“Ready your steeds, we ride out in five minutes!” Baron demand the next morning. He was tense, but focused. How many of these men would die? How many of Blue's men would they slay? Would it be enough to make a difference? He wondered.
The Demigod tucked a note into the pocket of his trousers. He had written it late last night for Sage should he not return to deliver the message himself. He pushed the negative thought aside and laughed. He was a product of the Gods! Of course he would return home to Galvenston!
The men lined up in their gear alongside the Monseikens. Drakmor offered Baron a steely glare to which Baron returned without question. Th familiarity of his faded hatred ironically offered Baron comfort. Having the steel crusher's negative affections alongside him was like taking a piece of home with him on their journey.
The joined armies rode out on horseback behind Galvenston's flag; embroidered with the Lion.
Ahead of them a messenger was sent to Gallia to alert the Emperor of their arrival. The Gallian's hated the Syrians just as much as Galvenston did now that they suspected Demitrius played a hand in stealing their prophet, Odyous. Which of course was a false assumption, one that Baron wouldn't be correcting any time soon. With any luck the Gallians would mistake Aeron Cadoc's men for Syrians and weaken the army before the Galvenston's arrived. Yes, with any luck..
Baron led his men the long way around a cliff face, so they would not be seen as they approached the Empire.When they came up to the edge of the village the men readied their weapons and slowed their pace. The further they came into Gallia, the more something seemed to be amiss...
The village was quiet for this time of day. There were no merchants in the center; their was no activity at all.
Baron's steed sensed that something was wrong and grew antsy. Silence fell over the Galvenstons and the Mounseikens. Baron ushered his reluctant horse forward. Behind him his men were all to tense, but wise to stay quiet and alert.
They rode past the center and on wards towards the commoner cottages. Baron drew his sword at the first sight of blood that aligned the dirt road connecting the small cottages. Bodies lay carelessly tossed in the road.
Men. Women. Children. All dead.
Baron turned his brain off. Sorrow and sympathy had no place in battle lest one wanted to be killed just as well. Baron channeled his dark energies into revenge. “Lee Shan, Drakmor Check the cottages. See if anyone lives,” he ordered as his eyes focused on the road ahead of them. There was nothing to be seen but blood and corpses for miles up ahead.
Upon Baron's command the army split into two. Drakmor led half of the men to search for survivors while Baron led the other half towards the palace. He held his breath the entire way there. Before he faced Aeron Cadoc's army he needed to confirm something; That the Emperor of Gallia was alive and well. Regardless; his revenge for his allies would be in full effect. There would be no retreating until he had located and disassembled the threat.
Cautiously he led his men outside the palace walls. Once more the group split in half upon Baron's request to divide and conquer. If the Emperor was alive, their was a good chance he had been captured by Blue's men inside the castle.
Baron lassoed an anchored rope over the high wall. Expertly he climbed over the wall using the rope for leverage. The other men who would raid the castle with him followed suit.
The castle was quiet and eerie. The group divided yet again to save time and cover more ground. Baron rushed to the throne room with a few men for backup. The Emperor sat positioned in his high backed throne. He was sitting there solemnly. Baron sighed, relieved to have found the Emperor. Respectfully he bowed. The Emperor was still and quiet.
A few more men rushed into the thrones room. “There is nobody else in the castle,” one of his men announced.
Baron nodded in response before turning his attention back towards the Emperor who was simply staring off into space. “Forgive me Emperor I know I'm out of line in asking; but what kind of man sits feebly in his throne while his Empire is being destroyed and his people slain?”
Behind Baron one of his Comrades cleared his throat before stepping forward. Baron's eyes widened as the comrade walked up to the Emperor and lifted his arm only to demonstrate how limp and lifeless he truly was. “A dead one,” the comrade declared.