Catherina was the first to sound the alarm that the kingdom across the seas seemed to be planning to annex Euchronia. Her adventures over the ocean were lively fun at first, but as time passed, she discovered that the lands outside of her country had similar civilizations: different tribes with the same conflicts.
Their people are preparing for war, and they know of us as the island across the seas, one of her messengers — the rare sort of paripus who got to learn his letters as a scribe in his days as a slave owned by an ishkia eccentric — wrote to Will in a hasty hand, in a letter delivered nearly a month later than the date of its signing. The ocean currents have protected us for many years, but now no longer, for they have great boats of their own design, which run off mighty engines that can cut across the seas like the best of our runners. They have no intention of negotiation, for 'tis our land and people they seek to claim. Theirs is a warlike culture, one which Catherina thrives in, but which she has no desire to see exported to Euchronia. We advise Your Majesty to prepare for an attack posthaste...
The war itself has not gone as well as Will himself had hoped it would. He'd thought, with the infinite power of the Archetypes, they'd be able to cope well enough — but the nation across the seas has numbers in addition to technological strength. He only has six Partisans to spread along the coast; his enemies, meanwhile, have flotillas, battalions, armadas, and they've claimed every stretch of coast they could anchor boats to. Their guns fire faster than the crossbows that are popular in Euchronia, and their explosives are as strong as the kingdom's best igniters. Nothing in comparison to one of Junah's spells, obviously, but there's only one Junah, and too many of their grenades.
It's not going poorly, either — but every day that a Euchronian dies defending his country is another day that Will feels he's failed as a king. The one wry thing he believes about the situation is that, if nothing else, he's succeeded in uniting the tribes by giving them an outward force to focus on instead.
But I don't want the reign of King Wilhelm I to be defined by war...
It's business as usual for a long time — the Partisans spread out over the coasts of Euchronia, leading their own defenses, the king at the forefront of every battle where they might be disadvantaged, sweeping his enemies with the deadly royal blade of the Prince. And then, one night —
— a messenger bursts into his war tent to inform him that General Haliaetus is missing.
Strohl? Missing? Worry eats at Will's heart like a sandworm gnawing through the wastes. He is beyond anxiety and melancholy now — things like this do not rattle him as they used to — but the thought that Strohl has been kidnapped or killed plagues him nonetheless. Surely not his Strohl, surely not — nearly all in the country know by now that General Haliaetus is the King's lover, but there isn't as much tongue-wagging about it as there would be in times of peace, given that most people are worried about keeping food on the table and their children alive.
Anxiously, Will rides his sword out to the battlefront where Strohl was last spotted, hoping against hope that his beloved friend is still alive. He scans the field of dead soldiers, sickened but resigned to the sight of them, hoping to find survivors, or his lover... ]
Strohl — !
[ He wishes Gallica were with him; she's got a louder voice than he does, always has. But she's returned to her roots as a war messenger, and is en route to Basilio's position now with orders from the king. ]
crawls in here so late HELLO i hope this works back in return
[ in both war and peace, leon strohl da haliaetus has proudly worn the mantle of the king's general. though the position once belonged to someone he has far too much in common with, sometimes, a fact he had to come to terms with now ages ago, the stark difference between strohl and his predecessor comes with his strong moral code threaded into his veins by his loving parents, and by the king that he serves and all that they've been through. the partisans all take to their positions with aplomb, and strohl is no difference, utilising both his archetype and his strategic and tactical skills to lead the king's forces in defending the weak, in eradicating stray humans when they rampaged through the countryside, and in supporting the unsteady union of the world they all sought to change.
throughout all of this, strohl has spent his time beside will in a number of manners, as he has before. it makes him proud, to see how much will has grown, to announce his support for him full-hearted and loyal to his core, to the cause they've believed in. to support him and protect him, like he's always promised, and... more tenderly, to love him. these feelings aren't necessarily new, but needed to be reframed, and though there's a passing, nagging worry that he's letting his family down with no heir, he's not of any mind that will won't eventually fall in with the perfect match for him, a princess or noble worth all that he has to offer and then some, an advantageous and flawless match - but until then, he's able to love him and love him and love him with all the devotion and tenderness that he has to offer. it's been... beyond wonderful. it's not a secret - or if it was, it was once poorly kept - but it being more public does have its advantages. it means that on these cold nights in the midst of a war, he's afforded the time to spend with will, to stay the night with him and cradle his face in his hands, press a kiss to his forehead where his brow creases, though his hardly is any better.
times are hard, and seeing will take them hard, take them personally, is even more of a motivator. strohl won't just soothe away his worries; he'll win battles handily, do all that he can to ensure that the peaceful future they've always fought for, together, will be in their grasp. his reign will not be defined by it, after all they've worked for. not if he, or any of the other partisans, all in unison, have anything to say about it.
the show of power of the archetypes helps. he sets up a strike force with his strongest, fastest riders and leads their charges thunderous and powerful, deflecting guns and shielding his men with the royal warrior's formidable size and shape, like a warrior charging into battle. quick, fast strikes are a newer strategy for him, but he thinks about will's face weighed down with worry, and the show of force is a necessity. unsurprisingly, strohl will do anything for his people. he'll do anything for his soldiers. for his king. a noble sacrifice is not as sweet of an idea as it once was, if only because life feels sweeter these days, and halia's rebuilding sings for him, but old habits die hard.
