The Lord of Battleships; Reyon Orison, men look up at him to bow first. The breeze of the sea is blowing mixed with the smoke of shouting soldiers and commanders training the recruits. Seashores erected with the banner of the country itself, the Sea serpent and the Shakars, ravaging the barrier of the sea it crosses its path.
The training recruits together with the high lord commanders were in a small dry field, filled with wooden swords scattered beside the castle's grand stairs. Two men face each other, a recruit of the Shakars. The recruit in the lower portion is heavily armored with fresh-polished metal cuisse, greaves, and a pair of solarets. Chest plate heavy as their heated blades begin to rise. Pair by pair they train, wrestle to acquire the means of maritime hand to hand combats as they dominate the ships.
The Headman takes a stare as two of them exchange blows of the wooden swords affix in their fiery hands [https://img.wattpad.com/5bc2874a2b557a02056a58f209b8e4fe115b3531/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f68663864595f4f594132504373513d3d2d313130353135353139352e313730626332623665363230373132313639363330373738383039382e676966?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
The Headman takes a stare as two of them exchange blows of the wooden swords affix in their fiery hands. It gets on and on, the claps and groan keeps roaring, cracks of wood and bam of flesh as each of the play swords hit them in their heads. There are horde of men in every corner as they wait their turn for the training camp, crowded amongst watchers with the highest titles and wrecking havoc, hearing their voices commanding them how to join the greatest clan has ever been built. To be one of the soldiers of the Garrick, soldiers of the northern summit must never yield.
Morris: Come on Brad get up! take the hit!
Morris Naaron in colusion with the active commander covered with salt of sweat, the broad man know by many; Otter Vedal. Sealed its fate onwards, onto the valor as a strength of bear. Their fortress recruits get the slash and bang onto the armor. His blood mate Brad was having a hard time to get onto his own two feet. His knees are killing him slowly, the pain never flew from the blow that even if the poleyn that was built with smooth metal was enough to protect them.
Lord Orison: Pick up the wood sword with your mouth. Drop the irons, pick up one of the steel bars beside the ramp. Follow Lord Otter Vedal in the sea shores. Move your asses!
Lord Reyon Orison commanded Bradley Mirikan stranded on the ground. He sparred with his brother Arron Mirikan who also wanted to dive into the depths of life and death. Two of them are beaten, bruised up from their forearms and slim faces.
Lord Reyon commanded with savagery on the recruits. A naked knight, perhaps what they call it, has seen wearing the typical brown shorts, leglet, and black jerkins to sheet their bruised bodies. The Garrick castle was known for its history and indestructible build despite its ancient form. A black structure with six guarded battlements, left side facing the dazzle of the sun and beam of the moon by the sky on the other. The portcullis' fading color, and above the moving gates was a hanging flag of blue representing a sea dragon half submerged into the depths biting on what appears to be a black sword.
Otter: MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!
They ran on the stiff ramp as they heard the commander ordered them to charge. They bolted their loose feet at a ramp rock carrying a twenty-five kilogram iron bar, then dived on the ice-cold water of the Riela port. The chills came through the pain of contusion, they can feel the rushing amount of blood down every red patches and wound, a sign of relief as the pain crawls away their bodies.
The commander, Otter Vedal, is also known a Grand Orcater. All men of Shakar must wear black tight chausses, surcoats, and sabatons during battle, as ordered of their Two Lord Admirals, in terms of battle, a specially designed heavy iron helmet restricted below the chin was made, containing a sharp iron tip for deep sea charging, and a glass so they can see. The hose behind the helmet extends six hundred feet attached to a battleship so they can get breathable air without getting blood on the nostrils during wartime. Method of the range on deep waters are implemented way back thirty years ago, making use of the long weapon such a spear or a halberd that can penetrate a battleship underneath their stealthy attacks, a mission to aquire silent death while it sails.
The weapon much longer than a jousting lance, thicker than a pike. The first step of being one of the Shakar is the lung capacity, it required as when the assassins like them tend to hide from the deep-sea corals.
