----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
Troy
Titan of Novesium
An old man’s plan
Part II
-A forbidden pearl-
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
“Where are you going?” Qathor asked him, chocolate skin gleaming with oil. “The boys are heading to Vaderas place next.”
Eh, I scraped off enough chlamydia last time to open a stall in the market.
Troy paused and rubbed his sweaty nape with a hand. The wild blond hair dark at spots and clammy. “Was thinking to check on the old man.”
“What for? Seven slaves he brought this time. Seven! That’s like one for every… ten-fifteen men? Tyeus spear! Need to be served first in this venue else you’ll carry back more than you’ll deposit!”
Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.
“Just come pick me up for a couple of cups, I might not participate,” Troy murmured and walked away from the oiling tables.
He jumped out the door’s threshold and followed the gravel path towards Emerson’s house. Troy greeted young Telos on the way, one of his friends yelling drunkenly.
“Here’s the Titan of Novesium!”
“A champion of the arena!”
Hear, Hear!
Troy twirled nimbly on his feet and bowed at the praise, creating the letter O with his arms to showcase his well-defined triceps and then got up raising both arms over his head for a bit of biceps goodness.
“Wow!” A young gladiator gasped thoroughly impressed, though he gave Troy cinaedus vibes. “You got swollen even more Troy!”
“Look at ‘em abs!” yelled another. “What the fuck?”
“It’s not only dead lifting weights lads, eating boiled testes and an overflow of virility,” Troy retorted walking backwards confidently. “But also dedication. Ye got to work all muscles at all hours, of every day!”
He showed them thrusting his hips back and forth energetically.
“HAHA!”
“THAT’S RIGHT!”
Yeah, this is how life rolls.
Troy stopped at the open door of Emerson’s house and popped his head inside. Seeing light coming from the second room he strutted inside with his chest puffed out.
“It’s too early to retire for the day Ballard!” He bellowed and Ziba-Ra appeared on the door of the bedroom with a crying baby.
Ah, shite.
“Where’s the old coyote?” Troy asked the frustrated Lorian slave girl. Ziba hissed for him to be silent and shoved him out of the way trying to calm the boy down. “What’s wrong wit him?”
“You woke him up,” Ziba replied and ushered him outside. “Go, he’s not here.”
“Where is he?” Troy asked watching her place the baby on a table and then popping one of her engorged breasts out. Fuck, them things have gotten huge!
“Went to speak with Don-Iv,” she said feeding the boy to pacify him. “It’s been hours.”
“Paid him off already?” Troy asked his eyes on the baby working that nipple like an expert.
“Don’t think Don will let him go that easy,” Ziba murmured, a cute frown on her tanned face. Damn. “It’s not about making profit out of me. The Sopats pull coins out of their wells right?”
“Didn’t know that one,” Troy admitted. “Maybe I’ll look to sell him a slave after he gets bored with Hasti. I have excellent taste.”
“Pfft, no you don’t,” Ziba replied and tucked the baby inside a small soft towel. “You’ll fuck any hole that fits your cock in, mayhap a couple that don’t.”
She gave him the baby to hold.
“That’s not true… those need to be lubricated first…” Troy paused and stared at the cooing little bugger. “What am I supposed to do wit that?”
“Hold him while I change,” Ziba replied. “We need a slave to help around,” she continued walking inside the bedroom. Troy walked backwards to have a good look inside. “You think you can convince Ballard to buy one? He has coin.”
“Yeah, that’s not an easy one blondie,” he replied watching Ziba undress. Naossis fucking bosom! “Maybe you’ll suck his cock and suggest it in the act?” Troy added lamely.
“I tried it,” she admitted using a wet cloth to clean her chest and stomach. Troy felt his cock stir something fierce and then stared at the boy looking at him and grimaced. Eh. “Didn’t work,” Ziba added and tossed a sheer short tunic over her head.
“You know… I better head out,” Troy decided and gave her the baby, his arms shaking a bit. “I have to see Qathor about… a thing.”
Ziba laughed at his expression. “Nice to see I can still arouse you in my state.”
“Eh, there’s nothing wrong wit yer state,” Troy argued backing away.
She raised a trimmed blond brow. “I’ve taken on weight.”
Troy grinned showing a lot of teeth. “All in good places Zibara,” he assured her and bowed afore exiting the place.
----------------------------------------
Qathor almost run him over, the tall Issir smelling of sandalwood oil.
