sentiment was certainly shared by some confined in the dungeons of Halwall.



Lieutenant-Commander Robert Turya had not been taken without a fight. When the men of Lord Ulfric descended upon the Order of the Watchers he had been fully prepared to fight to the death, but the sight of seeing so many of his Knight-Brothers and Sisters taken had enacted and unforeseen toll upon him. The more fell the lower morale became and eventually he too succumbed to the fear of a death he was so ready to face, and before it was over he put down his sword. The real blow to Robert's psyche came when his mentor, Commander Bolton, was struck down before his eyes. Robert had been powerless to stop it, just as he was powerless to stop the approaching doom for the other Watchers locked in these cells and himself.

Robert now stood with his head resting against the iron bars of the cell. Drops of blood could still be seen falling from his hand where he had been injured earlier. There was nothing but silence and despair occupying the air around him, but of course that would soon change.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard

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It sounded like a slow rain for a moment. The constant droplets running from Robert's shoulder down to his hand before falling onto the cold floor beneath him. He stood there, back resting against the bars of the cell, thinking that this wouldn't be such a bad way to die but deep inside he knew he was destined for the humiliation of a public execution. He continued standing there watching the blood roll off his fingers, until a series of voices cut through the veil off darkness that filled the dungeon.

Robert's ears perked up, but he said not a word at first. No, instead he listened to his compatriots attempting to gauge their resolve in this desperate state. Some pleaded for help, others called out to friends they knew were no longer amongst the living, but Robert couldn't help but admire their spirit. Perhaps it was the Watcher in them that made them still have hope in this desperate hour, or perhaps the Order just attraced such resilient members. Either way Robert's heavy heart lightened just a bit from they strength they still had. Robert cringed in pain as he attempted to pull himself up from the floor, which in turn enticed a nasty cough to overtake him as he stood. He hadn't felt it at first but Robert knew he was in pretty bad shape, however; he knew to take victories where he could find them and being alive was certainly one.

"Stay strong." He called out to the others muddled about the dungeon."Only in death do our vows release us. Until then all we can do is make killing us as difficult as possible for these godless bastards."

Robert knew his words were mostly empty, but somewhere inside he knew that this wasn't the end. He was a Lieutenant-Commander of the Order of the Watchers and he would be damned if he was carted of to the block without a fight.



Above the stink and despair of the dungeons Lord Ulfric was pacing back and forth with a look of concern plastered upon his face. His scouts had reported a large force of men heading towards Halwall, and from the look of it they were prepared for war.

"Gods be damned! They'll be on us in hours! How long will it take to summon my banners?" Lord Ulfric barked out to an older pudgy man with a stack of papers in his hands.

"Your retainers will be assembled and riding towards Halwall by this evening sire, but...." The older man spoke before he was cut off by Ulfric.

"But they will not arrive in time! I know this already!" Lord Ulfric shouted as he knocked the papers from the man's hands. "We cannot lose Halwall. It is our only avenue of attack in the east. Perhaps....perhaps eliminating the Order so soon was a mistake, they would have been an asset in this coming battle."

"No my lord." The pudgy man spoke as he gathered up his papers. "You must not second guess yourself. You did what you must, no more no less."

"You are right my friend." Ulfric said as he let out a sigh and sat down behind his desk. "But I cannot help but feek the Gods have turned their back to me."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard

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Merriwyn shook her head in disgust at the injuries to her ally and the squalid conditions she was forced to reside in. "These men are barbarians. Attacking the unsuspecting and then locking them up in such conditions, and with the men and women of the Gods, they will most certainly be for an ill fate when the Reaper and the Seeker comes for them." She seemed to almost rant to Mera, mixing the gods of her people and the humans. "I wonder how the Church will take this betrayal, regardless of our breaking off, we are still people of the faith." Merriwyn rubbed her hands, the friction warming them up as she uttered a few elvish incantations. "Tanka tel' taurnin. Poika tuulo' 'kshapsae" A spell of healing for sealing the wound and a spell of cure for any corruption which may have begun to set, without the proper conditions for a proper healing ritual, Merriwyn would have to make do with sealing the wounds and clearing any infection. She repeated the incantations at least three more times just to be sure.

