Young Writers Society

TATHIEL

I exited the stables, wiping my hands on an old white rag. It was my day to muck out the stalls, which I really didn't mind much considering I liked horses. Talon's tongue hung out of his mouth like a dog's and I arched an eyebrow at the jaguar. He always had been a bit of an odd one. "Going canine on me are you Talon?" I asked before starting to whistle to myself.

After I was done here, I would go see Ceria in the palace. She was out riding now, but she'd be back sooner or later.

Talon's tongue was back in his mouth suddenly, tail twitching nervously. I heard hoofebeats and looked up from my cat-turned-canine to see Ceria's horse galloping towards me full speed. Without Ceria. The horse slowed, breathing heavily. He was sketchy, eyes darting every which way. I stroked the creature's nose, suddenly terrified.

"Where's Ceria?" I hissed, half expecting the horse to answer before realizing that I must have gone mad for thinking such things.

I lead the horse back to the stables, deep in thought. Where was Ceria? Panick was settling in and I quickly placed the horse back in his stall without removing his equipment. I latched the gate closed and sprinted to the palace, Talon at my heels. She's alright, she can't be gone... She's capable...

can I join with a male Neserada? I'll make my profile later because right now I'm on vacation and I'm leaving to go to a water park.

It was a beautiful day in Neserada, as always. Ghia was proud of his kingdom, but who wouldn't be? They were a happy and prosperous country, one to most certainly be admired. His people were stirring around, busying themselves for the mid-day meal. His servants were setting food upon his large dining table, as he waited patiently for his friends to arrive. Ghia had invited almost all of his counsel men to this meal, just for friendly chatter. His son and daughter were off in the kingdom, minding their own or what ever children do these days. He had no fear for them, for his people loved them, and they were well trained in the arts of defense.

His dining table had been set quite beautifully, roasted pigs and chickens set out every where, goblets of red wine and fruits. His counsel men were starting to file in, waving a friendly hello to the king and taking their places amongst his table. It was a lovely thing to watch, as jesters followed behind them. A small band started playing in the corner of the room, the lovely sounds of a harp gracing their ears as they enjoyed the meal. King Ghia rose from his seat, and raised his goblet high in the air.

"Counsel men, I thank thee for enjoying this wondrous meal that mine own servants hath placed upon this table. The--"

The King's speech was cut short, by some one bursting into the room. It was Tathiel, keeper of the royal stables.
"My king! I feel most sorry to interrupt, but the matter is urgent! Ceria's horse hath returned, but Ceria herself is not upon it. The horse hath returned with frightful eyes and worried demeanor. I fear she has been abducted!"

There was a quick intake of breath amongst the counsel men, a gasp of surprise. They all turned to the king, whose face was red as the apples upon his table. With furrowed brows and clenched teeth, he slammed his goblet down to the table.

"We will not stand for this!No one takes my beloved daughter from me! Guards! Assemble your men and search the forest. Tathiel, ready the horses for my men." Tathiel nodded, and headed back to the stables. Ghia turned and headed out of the room, with the menace of a snake upon him.

Joram
The evening sun was painting the castle in shades of saffron and crimson and throwing their shadows across the courtyard, the old stones. Waiting grated, but there was enough anticipation in this particular occurence that he could keep himself still long enough, only minutely moving every now and then to pull at the lapels of his tunic or at a sleeve.

A call from the gates drew everyone's attention, and he straightened. Finally.

Joram's eyes narrowed when the soldiers that had been sent to retrieve the Neserada princess appeared, and his lips twisted in a moue of disapproval when he saw the state they'd left her in - a torn dress, bruises... Not very professional of them. A common criminal could have done better. A glance to the left showed his king was not pleased either, though he was, as usual, reserved about it, and that most of all, he decided, would not do. An unhappy ruler affected everything, and Joram liked things as they were right now.

"You were told not to hurt her." He'd taken a step forward as the soldiers themselves drew to a stop before them, tone conversational and eyes calm. They shared an uneasy look, shrugged. "Saved trouble this way. She tried to run."

Joram didn't deign to grace that with a reply. "Remove the gag and untie her, will you?"