“Wow there! Scared ye proper eh?” Qathor said beaming. A touch of white on his face amidst all the black. Qathor had started shaving his head lately.
Troy recovered with a dexterous pirouette and then assumed an arrogant pose. “I tried to jump you mate. I wasn’t surprised!”
“Right,” Qathor said unsure. “Where’s Ballard?”
“Not here,” Troy replied quickly. “Where are you going?”
“Vaderas has a group of pleasure slaves brought in—”
Salvation!
Of sorts…
“Let’s check them out!” Troy cut him off eagerly not seeing something better at the near. He drew the line on using his phallus on animals, despite the latter being a thing lately.
“Ye weren’t as enthusiastic before,” Qathor noted suspiciously.
What are ye, me mother?
“I feel the juices flowing, blood pumping. Let’s get ‘em wenches!” Troy replied and jumped around energetically to get himself going. “Wait, you don’t really like girls right?”
“See this?” Qathor showed him all the oiled dangling parts lifting his chiton.
“Shade that thing!” Troy admonished him.
“That’s for Vaderas ha-ha!” Qathor guffawed. “I’ll keep him company.”
“I don’t want to hear about it!” Troy retorted closing his ears and marched away.
“The venue is the other way!” Qathor yelled at his back.
Fuck.
“You’re alright there Troy?” his friend asked worried after he turned around to march in the other direction. “Seem a bit rattled.”
“Shut up, I’m fine!” Troy barked trying to get the image of Ziba-Ra out of his head.
Just fuck that shit out yer system, he advised himself. Pound the living shit out of it. Burn it all to the fucking ground!
You’ll be fine.
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
“OIII!” The girl cried in his ear and snapped her mouth on his deltoid like an alligator, small teeth drawing blood.
Pain mixing with pleasure.
Aggh! It fucking works!
“YEAAHH!” Troy growled working his hips vigorously, naked flesh slapping on flesh, sweat pouring out of him in buckets and mixing with the girl’s, whose name he just couldn’t remember.
Ahm.
Fina.
Rila.
Myrtle?
His next words incoherent loud guttural grunts.
“FUUUCK!” The nameless plump slave gushed more eloquently, the wall banging and the floor slipping under his feet, the whole place rocking with similar sounds of pleasure, or immense pain. Not everyone had Troy’s technique.
He closed his eyes to get over the finish line, feeling all that tension building up. His heart pounding erratically in his chest.
BOOM.
BOOM-BOOM.
Screams, gasps and slashing sounds.
Heavy clattering.
Like taut leather drums beating and sticks pounding at polished wood. The rhythm primordial. Sand under his naked feet, the crowd roaring and the wounded Gargoyle getting up. A mountain of flesh. He couldn’t move his legs and he searched with his eyes at the faceless spectators at the stands. One face he recognized. Soft golden hair flowing down her graceful shoulders, eyes an azure with milk in it, alike a pearl.
Naah! He groaned, the slave girl screaming in his ear.
“YEEESS!”
Blowing his eardrums off.
Fuck.
“Goodness me!” She hoarsely cried out overcome with emotion as they collapsed on the wet floor. Someone had toppled a bottle of wine and made a mess of it.
All Novesium harlots! Troy cursed trying to shove the sweaty slobbering girl off of him. Qathor walked outside the venue’s office, his thick black cock leading a foot out dripping oil and cursing like he had stepped on it.
“I don’t believe this crap man!” He roared tipping his head back.
“What?” Troy growled the Cofol slave slurping at his deflating cock trying to keep it alive, her dirty small feet slapping his face as she turned around completely to better reach for it.
“The old dog is back,” Qathor griped and looked at them nigh befuddled. “What in Naossis’ tits is dis position?”
“What does he want here?”
“Apparently it’s on,” Qathor informed him and stared at the slave girl’s failing efforts. “Hey Lifa, want to work on this for a while? I need to get dressed and your boss passed out on me.”
That was the blasted name, Troy thought and tried to get up. “Shit,” he grunted.
“What?” Qathor asked moving closer so Lifa could accommodate him.
“I think I sat on a bottle?” Troy griped snaking away panicked from Qathor’s meaty tool.
What is this? The horse market?
“Yeah,” Qathor agreed knowingly. “You need to ease that shit in dude. Don’t take unnecessary risks.”
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
Emerson stared at them entering with black judging eyes.
