The Cerulean Brigade, Ch. 1

[Raiden]

The king sat on his high throne, mumbling silently to himself. His head was bent from the extreme weight placed upon his head, though it wasn't the crown of gold and rare jewels that caused this pressure.

The country was at war. His soldiers had been sent to the borders to protect from invasion. Of course, with such a massive call away, it seems every bandit, dragon, and fiend creature decided to crawl from the depths of their hiding places and have a field day with his country. Sheep being stolen, villages being ransacked for valuables, even the lowest kind of vandalism had increased in number.

In accordance with his advisors, he had sent messengers to several unique individuals in his country. Hopefully, they could work as a group to keep the country intact on the inside while the soldiers were off making sure the lines of the country were kept. He did have some doubts, though. As king, he had access to the most extensive research of individuals anyone could get their hands on. And from what he read about these people....this could end quite poorly if not handled right.

Regardless of his current feelings, what had been done was done. The meeting of these individuals was in less than an hour. Some had already arrived, and were waiting in his grand hall for the king himself to make an appearance.

He stood with a sigh, his robes draped around his frame. Being a king was rougher than it seemed.

[PyrosNine]

Faze wandered into town. He'd gotten a letter from some strange messenger in royal robes the night before and as such had journeyed through the day to the castle town.

He'd been spending a few months in this land's wilderness to train himself, fearing days of uneventful walking had dusted his actions and stained his polished skill. Amongst the pines he practiced his skill, ducking, weaving, stabbing, vaulting, and sparred against imagined foes. He'd wished for a partner, but fortune had yet to smile upon him for companionship. So he did the best he could trainingwise.

Naturally, it was bound to be found out that there was a master spearman in the woods and whenever people found out there was someone good at something, they tried to get him to do it. Faze wasn't shocked by the royal summons, as he'd been in kingly courts before. Countless times before he'd been found by peons and lords alike and asked to do small favors that they couldn't normally do, and they saw him as a beacon of hope in their direness. (Or they were just lazy. That one time he had to watch over the Aire Kingdom's royal heirs seemed too much like ordinary babysitting, especially when the King and Queen went off to the beach....)

As Faze walked through the castle town he knew exactly where to go. In any town, city, and castle town, there was always a pattern or layout that underlay that never changed. Your butcher would always be here, your baker would always be there, and unless your city planner was cracked off his gourd; the candlestick maker would be there too. So it is so that Faze found himself a pub without effort and waltzed right in.

The pub was called the "Pretty Boar", which undoubtably came from an old folk tale of the region about a farmboy who raised pigs and when an unseelie fairy of reknown came to his barn, he was heard to have wished his favorite pig was a woman. The fairy, feeling pity and cruelty in his heart for the lonely lad, turned the prize pig into a beautiful maiden who the boy fell quickly in love with. Of course, he had trouble arranging the marriage with his parents as they disliked his brides's horrible table manners, her bad hygiene, and her tendency to hold long conversations with pigs. Also, his mother was one of those mothers who liked their sons under their thumbs, and would have married him herself if it would have kept him under her roof.

But all was fixed fortunately, when an Angry fire spirit followed the trail of the Fairy's magic to get revenge over a card game he lost, and stumbled upon the Pig beauty and the boy's family. Feeling a pang in his heart for the boy and how the boy must have suffered so, he transformed the parents into pigs, set fire to the barn with them in it, and ate all their food and wine. Which included pork. Then, he paid the farmboy alot of gold, and left.

Thus, the farmboy and his Pig-like wife lived happily ever after.

Faze called for the barkeep. "I'd like some ale, please. And maybe some pork. My appetite's acting up."

(Also, if anyone cares, it could also be called the "Pretty Boar" because the Pub, overall, is pretty boar-ing! Get it? Get it? I know you do. NOW BURN!)

[Astral Harmony]

Commanding Knight Aishel McValerie waited in the grand hall, holding a plate of food from the buffet that was set out and hoping silently that she didn't have to wait much longer.
"This is just too stupid."
If the distant Kingdom of Duvashnia wanted to strengthen the alliance with this kingdom, Aishel was all for it. But just sending her? Without any troops or support? It's like they wanted to embarrass themselves. Why not supply a legion to be converted into a temporary peacekeeping force under the direct command of the king? Or even just sending Aishel with her unit would've shown some promise. But they only handpicked Aishel and told her to be there by today.
"The king is going to have kittens when he hears that only I was dispatched."
Then again, the king of Duvashnia could be doing "that" again. Aishel frowned. His actions were certainly covered by a very thin veil. She sighed and continued to eat slowly, wondering what the hell she was going to say.

