Indignation is a Fire Emblem Roleplay. It takes place within the Outrealms as worlds collide and kingdoms wage an endless war. However, amongst the quarrels of men do the horrors of the Outrealm reach in to kill and destroy. Fight alone or join forces with other warriors as we create dramatic tales or wage war!
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The mission is simple. Take the supplies to Fort Jinya to assist in recuperation of the fort garrison. You will be paid for your trouble as soon as you arrive, and are free to return to Nohr afterwards.
Of course, we are aware of your status as a dishonored soldier of the knight regiment for His Benevolence King Garon. You boasted high marks in the academy, high aptitude in magic, and excellent affinity with equine mammals, granting you the coveted rank and position of a Dark Flier. Very few soldiers can ever boast of such an honor.
We ask that you rethink your position as a mercenary, as we have determined to welcome you back into the Nohrian military. Come in contact with the current commander of Fort Jinya for more details.
Please give our proposal some consideration.
- Signed, Windmire Commander Kerrigan
"... So, they want me back, huh..."
A gangly, raven-haired fellow walked down a hall-like path of trees beneath the foggy Nohrian skies with a pensive look on his grimy visage. An ebony pegasus astride him was strapped to a small cart of boxes, plodding along at a leisurely pace.
"It's not like I hate Nohr... I have a hard time reconciling myself with the king," spoke the man to his companion, "We're just the knight on the chessboard. Somewhat important, but could really give a hurtin' when we need to." His words received a snort, "Well, heck, if I know if this is gonna kill us. I know this kind of thing will give us some better compensation than scraping for gold by playing rickshaw. You know I care more about you than myself, right?" The pegasus' head dipped. "Yeah... well... I know I should take better care of myself. But, uh, that's a little beyond the point here..."
Soon enough, the pair found themselves crossing over the Bottomless Canyon. The fort he was to deliver the supplies was not a far walk now, although it did look a little worse for wear just from where he stood.
"Huh," the man muttered, "I wonder if anyone's still here."
The two eventually made it to the mouth of the fort, where two Nohrian soldiers suddenly appeared.
"Halt!" one of them barked, "Who are you, and what is your business here?!"
The man scratched his head and pointed at the cart pulled by the pegasus, "Hrm... Sir Crow Arkwright of the former Brigham Knight Unit. Commander Kerrigan from Windmire sent me with supplies..."
Suddenly, and almost desperately, the two soldiers ran toward the supply cart and opened one of the boxes. Sure enough, it was full of rations and vulneraries.
"We're saved!" the other exclaimed with nearly a sob.
The rider blinked and took a closer gander at the soldiers. Their faces were a touch angular, no doubt from needing to starve themselves between meals...
"Let's take it on in, boys," spoke the gawky fellow with a wave of his hand, "There's enough to last your bunch another week." Shortly after speaking, the soldiers then escorted the mercenary into the compound. Immediately after stepping inside, the rider bore witness to the internal damage on the fort, along with the pitiful faces that patrolled about. "Where's your commander?" he asked with a raise of his brow.
"Commander Campbell? Dead," was the reply, "We found him headless with one of his other officers in the stables after the insurrection, with two others missing in action. We suspect the same fate, if not worse."
"We have Commander Crest directing the fort," spoke the other, he attempted to lean in toward the flier, "... she's... hell of a lot tougher than Campbell was... best stay on your toes, mate."
There was a lack of excitement within Amelia when she found out she was going to be sent to a battleworn fort. This was the second time this Nohrian army was going to be testing her patience, the first being when she encountered Naito in the Ice Tribe home. Still, she would prove her loyalties soon enough.
The fort was run with an iron fist. Amelia found her pathways parted when she walked by and her men were almost nonexistent. The time she spent at the fort was wearing on her. A clear malnutrition showed on her face, though it had been caked over with makeup. While they waited on supplies rations were limited. That included Amelia's as well, at her own call. She wasn't the type to be a glutton while the people around her went hungry. Though maybe it would have been better if she had. Her attitude definitely showed it.
"What are you two dawdling around here for?" She sneered at the men and made her approach. Her riding crop held threateningly in her hands. "I had asked you to hunt." She didn't let herself be phased by the new comer. The dark flier was a military unit that Amelia knew little of, though the Pegasus he rode put her on guard. "State your name and purpose."
The backs of the two soldier's straightened at the voice as their hands automatically thudded against their chests.
"Commander Crest!" they both exclaimed.
Crow blinked as the woman drew near and gave her a quick preview from where he stood. Her whimsical hair was a lovely silvery white, whilst her stately garb was of a bold navy blue. The implements of her impressive uniform gave her the picture of power and prestige.