He shifted to face the king, giving in to one of his more theatrical impulses: an arm rising in a grand gesture that encompassed the unconscious girl, the soldiers easing her down from the horse; his eyes glinted green with mirth, excitement and something a little darker as they met Tigad's, - "Your queen, Your Majesty."

And with that queen... He fancied he could almost hear a thundering of hooves in the distance, and smiled to himself. An end to the boredom, at the very least.

Kai

I pushed up with my foot, using my free arm to latch onto another limb. Another boost, and... aha! I was up.

Climbing trees was the one thing about being raised in a family of males that I didn't mind that much. I loved it, in fact. A way to escape cries of "Kai, would you challenge him, please?" and "Loru! Show this one your full body flip!" No one could find me here, and as this particular tree was right near the palace gates, I had a great view of what went on there.

A view that showed a young girl, beaten with her dress torn, being hauled in. For a moment, I caught a glimpse of her face, and gasped slightly.

The princess of Neserada.

He's finally done it. Our king has finally decided he's had enough.

Blast him.

We were just starting to establish relations with others, get back on our feet. Just starting, mind you, but starting nevertheless. And yet he wanted the princess of our rival.

Oh, wasn't this just SPLENDID.

Tigad

The king stepped forward to inspect his future queen, brushing the hair out of her face to get a better look at her. Without the large bruise marring her face, the Neresadian princess would have been quite lovely. As it was, however, the blow to her temple had glanced off her cheek, swelling it and turning it an ugly purplish color in the few hours since.

Tigad couldn't help the slight darkening of his countenance as he saw the damage, and his tone was more terse than normal as he ordered, "Take her to her rooms, and see to it that a physician attends to her."

"Of course, Your Majesty." The soldiers hurried off to deposit the unconscious princess in the rooms that had been carefully prepared for her. Expensively furnished and fully staffed as they were, the king doubted the Neseradian princess would be appreciative of the comforts after such a brutal abduction.

"I trust you will deal with them appropriately, Joram," Tigad said, turning to his general, trying but failing to keep the anger out of his voice.

"I will, Your Majesty."

"Good. Monitor her, and send for me when she awakens. I will be in my study, looking over battle plans." With that, the king of Acoteg turned away and re-entered his castle.

Built into the side of a mountain, the citadel of Gor Nathal surveyed the large plain. The inhabitants had recently deposed their old leader with the help of Marlon Grey and his team of mercenaries, known as the Grey Ghosts. In turn, Marlon became their leader. For the last year, Marlon had supervised the rebuilding of his mercenaries and their new home. After decades of neglect, Gor Nathal had updated their defenses and would be quite formidable in battle.

He invited other mercenary groups to make Gor Nathal their home and some even agreed. Despite the large number of disreputable people, the city had one of the lowest crime rates. The fact that the Grey Ghosts was in charge of maintaining law and order helped; but Marlon suspected it also had something to do with the fact that everyone was armed to the teeth. Pinching a bar maiden's bottom could mean losing a hand. Whatever the reason, the city and the surrounding regions were remarkably peaceful.

Which was exactly the problem. Their primary stock in trade was mercenaries; but since the great peace between the Harden's and the Dorals, there hadn't been much demand for mercenaries. Rebuilding the city and his mercenaries had been quite costly and the sudden onset of the "Great Peace" was devastating. Marlon had six months of cash remaining; after that his organization would have to close down. Marlon didn't waste time wondering what happen to him after six months. All this ran through his mind as he sat at his desk; looking at the latest set of bills that needed to be paid.

There was a shout outside and Marlon instinctively reached for his sword, but checked his action when he recognized the sound of Howl.

"Commander! COMMANDER!" he shouted, before bursting through the door. Even though Howl was his right hand man, he still seemed to insist on calling him by his rank instead of his title.

"What is it Howl?" Marlon said. He hadn't seen him this excited since their victory at Gor Nathal.

"Our agents have just reported that Princess Ceria of Neserada has been kidnapped by agents of King Tigad of Acoteg." Marlon sat at his chair, stunned.

"How long ago did this happen?"

"Two days, we just got word of it over the mirrors."

"We haven't much time to lose. I need Baxter, Thomas, Howie, and Virgil in here now. Would you mind sending the signals?" Marlon said.