[PhoenixFlame]

It had been a night before that the court messenger had graced Mrs. Silvermane's humble house in the less reputable part of Gillnor. In fact, it was Raine who found the man, suffering at the mercy of a pair of common brigands. While she did not kill them, the demonhunter certainly gave them enough of a scare to never bother purple-robed emissaries in their part of town ever again.

Today, however, was like any other day. Raine had anticipated that if the King had really managed to stoop low enough to hire her, (And, quite honestly, how did he find out about her little services, anyway?) It would would most likely involve a large, scary fiend harassing a great deal of Gillnor.

For that, Raine resolved that she would need plenty of obscure equiptment, and could afford to arrive a mere hour before the meeting.

The castle was an imposing sort indeed, as all castles are. Perhaps not as imposing as a pillar of jagged obsidian, draped with human flesh, but about as dangerous. After all, while the King was not an Archdevil, he was a politician of the worst sort.

"Halt!" Commanded the guard at the castle gate. The only guard, where there would have been at least two, and possibly four. He seemed rather understandably on edge from the sudden appearance of the black-coated figure that was the rather benign Raine Silvermane. His spear glinted in the filtering light, leveled in her direction.

Tipping her hat back to expose her face, Raine held up the summons that the courtsman had given her, and smiled impishly.

"You wouldn't want to poke me with that thing, now, would you?" She chuckled.

[Skyshot]

Hunpher Gorwick snatched the letter from the tall messenger.

"Whaaat, it can't wait? You may notice my room of waiting is full! Full!"

"Actually, sir, they followed me in here."

"Eh...ah wha? They what now?"

"Given how fast those women run to keep up with me, I'd say they're in good health, sir. Rest assured it was empty when I got in here."

"Kids these days." Hunpher grabbed a handy knife and cut off the seal from the letter. His eyes passed over it. "Oh, what does that whippersnapper poncy-boy want with me now?"

"I wouldn't know, sir."

"Bah! He thinks he can just summon me wherever whenever? Well, he's right. He's the king. Does whatever he wants." Hunpher tossed the letter aside (awkardly, due to its aerodynamic qualities), and headed towards the back room. "Well, on with you, then. You're done here."

"Yes sir." The messenger took a deep breath and charged for the entrance. He knew it was futile; they always kept pace with him.

Always.


In the back residence room, Hunpher gathered up a few possessions, starting with his weapons. The axe and the boot knife could stay there, but he'd want the short sword and the quarterstaff. He then spent a few minutes gathering his medical equipment into a large pack. Given the tone of the letter, he'd want his armor and prized possession too. Oh, how he hated that prized possession.

He pulled a chest from under his bed and opened it. His armor still fit him, so he took it out and carefully tucked it into the pack. He then steeled himself to remove the cloak. He was reasonably certain it was in there, not only because every time he tried to look in, he felt compelled to look more closely at the lid or the sides of the chest, but because he remembered putting it in there.

He first grabbed the cloak with both hands, but when he raised them, the frictionless fabric just slid through back into the chest. He then tried gathering it into his arms and hauling it out in a bundle, but that plan failed just as badly.

After several more attempts and constant groping, he finally located the clasp, leaned backwards over the chest, and hooked it around his neck. There, that got it. He stood up and almost swore as he realized he'd have to take it off to put his chainmail on.

He decided to address that issue when he got there, so he stuck the short sword in the pack, hauled it onto his shoulders, grabbed his "walking" cane and quarterstaff, and set off for the castle. Hopefully he wasn't forgetting anything.

[Tarrin]

Tyrrine was hurring thru the town as fast as he could, Many of the people ran from his path and into what ever shelter they could find, The ran not from the young man but from his two offsiders that occompinied him.

The large black wolves snarled at any who got too close to their friend, Tyrrine hated big cities, Having the two wolves with him gave him just enough of a feeling of safety that he didn't end up a jibbering idiot.