But above all, her face was of striking beauty. If given the time, he would sculpt a bust to commemorate a gorgeous face like hers.
Of course, there was no doubt she made good use of her crop when a soldier fell out of line, and as such, there was no time to admire her exquisite charm.
"Commander," he greeted with a raspy voice along with his salute, "I am Crow Arkwright of the former Brigham Knight Brigade. I was sent by Commander Kerrigan from Windmire to bring your unit supplies and medicine." One of his hands slid subtly into his coat and pulled out the neatly-folded letter with a broken wax seal. "As of this moment, I am just a mercenary under orders by an employer."
For now, he naturally assumed that she was informed of his situation with the Windmire commander. If not, he was very eager to confess of his troubles. Amelia
The woman's face remained as emotionless as she could muster when he spoke of his former alliance. She wasn't about to look the gift horse in the mouth here. The man was here on a mission to bring them food and supplies from Windmire. It would be foolish to cause trouble now. Still, there was something a bit inane about these fallen soldiers trying to creep back into the ranks of the Nohrian forces. There was no turning back once a soldier turned his back on his country, no gifts of food and weapony could change that.
She caught the gaze of the two men and waved the crop to the crates of supplies. "You two have volunteered to take these to the store room. Along with Mr Arkwright and myself." She wouldn't have anything going missing on her watch. She would take stock and ration it out as needed while they waited on further support. Her attention turned to Crow while she gazed him up and down. A slender fellow. His dark clothing and hair was a stark contrast from his pale skin. She wondered if he was the type to be a hero of the night and try to bathe himself in mystery. Still, she couldn't ignore his mannerisms. Likely remains from when he was within Nohr's forces.
She stepped towards him with her brows lifted in interest. "You're very formal for a mercenary," the woman cooed. "I like that about you." She removed the letter from his hands. "See that your job gets completed and accompany us to the store room." Because Amelia wasn't about to lift a finger in carrying a single bit of these supplies.
Ah, a compliment--it's been a while since he received one of those. Usually anything positive was directed to his pegasus.
"Academy standard, commander," acknowledged Crow with another salute, and at her order, "As you say." He then moved toward his pegasus and began to unburden her of the cart. The two soldiers, a bit puzzled at their exchange, wasted no time in picking up the cart handles and pulling it toward the hall where the storage room would be found. When they had parked the cart, they sluggishly began to pick up and move the boxes into the supply room.
Given their pace, it would take forever for just the two of them to stock the storage. It was slightly unsettling to Crow that they let their condition slow them down, and they were younger than him. Heck, he's starved many times before while he was on the job, but that wouldn't set him back from giving good results.
Kids these days... he thought, They don't make 'em like they used to. That said, the rider wrapped his arms around one of the boxes and heaved it onto his shoulder, then slid past the two slow-moving youngsters. "'Scuze me, boys."
Upon entering the supply room, Crow took a gander around. There was a single crate standing on its own in the corner of the room, and even then, rats had already been hopping around it. These guys were in pretty bad shape.
"Is this the only supply room?" asked the rider aloud as he put the crate down. Amelia
The woman lifted her eye in mild interest. This was quite a strong young man. She followed him first with her eyes. There had to have been more of a body beneath that thick black cloak for him to lift what he had. Either that or the men at this fort were exceptionally weak. Amelia was ready to go with the lather option. The had been on the brink of starvation after all.
The commander carried herself upon her clicking heels behind the men as she followed Crow into the store room. "The rest of the supplies I keep under lock and key within my personal chambers. I am the only person who has access to it so I may see that it gets distributed to the men equally as its needed. You seem surprised. Did you not realized the poor state that this fort would be in? Commander Campbell has run it to the ground under his poor management and in the failure to capture a single fugitive. Such a sorry leader has no room to run a fort, and I, for one, am glad that he was removed. Forcefully." The opportunity allowed her to elevate in rank and gain control here. It was something she wasn't expecting for a number of years.
What cold words she had spoken, nonetheless true. A commander who couldn't manage a single fugitive should not have had his station in the first place. The guy had the merciful exit, for who knows what the king would've punished him with? A fate worse than death? The rider's skin crawled at the thought.
The two soldiers who followed finally managed to catch up and put down the crates. While their faces showed fatigue, they wasted no time to collect the next pieces of cargo. Nothing was more motivating than the idea of bigger portions.