Ceria

My head was killing me. What a strange dream... of course though, I would never let that happen. I groaned, my headache getting worse. I could hear the slurred sound of people talking around me. I sat up, slowly opening my eyes. My heart raced, this wasn't my room. These weren't the servants I knew and trusted and why was my dress torn up? I glanced over at one servant, who ran from the room. It wasn't a dream. It really happened, or was I still dreaming. I grinned and pinched myself really hard, wincing. Oh no! It was real, I felt myself break out in a nervous sweat. How could I let this happen?

I flung my legs over the side of the bed, almost hitting someone.
"Your majesty, please calm down!" I would most certainly not calm down. This wasn't good, not at all! I pushed the servant out of the way and ran from the room. My feet were bare, but it didn't matter to me. Right now my main focus was to get out of there. I heard someone following me.
"Your majesty please! Come back!" I turned my head, looking back at the female servant who chased after me.
"Leave me alone!" I yelled back. Just as I turned my head I ran right into someone, forcing me to fall back. Three men stood in front of me. One was the servant who had run out earlier, another looked to be a warrior, maybe even general. The third was Unmistakable, he was the king of Acoteg. I scowled at him. This obviously wasn't good, at all.

Tigad

"Leave me alone!" was all the king heard before a blur of torn dress and tangled hair ran into him. Fortunately for him, Tigad had braced himself at the shout, and so didn't topple over into an heap on the floor, the princess on top of him. That would have been most undignified (and unkingly).

He grabbed the woman by the shoulders, not roughly, but firm enough that she wouldn't be able to wriggle free, and found himself regarding the Neseradian princess. She was awake and alert, at least, though her current scowl could curdle milk and make children cry.

"Princess Ceria, you should not be up and about. You have had a very trying day, and," he said, looking her over; she was extremely disheveled, barefoot, and on the brink of panic, "running around in such a state of dress is most improper."

Tigad was so taken by surprise by her slap that he let go of Ceria's shoulders and stepped back -- a lucky thing, too, for the princess had pulled out a dagger and taken a swipe at him. As it was, the blade only grazed his arm rather than biting deeply.

Ceria backed away, the dagger held in front of her like a shield. "Why am I here? Why have you taken me?" she demanded, eyes darting between Tigad, Joram, and the servant; she looked to be on the brink of tears.

Tigad ignored the burning of the scratch on his arm and waved Joram to release his hold on his weapon. "Princess Ceria," he began, taking a slow step forward, his hands held out open to his sides, "we mean you no harm." A truth. "In fact, we rescued you from some mercenaries as they crossed our borders on the way to Gor Nathal." A lie, but a necessary one if she was to come to trust him.

"Mercenaries?" Ceria wavered, her knife hand drooping as Tigad stepped closer.

"Yes, Princess, mercenaries. Now, you have had a very trying day, and you are injured; you should be resting." Tigad was beside her now, hand out to receive the knife. "Hand me the knife, and we will forget this ever happened."

With shaking hands, Ceria handed him the knife, which Tigad quickly handed off to Joram before holding his arms out to support the trembling princess. She looked to be on the brink of collapse, her fear and anxiety the only things keeping her on her feet.

"Now, Princess," the king said, as soothingly as possible as he moved closer to Ceria, until he was supporting most of her weight, "let us go back to your rooms."

Ceria nodded shakily, and they made their slow, staggering way back to her rooms, Joram and the servant that had fetched him close behind. At the door to the Ceria's suite, the servants took the exhausted princess from the king and quickly busied themselves by bustling around to make her as comfortable as possible. Once he was certain Ceria had settled in, Tigad closed the door and turned to his general after dismissing the servant to his duties.

"I want a full guard placed around her at all times. I do not want another repeat of this escapade."

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

"Also, Joram, I want to maintain this story about mercenaries for as long as possible. Ensure the guards who are assigned to her are aware of it."

Joram nodded, as benignly unreadable as always. "And what of your arm?"

"Only a scratch. I'll have it seen to in a moment."

"Very well, then," said Joram, and he departed with a bow.

Shortly after, Tigad left to find a physician.

