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“The nights are cold here...â€says Brood, as he adds more wood to the fire. “Yes they are…“adds a hulking figure wearing a fur cape sitting to his left. Nothing like the old lands, aye...“mumbles another scared Exile veteran, fire dancing in his blue cold eye, his other lost long time ago in a battle long forgotten. The three of them sitting there, staring at the dancing flames and remembering the days of old glory, silence only broken by the cracking of fire and waves clashing at the cliffs and fortifications of their new homeland.

With a smirk on his face and his need for warmth satisfied Brood mumbled to the other two “Well ladies, it is getting late and I do need my beauty sleep, I wonder who is on patrol duty tonight…â€. “Wipe that smile off your ugly face†said the hulking giant figure as he was picking himself up from the wooden chair that squeaked a sound of relief as the weight of the warrior was finally lifted from it. “Don’t worry, I and my warriors will keep the Exiles safe tonightâ€, he says in a more serious tone as he picks his double handed mace and steps out into the cold, his fur cape fluffing in the wind. Brood picked himself up, nodded to the one-eyed veteran and left to sleep.

His sleeping chambers are right across the hanging wooden bridge crossing the river and connecting the overlook tower he just left and his inner citadel. To his left the ocean, cold and infinite. It’s nature, smell and taste all to well known to him since he, the rest of Exiles and all others now inhabiting these new lands had to cross it, and cross it they did. Weeks and weeks on confines below or on the decks. Weeks of salt and moaning of waves. Weeks of thirst, hunger, sickness, anticipation and fear. Yet here we are. Pride rose in his heart as he looked to his peoples work, homes, farms, construction yards, mills and barracks. Their own fires glittering in the darkness below this inhospitable sky. Little do the Aegean people need to thrive, a batch of fertile land, some water, sun… and from rock, tears and sweat mighty castles will rise. Further up the river his fellow Exile Lords and Ladies had settled. Their castles and military assets formidable and threatening even in the gloom of the night. Further across the hills and tundra deserts span the cities and castles of other lords and ladies; all who came to these harsh and desolate lands where only the most hardy and dedicated can survive. All who came to this New Adarkis… As he walks the narrow bridge the cold wind seeps into him through his leather armour and tunic and Brood shudders and quickens his pace toward his warm chambers on the other side.

Finally in my bed and wrapped in furs. Pulsating red of the fireplace reflecting from the bumps of stone walls. Warmth and the smell of salt put me to sleep as my eyes close and I welcome the darkness. 

The dream…

My eyes are closed but I sense the sun is rising over the horizon. I can hear the sound of birds and busy people in the distance. I taste the smell of spring and peach orchards in the air. My eyes are opened. I am on a white soft bed covered with a silk blanket. Above my head is a banner of unknown kingdom and allegiance. In the corner, my white golden armour, shield and sword polished to perfection catching and reflecting the early morning sun. I wear a soft royal gown. I am standing now, looking at the mirror. The man looking back at me is not known to me but… I can see strength and determination in his blue eyes and lines of his noble face. I look down at his… my hands… these are the hands of a diplomat and a warrior at the same time. 

I step out on the balcony. The citadel is high. I can see far and clear. Mighty city below me, green planes and rivers, white castles, forts and settlements stretching to the north, west and south and light blue waters of narrow see or a ocean to the east. The sky is blue and clear with two moons barely visible as the sun rises and establishes its dominance. This might not be my homeland of old, but this sky I recognise. These are the lands of the old world, long time ago... when it was young and green and when I walked it under a different flag and name.

As I look at the city below me… my city, the biggest city in these lands, I can sense the pride rising inside me. It is an architectural marble, a unity off beauty, art and practical design. My citadel is in the centaur with main radial streets stretching toward the outskirts of the city. Intersecting with them are the circular ones, forming a kind of a spider web. They are the lifeblood of my city, teaming with people going about their business. The buildings are white and clean, made from ancient Elderis stone that will withstand millennia. Parks, fountains, markets, barracks all organised and arrayed to perfection. Surrounding it all are massive walls, built in the time of my grandfathers, their faces carved on the highest towers that stand ever vigilant over the white city. Manning them are my loyal troops all in silver armours gleaming in the sun, disciplined and proud, they are the testament off my city and my kingdom economic, diplomatic and military might. Outside the walls are the homes of my people, farms, mils and roads connecting my city with the cities of my loyal vassal lords, each one more noble that the next, and each of them swearing their allegiance to me, their king. Together we form kingdoms that will withstand anything the tides off destiny throw at it.

