DeletedUser9212
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Heat waves rose from the plains of Arkania in all directions. RedLance shading his eyes with his hand while looking in all directions, becoming accustomed to these new lands.
Following the Old Codes in this world have lead to some harsh realities. Generations after Generations of Warlords have changed greatly from when the Old Codes were founded and followed. Few were left that believed in them.
Honesty, Integrity and Ones word a Bond stronger than Steel. Justice had been warped by the feeling, that only might made right and all most people cared about were their own personal gain at any expense.
Courage had fled along with anyone when confronted with a stronger force. Most had lost the Heart to stand and rebuild and fight and rebuild time and again. Never to surrender, Never to run away, Never to give up or into the corruption sweeping the world.
Taking a deep breath, he turns around and walks back into his campaign tent. Looking down at the map on his desk. He makes a decission. Calling to his Aide he sends for his Heralds. Three stand before him. To the first two Heralds he presents scrolls to them for both Name it Lesss of -34- and Gills28 of the Ninjas asking they meet him at a certain meadow in a neutral land uninhabited.
To the final Herald he hands the third scroll. Along with it he pulls a strange smallish seeming solid metal object, flat on one end and rounded on the other. A gift given him many years before. Give these to Blue Eyed Sandwalker and send him the regards of a old comrade.
Stepping outside he watches as the Heralds ride off. Calling to his stablehand he mounts his horse. Dismissing the objections of his men. He too heads off on his own. No troops, no guards, no protection but his own strength of arm.
Collecting his thoughts as he rides, the wind cooling his brow and calming him. He thinks that once again he must do what he had thought he would not have to do again. For evil to succeed all it needed was for good men to do nothing.
And he was damned if he would do nothing.
Following the Old Codes in this world have lead to some harsh realities. Generations after Generations of Warlords have changed greatly from when the Old Codes were founded and followed. Few were left that believed in them.
Honesty, Integrity and Ones word a Bond stronger than Steel. Justice had been warped by the feeling, that only might made right and all most people cared about were their own personal gain at any expense.
Courage had fled along with anyone when confronted with a stronger force. Most had lost the Heart to stand and rebuild and fight and rebuild time and again. Never to surrender, Never to run away, Never to give up or into the corruption sweeping the world.
Taking a deep breath, he turns around and walks back into his campaign tent. Looking down at the map on his desk. He makes a decission. Calling to his Aide he sends for his Heralds. Three stand before him. To the first two Heralds he presents scrolls to them for both Name it Lesss of -34- and Gills28 of the Ninjas asking they meet him at a certain meadow in a neutral land uninhabited.
To the final Herald he hands the third scroll. Along with it he pulls a strange smallish seeming solid metal object, flat on one end and rounded on the other. A gift given him many years before. Give these to Blue Eyed Sandwalker and send him the regards of a old comrade.
Stepping outside he watches as the Heralds ride off. Calling to his stablehand he mounts his horse. Dismissing the objections of his men. He too heads off on his own. No troops, no guards, no protection but his own strength of arm.
Collecting his thoughts as he rides, the wind cooling his brow and calming him. He thinks that once again he must do what he had thought he would not have to do again. For evil to succeed all it needed was for good men to do nothing.
And he was damned if he would do nothing.