Howell

"We haven't much time to lose. I need Baxter, Thomas, Howie, and Virgil in here now. Would you mind sending the signals?" Marlon asked, eyes glittering with interest. I knew about the money situation - or at least, I knew as much as I needed to. The Princess' abduction would likely cause a stir. One we would be able to benefit from.

"Yessir!" I replied, turning and rushing back out of the building. A messenger stood near the door, waiting just as I had instructed. He glanced up as I exited, and I motioned for him to follow as words began pouring from my mouth in an almost frantic stream.

"You're to go to the southern gate of the city and get word to Battalion Leader Thomas that Commander Marlon requests his presence immediately. This is of dire importance, so go with haste!"

The young man nodded once and scampered away, turning a sharp corner and disappearing from sight. Knowing that the message would be delivered quickly, I pulled my mirror out of its holder strapped to my hip and pointed it towards the north, where Baxter's battalion was located, using the sun to flash the same message that I had just sent the messenger away with. I waited a few moments, eyes straining - ah, there it was.

I'm coming. Baxter.

Satisfied with the answer, I repeated the same process twice - once to the east, and once to the west. Both Howie and Virgil responded immediately with answers much the same as Baxter's. With a grin I turned and reentered the building behind me, making my way back to Commander Marlon.

"They're on their way, sir."

King Ghia paced hurriedly, the silence stretching out behind him. Anxiously, a crowd of counsel men, nobles, and politicians sat quietly in the king's meeting hall. Two days had passed, and he was still gathering his thoughts, as well as his army. Men from throughout his kingdom and come forth to offer their assistance in the return of his beloved daughter. Now, many of them waited here for the king's orders.

The king came to a slow halt, and addressed his men, "Princess Ceria is of strong body and mind. I do not fear that she has given in to her abductors, who I am most positive is the king of Acoteg. For many years, this man, King Tigad, has rivaled our country's prosperity and well-being. It is also in mine beliefs that he would not harm my daughter. His plans are far more clever than that. He is wise with many tricks, and he is most certainly not a man of ignorance. Tathiel?"

"Yes, your highness?" Tathiel stood, and bowed at the waist. He was allowed here because the king knew of his affections for the princess, and his loyalty.

"Send your Talon into the woods for any trace of mine daughter, for we still do not know where she is hidden. Have you readied the horses for my men?"

"Yes, your highness. I shall go with Talon to search for her, unless you should wish otherwise?"

King Ghia looked at the boy with saddened eyes, "If that is what you wish, but if you have any findings, report them to me, personally, before you commence in anything else. Go with haste."

Tathiel nodded, and headed out the door. Ghia turned his attention back to the meeting. Many sat quietly, some spoke softly to each other, whispering their own opinions to the men around them. When Ghia's attention returned to them, they silenced themselves.

"Men, nobles, politicians... Mine own dear child has been abducted. I will not allow this to go any further. I fear that I must resort to measures unimaginable." There was a stir in the crowd, and everyone was now obviously uncomfortable. They knew what the king was going to suggest.

"I will send a messenger to Gor Nathal..." there was a quick intake of breath, "...And speak to their leaders. I am most positive that they are well aware of the situation by now, and feel that they will benefit from this. We are a prosperous kingdom, so we will use that to our advantage."

The king sat amongst them, elbows on the table, hands entwined in front of him. "For now, we will wait. The messenger has already been dispatched."

Fanchon

What is happening? I have no purpose without my Ceria - I want my Ceria back! Tired, I flit wearily around a window of the unfamiliar castle. So far, I haven't found my Ceria. She's somewhere here I know it! I saw the men take her here and followed them the entire way, not stopping for a single mouse. Okay, to be honest I did stop for a mouse, but I was hungry. Now I'm thirsty and tired and I'm worried about my Ceria. I'm awfully tired.

After deciding I can't rescue my Ceria without rest, I perch on the roof and tuck my beak into my feathers. Wait until those men get a piece of me...they don't know what they're dealing with! They haven't seen my wrath! Soon enough they'll see what they're up against, and give her over without fight. I'm sure of it...