My gaze falls to the east. There lays a narrow sea, blue and calm, the storms that had ruled it for centuries have settled as the prophets have predicted. Once dangerous waters are tamed and sailable now, their demons silent and sleeping. And now, even by naked eye one can see the ancient distant lands, far over the sea, now only partially hidden by the misty white clouds. What wonders and beauties does those land hold. Soon, diplomats and merchants will cross the narrow see and new cultures will be met and new bonds established. 

I shake off my daydreaming about the new lands and put myself to the daily tasks. The life of a king is a busy one and the day will be over quickly…

The sun is low over the western mountains now, and I am back at my citadel again. My mind tired from all the numbers my economy advisors have served me with, my spirit wary from all the emissaries I received today and my shield arm aching from the blunt one of my soldiers gave me when I carelessly tried to flank his phalanx formation with my knights wing while we were practising at the training grounds. But all that is swept away while I listen to my joyful children playing around me and I watch my wife as she smiles at me… I am in my bed again; the smell of my wife’s hair and the sound of crickets put me to sleep.

The raid…

I am on my feet. The night is screaming as the sounds of loud explosions, breaking off rock and things tearing through the air assault my hearing. My wife is scared and I can hear my children cry but I am running toward the balcony. The attack is coming from the sea. I can see the fiery flying stones piercing the blackness of the night. The alarm bells are ringing. The massive torches on the towers are getting lit and the barracks quarters come to life as my army prepares to defend their city. My heart freezes for a moment, as if someone has stabbed me right through it. My city eastern walls are already in rubble, the gate in flames and one of the great towers collapses and disappears in a cloud of dust and debris. 

I can see them now, through the fire and smoke. Their long ships with black sails on the beach, siege engines mounted on them launching balls of fire at the walls of my grandfathers tearing them to rubble and ash. Figures wearing dark armours move in quickly and low, all on foot, the sounds of their weapons clanging as they storm in as a tide through the cracks. My soldiers are trying to arm themselves, form the defensive line, I can see more and more silver armoured figures on the streets… but it is to late, the enemy is upon them. I can hear the clash of metal on metal and animal howls in a foreign language. My soldiers outnumber the enemy but it is of no use, in all the confusion and surprise I can see their fate… and doom… and I can hear them scream… the screams of death. As soon as it began, the battle… the battle was lost and became a massacre. There are fewer and fewer silver figures down there, most never had the chance to even arm themselves. The dark armoured ones are butchering my soldiers at will now, howling like animals to their thirsty gods. They are close, below my citadel now. I can see they wear same but still different emblems; they are of a same kin but off different warlords. All resistance is broken, and then it starts… the pillaging and enslaving. They are robbing my people and my city, my storages are sacked, riches and gold of my ancestors taken and women and children taken from their homes. I stand there and stare at the havoc below me, stunned and helpless. My eyes fixate on the scene below, just across the central square; the savage is dragging a young girl away and her grandfather trying to stop him only to be kicked away to the ground by a ruthless strike of another barbarian. A strong arm grabs my shoulder, and I turn. It is my general, his face and armour bloody. “It is not all lost my Lord, we managed to set out riders, your loyal vassal lords are coming to our aid as we speakâ€. I look further into the night, away from the carnage below me. My general is right as always, I can see the columns of torches streaming toward my city but… it is too late… I know it... the raiders are already retreating and taking their bounty with them, they will escape untouched with my peoples future and riches.

