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!
We are open to roleplayers of all skill levels. If you are interested in joining, check out the discord chat and meet some of our members. Or if you're ready to jump right in, go ahead and join the site!
Location: Nohrian plains Time: Dawn Open roleplay, up to two additional participants.
Hundreds of Nohrian soldiers had gathered. They slept in tents, the back of carts, or if need be, the cold ground. Early morning, their fires grew weaker as the sun claimed its rightful place. Dim light spread across the land. This army of soldier, common-folk, and unpaid mercenaries was slowly waking. Horses galloped through their ranks. Criers rang bells to spur them faster. The drowsy got ready, while others hadn't slept. Their fear, their excitement, their dread, too great for rest.
Not really a priest, or religious, Fae Sherwood walked between them. She carried incense while offering a half-memorized prayer. A few desperate soldiers thanked her, while the hopeless joined in prayer. At the end of this row, the commander that united these people against a common foe: The roving army of risen.
It started as a rumor, groups of the undead mobbing through a graveyard. Left unchecked, they moved onto various towns. Each person they killed joined their army and soon enough, they threatened to swallow Nohr whole. The kingdom found itself in a war of two fronts. Fae had no heart for killing people and so, she found herself here. At least her medical training wouldn't be useless. She sighed aloud, stopping mid-prayer, so much for being a dancer.
The chanting woman approached the nearest soldier. "Would you like a prayer?"
If there was anything that gave him the heeby-jeebies, it was the undead. There was something disconcerting about watching whole villages swallowed by undead, and while the unsavory gore was nothing new, seeing a man with a sword stuck through his head, dragging his feet through the dust with a blank, inhuman stare as his game face... that was a little rough on the morale.
He was here for the sake of Nohr the Bold and Beautiful, rather than its incomprehensibly stale government. Already twice had he tasted the incredulousness of Nohrian politics, and he wasn't going to try that again! He'll get by just by doing mercenary work, even if it seems like his latest job probably might be the worst he's seen...
The mercenary sat with his weight upon his lance, unwillingly to move from his spot. The last wave of undead took its toll on their defenses, and while they have yet to breach the perimeter, it took a lot of wind out of everyone's sails. This fellow was one of them, even if he fought comfortably from the sky using magic.
In retrospect, there was a good thing happening here. They hid behind walls using ballistae, cannon fire, and magical artillery to cull the numbers comfortably. Nevertheless, as the last wave ended, the worrisome thought came to many minds. Even the mercenary, who fought in the sky throwing a rain of fireballs down on the enemy, knew that he didn't have that much of an influence on the numbers.
We need more ammunition soon...
As he thought this, a young, charming woman had approached him with a simple inquiry. While her battle dress was a call to question, he wouldn't let that bother him for both their sakes.
"A prayer, huh..." he sighed as he pulled himself up, "... I ain't against it, miss. Every little bit helps." Fae
"Alright then." Fae said with a foced smile. Her fatigue and disbelief showed through tired eyes, She drew a long breath, saying "Gods, I bring this man before you. I ask that you protect him in the upcoming battle an-"
"Protect him?" An older man scoffed to his their right. He looked to be in his late fifties, age revealed by the graying hair on his balding head. His boots were covered in mud while calloused hands wrapped a wounded sword.
"Why would the gods watch over him? There are countless others out there, waiting to die." He flicked a hand towards the unending row of would-be soldiers. "Did they protect the men bleeding out in the tent? The slaughtered animals you've left behind in the feilds? Did they protect my daughter? No. They let her die, just like they'll let him die, let you die girl. The gods have forsaken us, leaving us these demons in their wake. If anyone is going to protect him, it's him. top wasting your time with prayer and pick up a sword. Or do something useful damn it."
Fae's first reaction was to stab back with a tongue she spent the last few years of her life pefecting, she didn't. Her mouth hung open. Saucer eyes stood wide as she watched the man in silence. Finally, her mouth shut. She blinked all aggrivation and said.
One of the mercenary's eyes popped open at the interruption. This old man was a sour grape, huh?
"Every person's got his date with death, old man. You know that," the flier grunted as his grip tightened around the handle of his lance, "It's how you go about it when it stares you in the face. You wanna blame the gods for our troubles? Hell, if they care to listen to the pitiful rambling of a tiny speck. There ain't nothin' we can do about our circumstances." He cracked his neck to the side as his eyelids narrowed, his words laced with a subtle venom, "Neither do we need any pessimistic defeatism directed at someone who's trying to do boost morale. These men need it, even if you don't, so mind your own damn business."
After he spoke, he grabbed the tail end of his cloak and wiped his face with it before he turned his head back toward the woman, "You were saying?" Fae
"These men don't need morale." The man shot back. "They need training, better weapons. You can't just hand a farmer some sword and expect him to be a soldier!"