Merriwyn recalled Mera's comments on Alcuin hushing Merriwyn and she merely nodded, "We have all lost a great deal, some more than others," She agreed, she had heard rumours of expulsion from his home kingdom. "It was my honour to heal you, no need to thank me. No need to call the guard back either, I think I'll stay until he passes back." Merriwyn listened to the conversation and decided to put her own input. "I did witness a few of the sisters and brothers fleeing, but how far they got I am not aware. Yet I do not doubt the Betrayer sent more after them." Merriwyn admitted, a sadness to her voice, her head shaking slightly in shame. "I'm sorry I did not do more. Yet I can do some good now, how many of you are injured?"

She had to make sure Mera was fine after being healed with elvish magic and after sitting with her for a few more minutes, she would attempt to heal anyone else injured, hopefully the now fearful guard would return and be willing to let her help anyone else injured.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard

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#, as written by RCJJ23
When Allen heard the voice, which he could vaguely recognize as the one of Lieutenant-Commander Turya since he had served with him in the past though he doubted that he would remember him, he delivered a prayer although he was by no means devout. He delivered a prayer to the Judge to cast his divine justice on those who betrayed the Order and a prayer to the Ruthgards' patron god, Nargul, to give him the strength to fight when the time came, if it ever came. They hadn't bound him so he would give them a good fight if they came to cart him away. Then remembering the squire calling out her name he decided to say his as well.

"I am Brother-Sergeant Allen Ruthgard; of Garnum." He added his place of birth as an afterthought, as he was unsure if any of the other prisoners in the cells or even one of the guards were from around there and knew of the Ruthgards.

Allen sat there for a few more moments before slowly getting to his feet. He had to bend his head down to avoid knocking it on the ceiling of the small cell. From there he explored it a little. All there was was the straw mattress, a small wooden bucket and rats. Nothing too special about this prison cell. The aches still permeated through the block his mind was setting up, but it was getting further away and it was sharpening his pain dulled senses. He went back over and sat on his mattress and waited.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard

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"It did be my honor to have met you, Sister Merriwyn. I did never have met a Fae before, so it do have been my pleasure," Mera responded as Merriwyn finished healing her. Already Mera was beginning to feel better than she had before, a warm feeling that swept through her body and removed the traces of sickness she had been feeling all this time. Magic really was an amazing thing to see and experience.

Thinking back to the slaughter that had been conducted by Ulfric's men, the destitute condition the Order was left in, Mera growled, "I do be hoping the scoundrels suffer when they do pass to the next life. It be the only fair thing they will get there." Spitting on the ground, she watched as the guard transferred Merriwyn to the cell occupied by Tevran. Surely there was a way to escape this predicament with what they had, some detail or opening they had missed.

As Allen called out to the others, Mera responded, "It do be a pleasure to meet you, Brother Allen. My name do be Mera Atkinson o' Lakesbridge. And do that be you, Brother-Lieutenant-Commander Turya? Already the situation do be looking better than it be before."

Turning back towards the guard, she watched the man stand there watching Tevran and Merriwyn. The gods-forsaken man stood there as if he was powerful. How the scum would scream when it came time for the Seeker to collect his dues. Spitting towards the man, she threw an insult, "Oi, you there, god-forsaken bastard! How about you do be letting us out so as we can teach you a lesson o' your own?" Pressed up against the bars, she bared her teeth in a twisted smile at the soldier, hoping for him to respond. If she could just get those keys...

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard

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Waiting patiently just outside the stone walls of Halwall was Grand-Duke Aliger, and with him was a host of men numbering greater than twenty-thousand. The Grand-Duke smirked as he looked up at the battlements of Halwall and towards Lord Ulfric, who in a fit of rage and desperation was shouting unaudible threats at his foe. Threats or no, Ulfric knew there was nothing that could be done. He had been out played and all the world would soon know it if they did not already. After finishing his rant the disgruntled lord said a few words to his commander before disappearing back into the heart of Halwall, for the fighting would soon begin.

