Theurgy: Forsaken Oaths

    Life in the northern regions of Lykos has become harsher and harsher as the days continue. Granted that life outside of the major walled cities, such as the capital, has always been unkindly to the many residents that called the thin pine forest and coarse hills home. The many large and ancient beasts that have chosen to roam these lands as feeding territory has perpetually given a challenge to even the most experienced hunters who prey upon the abundant game or the mining of raw materials from the rich earth. But ever since the Frostlandians had declared war on the clans, the various raids and incursions from these rabid forces have pushed many from the border that they had once claimed a sustainable home. Of course, the empire does all it can to keep these forces at bay. Lykos is far from inexperienced with handling the raid parties of some nomadic sects or smaller factions within the Frostlands, but it is due to the far more cohesive and organized formations that present the largest problems to deal with. Not only, but the mysterious and powerful Hyperboreans pose a threat even to the Empire's illustrious knights that serve the seven crowns.

     A small town called Munstud had been called to bear witness to this terrible power. Being a relatively isolated community, the walls only amplified the seclusion villages tend to have so far from the major cities. Still, to say that they were unprotected or vulnerable would be a mistake any ignorant person could make. The high walls are lined with watchtowers and designed to provide its purpose to the fullest extent. Its weathered walls were only a testament to its long-standing effectiveness in repelling the various threats of the wild. But they were not prepared, however, for what came upon their gates that fateful dawn.

      For the men on the watchtower, their duties were simply to look out at the lands that surround them, and report when any creature got too curious about their fortification. At which point a few arrows shall be forwarded to dissuade them from their careless behavior. That was the routine. But as the sun slowly crested over the mountains to the east, the winds drew colder than what was meant for these summer months. Something that the guards took note of immediately. He stood, a bow already stringed and in hand as he stared off into the distant tree line. It just got colder and colder, till he could see his breath become mist as it exited his mouth, the moisture in the sky forming haze all around them. And then, a distant hum, the unmistakable sounds of war horns. Not those of warning, but a call to slaughter, a call of a coming vicious battle that they were unprepared for.

    The attack seemed to come in the instant. The warning bells within the watchtowers sounded off only a few times till they were completely frozen over, the men dying at that moment. And the slow awakening of the town did not bode them well. Within minutes, Frostlandic forces had broken through the front gates, armed with swords and the power of winter, guided by a frenzied will and hatred. Very few escaped their terror as they began to lay waste to this small town in its entirety. That was their intention, after all. Those who found themselves face to face with them found themselves killed, with no room for any sort of prisoners. Men and women alike were not spared, not even for slaves. Soldiers were overpowered, ill-prepared for the likes of the Hyperboreans who wielded their ice magic, summoning spires of ice to lob or freezing men where they stood for a quick and decisive death. And three of them more than ensured this town's fate. One commanding upon a giant white horse, Kulsnk, leader of the white winds, looked around anxiously. He would have thought at least one or two knights would be stationed at this pitiful little settlement. He has already killed his fair share, but the two he brings with him are yet untested. They need to take the lives of real knights. Not because it was some ritual or right of passage amongst the white winds. that passage is merely the fight itself, in the name of the beings that had gifted them with his power. The point made by taking the life of a knight is to reveal to them that the Empire is not invincible. 

     What Kulsnk has come to realize after his first true victory over these foes, is that many other nations, even his own home, saw knights as some unkillable entity, a being of unmatched power. But he was amongst the first to slay one of these so-called unkillable enemies and removed such fear from his people. And now these two shall prove themselves more than scared little cowards afraid fo the stories old wise men tell.

      "I know they are near," he spoke in his native language. "Come forth southerners, and face the slaughter of your kind. Thieves of the Halls of Sulthe."