The sun is up. The smell of peaches is exchanged for the smell of burning wood, dust and blood. The streets are filled with the lifeless bodies of my soldiers and people crying and moaning for their dead sons and taken children and wives. My storages and volts deprived of their content. My once mighty city walls and towers only a pile of rubble… the remaining western rim only testament of their formal glory. I feel anger burning inside me. This shall not come to past… “Summon the kingdom council, all our allies and all noteworthy lords of these lands!!!†I command to my officers… “THIS SHALL NOT COME TO PAST !!!â€

Retribution…

My eyes are stressed as I observe the hill like terrain in front of me. Beside me are my royal guard and detachment of spies. Our spies did outstanding work after establishing few small outposts at this continent and gathering information from other inhabitants of these lands. The raiders that pillaged my lands stand one kingdom strong… two dozen warlords. Some lords of these lands dislike them and many fear them but it is of no importance now. Two hours ride to the west my army and armies of all my lords and allies wait. Hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of troops have crossed the narrow sea from Elderis to show these savages that we will not be trifled with. We outnumber our enemies ten to one and soon they will pay for their crimes.

The highlands in front of me are much like my own lands in vegetation and terrain. Green pastures and lush forest fed by clean rivers. The population seems to use same building materials although by observing some farmer homes on the outskirts of this kingdom I noticed some of their stone work is more grey and ancient but also the coloration and age of it varies from house to house and even in single buildings. It seems like they are built or just rebuilt several times using different kinds of stone. Most of the cities at the top of the hills lack walls and towers but on the other hand some strategically placed ones are well fortified. They all lack the beauty and architecture of our cities but seem functional enough. The sun is low now and soon enough our assault will commence. The enemy patrols in the distance seem numerous and vigilant and every moment we delay increases the risk of us being detected.

The sun is down and the hills are now illuminated only by the twin moonlight and stars. After the final four hours march the alliance army is in place and ready to strike. We have positioned our forces well and are circling our enemy from three sides. Mercenaries in front, supported by the domesticated trolls. Then man at arms and knights in the middle. Musketeer and siege support at the rear. Swords and cavalry covering the flanking positions of each of my lord’s armies. As I make final preparations and checks I notice the enemy on the hill sides. Their kingdom army is taking up positions in total quiet and discipline. It seems they know we are here for some time now. It is of no concern now; I have been in this position hundreds of times. I signal the attack with my hand, the sound of trumpets pierce the quiet of the night and the sky lights up with the colour of red burning arrows and stones, heralding the blood soon to be spilled. The night awakes to the sounds of beast and men roars as we charge at the enemy.

I watch from horse as front lines crash into one another. Their king army is composed of heavy infantry, paladins and phalanx mix making the bulk off it, with smaller elements of other troop types. Their losses seem minimal at first due to good placement and agility of lighter troops. I hear the sounds of horns as the savages rely to arms. Soon more of them join the fray but they are greatly outnumbered by my forces. They seem hard to kill but when cut they do bleed and die and for every soldier of mine they kill there are two more ready to take his place. I see mercenaries among the enemy now, shield bearers and war hounds mostly, they are well organised for savages I will give them that, but I will crush them by sheer numbers alone. Hours pass by, and fight as they may the enemy is at the brink of breaking as their lines wear thin. I order knights and man at arms charge down the middle and their lines break. Revenge will be ours soon and as our bloodlust raises we start pillaging, enslaving and massacring their people, we put their homes on fire and destroy their lands. Their cities start burning one by one. I feel the joy of rightful retribution as I me and my allies send more and more pagans to the afterlife. As I swing my sword upon some swordsman my knights have trampled over I hear the sounds of enemy horns. Their broken army reorganises, some start retreating while others commence helpless suicide charge. They start hurling their population from the burning cities, those they can not shelter they kill. I watch the massacre stunned as they kill their own people and pillage their own stock piles. Then it starts… their siege targets their own fallen cities, our and their own troops and people. The walls and towers crumble, storages are set on flames, farms destroyed, total chaos and confusion as the battle lines break in the mist off it all. These savages have no honour or mercy toward their own people… savages… what kind of world breeds people like these. 

The battle if a blur of frenzy and chaos now in the mist of their burning cities. The savages are lost and they are dieing in numbers but still they fight as possessed. I see one charging at me, his left hand chopped off, screaming his lungs out. Before reaching me he gets impaled on a spear of my royal guard commander. He smiles… in agony and pain as his life flees from his body and he screams out his last breathe of defiance. The sun is rising now and I can see the full devastation my forces have brought. Many cities of the enemy including their kings are only rubble now, razed to the ground by my armies and then finished off by their own hand. But the sun is up now and I can see it more clearly… me and my armies are standing in the rubble of stone and piles of dead bodies, deprived of food and plunder and further to the east few of the savages cities still stand, I can see they appointed a new king, their armies rallying to new defensive position, they are waving no white flags… they are beaten but not broken… perhaps I have underestimated these highlanders…They might be more than a horde of berserkers and savages after all.