“Yer late,” he rustled leaving it at that and pointed at a spot. “Stand there and open yer ears.”
Troy looked at the others present in the yard. Mostly the heads of each platoon of the Chiliad. The unit was divided in ten platoons of a hundred soldiers/gladiators each with an officer and two sub-leaders.
Emerson crossed his arms on his chest. “The Lords of the Peninsula will surrender Chubin Amin in Ani Ta-Ne in a weeks’ time,” he started in his baritone voice. “A force has been dispatched by Elur Sol with a galleon to pick him up and transport him to Que Qi-La.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Velox the Nord with a lot of Lorian in him raised his muscular arm. “Are they giving in then Ballard?” he asked curious.
“They are not,” Emerson replied. “We’ll use the time to gather our forces in Ani Ta-Ne, but afore we do that we need to make sure those coming off that ship and the ship itself are destroyed.”
“That will anger Lord Elur-Sol,” Qathor commented still covered in oil.
“Exactly,” Emerson said and pursed his mouth. “We’ll make sure word reaches the force coming down Que Ki-La Road and him. They’ll rush to attack Ani Ta-Ne and Thalion will be ready to meet them.”
“There are no walls in Ta-Ne,” Troy noticed and Emerson nodded, his eyes staying on him for a while. Troy shifted on his feet feeling guilty.
“There are not, but perhaps something could be arranged, either way Thalion will do his best to stop them.”
“Numbers?” Thalion asked.
“We don’t know for sure,” Emerson replied. “But Elur-Sol sent some three thousand out of Que Ki-La about three months back. A thousand of them are at Nasar and might not move from there at all, so count on facing the rest ‘Viper’.”
“I’ll have a very small advantage, but reinforcements will be coming down the road soon,” Thalion argued. “They could opt to turn towards Rohir and wait for them, even in defeat they could just retreat and come again.”
Emerson nodded and then stared at each one of the officers. “There will be no reinforcements,” he finally said. “But first we’ll have to finish this. Safely assume over two hundred soldiers will disembark. We’re leaving on the morrow lads. Expect a fast march back into Fu De-Gar. We’ll use ships and we’ll arrive at night in Ani Ta-Ne. We must not be seen as the city is defenseless.”
“Does Elur-Sol know about the extra soldiers?” Velox asked.
“News come out,” Emerson replied. “But everyone telling the story knows we’re in Fu De-Gar. Which is why we proposed Ani Ta-Ne for the meeting and why it’s happening so soon. It might not work, but I think it will.”
----------------------------------------
“You are more talkative usually,” Emerson told him later after everyone had dispersed.
Troy puffed out. “I’m pretty drained Ballard.”
“Worried?”
“About what? Eh, we’ll get them.”
Emerson smacked his lips. “If it’s bravery, then it’s commendable. I hope it is. The alternative is idiocy. In the next fight Elur will have the advantage Troy. Might turn into a proper battle.”
“I get this strange feeling yer not talking about us assisting Thalion,” Troy murmured.
“The ‘Old Viper’ will fight his own battle,” Emerson replied. “We will make sure the Lords don’t back away from it is all.”
“You think they’ll look for a compromise?”
“Yes. But we…” Emerson said his face darkening. “…we’ll show them a bigger win.”
Troy nodded unsure.
“Will it be? A bigger win?” He asked the older man.
“For a while,” Emerson replied gravely. “Enough to commit. After that, it’s anyone’s guess, but desperate people fight better in a scrap I’ve found.”
“Do they win Ballard?” Troy asked a bit worried now.
“Every man baptizes victory something different,” the ‘Pale Jackal’ had replied. “Now, if it’s encouragement you’re looking for son I once witnessed a boy best a plaguing assassin. So anything is possible.”
A week later
The port of Ani Ta-Ne
Charging Dolphin mooring spot
“That Chubin Amin?” Qathor asked him standing under a balcony’s shade. The cloak he wore like everyone else while out of thin cotton and long it didn’t conceal the fact he was armed to the teeth.
“Keep yer mouth shut,” Emerson grunted his eyes on the two groups of people and the large galleon. “How many came off the ramp?”
“Didn’t count them, I can see their arses over there,” Qathor retorted.
“Telos might not find the ship empty,” Emerson grimaced angry and stared at Troy next.
What’s this morning school?
“He’ll be fine,” Troy assured him.