Crow's brows furrowed as his eyes left the two soldiers and came back to Commander Crest. "... I wasn't around to see the chaos, but I could guess how bad it was walking in. The fugitive must've had a gaggle of comrades to spring him out." Amelia
The woman glanced around the room with her piercing eyes until they landed on Crow. She sized him up in those few seconds. He was no longer loyal to Nohr and thus had no place in hearing the details of this fort and its defeat at the hands of three mere people - two woman and an ex warden of this captured fort. Her eyes then landed on the other men with an intimidating glare. The look itself said, 'you will speak no word of this.'
"As I understand it, a group of people invaded the fort to assist with his escape in the night. He has found a massive following in the Hoshidan lands." Amelia made sure to leave out the details of how it had only been a three people. One of which she could only assume was the woman she had tortured weeks before after Northella had captured her and brought her to the fort. Even knowing now that the woman would cause problems this big, Amelia refused to change her belief or have any regrets on this.
"It stands now that watching this fort recuperate is my responsibility. It is under heavy watch and nobody goes in or out without my say so. Had my men been more competent, you would have been dead where you stood." The woman turned around, her hand playfully swept under her bangs to sweep them to the side. "Instead, you got to deal with me."
The two soldiers shrunk from the commander's glare as they put down the next set of boxes and quickly ran back out to get another set.
So, the commander opted for the filtered version. That runaway sure must have pretty good charisma or money to get his own force. The black marks on the ground and remnants of blood splatter gave way to some rather wild imagination.
"Right. I came at a good time, then," he murmured as he readjusted his vest, "Otherwise, your men would've killed me and my pegasus, then probably watch as the cart break from its bonds from the horse's weight, dumping all of its fragile cargo down the hilltop, spilling rations and vulneraries into a big mess on the ground. We're where we are because none of what I mentioned actually happened, and therefore is an even bigger waste of time to be discussing it."
The man folded his arms as his visible eye squinted, "While we're in the mood, I'll refer to the letter now, commander. The Windmire commander desires that I be reinstated into the Nohrian military, but he didn't mention any specifics since I'm to discuss this with you."
If she were to give into her temper, there wasn't anything for them to discuss. He was given free leave after his errand was complete, but it would be a disappointing thing to not have even touched upon the topic of restoring his status as a soldier. Amelia
Oh heck no. The woman gave a sharp exhale in the form of a sarcastic laugh. The roll of her eyes was clearly visible. The letter was held out in her hands. It's writing and seal were no doubt from the commander in Windmire. These men did not get it. The woman walked across the room. The large wooden door was closed behind her. Her keys slipped into the lock so it was just the two of them inside. Amelia then faced the man.
"Do you really think I would reinstate your status as a soldier?" She asked. Her hand rested against the hilt of the rapier at her hip. "You have already turned your back on Nohr once by leaving the forces and have turned to being a lowly mercenary. Have you stayed loyal to Nohr in that absence or has the temptation of gold driven you to turn against your country?" Her heels clicked against the stone floor as she approached a flickering candle. The letter in her hand was held close. Its papers turned a charred grey as fire danced at it before a flame finally caught.
Amelia dropped the burning letter to the ground. "Tell me why I should let you stay? What good can you do for me?"
Great. One of these kinds of people. Nohr hires some real nutcases to work for them.
Oh, yeah, the king is a nutcase, too. Why should he be surprised about this?
Crow scratched the back of his head as the woman burned the letter. Seems like he was on his own, after all.
"What, huh..." the man's deep voice seemed to rumble in the room, "What, indeed. A mercenary is only as good as his word, but a Dark Flier? That's an expensive asset to throw out." He leaned against the wall and cocked his head to the side, "Have you ever made short work of Hoshidan diviners or their flyin' cavalry? From that crop you're always flippin' around, I take it you're a horse rider, and hell if that kind of speed makes it any easier for you to deal with heavy magic." A subtle, red tint glinted from his shadowy right eye, "And, uh, from the damage I've seen around the fort and all... magic's a big problem, isn't it? Even bigger, actually, since the rumor's on the wind of a witch operating within Hoshido."
His neck seemed to crane downward as he curled his fingers in to touch fingertips, "Anything more dangerous than a Faceless is a rogue witch." He gently sucked in air, then stretched his fingers out and moved his hands opposite form each other, "... huuu... pow. Ashes." He looked at her and shook his head with eyebrows raised, "... That's what happens when you have a witch, Commander Crest. You want your boys shakin' in their boots because of a woman who might be a hell of a lot scarier than you? Tch." He leaned back as his hands moved emphatically with his words, "You. Need. Me. It's that simple, but I ain't beggin' for a spot in your army, commander, and I ain't playin' at being Kerrigan's delivery boy, either. But the next time you're attacked by a bunch of mages during tea time, and I'm gone? Pft, well, that's on you." Amelia
Oh no. This man was not going to play that card on him. He was no more important than any body else. He wasn't some kind of gift sent from some spectacular outside force. If he wanted to believe it that way, he could go somewhere else. If, that is, he survived this moment. "Your class as a dark flier means very little to me. There are plenty of other units to counter a witch on the battlefield. You are not the only dark flier in the force either. And there are many that exhibit much more loyalty than you ever shall." She brushed by him. The crop in her hand rubbing lightly upon his chin. It wasn't her weapon of choice just because she was a cavalier. Amelia had found it rather useful in other ways.