       A loud crashing sound. His first thought was to dismiss it as yet another cause of the hyperborean's power running amok as it often does. In the heat of battle, one may forget themselves in the moment. But for him, a mere commander and observant officer, he noticed something that fell to the sky in another part of the city. On instinct, he drew his curved blade and made his way there amongst the lower bloods drawn by the commotion. It would seem the town guards had somewhat fortified this area and had been extracting as many citizens to escape through the western gate as possible. Kulsnk saw one of the others of his kind moving there as well, but not the other. His mind immediately went to the image of a knight. They often wielded ancient magic with very destructive means, which means that they themselves care little to understand. That means that they themselves can not be underestimated either. And he knew what had happened when he saw his brethren lying limply in the wreckage of what could be a building. Kulsnk could still see the power of the wind leaving his body. It was not the first time he has seen another of his kind vanquished, but to be done so quickly was just unheard of. Without thinking, he looked to the guards forming some sort of line to allow for the citizens behind them to escape, and he intended to freeze them all where they stood. But instead he wished for a far more painful end. He held up his hands, the power fo the northern winds filling him with energy as he summonsed forth it's strength. Spires of ice easily the length of men formed around him .His men watched in awe at his feat of power, honed through years of dedication and practice for the teachings. Death by impalement, if he had more time he would have rendered each of their limbs to agonizing uselessness. But this will do just fine. He hurled these spires at the guards, dozens upon dozens ready to sunder them limb from limb.

      But then, something stopped them. Within meters of their targets, a large slab of earth suddenly jutted upward and stopped the spires in their tracks, embedding them in the earth. Kulsnk looked about to see the source of this magic until he saw that his men were all looking up. Above them, bathed in the light of the morning sun, was a figure slowly descending upon them. Their body alights with aura visibly leaking from them, this figure wielded a sword in one hand and no other weapon. Wreathed in the armor of white, a cape fluttering amongst the breeze, he settled himself between the fleeing civilians and the approaching skirmishing party of the White winds.

    "You have only one warning," this man spoke. "Either turn and leave or face the wrath of the Empire."

      "Damn your empires into the pits of hell southerner," Kulsnk men drove insults and such at this figure, taking his offer as an insult. And Kulsnk was for a moment eager to join them. But something stopped him from doing so. Never has he ever heard a knight offer a truce of any sort in the midst of battle. The Empire simply did not offer such courtesy. Yet this knight has done so. This worried Kulsnk greatly, and he shouted at the lower bloods to prepare themselves immediately. The figure visibly seemed disappointed, dawning the signature helmet of the knights of Liontari before turning back to the citizens and soldiers, then back to the White winds.

     "Very well then," he said. "May you give back to the land that birthed you. Edlund . . ."

     Chaos. In that instant, chaos manifested in their ranks as men began to be tossed aside left or right. Without warning, a man slammed into their sides and began taking down one man after another wielding a giant golden hammer that easily batted many aside. Then, from behind, several dozen men on horses mounted a surprise attack, as the White winds found themselves surrounded by the Empire forces. Arrows rained down upon them, his other brethren found themselves impaled through the chest and dragged away by cavalry. So quickly were they outmaneuvered that Kulsnk was at a loss. Their scouts reported no nearby outpost where these forces could come from. in fact, they seem to have descended upon them as if summoned. At a closer look, these men looked different from the regular soldiers they encountered till now. But it was too late to try and surmise why this was happening, men were falling left and right, falling to the Empire. Guided by anger, he began to charge his horse directly to the one who approached them initially. Using the winds he summoned blades made of hard ice to his hands and even shot some toward this knight. But they were easily tossed aside as if by a child. As his warcry, he called out the name of his warriors, for which none responded, and he swung down to end this knight for his people.

      And he was sent flying. The winds betrayed him, not boosting his power but instead slamming into him with the force to throw him and his horse backward with ease. He hit the ground hard, dropping his weapons. Blood leaked from his mouth, as he is sure to of broken a few bones from such a fall. While they would mend shortly due to his powers, he knew that any further falter will mean his end. He looked up to see his men, being rounded up and killed, little remained of them. Their crusade ended here, in this small worthless town of all places. this was merely meant to be a small, easy attack, how could they have been so careless? With hatred as his pride, he turned and unleashed the power of the Vetrajt upon this man, assured to turn him to ice in an instant.  But the knight was sure to respond, as he pointed that sword at Kulsnk, and unleashed the enemy upon him. The Lights. A bright beam poured forth from this sword, meeting his powers and overpowering them in an instant. The power of the winds failed, as this knight proved them futile. His final thoughts were only of who could possibly defy the true power, who could have done all this with the ease of a mere game. And Lyse's thoughts were only of pity, as he lowered his father's sword only to see the charged remains of the hyperborean who refused to surrender.