Stealthy as an angler fish but deadly as a shark.
Otter: Hold your breath...
He was still grasping the heavy iron training bar in their hands.
Otter: GULF! AND...LOOSE!
Being in the tides of war and within the depths of death there had no sundial, no clock, it is fairly a different side of the world which they do not belong. The order sings it songs and both men sunk onto the water. Freezing, like a shattered ice biting on their knees. The vast emptiness of the terrain was made less distinct as they would expect when they open their eyes in the matter of war, blurry. All it is to hear was the sound of muffling voices above the world. Hesitant, pounding on his head as the pressure bear him while they slowly sink deeper.
Dark blue, never ending black void of the sea, many history it reflects upon them [https://img.wattpad.com/8f4f86368e0a09b6267fb4aa70ef8d36c83ce3b8/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f3578575f624a313337314e6746513d3d2d313130353135353139352e313730626333623261333836623935383536343636343733303931312e676966?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
Dark blue and never ending void of the sea, many history it reflects upon them. From arrows and great swords ripping the ocean lining, monstrous battleships dashing against one another, swords leaving the hands and blood of the warriors leaving their bodies. Trapped in a bubble of the time past is like hearing, seeing, feeling the great valor of the fallen soldiers having a slumber with the fishes. Lingering beneath, the ocean floor where the fate of the dead can meet. Souls of the fallen men and women-at-arms are haunting below their feet, as if whispering with a great blubber of bitter sweet combat they have seen. Fighting the waters itself was then a great challenge, dragging them down to drill holes in the hull to destroy what is conquering their own, and conquering their lives too. Prevail over the liking of the abyss that the soldiers may experience the last descend, over and over again.
Otter Vedal: RISEEE!!!
The sweet senses of rising solace, the smell of the air in such relief that a man can feel, the gaze beyond the blanket of clouds above the heaven of gods was of a sign of a successful mission. It touched the body with comfort as they rise up of the water, the redness of the face slowly vanished and the breath of air fill themselves with pleasure. The Grand Orcater, Otter, sitting on the small, black training boat observing the trainees and the time of the immersion.
Otter Vedal: That is the first segment, make sure that the iron bar is still in your grasp boys, watch me move in the water. When I give you the water helmets, put it on immediately, sink quickly, and move as I do, you understand?
Recruits: We understood Commander!
The commander threw two helmets, immediately putting it on their heads. The helmet must be tight below the chin so the water could suspend, Otter then jumped in the water. Training hose is shorter than what they use in the battle. What they use in the training grounds are just fifty feet and attached to a small boat. Shakars Black battleship also called the Octopia to have about Forty attached helmet and hose to be deployed for them to do the unexpected.
Octopia and the Shakars, the men of the Castle Garrick was charged protecting the islands of Aluthea. When the rivals of their realm made a jointly planned at the lands of men, the Octopia is the last ejected. After years of bold and devastating attacks, the enemy fleet flung all its carnivorous ships at the Trembling Island, from Karik to the Splendor Island. Desperate, the Assassins they call, the Naval Elites committed their drubbing conquest, calling a horde of hundred against the best to protect their fleet; but not of it survived onto hostile to the Massive Battleship known as Octopia.
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They gripped the bar with both hands, shoulder width, lifted the weapon with a straight elbow, and rows within the tug of the water. The pull of the water can never cease to test their feat of strength. More trainees are on the ground, playing with the wooden sword, scolded like minions being tamed by the wretch. Otter submerged with them, they cannot see him properly. He shifted from one hand and swim as if the heavy dummy was just a stick grasped in his wrinkled hands, light as a feather. Desperation goes through their mind as the current was strong, swim with a heavy weapon wondering if they are really moving from one spot to another.
More men wanted to serve, more men wanted to give pleasure, more men wanted gold, more wanted to sacrifice their own existence for the sake of the people behind them.