The plan that was now being enacted was one that took several weeks off careful planning and coordination by the Grand-Duke's agents. When word reached Grand-Duke Aliger that Ulfric was planning to dispose of the Watchers he knew his chance to strike a critical blow against his most powerful rival had come to fruition, so the Grand-Duke and his men bade their time until the last moment before striking. Aliger knew if Ulfric was planning to enact this plan he would do so at Halwall, and Aliger knew that he would bring few men to lure the Watchers into a false sense of peace. After the deed was done Ulfric's men would still be recovering from their figh, and it would be then Grand-Duke Aliger would strike.

Now was that time, as both of these military titans readied their men for the assault. Ulfric's men began to stirring all throughout the castle and below the walls Aliger and his army prepared for a siege. The experienced and well trained engineers of Aliger's forces had been preemptively preparing siege engines, and just as the Grand-Duke turned his back to Halwall castle to rejoin his men the first engine fired.



From the barks and hollers from those above the dungeon Robert knew what was coming, or at least had a good idea. He looked down the corridor towards the others but as it appeared no one knew what was happening, including the troublesome guard. Robert could hear one of the others throwing insults his way and perhaps that was the cause of his obliviousness to the situation, but whatever the cause its was truly a fortunate event. It was shortly thereafter that Robert's prediction of the outside events came to be when the siege engine's first fired shot slammed into the walls above sending a large tremor throwing the chamber the Watchers now resided in.

The guard had already been flustered due to the insults he had endured, and once that was combined with the empty wineskin around his belt and the shaking of the ground it had not taken much for him to fall forwarda into the bars off lady Mera's cell. That was the chance Robert had been hoping for.

"Quickly!" Robert cried out down the corridor. "Grab him! Grab him!"

This was a one time chance and he only hoped those residing in that destined cell could act fast enough to ensure their escape. Robert could do nothing but watch on, tortured with the thought that he should be the one doing this, however; with his arm in shambles he knew he could do nothing. It was up to them now, and with a little luck and favor from the gods perhaps they all might live another day.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard

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The guard stepped towards, enraged and flustered by the various insults that he had had to endure, not to mention being "commanded" by Merriwyn. As he drew near, the castle shook with the impact of the first siege engine's shoot. Stumbling into the bars of the cell, Mera drew back lightly so she would not be hit. Grabbing the man's head, she pushed it back, smiled...and proceeded to vigorously smash his skull into the bars. Screaming subsided as the man slumped, knocked unconscious by the vicious assault. Blood leaked from a crack in his head, but the man still breathed.

Kneeing the guard in the face through the bars one last time for good measure, she eased the man down to the floor before relieving him of his keys. "You do no be needing these anymore," she muttered. Extending her arms around, she inserted the keys into the lock before giving a sharp twist. A satisfying click emanated from the mechanism. Pushing the door open against the weight of the man, she darted out furtively.

Rushing to the cell occupied by Tevran and Merriwyn, she proceeded to unlock the door for the pair. "Free our Brothers and Sisters, I shall keep watch down the corridor." Handing the keys to one of the pair, she returned to where the guard lay and unbuckled his sword belt. Drawing out the standard blade, she give it a few swing for testing. She grimaced at the feel. It was nothing at all like the light, agile blades she favored. However, the clunky thing would have to do.

Walking quickly to the stairs, she took up position to prevent anyone from coming into the dungeon.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard

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As Merriwyn poured healing energy into Tevran's battered body he could feel himself getting better, and then watched in amazement as his wounds were tended, for in his experience the only healers he had met were hacksaws with needle and thread to sew the flesh back together. But it seemed to take a toll on the Elf, who after finishing seemed to sag a little, as if all her energy had left her, and she fell into the straw pile muttering phrases in elvish. Tevran gave a sad smile and said in his rumbling voice "My thanks Sister. Though I fear you healed me in vain, for I do believe we all have an appointment with our maker on the morrow." Merriwyn seemed oblivious though, probably because of the sheer amount of energy she had expended in such a short time, and thus Tevran turned his attention to outside the small cell, where another one of his Sisters was trying to get the guard riled up.