“Thalion will rush them from the west, we’ll cut them off from the north,” Emerson repeated to the platoon leaders that dispersed after his words towards their squads. “But we have to make sure that ship doesn’t leave and tells a different story.”
“The truth?” Troy chanced with a smile that didn’t sit well with the brusque older warrior. “Aren’t knights supposed to be all for that?”
“Comes a point son, when ye have to get yer hands dirty first, ask for clemency later,” Emerson snapped. “Now hop on that deck with Qathor and see to help our lads.”
“How is me and him going to make a difference?” Qathor griped. “Yer giving us the shittiest jobs Ballard.”
“I’m sending the Titan of Novesium,” Emerson retorted looking at him. “That’s plenty.”
Troy grinned wolfishly.
“Fucking idiot,” Qathor cursed resigning to his fate.
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
Troy rushed across the port and reached the docks, groups of Cofol soldiers walking about around them. The port had been cleared of civilians, but it wasn’t a perfect arrangement and some of them were still present amidst the armed men.
The gladiator reached the spot where the Charging Dolphin had moored, made to run up one of the ramps but paused seeing the nearby soldiers rushing up another further away. The sound of fighting coming from the ship.
“Did he swim?” He asked a scowling Qathor and reached for his helm. A Cofol patrol approaching the ship to investigate spotting them and turning their way, the bulk of the soldiers about three hundred meters away in the port’s square.
“Eh,” Qathor grunted leaving it vague, the first Cofol staring at both of them perturbed. Troy made to slot the helm on his head, the man’s eyes watching him carefully, but paused.
“What are you guys doing here?” The leader asked.
“Look like slaves to me Bilot,” a soldier said standing on his left shoulder.
“Gladiators. Freemen,” Troy retorted with a grin and showed them the fancy helm. “Now,” he whispered to Qathor.
“Ugh?” Qathor gasped not catching his meaning.
“Don’t see an arena at the near,” Bilot commended. “Best you get away from here.”
“Now,” Troy repeated nervously under his breath that grin turning into a grimace. “We heard some commotion,” he told Bilot.
“Is why I’m telling you… wait, you lads are fully armed?” Bilot said furrowing his brows. “What is this—” Troy’s helm connecting with his forehead stopping him.
“NOW!” Troy yelled and rushed after the faltering officer. The helm bouncing off, the man’s head snapping back and his friends –four of them- looking perturbed, trying to figure out what happened to him.
Troy jumped, legs scissoring in the air, towards the stumbling Bilot that managed to stabilize himself, shook his head a hand on the welt on his forehead and then saw Troy flying a manic grin on his handsome face.
“To arms—!” Bilot barked, his voice cut short as he got kneed in the jaw, the lower part digging in the upper and severing his tongue. Troy walked on him opening his cloak and reaching for his swords.
Bilot hit the ground with his back before his men that jumped away to avoid him stunned at the development. Not everyone had remained idle though and the moment Troy walked over the thrashing mauled officer a soldier came at him. The sabre slashed at the air coming for his groin, but Troy parried it down with his right sword, run the blade of the left across the soldier’s neck.
Stepped away and used both blades to block the next one, kicked the soldier attempting it in the groin -with great success- doubling him over. He twisted away, right sword hacking at the doubled over soldier’s nape once, the left slashing away half of his friend’s face.
BANG! Went the defaced Cofol’s helm hitting the ground and rolling away. The fourth member of the patrol attacking him with furious swings and gnarling his teeth shocked at the explosion of violence. Troy parried once with his left, then with his right and then attacked in turn twice as fast as the Cofol soldier.
He went high and his blade was blocked, but his other sword opened the inside of the man’s thigh. The Cofol cried out and stumbled away, but Troy’s next flurry of attacks lost him an arm and then an ear, as he managed to dodge at the last moment. The next, the gladiator’s blade pushed his sabre aside and its twin sunk in his gut abruptly.
A heavy breathing, blood covered Troy stepped aside and turned around to see Qathor walking calmly towards the still thrashing officer Bilot and stabbing him through the throat once.
“The fuck! Didn’t ye hear me?” Troy blasted him and wiped the bloody sweat off of his brow.
“Not really, plus ye moved too fast and by the time I came to it,” Qathor explained. “I didn’t want to mess up yer fine rhythm.”
It was a lie, but a beautiful one and Troy grinned a bloody smile not minding it.
“Up the ship?” Qathor suggested the sound of fighting coming from all over them and spreading to the distant square.
