Aresan Clan pt 95

As soon as Strya was gone Anders left the study and told Silva to get word out immediately to the Closed Table that they would need to be at the Public House as soon as possible.

By the time the sun was just separating from the horizon, Anders was standing before the Closed Table while they all turned towards him waiting for him to speak. He looked at the mural on the wall—Hieronymous capturing and expelling Char-Sensa-doon after Char-Sensa-doon’s failed attempt to infect William Sirr in order to effect the fall of the Five cities. Just as Hieronymous stood as a bulwark against the encroachment of evil, he too imagined his role as leader as similar: to prevent his wicked enemies from infesting his lands.

Anders began speaking as soon as the last straggler hastily ran into the room and sat in his seat. “I have it under good intelligence that the Fourth Order will be marching summerward with a large army within days,” Anders said.

Indistinct voices all began speaking at once around the room, but one question came out loud and clear, “What are their intentions?”

“We think they are hostile,” Anders responded, nodding his head, “We don’t know their exact plans, but the size of the army being organized and the direction of their march indicate that it is more than simply an attempt to secure the disputed territories. They apparently expect military resistance and thus must be intending to march far enough summerward that they will meet it. They may be marching against the Aresan Clan, in which case we will have to provide military support, or they may in fact intend to march around their territory and head straight for Sanlosslee park. Either way, we need to immediately begin to organize our armies and be prepared to meet them. Unless there is any dissenting voice, I think we are in agreement that all the clans of the Omnia will need to contribute soldiers and weapons in full abundance. We will immediately contact the Chief Royal of the Aresan Clan and ask the same of him. And we should understand that our timescale is on the order of days. If the Fourth Order marches in two days, their armies can be at the Outer Bulwark in as little as eight days from now. We want to be able to march in five with an army sufficient enough to meet them. Is everyone seated here capable and willing to meet these demands?”

Anders saw several heads nodding around the table, but seeking something more definitive he said, “concur?” He heard all of them announce, “concur,” in clear voices that sounded throughout the room. “May it be recalled that there was unanimous concurrence to these requests,” Anders said and the men all again silently nodded.


Just as the sun was at its highest, a messenger was arriving at Plats Castle, the home of the Chief Royal of the Aresan Clan. It was located in the summerward-sunsetward corner of the massive Summer Park, the land of the Aresan Clan, a valley nearly as large as Sanlosslee park. Plats Castle was nestled in the shoulder of a prominent hill that overlooked most of the valley, surrounded by a wall of white, peppered granite that skirted the base of the hill.

The messenger passed by a bevy of armored guards as he entered this outer wall, slowing his tired horse to a trot as he ascended the hill towards the castle. He moved up the streets of a densely packed and crowded city that surrounded the castle, crammed with many large and expensive buildings. The castle itself, rising above the city, had its own high, windowless wall, which formed its exterior, made of a chalky limestone that glowed in the sunlight. A dry moat had been dug around the castle and itself lined with limestone, which created smooth walls on both sides of the moat. A drawbridge, currently lowered, permitted passage for the messenger, who urged the horse forward

A servant was there just inside the wall to take the horse and the messenger hastily dismounted. The messenger was a young man, quick on his feet and lean, with wiry, frantic energy. When he entered the throne room, he was recognized and a personal guard ran off to fetch the Chief Royal from his boudoir.

The messenger knelt before the throne and waited. His knees were growing sore on the hard floor, by the time he heard the sound of Chief Royal Christo Rabeus Sirr entering the room from behind the throne. Looking up, he saw a massively obese man, who swayed as he walked with two beautiful young concubines helping him along. After he tumbled into his chair, the women remained at his side and held onto his hands, gently stroking and massaging them.

“A message from the Close Table of the Omnia for Chief Royal of the Aresan Clan,” the messenger began.

The Chief Royal urged on impatiently, “Yes, yes, get on with it,” in a voice like the strident trumpeting of a crane.

“We request the full assistance of your armies for defense against the Fourth Order,” the messenger said.