The Guard at the castle jumped aside in surprise and what few guards that were on the ramparts leveled their crossbows at the unlikely trio.

"The King has sent for me" Showing the pass from the kings court Tyrrine made to pass, "Not with those beasts you won't" stammered the guard.
"Then i'll leave and you can tell the king why i was denied entrance" The guard made a few exasperated facial expressions, Defeated he allowed the group thru and into the castle.

Now Tyrrine and his friends sat in a corner eating some food that had been put on the table.

[mauve]

Curua was sleeping when the message came. The servant shoved the skeleton key into the lock of his door, but even the loud squeal of the hinges and the jangling of steel on steel did nothing to wake Curua. The door creaked open, shedding a rectangle of light on the large reddish-brown dog sleeping inside. His hind foot twitched as he dreamed of something involving running.

"Wake up," grunted the messenger. "You're being summoned to the grand hall." When the animal made no response, the boy nudged him in the ribs with the toe of his boot and repeated the order. The dog's ears flattened against his skull in annoyance.

"Nrumph..." the dog retorted, his long mouth pressed against his forepaws. "Go 'way."

The messenger boy frowned. It always had to be the hard way. Drawing himself up importantly, he pointed a finger at Curua.

"I have been given orders by the king. He has summoned you to the grand hall, and he commands you to follow me there right now. So COME."

The dog jerked up, almost as though someone had grabbed a hold of his silver collar and yanked. Curua shook himself and begrudgingly walked over to the boy. The lad walked down the hallway, and Curua, as though being dragged on a leash, followed behind him.

"Summons... Raging hells. I'll tell him what he can do with his bloody summons," the dog muttered. The boy ignored him. There was nothing the dog could do; he had to obey.

For what may have been the millionth time, Curua wondered what possessed him to want to learn how to shapeshift in the first place. But then, being trapped in one of his less-pleasant forms had never been his intention. He padded along dejectedly behind the servant, his ears pressed back against his long head.

"I do so hope that our dear king doesn't get a nosebleed from the high altitude on that bloody high throne of his. And I do hope that he doesn't die of bloodloss soon after..." He may not have the choice to ignore the summons, but no-one said he couldn't voice his opinions on the subject.

A short time later, the pair entered the grand hall. There were a few people there already, but that didn't seem to interest Curua. The dog growled softly and curled into a ball in the back corner of the room, pretending that nobody else existed. The young messenger stood beside him, waiting patiently for the king and the summoned heroes to arrive.

[GARUD]

Garud was riding his Knightmare summon down the cobblestone road. The town was dry and lively, everybody was in a hurry. Some had wagons, others had horses, and some were on foot. It was a very interesting town. The further in he went though, the dirtier it got. There were hobos on the ground, smoke and dust was everywhere. Garud dismounted and walked his ride to a building that looked like an inn. 15 ladies all dolled up with make-up waited outside. One of them spoke.

"Hello there handsome. Care to go for a... ride?"

"No thanks, I already have one. He can go for quite a while at a time."

The woman seemed perplex.

"No, this ride doesen't have a saddle... if you know what I mean..."

"Actually, I hate riding bareback."

The woman seemed very frustrated.

"Look man, would you like a root? A down and dirty root?"

"Nah, roots are far too bitter, so I only stock up on herbs that help me concentrate. But thanks for the offer. I must be off now."

Garud rode off down the road, Knightmare's hooves clanking upon the ground as they went. They rode along a dirt track through a lush forrest and arrived at a sentry outpost. One of the officers walked out.

"Name please? And then pay the toll to pass. It's twelve bronze crowns."

"Sure. My name is Garud. And he-"

"Garud? Oh, we have heard you were coming this way. We have a message for you. You are free to pass and must enter the king's palace as soon as possible."

"Oh, thank you sir. I'll be on my way."

As Garud rode off toward the palace, the guards said,

"That's the strangest horse I've ever seen."

The summoner rode at a high speed making a steady passage. He was one of the first ones there, making it very early on. Just outside, he de-summoned Knightmare and entered the royal castle. The palace was beautiful, with the walls line with tapestries and paintings. The summoner approached the throne room and the doors were opened for him. He walked toward the throne. He then knelt, and did the sign of the summoner putting a finger on his heart, and then drawing a circle, he placed his finger on the floor and then pointed to the sky.