“I just need to find my helm,” Troy agreed and looked about the messy scene.
Qathor grimaced and walked past him. “It went in the water. Just mind not to block wit yer head.”
----------------------------------------
A Cofol marine was running with his head cracked open, top part of the cranium missing, with pieces of his spilt bloody brains held in his hands protectively. Telos who had lost his narrow-bladed axe splitting said helm and skull, ducked under a spear thrust with a curse, his hob-nailed sandals slipping in the brines and his knee banging on the deck. A marine appeared on top of him, both men screaming at the top of their lungs. One with excitement as he had the upper hand and Telos panicked for the most part, certain he was going to have his previous opponent’s fate.
Troy who had just bitten a nose off messing up a head-butt, rushed to assist him. Long story short he’d remembered mid-move he lacked a helm and hit the brakes, turning the butt into a bite instead. Hah-hah. Back to the present, the gladiator leaped over a coiled meter-high hemp rope, saw Telos twisting away from a chop losing an ear and some change, realized he didn’t have time to reach him and hurled the forward-curved Kopis he held in his right hand.
The weapon buzzed twirling alike a small windmill’s blade, travelled five meters in the blink of an eye and smacked the marine right in the face.
With the pommel.
“BULL’S BALLS!” Troy cursed seeing his sword bouncing off of the Cofol’s cut face and the man stumbling back dazed, but relatively unharmed. Telos reached with his free hand, the other trying to put his severed ear back in its place and grabbed the marine’s right leg.
The Cofol lowered his head to glare at him, but his left eyeball just fell off and was left dangling from a thin strand of gory sinew. The shocked and more seriously injured marine than what Troy had initially thought, raised his arm to hack at the snarling Telos, but Troy reached him with another great leap, flipping the sword from left to right mid-air and chopped his arm off at the elbow joint.
The groaning desperately, badly injured Cofol toppled on his back and Troy landed next to his head, missing it but squashing that dangling eye unwittingly. His boot slipped in the mushy gore and he went gliding another two meters, putting an elbow down to not bang his head on the deck.
Troy stopped next to the middle mast or thereabouts, went to retrieve his sword, but caught out the corner of his right eye a gnarling soldier running his way hefting an even bigger axe than the one Telos had misplaced.
“AAAHHH!” The Cofol roared maniacally, feet thudding on the hardwood deck and hacked viciously, both hands on the shaft, intending to chop Troy’s arm off.
“NAH!” Troy cried out and pulled that arm back, the blade hitting the deck and splitting the wood four fingers deep. Troy stood up with an ugly snarl and went to cut him across the face, but the burly Cofol reached with one calloused hand, the other still on the stuck axe to dislodge it and grabbed his wrist fast as a viper.
“Whore’s spawn!” the heavy-set Cofol spat perceptively, his grip steely and tried to head-butt him. Troy jerked his head back almost breaking his own neck –the pain felt sharply on his lower back and the conned helm punched him on the sternum instead.
CLANK!
His plate taking the brunt of the blow, but rattling him bad enough to almost swallow his tongue. The Cofol shook his head and pulled back to gain more momentum to try again, but an ogling Troy turned his trapped wrist enough for the released sword to slap the Cofol’s forearm with the flat of the blade and bounce off of the hard-leather vambrace.
“Hah!” His opponent guffawed at the miss, then paused seeing the blade rotating once and Troy’s free hand snatching it from the air. “Shit!” he cursed and then got stabbed below the chin. He let go of the shaft and Troy’s wrist to jump away bleeding badly down his chest, but slipped on a pile of entrails. The burly Cofol swayed violently left, found the ships deck rails and went over them.
A worn out shaking Troy paused to suck air in as fast as he could, covered in sweat and gore.
“TROY!” Qathor bellowed fighting two soldiers by himself, as another patrol had rushed up the bow’s ramp to reinforce the ship’s defenders. “TYEUS’ MEATY SPEAR! Stop jerkin’ yourself around and lend helping hand! YE SHOWBOATING CUNT!”
Fuck you, ye stupid arse-lover! An exasperated heavy breathing Troy cursed inwardly, but run to help not to lose face.
> Elur-Sol’s ultimatum appeared to cower the Lords of the other three distant Sisters and an agreement was reached to surrender the defiant Chubin Amin to his men. A force was dispatched from the small port of Rihtur –the word meaning horse land in old Imperial- aboard the heavy galleon Charging Dolphin to arrest him in Ani Ta-Ne. The warship reached the large merchant city port, but the negotiations broke down.