He smirked as the hapless guard endured a barrage of scathing insults, and then gave his first true smile since awakening as the whole cell block rocked as if hit by some terrible force causing the guard to stagger into Mera's cell where she quickly incapacitated him by slamming his not quite thick enough skull into the bars. She quickly stripped the keys from him and tossed them to Tevran, who deftly caught them and quickly unlocked his and Merriwyn's manacles. He threw a quick Thank you to Mera and turned towards Merriwyn.

"Can you move on your own, or do you need help? I can carry you if I must. Tis how I can begin repaying my debt."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell

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Merriwyn barely nodded her head in appreciation for Tevran's thanks, but her body could barely handle breathing let alone moving any part of her body. She has used her magic to treat serious wounds before but they have only ever been one person per hour, otherwise she'd seriously tire herself out as she just had, 2 people needing greater magic in the space of 20 minutes, she had exhausted herself and now was not the time for doing so.

Merriwyn felt the ground shake beneath her as she lay there, a feeling of dread washing over her as she lay on the hay. However, when she heard some sort of struggle and soon after the jingle of heavy keys, she looked at the doorway just as Mera appeared in it and unlocked the door for Tevran and Merriwyn.

Tevran knelt before Merriwyn and offered help to her, she looked up to him with a weak smile. "There is no debt between us, you need not worry about me." Merriwyn took a heavy breath and prepared to lift herself up. "Free the others, I will manage." She told him after finally rising, although she lent heavily against the wall.

Merriwyn slowly made her way down the corridor, each step heavier than the last, she eventually climbed the steps and met with Mera.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard

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Tevran acknowledged her refusal of help with a smile and remarked "May the Warden watch over you." And then turned towards the hallway, keys gripped in his hand. He walked out, and rushed from cell to cell unlocking them. Not only were the other Watchers released, but various other minor nobles and others who had displeased lord Ulfric. For the most part they were fairly ragged but if they were armed then mayhaps they could flank the guards and escape by seizing one of the gates.

"Alright all of you! This way! We need to find an armory of some kind to arm ourselves! The Divine are on our side! We shall not fail! The betrayer will fall, and burn in Oblivion forever! Our cause is righteous! Now forwards!" His voice boomed out in a way that made the former prisoners jump, and then start moving forward. Following them, Tevran strode forward confidently, gazing about for a sword he could use. For as the last of the order, they can't afford any more losses.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard

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Everything changed so suddenly...


It was safe to say that Catherine was inexperienced. She was but a Squire, one who's first taste of combat consisted of being trampled by her own friends and then captured by the enemy. She could not read, she could write letters...some words...not sentences, and she had never seen or heard what those mighty creations of War were capable of, what siege weapons could do. Unprepared for what came, the only thing that kept Catherine standing was the bars of her cell that she held on to. Her heart begun to pound against her ribs, Catherine was afraid and she didn't know exactly what was going on. The Lady Sergeant, Catherine had forgotten her name, was out of her cell. The Guard must've slammed his head into the bars and got knocked out, then she just took the keys from him. She freed those near her and one of them, another Watcher no less, went cell to cell, freeing everyone who was in the dungeon.

"Alright all of you! This way! We need to find an armory of some kind to arm ourselves! The Divine are on our side! We shall not fail! The betrayer will fall, and burn in Oblivion forever! Our cause is righteous! Now forward!"


It was odd. All the others did not hesitate for long to leave their cells and go forth. However, Catherine hesitated...and hesitated. [i]What good am I to them? I can't read...I can't write...I've never fought before...I'm more useful to the Watchers in here...I'm sure the Lieutenant Commander would...wait..Ser Robert!".

Catherine remembered hearing the Lieutenant Commander's voice and how he sounded. He did not sound like the man she had heard of, the man whom the Squires, through a series of exaggerated and far fetched rumors spread amongst themselves, had learned to adore and admire and respect. The Squire was sure that if the Watchers were to survive they would need a leader...and he was it. If his voice was anything to go off of, he was not doing well and would need assistance. She could be that assistance, she could do that much. "Sir!", she called out. "Commander! Where are you?".