"My lord, did you summon for me?"

[Raiden]

The guard attempting to apprehend Raine looked at the summons in her hand, and tried his best to hide a sigh of relief. He was but one guard, and skilled as he was, you could never be sure if some random passer-by in a cloak would just so happen as to walk up and take him out on her own. He didn't even have a name tag, for heaven's sake! He was just another nameless guard. The chances of him holding his own against someone that truly wanted in didn't bode well for his side. He lowered his spear and stood off to the side again, allowing her to pass.

Meanwhile, the King stared down the long staircase from his throne to the floor below him. A man had bowed down before him, having paid no attention to the fact that everyone had been told to meet in the grand hall. No, this man believed himself so important, he could simply walk into the Throne Room unannounced and believe that the king would instantly know him by name. The king's eyes closed as he rubbed he head beneath his crown. If the guards were still here, this man would have been tossed into the dungeon for the sheer audacity of it.

"Idiots..."

During all this time, another traveler was walking down a path to the castle. He was wearing full plate mail made of the finest gold and white metal. A sword bounced along his hip, and a shield moved slightly on his back beneath an extravagent cape. His long clean hair moved about his face, his piercing blue eyes looking through the strands. As he walked, he seemed to be muttering to himself.

"Why are we doing this again?"

<'tis a summons from the one royal patriarch of this country. He has stood pure in the light of God, and as such is one to be favored in events such as these, as is declared by Him.>

"...God, I can never understand you."

<The king is counted amongst the favored, and shouldst be taken under extreme consideration for the priorities of one's life. A summons is a command from one who has earned it. As such, we push on.>

"I swear, if you weren't bound to me..."

[PyrosNine]

Faze stumbled into castle, a large roasted leg of lamb in his right hand, a large jug of firewine in his left, and anything he could possibly harm himself with on his back.

A guard got in his way. "Halt! What purpose do you have in this castle?"

"Ah'm jush here, just her to say "HALLO!" to Mr. Kingmanpersonthingywhatever! Cush it's palite! palate! Polish!" As Faze wondered how to say 'polite' the guard considered what was before him.

He was some man from the woods, who had obviously come to town to sell things he had for supplies, and had visited the pub. Then, like all the others, he got drunk and was doing something stupid, in this case trying to say hello to the King. Obviously, the king wouldn't want to even have this fool in his sight, so the guard thought it best to turn him aside now before later. He certainly couldn't be one of the people the King sent for....

"Alright drunkard, you've had far too much. Leave the premises immediately while I'm feeling particularly forgiving, or face some time in the cold, damp dungeon!" The soldier pushed the Drunken Faze away.

"But *hic!* Ah'm like, te kingsssss best fend! He....he....callme! He call me hieer. He calld me hier today." Faze butchered the english language as he then took a bite out of the lamb leg and washed it down with a gulp of firewine. He then smiled at the guard, wine dribbling from his mouth.

"The king is most certainly not your 'fend'!, unless it means "fiend"! Now begone! You're trying my patience! We are still expecting more important people today, and It'll be my wages if they are stopped by your drunken antics. Now go!"

"Une Momamiaento!" Faze raised a finger from the leg of lamb. He stuffed the meat into his mouth and held it, while using the greasy free hand to reach into his pocket. Then, after some digging, pulled out a piece of parchment. While quite grease-stained, it was easy to see it bore the golden mark of royalty.

The guard was aghast.
"What? YOU? Sent for by the king? It's been weird enough with the others summoned, but a common drunkard?!?"

"Yash nose, Ah'm a riely nice guy, and noramorally I just let dat sslide...but this fine wine sess I gots ta hurt you. Apopolopogizes." Before the guard could do anything, Faze threw the meat in the air, pulled out his spear and whacked the guard upside the head knocking him out cold.

Faze caught the meat when it fell with his mouth and returned the spear to his back. He walked on, and everytime a guard or servant saw him, he showed them the note. And so he made his way to the banquet hall, mumbling to himself all the way.

"Sssshtupid wine. You maded me hurts 'im. I didn wanna, but yoush made meh. Naw I haf to drink you. Dwink you dead."