Everyone left the seaside with their iron bars clutched of weary. At the exact moment, a small crescent boat was coming for the port. Recognizable flag waves swift, soaked dragon remains strong. Rushing in the sand, the bow of the small boat ravaged through the sands, and they made a clear appearance with one of their Elite Commander; Salagor Makaela together with a fisherman, Agaal Venalia aboard the boat. Under the arch of stone the small boat passes through, it erects about fourty feet and the other ranged eighty, above the ocean where they practice diving.
Aagal: Good Morning m'Lords!
He greets with a smile. Sir Reyon Orison halted everyone, greeted both men as a respect for their duties.
Lord Reyon: Exact time eh? Since we are all here, I receive a letter from the Council, we're heading south for Lordaeral, the new man or lady is going to sit on the throne, it's said on the letter that the king doesn't need a heir, no one will inherit the throne except we vote for one. Pack your shit up, the council is waiting for our guidance. And before I finish this...
Nods from Salagor to the Lord Orcater. He gave the letter to Otter. Eeveryone engaged and fix a stare to the Lord Orcater.
Lord Reyon: Commanders listen up! Form your platoon into two columns within the Drawbridge. Ten Soldiers, Five Commanders will remain to train the recruits until we return.
Going down with Agaal, everyone greets the man with such valor, a seal in his chest seal of a pointed sword.
Salagor: It seems that you have much recruit Sir Reyon, I never seen this many desperate men try to fight for our land before. The sea is crowded with brave men. I have brought plenty of fishes for all of you. We can save it for the rest of the day.
Salagor said as he stepped out of the boat to meet the lone Lord Orcater. Agaal takes hold of the nets of the fishes, others helped him to carry the nets and the pouch of gold that's too astonishing to look at.
Lord Reyon: You both extracted all of this?
Lord Reyon Orison with his intimidating glance with a mix of stupefaction in them.
Agaal: Yes m'Lord, with bare hands as well. with a proud tone of voice.
They fled to the barracks with one net of fish and five stones of gold still dripping with blood, for the blacksmith to make it as a Nakilae, a currency being refurbished as pretty as what there is beneath the sea. Amongst one of the most powerful armed men of Aluthea, they have also needed the powerful words to speak. Agaal came up to him after he settled the nets inside the barracks' storehouse above the Soldier's stable of the Castle in a hurry.
Salagor: Truthfully, I don't remember anything, the only thing I remember is we catch fish before the morning comes and by the way...I apologize for sleeping, letting you fish and mine by yourself. May my words mark at you with acceptance Agaal.
Aagal: Commander Makaela...you've been a good lad after going to the sea with me. There are no worries, I'll never tell Lord Orison that you slept for a while during your service at the sea, trust me. Let me tell you, a man can gain true vigor when he earns by himself. I still want to give you some of that precious gold m'lord, I don't want lacks of you.
Said him, complemented after he has gone down the stair, tapping the back of his heavy chestplate as they go. Salagor did not feel victorious about the reward he was about to get, he felt shame carried with his back making him weak, but then he moved on to the knight rooms.
The Castle Barracks are not that big as expected for a resplendent magical realm, It was composed of Troop stables, Officer's stable, Cavalry or a field where they swordplay and wrestle, the field where most recruit survive and bow for honor or wa... [https://img.wattpad.com/8b8e14a54d7952b2d77e247aa9b8b24c4c30aa01/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f63464d784a314e6c5a4f435435513d3d2d313130353135353139352e3136393465373137366265356463353133313232303639363532382e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
The Castle Barracks are not that massive for the folks as expected for a resplendent magical realm. It was composed of Troop stables, Officer's stable, Cavalry or a field where they practice they sword skills and wrestle for bare combats. The cavalry field where most recruit survive and bow for honor or walk, either shame as one of the weakest links to join the forces.
The ancient rites of Shakars, the spirit of the fallen had been saved from eternity, but like all who encounter the swords, attacks on the islands and the dreaded century they found it beyond recall. No longer at the mercy of a world born mortal body, the very lifeblood became a fount of staggering power amongst them.
