Fall, 1335
Twenty days later, taking the old Imperial express relays, Roh found himself back in Graustmere.
News of their defense of Rocky Face Ridge had spread up and down Tassure: Lord Thorkell was not just another up-jumped Bey, but a true defender of the Northlands. The captain returned with his diminished force to find that though NeoTassure had lost the Northern Foothills to Lord Bazyir, it had consolidated the Southern coasts and fresh recruits had more than doubled the size of the army.
Returning straight from the field, Roh marched up in his battered and dirt-caked armor and saluted his lord and friend.
‘Eroland is lost.’ The captain stated without preamble.
Lord Thorkell simply nodded. ‘Pity. As was feared.’
‘Our men fought well and died with honor.’ Rohs continued, moving to warm his hands by the brazier blazing nearby. ‘The Erolanders fought well. But that was not enough. The Normad troops are good fighters and fight with the ferocity of two Auxians. In every battle the Stanton Dragon rained destruction upon our forces.’
‘The Plague-giver has powerful allies.’
‘There are talks that as soon as the Normad has consolidated his rule, he will be returning to the mainland. There is talk already of a fleet being built to invade Samarra.’
The NeoTassurian Lord stopped and looked at his friend. After a brief pause, Thorkell sighed. ‘He moves fast then.’
The Tassurian leader thought for a bit.
‘The key to the Normad Lord are those friends of his. Find your best spies. Neutralize Gremenal’s Bane and his rider.’
***
With the surrender of Karrensa all of Eroland had officially fallen to Lord de Trobliand. Renegade bands of Other Men still resisted in scattered pockets around the island, but they fought without hope and without future. Most islanders simply sighed and accepted the new order of things.
The ceremony occurred ten days later in the Black Citadel of Karrensa, where de Trobliand, still clad in his mud splattered and blood-stained field coat from the Race to the Strait, sat on the limestone Uisnigh Throne and received the Iron Crown of Eroland from the Patriarch. All around were officers of the Normad army, as well as the high and low lords of Eroland, the heads of the guilds, wealthy merchants, mayors, governors and clergy, both human and Other Man. Now that the war was decided and Eroland wrestled away from the ruins of the Tassurian Empire, the locals came out to at least give their nominal support to the new ruler.
Logan and Mera, clad in the ceremonial garb of Erolander knight and mount, stood by watching the proceedings in a place of honor just to the front right of the throne. With golden tassels draped upon his coat and over Mera’s body, as well as blue roc feathers atop his helm and on Mera’s head, the Forester thought the both of them looked ridiculous. Still the Normad lord had insisted on following the traditions of the old kings of the island, so Logan simply folded his arms and tried to look nice.
Lord Regis de Trobliand was positively resplendent, stern and determined, grasping the Scepter of Hibernia in one hand and the Iron Sword of An Luc in the other, a leader of men and Other Men. No one questioned that he looked like a king. Logan did wonder whether Lord de Trobliand kept wearing his campaign-worn coat for the ceremony (and also his repeating crossbow by his side) to display before the onlookers the lightning success of his recent victory, or simply because he liked wearing it.
The aged Other Man known as the Patriarch, head of the churches and religious orders of the island, gently placed the Iron Crown upon the Normad’s head, and in doing so gave his assent to the Normad’s control over the freshly independent kingdom.
‘By placing this crown upon the head of head of Lord Regis de Trobliand of Normad I do proclaim the Plague-giver as the new sovereign of Eroland! Long live the king!’ He solemnly announced, before repeating himself -slightly differently- in Auxian: "By placing this crown upon the head of Lord Regis de Trobliand of Normad I do proclaim the Son of the Nomad Kingdom as the new King of Eroland! Long live the king!"
“Long live the king!”
‘Long live the king!’
The chant echoed through the hallways.
Logan chanted the phrase as well, and Mera roared in acknowledgement, adding to the general cacophony of the proceedings.
After a few minutes, King Regis de Trobliand, King of Eroland and Lord of Normad, stood up, silencing the crowd.
“I declare this the land the new Kingdom of Normad North!" The new liege announced. "Freed from the yoke of Tassurian oppression, we will forge a new land, where human and Other Men can live together and where order and prosperity rule supreme!”
Then to the shock of many, including the Patriarch, who blanched in the background, King Regis de Trobliand repeated things-slightly differently- in Trasgu:
‘I declare this the land the new Kingdom of Normad North! From your barbarous ways, we will forge a new land, where human and Other Men can live together and where order and prosperity rule supreme!’
The cheers started again, if slightly awkwardly than before. As the din roared on, Logan took off his helm and rested it within his crossed arms. Mera leaned over to the Forester, the feathers on the wyrm’s head waving by the motion.
“So your debt to your friend is finally paid off right?”
Logan nodded. “I’d say this is enough.”
“Good.”
Henry Purcell - March from "Music for the funeral of Queen Mary"
Courtesy of theroguez! With some additional human work by myself.
Twenty days later, taking the old Imperial express relays, Roh found himself back in Graustmere.
News of their defense of Rocky Face Ridge had spread up and down Tassure: Lord Thorkell was not just another up-jumped Bey, but a true defender of the Northlands. The captain returned with his diminished force to find that though NeoTassure had lost the Northern Foothills to Lord Bazyir, it had consolidated the Southern coasts and fresh recruits had more than doubled the size of the army.