these are the thoughts on his mind as he leads his men into a battle - and that was a few days ago.
when will arrives to the battlefield where strohl was last seen, he'll find that it's relatively quiet. the casualties were intense, here, and there are signs of a great struggle - familiar gashes through the ground indicate the royal warrior's fearsome blade, destroyed landscapes and corpses from both sides, smoke rising off the ground. the battle here has moved to a different force, and as he calls out strohl's name, he won't immediately get a response... from strohl, at least. instead, looking to his left and further down the battlefield, he'll see a soldier curled up with a healer - strohl's second in command, an older rhoag who grunts and tries to push himself up from where he's resting against a tentpole, much to the chastising of his doctor.
"Your majesty," he says - there's an expression of naked fear and sorrow on his face, hearing him approach, and the healer mirrors it, turning her face down to continue her work. "General Strohl, he... he went on ahead, there was - some of our younger recruits were in a tight situation. He... "
the soldier trails off into silence, then shakes his head - he turns just slightly towards the direction strohl went, gesturing the best that he can to where there's a large outcropping of rocks and caves distantly visible through all the smoke and corpses, torn flags and tents and fires. the battlefield remains silent, otherwise. ]
[ He recognizes the old rhoag — Strohl's adjutant. He does his best to put them both at ease; they needn't be afraid to see him, no one should. Will listens patiently to the man's report, swallowing on a lump in his throat. Of course. Strohl would always put himself at risk to save others... ]
I understand. I will find him.
[ The young king sounds more certain of himself than he really feels. He pauses for a moment to ask the healer if she needs anything, but she says no, tells him that he should go on ahead. He does.
At least old Caprinus survived, Will finds himself thinking, with palpable relief, and equal parts grief for the other familiar faces he's seeing on the battlefield. Most are unknown to him, but they are his countrymen, and he feels so terrible, so sorry, that they had to meet their ends this way. Some are people that he did know. There, in the dirt, lies the corpse of a young nidia man who had once trembled excitedly to shake his hand. Beside him, the mangled body of a paripus girl he had been excited, against all odds, to marry. They had both been so excited for the vision of Euchronia that he promised, one beyond tribal conflicts, and petty class squabbles. She must have loved him, too. She must have loved him, too...
Will blinks. Shakes the tears from his eyes. He has to move on. There have been too many of these stories already.
Without fear, he ventures into the cave that Caprinus indicated Strohl had disappeared into. He hops off his blade and holds it in his hand instead; he has to stay on guard, given that this is a likely spot for a potential enemy encampment. Again, he wishes he had Gallica with him; her soft glow was always good for illuminating a dark cavern. As things stand, he has to settle for a minor spell instead: just a soft ball of light, floating beside him like a lantern.
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Catherina was the first to sound the alarm that the kingdom across the seas seemed to be planning to annex Euchronia. Her adventures over the ocean were lively fun at first, but as time passed, she discovered that the lands outside of her country had similar civilizations: different tribes with the same conflicts.
Their people are preparing for war, and they know of us as the island across the seas, one of her messengers — the rare sort of paripus who got to learn his letters as a scribe in his days as a slave owned by an ishkia eccentric — wrote to Will in a hasty hand, in a letter delivered nearly a month later than the date of its signing. The ocean currents have protected us for many years, but now no longer, for they have great boats of their own design, which run off mighty engines that can cut across the seas like the best of our runners. They have no intention of negotiation, for 'tis our land and people they seek to claim. Theirs is a warlike culture, one which Catherina thrives in, but which she has no desire to see exported to Euchronia. We advise Your Majesty to prepare for an attack posthaste...
The war itself has not gone as well as Will himself had hoped it would. He'd thought, with the infinite power of the Archetypes, they'd be able to cope well enough — but the nation across the seas has numbers in addition to technological strength. He only has six Partisans to spread along the coast; his enemies, meanwhile, have flotillas, battalions, armadas, and they've claimed every stretch of coast they could anchor boats to. Their guns fire faster than the crossbows that are popular in Euchronia, and their explosives are as strong as the kingdom's best igniters. Nothing in comparison to one of Junah's spells, obviously, but there's only one Junah, and too many of their grenades.
It's not going poorly, either — but every day that a Euchronian dies defending his country is another day that Will feels he's failed as a king. The one wry thing he believes about the situation is that, if nothing else, he's succeeded in uniting the tribes by giving them an outward force to focus on instead.
But I don't want the reign of King Wilhelm I to be defined by war...
It's business as usual for a long time — the Partisans spread out over the coasts of Euchronia, leading their own defenses, the king at the forefront of every battle where they might be disadvantaged, sweeping his enemies with the deadly royal blade of the Prince. And then, one night —
— a messenger bursts into his war tent to inform him that General Haliaetus is missing.