I gather the reports from all my lords and allies. We have totally annihilated two thirds of our enemy cities and severely damaged few more. It will be years before they recover if ever. By all standards we have achieved total victory. We have suffered losses much larger than anticipated but our victory was never in question. What is important is that we showed them that the sons of Elderis will not be trifled with and any further attempts of aggression against our lands will result in total annihilation of the assailants. More importantly we know what kind of enemy we face now, and this new danger has united us all. If they or anyone else comes, we will be ready for them. I look at my fatigued troops, they have fought with courage and discipline and they deserve rest. I order return to Elderis… the day has been won.

The fall…

I can’t see but I hear the shouting and my armour scraping the surface of the street below me as I am being dragged. “Get our Lord to the command tower and keep him there until the battle is won!†I hear my general yelling. I try to open my helm… I see hands and my royal guards dragging me away from the shouting and noses of battle. I fell from my horse and probably blacked out. My city is burning around me… my people dying… I remember it now.

They came over the sea again in their black long ships. I did not expect them to return and this soon. They came in numbers all over the horizon. The assault was on all of my vassal lords and my city this time. Our alarm bells rang and we were ready for them, their boldness will be their death…

They unloaded their skirmisher troops first, throwing their lives against my kingdom phalanx formations… foolish, or? We realised they are only a decoy made to keep our heavy infantry entangled into manoeuvres, but it was to late as their heavy hitters have landed on the beaches with the boom of muskets and roars of trolls. The battle started in its earnest now. The highlanders troop composition was very different than the last time they visited, they have brought heavy hitters this time and our lines felt the strain off it as they pushed forward. Still they could not hope that their numbers can break us and this was only my kingdom they were up against. I ordered riders to ride out and summon my allies in order to finish this once and for all… some of them never came back and some brought dire news. All my allied kings and most eminent lords were eliminated over the night. The highlanders have struck all over the continent and eliminated specific targets and cities… my alliance was in disarray. No matter, our coffins run deep, deep enough for the newly summoned mercenaries to hold till enemy runs out off steam and then we will reorganise and wipe them off the face of this world. But then I saw it on the horizon, a new wave of black sails followed by white, yellow… red… They have brought friends with them this time. It seems we have underestimated both their military and political potential. Their allies unloaded on our shores adding their weight to the push. Our lines buckled as they endured the new strein. Fresh Highlander Calvary pushed down our flanks and then my silver wall of phalanx broke. They are among us, among my people and they are killing us.

The end…

I hear the shouts, battle cries and screams of my loyal royal guard as they fight and die in the tower below. The end must be near now. I see it from my command room, my army is broken, my city in ruins, my people put to the sword, my lords castles burning, and my empire… my continent is in flames. I spare few last moments to think about my family as I pick up my sword and shield. A familiar figure appears at the entrance of the strategy room. My commander of royal guard, a spear protruding from his chest, one hand holding it and another gripping his sword, his face bloodied and mask off pain but yet he holds his dignity. “My Lord, I am so…â€, he fails to finish the sentence as another spear appears from his chest, he clenches his teeth refusing to scream and collapses. Three figures quickly enter the room, all wearing dark steel armours all covered in blood. The left one holds a tattered banner, all which is left of it are burned rags, and its steel reinforced bottom is all bloody from usage as a spear or a maul to finish off the fallen ones. The one on the right is big, he holds a two handed long sword and from his belt… from his belt, there are severed heads attached to his belt, heads of my loyal lords. The one in the middle wears a standard dark steel armour of his savage kin, he fancies a shield in his left hand with an emblem of a something that looks like a skull but it is to much smudged with blood and gore to be distinguished, in his right he holds a silver gleaming axe that belonged to my fallen royal guard commander and his head is protected by a horned helm showing only his eyes and bearded mouth. There is something familiar about those green eyes as they quickly scans the room, anger and hate emitting from those eyes... eyes of the predator… eyes of a killer.