>
> It was probably a ruse and the around three hundred strong heavy marines force was annihilated inside the port in front of the stunned bystanders by an even stronger force of gladiators. The warship got assaulted at the same time and taken over in an audacious broad daylight action.
>
> Two days later a bird arrived at Que Ki-La informing the celebrating Elur-Sol of the tragic events in Ani Ta-Ne. The Master of Treasure and War Leader was shocked at the news and asked the commander of the advancing army Nancin to stall until he had more information. Nancin paused near a settlement called Rohir –the name meaning horse masters in old Imperial- at the border of the stallion fields and less than a week from Ani Ta-Ne. Arik Sartak who was commanding the Rin An-Pur guard and the Jang-Ju recruits, but had moved auspiciously out of the capital, marched over Kin Ton-Inn River and was camped near the city of Lukela days from Que Ki-La, urged Elur-Sol to squash the insolent Lords immediately.
>
> Elur-Sol stalled not wanting to rush and sent a missive instead to commander Esugen camped near the rich trade city of Nasar on the road to Lai Zel-Ka to gauge the Sopats intentions. ‘This may be Leta-kin losing his mind, the man is in serious debt’ he told his staff, but Arik Sartak who was in communication with Prince Nout’s people, the convalescing Heir was monitoring the situation from afar, ordered Nancin to strike at Ani Ta-Ne and execute both Amin and Leta-kin the two main conspirators, along their families, whilst enslaving the majority of the population.
>
> Apparently Prince Nout had never believed the Sopat excuse knowing they were close with Chubin Amin –even through marriage- nor trusted the increase in recruitment of the last of couple of years, seeing as games weren’t held frequently and the cities weren’t contributing in the war effort.
>
> The Prince’s suspicions aside, Nancin moved to attack Ani Ta-Ne, over a livid Elur-Sol’s orders. The latter had no choice but order Esugen to ready for a move on Lai Zel-Ka, a much more well defended city than Ani Ta-ne, boasting many mercenaries, forts and even fortifications though not in Jelin’s standards. Esugen steadfastly refused to provoke the Sopats with his smaller force and asked for reinforcements, so Arik Sartak sent a force of Jang-Ju recruits from Lukela to help him.
>
> While Elur-Sol lost two or three weeks –with the exception of the fast moving Nancin- there was no real urgency to his close circle of advisors as the ‘incident’ was deemed a local issue even if it was very serious. No one could fathom that all three cities would rebel, or that a highly trained army that came to be known throughout the Peninsula as the ‘Unbroken Chiliad’, was already cutting through the ‘Dry Sea’ desert -from Hippo’s Back Mountains to Wind Cut Road passage, intending to reach Rihtur from the west and cut off Nancin’s supply route.
>
> At the same time blocking Elur-Sol from reinforcing him.
>
> ‘A famous win by one of the Sisters most beloved sons,’ Mista Savar had told his close circle of trusted gladiators, speaking of the force commanded by Thalion. ‘To entice the Lords of the Peninsula to fight and to make sure painful death awaits them if they lose and endless torture at the hands of the Khan.’
>
> Which was true for all of them.
>
>
>
> -
>
>
>
> Embellished by
>
> Lord Sirio Veturius
>
> Assembled from notes, oral memoirs, and the vulgar, unreliable but famed plays of the slave merchant turned writer Asmudius, who traveled with the Chiliad
>
> Circa 206 NC
>
> The Fall of Heroes
>
> Chapter XXIV
>
> (Sir Emerson Lennox, Ballard of Lesia, Mista Savar)
>
> Tales of Greenwhale Peninsula
>
> ‘Three Sisters Rebellion’
>
> --
>
> Volume IV
>
> Months 1-4
>
> (Across the Dead Sea)
>
> -500 kilometers & the bloody water wells of Rihtur-
>
> Prelude to the Battle of the Dates Plantation
>
> From late winter-early Spring of 193 to late summer-early Fall of 193 NC
>
>
>
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
read it at Royalroad : https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/46739/touch-o-luck-the-old-realms
& https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/47919/lure-o-war-the-old-realms
Scribblehub https://www.scribblehub.com/series/542002/touch-o-luck-the-old-realms/
& https://www.scribblehub.com/series/547709/the-old-realms/