Loud ramblings drew the attention of nearby soldiers, yet he didn't seem to care. There was a slight relief in hearing the grim man's words. The aging fellow agreed with some parts of it and the fighty nature of his opponent seemed morale boosting enough for him. Insteada of pushing the subject, the man walked off. Gathering attention died behind him.
Fae watched him scamper off, brushing vibrant strands from her eyes as she turned back to the man beside her.
"Would you believe that wasn't the first time that hapened? These people are so resistant to even the slightest amount of hope." The young girl sighed. "But anyways, sweet mother, sweet mother, protect your child as he fights. Let him cleanse this land of fear and blood, yet come home safely. Watch over all these people, let them know your warmth. Be with them from now, til their moment of death."
So, there were farmers mixed into this lot, huh... the old man was right about that.
Still, was that really any excuse to not keep up the fight?
I really let myself go that time.
The man lowered his head as the girl continued her chant, and when she had finished he raised it once more with a smile on his face.
"Thanks for that," he said with a weak salute. He looked back toward the line of men who sat around with miserable looks on their faces. "... Soldier or no, they've got a lot that they're protecting. There're a few villages down the road past the fort, and we're the last line of defense. It doesn't matter what skill any man has, they just gotta remember what they're doing this for." He leaned back against a black mass behind him, "I'm a merc without a home or country, but I have Heckle, at least." He flicked his thumb to the large equine figure lying on her side, "She's all I got left." Fae
"You're welcome." She said with a forced smile. The woman stood quiet, listening to the man talk. She glanced to the resting horse. "At least you have that. Some people have nothing, some have lost it all. Keep an eye on her." The fallen dancer started off. "You don't want to end up like that man. I woul-"
A chorus of long horns broke the sky. Those sitting jumped right up. The burning smoke in her hand fell onto the grass at her feet.
"Oh god." One of the soldiers muttered. "They're coming." "I thought we had another day..." She said.
A captain shot up. "Battle stations! The beasts are coming!"
Eyelids opened a little wider at the blaring alarm. Relief of struggle was short-lived and the hands of battle beckoned once more.
The mercenary surveyed the surrounding area. Both the tired and the weak dragged themselves to ballista launchers and cannons, while those who boasted strength prepared to meet the enemy at the front line.
"Well," he sighed as he rose to his feet, "No time to stand on ceremony." He patted the back of Heckle, "Up, up. Time to get to work, darlin'. Let's give these godforsaken monsters what for."
With a grunt, the horse got back on her feet and stretched her magnificent wingspan. The rider stroked her rear haunch and looked back to the priestess before him, "Hey. Name's Crow, by the way. What's yours?" Fae
"It's Fae." She said, blindly reaching for the missing key at her side. "They didn't leave me enough time to get to the ballistas." She raced off. "I need to get behind them and keep their rhythm. Stay safe!"
The horde of clumsy soldiers made navigatin near impossible. The dancer bounced between people, dodging bobbing blades. Panicking faces surrounded her. She made out scattered voices.
"They're cominng! Dear god they're coming!" "Hold together!" The field commander ordered "You break here, they win!"
A well dressed soldier rode through. He wore no hemlet, allowing his shaggy head of blond hair to shake with each trot. A sword in his tight grip, he hed it to the sky. "Get ready! Be strong! We can hold firm! They fight for nothing! Remember what you're fighting for!"
As his speech went on, people gathered around him. Filled with hope, the final word earned multiple shouts. Fae glanced back, moved in her own way. She caught Crow's eyes. She gave him a deep nod befrore being bumped into by charging men.
"Good luck, Fae," said Crow just before she had left, "Gods help us all." He promptly alighted his mare and stroked her head before commanding her to proceed forward.
It was times like these that the rider was grateful for having a nice height over the mob. With everyone in a rush to get themselves back in gear, it was a wonder how they managed to survive the last few waves.
The captain of the unit took a stand at this time and spoke a good word. The spirits of the soldiers were strengthened, and new resolve had settled in.
Huh, looks like we're on the same wavelength now.
At this time, he caught glance to Fae, who seemed to be joining the artillery effort. He exchanged a nod to hers before she would disappear into the ranks. The rider rotated the horse to a clear runway.
"Make way, I'm ascending!" shouted Crow as the pegasus began to build speed. Soldiers moved aside and watched as the beast took flight.
It was time to estimate the number of monsters they had to fight through, thus the rider turned toward the battlefield.
The fog on the field of war had settled and shadows appeared in great succession. It seemed that their previous wave paled in comparison to what lay before them.