He didn't seem to understand that's where this all came from in the end. Amelia wasn't fearful of magic. Though deep down, she also understood how benefitial it would be to have this man as part of her forces. She wouldn't show it. This wasn't his idea. Nor was it from orders in Windmire. She walked past him and sat upon a storage crate. Her legs crossed out in front of her and she leaned slightly to give a glimpse of a bit more skin. "Loyalty is my greatest fear," she told the man. "Do tell me Mr. Arkwright, why did you leave in the first place? Why do you think I should let you come back? Why are you pushing so hard now to let you join once again? You have no responsibilities to Nohr as a mercenary. You could easily just ignore the orders."
"I didn't see any other pegasus when I was coming in, ma'am," the man replied with a scoff, "And if they were to boast any loyalty, it would be to a commander they cherish and have high respect for, or are begged, and sometimes forced to work with. We're one of the highest of academy standard, a middle ground weapon to counter most threats." He cracked his neck to the side, "You should be aware that there are only so few true Dark Fliers in the world, but nobody's gonna share."
However, what she had asked was a touch surprising to him. She wasn't aware of the mass knight termination?
"Now, onto what you're fixin' for..." Crow grumbled, "I figured it was old news to you lot. The Knight Discharge two years ago. I was in the unit that was fired by the king himself, because one of our units assisted one of the foot soldiers in deserting." He sucked in air sharply, "... The same soldier who was to be executed here. Funny how that works out... anyway, I was on duty at the time when the charge was placed on us, so I was given blame for it, too." He turned toward the woman, "I don't know if somebody didn't like us or not, but we were collectively disbanded under orders of the king... and also severely punished."
Without a wasted movement, Crow lifted the bangs covering his right eye, revealing a crimson sphere sitting within an eye socket of grisly, scarred, discolored skin. "I was... Sorceror Iago's play thing for a good month before they finally kicked me out with my horse. Needless to say, I wouldn't show my face around Windmire after that ever again." He leaned back with his arms folded, "I was never given the choice to stay out of the war, and neither was I given the choice to stay in the army. My life has been dictated by people like yourself, then when I'd be strung up high and dry, I couldn't do anything about it. So, as a man of the western divide..." a solemn sigh escaped his lips, "I said to myself that I would try to see if I can believe in Nohr again." Amelia
This man was all over the place. Did he want to join this or not? He spoke of the loyalty of others only to distract her from the mistakes that he himself has made. The roll of her eyes was visible once again until her delicate hands reached to her temple to rub her eyes. It was just so stupid. "Your class as a dark flier means little to me," she repeated. She had already told him there were other percautions to deal with people who used magic: weapons, unique soldiers, and even beasts could stand up to magic to outspeed them and tear them down with a dangerous strike. "You're selling nothing to me. And besides, do you not hear what you are saying? The king himself disbanded you. I will not go back on orders. You will not ever be allowed to join Nohr's army under my rank."
What he didn't realize, was now, he had that choice. His life once dictated by everyone around him. He was cast aside and no longer an interest. Now he was only here because of a letter. "You have to fight for what you want," she told him. "Unfortunately, I'm not the one you must go through."
No, he said enough. It all came back around at him by his own words. She was right about the executive order, and it definitely wasn't in her hands to simply recruit him.
"I see," said Crow as his assertiveness lessened, "But why would Commander Kerrigan even suggest a recruitment, anyway? Even if he's high commander, there's still the king's own command..." Now that the letter had been burnt, he couldn't refer back to what it had said, and even then his memory of the words faded into obscurity in the back of his mind. Instead, suspicion rooted in the place of promises.
Did the high commander attempt to override the king's authority and use him as a pawn?
"Looks like I'm in a bind here," said the man with a furrowed brow, "I can't confirm my own thoughts since the letter is gone, but I guess it's better that way." He twisted his head to the side and grunted, "Well... I won't force it any longer. I guess I'll stick to being a merc until I hear word from the king himself."
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