Name: Trake

Age: 17

Country: Neserada

Appearance: http://s.chakpak.com/se_images/905499_- ... lpaper.jpg


Personality: Trake is a fun-loving guy, but he is always serious during battle. He can make friends with anybody except the general. No one knows why, but they just don't get along (if that's ok with you isha)

History: Trake's older brother was a spy for Acteg, because of that the war council doesn't trust him, and many think that he was in with his brother. So he had to work extra hard to earn their trust and become a warrior. He's only been a warrior for a couple of weeks.

Trake never knew his parents, but he's told that his dad and the king were good friends. He was placed in the care of his older brother (who he hates).

Strengths: Stealth, he can sneak up on anybody with out a sound, because of this he's one of the best scouts in the army.

Weaknesses: He's an extreme dare devil, and so he does things that get him hurt and in trouble.

Up for love: yes

Other: He's best at hand-to-hand combat. And he prefers to use his daggers (which are hidden in his boots)

The Commanders were all gathered in Marlon's office.

""We've just received word that Princess Ceria of Neserada has been kidnapped by King Tigad of Acoteg. There is a strong possibility that war will break out between these two nations. I need to know everything about what is going on in these two nations. Lieutenant Conner, go ahead with your briefing.

The briefing took an hour as Lt. Conner discussed the finer details of the strategic and tactical dispositions of both sides.

"Acoteg is prepared for war and has about twice the forces of Neserada, but it is in pretty bad financial state after the last war they had. Neserada isn't nearly as prepared, but they've got quite a few resources to work with."

"How likely are they to strike a peace accord?" Baxter asked.

"Princess Ceria was set to marry General Tathiel. It is unlikely that he'll give her up without a fight. If they assassinate him and consent to the marriage, then both nations would be much stronger. However, Neserada isn't likely to do that. They fought against Acoteg in the last war," Lt. Conner said.

"King Tigad didn't have King Ghia's daughter during the last war. Between seeing his daughter marry Tigad and her being killed, I think Ghia would probably choose the marriage. He might try to get her back using a special forces unit, but if that fails he won't have much of a choice," Howie said.

"Unless we run our own special forces mission first. If we can get our hands on Ceria, we can eliminate any leverage she would have given Tigad, before the Neseradans consent to the marriage," Howl said.

"It would also transfer that leverage over to us. We could ransom her and then have both sides bid on her. It would make us rich and deal with the conflict with a minimal amount of casualties, assuming they keep to their word and don't try to invade us after the transaction has been made. You mentioned a special forces mission?" Marlon said.

"If we knew where the princess was being kept, we could raid the building and exit with the princess; but the window of opportunity is very tight. We might only have five minutes to pull it all off and there are a lot of unknowns. We'd need to run some recon work first," Howl responded.

"I know the perfect man for the job," Marlon said. "Me."

Emilian (Profile, because you guys might not have seen it in the DT)

On days like these Emilian really wished he didn't have to wear a white uniform.

The sun blazed so brightly everything was bathed in a golden light, even himself. He would appear so much more presentable, though, if there wasn't blood spattered on his uniform. Training new recruits could be such a pain sometimes, especially when one was under Joram's program.

The soldiers all saluted him as he passed by, and Emilian gave each one a smile and a friendly salute. No need for them to be so uptight. He didn't mind, really. He wondered if the king would mind, though, if he showed up to the throne room all bloody and dirty. He grit his teeth.

Didn't matter what the king would think. Joram needed him to deal with something, so Emilian had to hurry. He quickened his pace, trying to get to the throne room as fast as possible without alerting the other soldiers to his hurry. They might wonder why he was pressed for time, and he didn't want them asking questions. Not when it wasn't time yet. They would know, as soon as Joram decided it was time for them to. As of the moment, Emilian had to keep this a secret. Let Joram unveil it to the soldiers.

Just then, someone burst out of the throne room in giddy haste, crashing into Emilian and knocking the brown-haired general to the floor. Emilian sat still, surprised at the person who came out of the throne room without warning. It was Joram, and his eyes gleamed. Perhaps it was excitement, or maybe it was simply today's weather. Emilian couldn't be sure.

"Joram?" Emilian asked, picking himself off the floor. "Is something going on? You called for me."