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard

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#, as written by RCJJ23
Allen got up when the door was unlocked and walked past Tevran, muttering a thanks as he passed. He advanced past the prisoners and up the stairs past Mera when the door burst open. The guard there had his sword drawn, expecting trouble. What he didn't expect is trouble taking the form of a monstrous mountain of a man with the hand to hand skills to eliminate him as a threat.

It happened quickly, with Allen shoulder charging the man into the room behind the door. It was a small office, mostly for dealing with records and prisoners being put into the cells below, at least that was what Allen could see whilst he was carrying a grown man with only his shoulder. He thundered down the middle of the room, with the guard on his shoulder too shocked to do anything, before being slammed into the wall, the impact making him drop his sword. Then he was lifted up by Allen and slammed into a nearby desk. It was rotten, rickety old mess with it barely supporting the ledgers that were piled on top of it so it was no surprise that under the force of a man being slammed on to it that it gave way, not even breaking in half but shattering as the old wooden legs splintered and the top broke. The sound was negligible, especially in the cacophony of shouts and the sound of whatever siege engine's loads were slamming against the stone walls. So unless someone was right next to the door, the prisoners would remain undetected.

The guard however was still going, flailing his arms weakly at the towering shadow in front of him, though he couldn't reach and even if he could, his arms would have been broken. That was quickly rectified when Allen knocked him unconscious with a swift kick to the temple. He took the man's belt off and fixed it on himself before picking up the blade that had been on the floor and sheathed it, then he took a better look around the room. It was as it was before, albeit with a bit of redecoration in the form of a broken desk and an unconscious guard. He saw a sword rack, with only four more swords though it could hold more. Otherwise it was rather bare with two more similar desks and a bench. He picked up the swords in his arms and passed them on to any Watchers that wanted to take them before taking position beside the door leading out of the office and into Halwall Castle.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard

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Mera smiled as Merriwyn drew level with her. The elf seemed tired but enthusiastic to be free. They all were, if in different manners. "It do feel good to be out o' them cells, Mera said, leaning against the wall in a position of rest. She still had not recovered fully from the healing and other injuries plagued fer still. That did not mean she was not ready to strike, however.

Looking down the stairwell as Tevran began organizing the escapees, she was pleased by the chaotic order that had come out of it. No structure was visibly present in the group and not everyone knew each other, but the simple goal of escaping held them together in a bond. If not for the entire escape, at least for now.

A bang shot throughout the dungeon as the door behind Mera slammed open revealing a guard with sword drawn. Before she could react, Allen, who had drawn past her, barreled into the man, carrying both of them into the next room. The fight was over as quickly as it had begun, Allen swiftly rendering the guard unconscious. Following him through the door, Mera saw him gather up the swords and distribute them to the rest of the Watchers. Deciding she had a few moments to spare while everyone organized themselves in the office, Mera began rummaging through the desk. Most of the papers were simple orders on what to do with certain prisoners or transfers, but one or two letters seemed more important from the brief glance she spared everything. Picking up three letters, she secured them in the belt of her pants as she had no other place to store them in.

Moving over to the door leading outside of the office and into the rest of the complex, she eased the frame open and peeked outside. There was no one in the immediate vicinity but shouts could be heard in the distance. Rubble lay scattered throughout the corridor, some pieces small while others were fairly large, about the size of a man's chest. Whoever was attacking must have come prepared for such an undertaking for the castle to be attacked so quickly.

A rage seized her as she once again thought about the massacre that had occurred not too far from here. So many friends that she would never see again simply because one man saw them as a threat. Knuckles turned white from the pressure she was exerting on the sword hilt, hurting her hand due to the tightness of the grip. One man was responsible for this. Mera would not suffer him live.

