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  1. The pale mage made quick note of his adversary's enchantment, forcing him to consider a less savory way of silencing the bandit. Holding his breath, Brighton thrust his arm towards the gunman, expelling a small shiv from his sleeve. Time grew still as the silvery blade whistled through the battle-choked air. If Brighton had learned enough from his compatriots in the Gallian military, the knife would split the brigand's throat before he had a chance to discharge his weapon.
  2. Frightened, the pale physician turned his attention to the marksman. Hastily, Brighton raised his arms to summon a small barrier. If he manages to cast it in time, a magic field will appear and prevent any bullets from rending his flesh.
  3. Brighton, having emerged somewhere from the turmoil, rushed to Tozwad’s aid. The physician stretched his arms out to the lone warrior, causing arcane characters to blaze out from his palms. With a few sparse incantation words, something began to stir beneath Tozwad’s skin. Untold power began to surge throughout his tendons as a strange teal aura arose from his visage. It was as if he had been set alight by torch fire, yet the mystic energy caused him no pain. In fact, the spell seemed to revitalize Tozwad, readying him for a decisive strike against the bandits if diplomacy proved fruitless. ”I pray you don’t ask much of us in return for this!” Brighton chuckled as he continued to maintain the hex. He hoped that the skirmish would conclude soon, as he knew the spell would take its toll on his own vitality if he held it too long.
  4. "Certainly sounds a name for history texts." Brighton chuckled as he thought to the legacy that lay before him.
  5. “The odd warding spell could do.” Brighton pulled a small grimoire from his coat and flipped through its pages. The tome didn’t seem a physician’s instrument of choice, but the doctor had proven himself proficient in the use of mystic arts. ”We could perhaps build a fountain that spills silver-laced water to fend off pestilence and other ailments.”
  6. "Fleas and the like. There's no telling what's out there, so I'd suggest finding a way to ward off everything that could pose a threat to the health of our settlers." Despite his apprehension, Brighton found solace in knowing that Addison had orchestrated many settlements over the span of her service. He also knew that the heavens would fall long before Olivia let any harm come his way, so he reasoned against letting his dread get the better of him. "We had best make sure that our cabins are well insulated, lest we allow the cold to whittle our numbers as we sleep."
  7. Brighton attempted to keep pace with his lover as she tugged him across the grassland. “I ehh, think it would be wise of us to comb this place for disease.” The apothecary knew little when it came to the settlement of uncharted land. He figured the best he could do as governor was keep his citizens from falling to fever. “Our produce will mean little if claimed by pests, and I’m told all manner of illness carriers reside in these plains.” Seemingly, Brighton couldn’t just settle for the simple, idyllic beauty of his new dwelling. Questioning his position as governor, Brighton thought to the some eight hundred livelihoods that rested in the balance under his watch. His veins were sure to pulse from his palish skin if he were to worry any more than he already had.

    1. Kyoku



  9. The hawkish man turned to his superior, silently appraising their munitions. "The mortars arrived on schedule, and have proved serviceable. It is the gunpowder I fear for. I am told the kegs we have stocked were seized from the dratted mitts of smugglers and corsairs, and are quite volatile."
  10. “We spotted a series a pathways leading to a forest brush just behind the encampment. They could have turned tail in a night’s time if they were efficient about it.” Jericho’s brows creased. ”I could send men to scout the area if such is willed by yourself and the Master Knight.”
  11. Jericho stepped to the bandit, zeroing his gaze upon the brigand. Though he had yet to speak a word, the air grew thin between himself and the thief. The tactician was a difficult man to read, his lean face seldom host to his racing thoughts. ”You small, trifling thing.” Jericho leaned closer, inspecting the man’s battered face. Unease pulsed through the bandit’s skin, though he couldn’t quite tell why. The man before him didn’t bear any apparent arms, yet his words alone stung like shivs. ”You’re little more than a sputtering of noise and clamor, though your worth as a captive isn’t lost on me.” “Perhaps you think yourself and your lowly friends comparable to the might of nations. I assure you you’re not.” As Jericho’s speech grew fierce and barbed, his emerald eye began to flicker. A flare of intense light engulfed the bandit’s sight, though it was quick to dull. However, once the marauder’s vision dimmed, a shrill wind pulsed through his raggedy garb. The highwayman found himself smothered by night. Grim visions swirled about him as the bandit encampment burned in the distance. Torrents of gunfire flew from places unknown, rending the flesh of thieves in unceasing slaughter. The callous night alone was witness to their cries. The bandit was eventually roused from the apparition imparted upon him by Jericho. By the time his interrogation was over, Jericho had gleamed the encampment’s general layout, as well as what manner of firearms were stored within the base.
  12. The falcon-eyed man looked to Azelhart, fixing his boots to a precise alignment before addressing his fellow advisor. “I impelled Warin, Job, Vicar, and Lambin. They will return once they find something worthwhile. Should they not, my hard-working scouts will be here before sunrise.” As the pulsing sun steeped farther towards the horizon, the small shine of Jericho’s stone eye dulled. “I’ve seen night swallow men like hapless lambs; I assure you my scouts were elected well.” With that, the silvery-haired man turned his attention back to the construction of fortifications. Jericho found small pleasure in watching the outpost refine itself. Though a usual tenant of stuffy war halls and map rooms, Jericho could recognize the simple worth of sweat and vigor.
  13. Jericho quickly mobilized to chart an assault. He began with eying the leanest men in the outpost, swift to note that they acted as scouts given their nimble physiques. Bestowing the scouts with little more than a marked map, Jericho sent them off to probe the encampment. After marshaling his patrol, Jericho turned his attention to the camp and its poor fortifications. He spent the rest of his time in daylight’s fleeting embrace ordering sentry towers and barricades, hoping the dogged soldiers would make short work of their construction.
  14. “I’ll see to it as soon as I can once I’m supplied with men.” Neither thrilled nor repelled by the prospect of military action, the ends of Jericho’s face remained frigid as he replied. “Is it known if the pillagers are well armed?” The tactician’s mind set itself alight as he considered the angles from which he could engage a bandit encampment.
  15. Jericho fastened his cuffs before turning to Addison. From thin lips came airy words, the kind of speech fashioned to fill bureaucratic halls. “I do see... potential in this sordid place.” The snow-haired man looked out to the passage, reeling at the sight of ramshackle tents and inadequate fencing. “Should we take Azelhart’s proposals to heart, we could perchance make something of this outpost.” “If we provide sufficient lodging, we could set our sights on more... ambitious matters.” Jericho dug his heel into the soil beneath it, attempting to familiarize himself with his new surroundings. “Just how far will these roads stretch, Mr. Azelhart? I’m certain you grasp how much of an undertaking it would be.”
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