Strohl? Missing? Worry eats at Will's heart like a sandworm gnawing through the wastes. He is beyond anxiety and melancholy now — things like this do not rattle him as they used to — but the thought that Strohl has been kidnapped or killed plagues him nonetheless. Surely not his Strohl, surely not — nearly all in the country know by now that General Haliaetus is the King's lover, but there isn't as much tongue-wagging about it as there would be in times of peace, given that most people are worried about keeping food on the table and their children alive.
Anxiously, Will rides his sword out to the battlefront where Strohl was last spotted, hoping against hope that his beloved friend is still alive. He scans the field of dead soldiers, sickened but resigned to the sight of them, hoping to find survivors, or his lover... ]
Strohl — !
[ He wishes Gallica were with him; she's got a louder voice than he does, always has. But she's returned to her roots as a war messenger, and is en route to Basilio's position now with orders from the king. ]
crawls in here so late HELLO i hope this works back in return
throughout all of this, strohl has spent his time beside will in a number of manners, as he has before. it makes him proud, to see how much will has grown, to announce his support for him full-hearted and loyal to his core, to the cause they've believed in. to support him and protect him, like he's always promised, and... more tenderly, to love him. these feelings aren't necessarily new, but needed to be reframed, and though there's a passing, nagging worry that he's letting his family down with no heir, he's not of any mind that will won't eventually fall in with the perfect match for him, a princess or noble worth all that he has to offer and then some, an advantageous and flawless match - but until then, he's able to love him and love him and love him with all the devotion and tenderness that he has to offer. it's been... beyond wonderful. it's not a secret - or if it was, it was once poorly kept - but it being more public does have its advantages. it means that on these cold nights in the midst of a war, he's afforded the time to spend with will, to stay the night with him and cradle his face in his hands, press a kiss to his forehead where his brow creases, though his hardly is any better.
times are hard, and seeing will take them hard, take them personally, is even more of a motivator. strohl won't just soothe away his worries; he'll win battles handily, do all that he can to ensure that the peaceful future they've always fought for, together, will be in their grasp. his reign will not be defined by it, after all they've worked for. not if he, or any of the other partisans, all in unison, have anything to say about it.
the show of power of the archetypes helps. he sets up a strike force with his strongest, fastest riders and leads their charges thunderous and powerful, deflecting guns and shielding his men with the royal warrior's formidable size and shape, like a warrior charging into battle. quick, fast strikes are a newer strategy for him, but he thinks about will's face weighed down with worry, and the show of force is a necessity. unsurprisingly, strohl will do anything for his people. he'll do anything for his soldiers. for his king. a noble sacrifice is not as sweet of an idea as it once was, if only because life feels sweeter these days, and halia's rebuilding sings for him, but old habits die hard.
these are the thoughts on his mind as he leads his men into a battle - and that was a few days ago.
when will arrives to the battlefield where strohl was last seen, he'll find that it's relatively quiet. the casualties were intense, here, and there are signs of a great struggle - familiar gashes through the ground indicate the royal warrior's fearsome blade, destroyed landscapes and corpses from both sides, smoke rising off the ground. the battle here has moved to a different force, and as he calls out strohl's name, he won't immediately get a response... from strohl, at least. instead, looking to his left and further down the battlefield, he'll see a soldier curled up with a healer - strohl's second in command, an older rhoag who grunts and tries to push himself up from where he's resting against a tentpole, much to the chastising of his doctor.
"Your majesty," he says - there's an expression of naked fear and sorrow on his face, hearing him approach, and the healer mirrors it, turning her face down to continue her work. "General Strohl, he... he went on ahead, there was - some of our younger recruits were in a tight situation. He... "
the soldier trails off into silence, then shakes his head - he turns just slightly towards the direction strohl went, gesturing the best that he can to where there's a large outcropping of rocks and caves distantly visible through all the smoke and corpses, torn flags and tents and fires. the battlefield remains silent, otherwise. ]
you are fine and it is wonderful ♥
I understand. I will find him.
[ The young king sounds more certain of himself than he really feels. He pauses for a moment to ask the healer if she needs anything, but she says no, tells him that he should go on ahead. He does.
At least old Caprinus survived, Will finds himself thinking, with palpable relief, and equal parts grief for the other familiar faces he's seeing on the battlefield. Most are unknown to him, but they are his countrymen, and he feels so terrible, so sorry, that they had to meet their ends this way. Some are people that he did know. There, in the dirt, lies the corpse of a young nidia man who had once trembled excitedly to shake his hand. Beside him, the mangled body of a paripus girl he had been excited, against all odds, to marry. They had both been so excited for the vision of Euchronia that he promised, one beyond tribal conflicts, and petty class squabbles. She must have loved him, too. She must have loved him, too...
Will blinks. Shakes the tears from his eyes. He has to move on. There have been too many of these stories already.
Without fear, he ventures into the cave that Caprinus indicated Strohl had disappeared into. He hops off his blade and holds it in his hand instead; he has to stay on guard, given that this is a likely spot for a potential enemy encampment. Again, he wishes he had Gallica with him; her soft glow was always good for illuminating a dark cavern. As things stand, he has to settle for a minor spell instead: just a soft ball of light, floating beside him like a lantern.
Again, he raises his voice, calls out. ]
Strohl...? Can you hear me?