Anger overwhelms me as I take in the site of the three in front of me. The butchers and murderers of my people. A terrible battle cry engulfs the room and it takes me a moment to realise it comes from my mouth and lungs. I am charging toward the three my shield razed and not a moment to soon… The middle savage moves forward swiftly leaving the other two behind, his right arm flashes throwing something toward me and the silver gleaming axe embeds itself into my shield splitting it apart and brushing my left hand. I stagger a bit and he is upon me bashing me with his shield while he pulls out another one handed axe from his belt. I manage to recover my balance just in time to block his swing aimed at my head. I try to swing at him but he bashes my strike away with ease and I feel the pain as his axe slices through my left leg penetrating the chain armour there. I am retreating and blocking as I can but his motions are fast and blurry, my strength is fading as I register more cuts and bruises on me. My hate and rage fuels my efforts but it is all in vain. Each strike I try is either avoided or deflected with ease and each strike I take either finds its mark or drains my strength even more. This will be over soon, as much as I despise my enemy it is obvious that I am no match for him. 

Suddenly, I see an opening in his defence. I muster all the remaining strength and speed I posses and lunge my sword toward his left flank below his shield coverage. The strike almost connects… but his axe is in the way, now entangled with my sword, a quick turn of his wrist and my sword is not in my hands any more. As I look at it flying away, his armoured knee has already penetrated my unarmed defence embedding itself in my torso armour and sending the air out of my lungs. The pain is vivid and my vision blurry. I hear my sword connecting with the stone floor in a clang of noises and my body soon follows it down as my knees and arms connect with the floor as I gasp for air. I try to get up, but I can not breathe and I am bleeding from hundreds of cuts. Why am I not dead yet? I try to look up and face my soon to be murderer but I fail. Moments pass and I can only hear his footsteps circling me and I can hear him picking up my sword, the other two chuckling in the distance as they watched the spectacle with amusement. Does this one savage have some honour in him after all? Somehow I am up, barely holding myself on my feet. I can feel my broken ribs as I gasp for air, and I see my pale hands as I bleed all over, my lifeblood leaving my body. He is standing in front of me, my sword in his hand, those green eyes penetrating my very soul. I stretch my arm out, palm open so I can receive my sword and die as a warrior… He moves in quickly, my world is all white now and the pain is unbearable, I feel only the pain and now I am falling.

Darkness… The pain is gone now and I feel strange warmth. I open my eyes. I am still among the living, lying on the floor of my command room with my broken sword protruding from my chest. He is standing above me, just standing and looking as I die. I hate him. With my right hand I take my heavy helmet off. And I shout at him, but all that comes out is a whisper. “Murderer…Killer… Dishonourable Dog… Scum!!!â€. He leans in closer and tells me: “Yes. That and much more, much more…â€. “Kill me and take what you want, but spare my family and my people, they have done nothing to you...†I whisper. He looks at me and speaks: “My family will greet you all in the afterlife, you and yours will have no mercy from me, your bloodline is over, your wife and children are already dead.†

I don’t know what I feel now, my body is empty, my heart is empty, and my soul is gone…I can hear someone crying out, it might be me… He is still there, above me, watching me. Somehow I feel holding my helmet tight in my right arm… I strike him with it. His left helmet horn breaks off and he staggers from the impact, his helmet flying off. I grab my broken sword from my chest and pull it out and I… I can’t feel my legs… I can’t feel anything… his shield pins me down, his axe in his hand. I can see the shield emblem clearly now; I can see his face clearly now…I know who those green eyes belong to now. The Axe comes down quickly… darkness...

I am awake, again... Cold sweat engulfing my body. The smell of a sea strong in my nostrils. It is morning and the fire is all burned out. My vision focuses as my senses settle down. I look around my room. There in the corner, on my weapons rack… all dusty and rusted from time and salt in the air, is my old dark steel armour, my horned helm with the chipped left horn, my one handed axe and… and my shield with the skull biting on a rose flower, the emblem of the Seven. 

Title: Dreaming through the eyes of my enemy
Written by: Brood
Dedicated to: All the provinces and kingdoms involved in the first intercontinental wars just after ICA was enabled 
Characters and events: All events and characters in them did take place but were intentionally kept anonymous through this text. 

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