<-- Go to Part 94         Go to Part 96 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

As soon as Strya was gone Anders left the study and told Silva to get word out immediately to the Closed Table that they would need to be at the Public House as soon as possible.

By the time the sun was just separating from the horizon, Anders was standing before the Closed Table while they all turned towards him waiting for him to speak. He looked at the mural on the wall—Hieronymous capturing and expelling Char-Sensa-doon after Char-Sensa-doon’s failed attempt to infect William Sirr in order to effect the fall of the Five cities. Just as Hieronymous stood as a bulwark against the encroachment of evil, he too imagined his role as leader as similar: to prevent his wicked enemies from infesting his lands.

Anders began speaking as soon as the last straggler hastily ran into the room and sat in his seat. “I have it under good intelligence that the Fourth Order will be marching summerward with a large army within days,” Anders said.

Indistinct voices all began speaking at once around the room, but one question came out loud and clear, “What are their intentions?”

“We think they are hostile,” Anders responded, nodding his head, “We don’t know their exact plans, but the size of the army being organized and the direction of their march indicate that it is more than simply an attempt to secure the disputed territories. They apparently expect military resistance and thus must be intending to march far enough summerward that they will meet it. They may be marching against the Aresan Clan, in which case we will have to provide military support, or they may in fact intend to march around their territory and head straight for Sanlosslee park. Either way, we need to immediately begin to organize our armies and be prepared to meet them. Unless there is any dissenting voice, I think we are in agreement that all the clans of the Omnia will need to contribute soldiers and weapons in full abundance. We will immediately contact the Chief Royal of the Aresan Clan and ask the same of him. And we should understand that our timescale is on the order of days. If the Fourth Order marches in two days, their armies can be at the Outer Bulwark in as little as eight days from now. We want to be able to march in five with an army sufficient enough to meet them. Is everyone seated here capable and willing to meet these demands?”

Anders saw several heads nodding around the table, but seeking something more definitive he said, “concur?” He heard all of them announce, “concur,” in clear voices that sounded throughout the room. “May it be recalled that there was unanimous concurrence to these requests,” Anders said and the men all again silently nodded.


Just as the sun was at its highest, a messenger was arriving at Plats Castle, the home of the Chief Royal of the Aresan Clan. It was located in the summerward-sunsetward corner of the massive Summer Park, the land of the Aresan Clan, a valley nearly as large as Sanlosslee park. Plats Castle was nestled in the shoulder of a prominent hill that overlooked most of the valley, surrounded by a wall of white, peppered granite that skirted the base of the hill.

The messenger passed by a bevy of armored guards as he entered this outer wall, slowing his tired horse to a trot as he ascended the hill towards the castle. He moved up the streets of a densely packed and crowded city that surrounded the castle, crammed with many large and expensive buildings. The castle itself, rising above the city, had its own high, windowless wall, which formed its exterior, made of a chalky limestone that glowed in the sunlight. A dry moat had been dug around the castle and itself lined with limestone, which created smooth walls on both sides of the moat. A drawbridge, currently lowered, permitted passage for the messenger, who urged the horse forward

A servant was there just inside the wall to take the horse and the messenger hastily dismounted. The messenger was a young man, quick on his feet and lean, with wiry, frantic energy. When he entered the throne room, he was recognized and a personal guard ran off to fetch the Chief Royal from his boudoir.

The messenger knelt before the throne and waited. His knees were growing sore on the hard floor, by the time he heard the sound of Chief Royal Christo Rabeus Sirr entering the room from behind the throne. Looking up, he saw a massively obese man, who swayed as he walked with two beautiful young concubines helping him along. After he tumbled into his chair, the women remained at his side and held onto his hands, gently stroking and massaging them.

“A message from the Close Table of the Omnia for Chief Royal of the Aresan Clan,” the messenger began.

The Chief Royal urged on impatiently, “Yes, yes, get on with it,” in a voice like the strident trumpeting of a crane.

“We request the full assistance of your armies for defense against the Fourth Order,” the messenger said.

<-- Go to Part 94         Go to Part 96 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 95