Facing the rest of the group, she called out to the nearest Watchers, "I do be having some business to take care of. If you do escape, I shall find you. May the gods protect you." With that, Mera began loping off into the rest of the castle, searching for one man. Ulfric Ducant. Whoever survived this day, he would not be one of them for she was a herald of the Seeker. She was Death.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard

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Merriwyn stood in horror as the guard opened the door, Mera was her only protection and she was just as frozen in shock as Merriwyn, but within seconds a tower of a man ran through and tackled the guard and the pair went right through another door behind him. With a sigh of relief, Merriwyn made her way into the first room, scanning the surroundings for a chest, maybe the gaolers had stored their confiscated goods in here, but Merriwyn had no such luck and when they moved into the next room, her luck was just as low.

Merriwyn lent against a wall, her body still drained from using her magic too much. She bowed her head in thanks to her saviour, but just as she was about to rest a little more, Mera ran off on her own and Merriwyn tried to chase after her, to stop her from leaving. "Mera, no!" She cried out after her, reaching out as if to grab her but she fell to the floor, letting out a cry of pain as she hit the hard stone floor. She pulled herself up from the dirt, weakly steadying herself on the frame of the door. She took in a few heavy breaths as she watched Mera get smaller as she get further away.

As Merriwyn watched, she remembered the scroll she was sworn to protect. "Oh gods no." She exclaimed to herself, she had to get the scroll back, before it fell into the hands of someone who could wield the ancient magic contained in its letters. If it was still in the hold, it may be destroyed unless the ancient wards hadn't worn off, and if it was outside the hold, no doubt it was on its way to being translated and studied. She quickly went back to check the ledgers and see if there was any mention of the scroll, the gods favoured her and it seemed the scroll was being sent to being studied, ripping the page from the book, she put it in her sleeve pocket and waited on the others.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard

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Merriwyn watched as Tevran led the battle, she with a few other prisoners who were in no way capable of fighting, remained in the small office, after Mera had run, Alcuin cam up beside her and informed her of his intentions, Merriwyn didn't want anyone to separate from the party at all but at least Mera wouldn't be alone if Alcuin went after her.
"Of course, thank you, Alcuin." Merriwyn looked to the people she was in the office with, a mixture of nobles and beggars alike. Merriwyn was confused as to why noblemen and women were locked up with the beggars, but did not ask, she merely clung to the door frame and watched as Tevran led the charge.

With the courtyard cleared, Merriwyn informed the others and they made there way out into the courtyard, she grabbed a dagger from the body of one of Ulfric's men and turned to the others. "I suggest you grab a weapon too, we cannot have the others doing all the fighting and having to worry about us." She ordered them, the beggars eagerly picked up a weapon whilst the nobles seemed hesitant, but Merriwyn had no patience. "I will not have my brothers and sisters sacrifice our freedom because you could not weild a weapon yourself." Merriwyn had little patience for nobles and their snobbery at the moment.

Merriwyn caught up to the Lieutenant-Commander. "Lord Turya! Lady Mera has went after Ulfric and Alcuin has went after her." Merriwyn informed him, with a bow of her head to show respect to the Lieutenant-Commander. "May the gods guide them."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard

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The surge of men howling for vengeance swept into the courtyard, with the knight Tevran at the forefront. The guards, whose focus had been on the outside looking at the marching army only watched in shock at the prison riot. A few tried to move forward to engage the mostly weaponless prisoners, but Tevran casually swept aside their feeble attempts to fight with swift parries and brutal thrusts of his blade. Blood spattered all across the rough stones of the courtyard, and screams of agony began to fill the air to go with the grunts and wordless panting of men locked in mortal combat. And still the booming of the siege engines' constant bombardment continued, pounding against the old stones of the fortress. Tevran was locked in a brutal fight with the captain of the guard, a grizzled middle aged sergeant with close cut hair who made short economic chops with a hand axe while blocking Tevran's cuts and thrusts with a stout shield. "You should have given up and died with the rest of your treasonous comrades! It would have been quick at least!" The captain snarled out between gritted teeth.

Tevran growled out "It is not treason to rid the nation of your heresy" and then batted aside the axe and drove his blade through the captain's throat and into his skull. A look of shock struck the man's face as he fell over. Tevran flicked the blood away, and then looked around. About half of the escapees were dead, but the rest had picked up weapons and were fighting. Meanwhile, soldiers were pouring through a breach made by the siege weapons and cutting through the few guards standing.