They hold not of rusted rakes and pushing wheel barrows, everyone is in hilt of sword grips. Few leather of a clothing but a plate of metal bearing. The troop's stable is so narrow, filled with hooks, bags, windows, fire torch, and their belongings on every room side by side. The end of the hall is the area where their weapons lay, the arsenal. The smell of Horse manure was disgusting, the smell stays in the nostrils even they got out of it.
Akeleyde: Take the armament inside, make it fast.
Lady Akeleyde, without her visor behind the door snapped. A beautiful she-warrior with her red eyes and braided hair, but they know her as a skulk presence of terror like a blood copy of Lord Orison. Her duty was to make sure every weapon is polished, never any iron rusted and lost, counted as from taken and to return. They accept targets for political or mercenary reasons in both genders, if they are sworn to be, a figure of great power is no more likely to be eliminated than a peasant.. Their killings bear on commands of a ruler a man who pass the sentence.
As fast as they needed, Salagor took his shield with a black dragon rising up from the blue water, faded by near in one's dotage. Agaal went to his little back in the middle of the cobblestone hall and reach for his dagger. Silky, bulky and the metal alloy looks small but its ends was sharp. A Slarkine Dagger, stems and weeds in the verge of grip and scale of a fish underneath it. A secret of him finally revealed to his close comrade. Salagor in curiosity asked where did he find it and how much does it cost.
Agaal: My brother gave me this one three years ago, he was the Lord Orcater in Castle Garrick. Fought with many allies, it was years back then. I did not know where did he find this, but one thing for sure is that this is precious than any other gold you'll find. He is ashamed for once, he must be the one who died before the others and I am nervous for the fact that now he's fighting for the throne after he got thrown off the stead of the Garrick being one of the highest lords.
The commander was filled with surprise, it was the first thing he heard from his closest of friend's brother to get along the highest kingdom authorization. They are walking slowly on the fences of the castle, many soldiers running downstairs to grab the necessary things to prepare for the stone voting. In their bags and hold a grasp on their arsenal, he made it stay behind his scabbard for no one will take it from him.
Salagor: Be thankful instead, you see, if your brother got himself sit on that precious royal seat, you'll be a prince, aren't you?
He was being sarcastic and laughed.
Agaal: Well, it's the time where I also get money and women. Like that Akeleyde girl, just want to lay her in the bed and pick her with one of my sword. Sip wine and fuck bitches.
The laugh goes on until they go before the opened iron gates.
Salagor got armored white courser as his ride together with his fellow commanders, Morris Naaron, Otter Vedal and the Masters of the Barracks [https://img.wattpad.com/830cea4b78259b231080f69a6f9050d5253b6b08/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4253344d64693249616b44764b673d3d2d313130353135353139352e313639346537343939343964333261303538343234303030303135322e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
Salagor got armored white courser as his ride together with his fellow commanders, Morris Naaron, Otter Vedal and the Masters of the Barracks. Agaal got Black rounsey for soldiers or lower ranked, he's ashamed since he gave deep pockets from his wrinkled hands nets of fishes and stones of gold, he doesn't deserve it.
The Higher ranked knights such as Lord Reyon got this Brown Palfrey a sign of power, speared guardsmen staring at him as he walked past the twenty-foot gate and at the portcullis high up and heavy. Followed by his men at the back carrying long swords on a column, columns of archers on horseback should've swept the road before the Army make way into the East road. Flags are high up blue, the face of fearlessness comes through the valley as they're about to meet the new man or lady to clean up the mess.
Agaal: What is this you gave me. he whispered
Throwing off the balance as he expected for it be a grandiose armored stallion.
Otter: A horse sir. You can take one of you want, just complain to the Lord Orcater and he will lend you. Would you?
The tough, long haired pretty man responded calmly beside him, he didn't even notice.
Agaal: No sir, I apologize. It just seems to not fit for what I did last time, you see, I gave you fish and golds and this is what you gave me?
Otter: Ranks, not golds. Gold does not give you what you always wanted until you did something worth sacrificing for. The horse that we are riding, the sword, the weapon, the armor, not all achievement came from your pocket, it is earned by your hard work as a fellow of the country.