"That's a lot of zombies," the rider grumbled to his pegasus, "Makes you wonder where they're all coming from." Nevertheless, the rider pushed forth, wielding a tome of Fire. Fae
The rookies ahead of her lifted heavy balls and slammed them into their place. A drummer, though shivering at the horde of undead, began his weary beat. Fae stepped between the soldiers. Jamming cotton into her ear, she started her dance. It was timed to both the beat and the soldier's reloading. She flinched with each booming shot, having to restart each time they fired. Six shots were fired. They coudn't be sure of what they hit. Blood was blood and they were told not to worry about it.
The ground cracked beneath their feet. Distant soldiers screamed out, yet not the cries of battle. Rough dirt shattered. Hands rose from below. Dark magic wrapped their rotting wrists. Fae jumped back as the undead rose around the cannons. She ripped her key from the box to her side and went to work. Her weak strike cracked against the thing's skull. It continued rising. The soldier to her right shrieked as the spurting zombie ripped into his leg. She watched him die without moving. It was clear in that moment. She wasn't a soldier.
"Man, never thought we had this large a population of dead people."
Heckle let out a snort at the rider's words. Even if he were capable of shooting magic safely from the sky, that didn't matter much with the the advancing horde. Was that ten thousand? Twenty?
A cannonball crashed beneath him, completely blowing some of the dead apart. What happened next was a shock, if not an unthinkable taboo.
The advancing horde seized the broken corpses of their comrades, then immediately devoured them with a ravenous, animalistic fervor. All that was left after they had passed was blood splatter, apart from the gaping dent in the ground.
These things were like locusts! They never behaved like this in the previous waves!
"We're going back, Heckle!" Crow exclaimed as he pulled on the reins, "We need to grab who we can!" Shortly after he had spoken, they turned and made a beeline for the fort. However, it was at this time that the undead had begun to breach the wall.
Crow raised his tome in the air and sent a rain of fire down upon the climbers as he passed inside. Those within were already engaged with the enemy, and some who had succumbed were already being devoured. Fae
The devoured man to Fae's left cried out. His cry was drowned in gushing blood as they ripped into his neck. His bloody hand reached for her. His index finger, missing. The undead brought him down. The dancer backed away as his gurgling moans were overrun by the undead. New hands breached the ground, snatching the woman's leg. Glancing down, Fae shrieked. It yanked her to the ground. Horror faded in the wake of gripping pain. She lifted her prized, bronze key and smacked away at the splitting nails. As the beast's head emerged, she smacked at its skull. Busted brains spilled onto her foot. The dancer jumped to her feet as she spewed vomit. Further mongrels swarmed towards her dead soldiers. One shambled to her right. She reacted out of blind instinct. They key bashed her assailant away. Frightful eyes danced about the battlefield. Each sight was filled with gore and dying men. Cries for mothers laced gnawing death. Through tears, Fae noticed the distant castle. Its stone waited beyond a sea of bodies. She found just enough space to rush through. Contemplation meant nothing. Survival was all that mattered. Fae called herself a coward as she made for safety.
The scene over the fort wall was nothing but grisly and disheartening.
Screw morale, these monsters didn't care none about it. With the way things looked, it would take a miracle or divine intervention to turn this whole thing around.
"The battle is lost here, Heckle," Crow sighed as he stroked the mane of his pegasus, "Damn shame it is. Let's get going while we..."
He had turned his head to spot a small figure hopping through swaths of bodies. It seems as though Fae has managed to survive the initial invasion, despite being placed nearer to the wall. Maybe her tenacity for survival would save her today.
"Ya, Heckle! Let's go!"
At his words, the pegasus dove with wings outstretched and galloped upon the battlefield, crushing all beneath her hooves. Their enemy had speed, but no bipedal creature could outdo a healthy warhorse.
They raced across the battlefield toward the fleeing dancer.
"Fae!" the rider called out as he reached his arm toward her, "Take my hand!"
Echoing death never ended. One cry bled into another. Every hellish groan bled into another. Distant cannons defied the undead. Their explosive boom meant nothing to consuming horde. Even to Fae, as she charged through allied bodies, pushed the sound away. She knew, they would cease within minutes.
As the fort grew in size, so did the carnage. Soldiers that had broken their lines were met with a sizable force between them and stone safety. Two men fought hard ahead of her. Their blades tasted rotten flesh that showed no pain. One misplaced swing cut into a human soldier. That painful distraction sent his body to the beasts. The man that killed him stared in horror before being devoured. Fae was awestruck by their gore, so much so that she had frozen.
Massive wings pierced the sky, drumming out the sky's azure protection.
"Take my hand!" She heard.
Fae hadn't realized who it was, nor did she care. Her gloved hand shot out and clutched his for dear life. She didn't hesitate as she leaped off the ground and mounted their winged steed.
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