Returning straight from the field, Roh marched up in his battered and dirt-caked armor and saluted his lord and friend.
‘Eroland is lost.’ The captain stated without preamble.
Lord Thorkell simply nodded. ‘Pity. As was feared.’
‘Our men fought well and died with honor.’ Rohs continued, moving to warm his hands by the brazier blazing nearby. ‘The Erolanders fought well. But that was not enough. The Normad troops are good fighters and fight with the ferocity of two Auxians. In every battle the Stanton Dragon rained destruction upon our forces.’
‘The Plague-giver has powerful allies.’
‘There are talks that as soon as the Normad has consolidated his rule, he will be returning to the mainland. There is talk already of a fleet being built to invade Samarra.’
The NeoTassurian Lord stopped and looked at his friend. After a brief pause, Thorkell sighed. ‘He moves fast then.’
The Tassurian leader thought for a bit.
‘The key to the Normad Lord are those friends of his. Find your best spies. Neutralize Gremenal’s Bane and his rider.’
***
With the surrender of Karrensa all of Eroland had officially fallen to Lord de Trobliand. Renegade bands of Other Men still resisted in scattered pockets around the island, but they fought without hope and without future. Most islanders simply sighed and accepted the new order of things.
The ceremony occurred ten days later in the Black Citadel of Karrensa, where de Trobliand, still clad in his mud splattered and blood-stained field coat from the Race to the Strait, sat on the limestone Uisnigh Throne and received the Iron Crown of Eroland from the Patriarch. All around were officers of the Normad army, as well as the high and low lords of Eroland, the heads of the guilds, wealthy merchants, mayors, governors and clergy, both human and Other Man. Now that the war was decided and Eroland wrestled away from the ruins of the Tassurian Empire, the locals came out to at least give their nominal support to the new ruler.
Logan and Mera, clad in the ceremonial garb of Erolander knight and mount, stood by watching the proceedings in a place of honor just to the front right of the throne. With golden tassels draped upon his coat and over Mera’s body, as well as blue roc feathers atop his helm and on Mera’s head, the Forester thought the both of them looked ridiculous. Still the Normad lord had insisted on following the traditions of the old kings of the island, so Logan simply folded his arms and tried to look nice.
Lord Regis de Trobliand was positively resplendent, stern and determined, grasping the Scepter of Hibernia in one hand and the Iron Sword of An Luc in the other, a leader of men and Other Men. No one questioned that he looked like a king. Logan did wonder whether Lord de Trobliand kept wearing his campaign-worn coat for the ceremony (and also his repeating crossbow by his side) to display before the onlookers the lightning success of his recent victory, or simply because he liked wearing it.
The aged Other Man known as the Patriarch, head of the churches and religious orders of the island, gently placed the Iron Crown upon the Normad’s head, and in doing so gave his assent to the Normad’s control over the freshly independent kingdom.
‘By placing this crown upon the head of head of Lord Regis de Trobliand of Normad I do proclaim the Plague-giver as the new sovereign of Eroland! Long live the king!’ He solemnly announced, before repeating himself -slightly differently- in Auxian: "By placing this crown upon the head of Lord Regis de Trobliand of Normad I do proclaim the Son of the Nomad Kingdom as the new King of Eroland! Long live the king!"
“Long live the king!”
‘Long live the king!’
The chant echoed through the hallways.
Logan chanted the phrase as well, and Mera roared in acknowledgement, adding to the general cacophony of the proceedings.
After a few minutes, King Regis de Trobliand, King of Eroland and Lord of Normad, stood up, silencing the crowd.
“I declare this the land the new Kingdom of Normad North!" The new liege announced. "Freed from the yoke of Tassurian oppression, we will forge a new land, where human and Other Men can live together and where order and prosperity rule supreme!”
Then to the shock of many, including the Patriarch, who blanched in the background, King Regis de Trobliand repeated things-slightly differently- in Trasgu:
‘I declare this the land the new Kingdom of Normad North! From your barbarous ways, we will forge a new land, where human and Other Men can live together and where order and prosperity rule supreme!’
The cheers started again, if slightly awkwardly than before. As the din roared on, Logan took off his helm and rested it within his crossed arms. Mera leaned over to the Forester, the feathers on the wyrm’s head waving by the motion.
“So your debt to your friend is finally paid off right?”
Logan nodded. “I’d say this is enough.”
“Good.”
Henry Purcell - March from "Music for the funeral of Queen Mary"
Courtesy of theroguez! With some additional human work by myself.
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Western Dragon
Gender Male
Size 1147 x 985px
noo, its a big honor to be the mount of a knight. Of couse you have to wear something nice
Unless there is historical precedent for dragons being used as mounts, I can imagine that a dragon might think it rather undignified to be dressed like a horse.
Or just undignified to be dressed in human things in general.
Or just undignified to be dressed in human things in general.
Lol. Well he has to be at the ceremony, and they have to figure out some way of dressing him up...
Thanks! Though my dragon isn't going to be caught wearing that outfit again lol.
Huh, when I first looked at this I had wondered if RayJ drew the human. The way she drew the dragon's plume of feathers makes him look cute, though I can understand it's a look he doesn't want to give.
Lol yah human's my own art lol (after I passed it by RayJ). The dragon's costume I think was based on Persian ceremonial horse garb.
Ah. I should also mention, Logan's well drawn and fits in coherently with her drawing, and it's interesting to see your interpretation of the character you've built up in writing.
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