RE WARCABINET (captains+guard)

[Nessa]

Tell the noble King we are coming.

They had burst into the forest around the camp that night and the Guards had taken them. If a few of them had been lost before they were dragged before the ranks of the Remnants then it was laughed about before they were thrown to the masses. A message had to be taken back and since then the castle had only been filled with voices and the clinks of armour.

Everything was filled with life, a macabre sort of life.

Tagged: Silva, Brutus, Hedyn, Nero, Any Forgers

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=background,http://i52.tinypic.com/2po3x43.jpg] He felt like laughing. Laughing till his sides ached and his throat began to bleed because this was it. They had waited, they had watched. The silence that had covered them all like a cloud was finally going to be lifted, it had been lifted. The moment the Guardians slipped past the Guards and came face to face with the ranks of armoured Guards and soldiers the castle protected was the moment that he'd realised what had to be done. The fact that it was the Guardians themselves that had warranted the attack was of no matter – in Azazel's mind it did not even matter that this was the most hopeless of charges into the ranks of the Guardians. It was a charge! It was an attack! They would strike fear into the hearts of every traitor and impure creature that the tree housed. They would tear down the defences, smash the ranks, destroy their hope! It was, everything aside, a spur of the moment thing. Not exactly well planned, nor well fortified. A brash attack that was more of a cry for attention than anything that was supposed to succeed. War was not won and fought in one battle, even Azazel knew this. How could he not? They whispered it to him, that this fail to plan ahead will kill them all. Everything he'd worked for would burn in the fire the Guardians brought with them, burn. Azazel shuddered, foot lifting and clenching. Everything in front of him was narrowed down to what he could see through the slits in his helmet but even that didn't stop the shadows flickering at the corners of his vision, encased in metal with him now. And they would be. For every pair of claws they took to the battle the Guardians would have it's equal, maybe even two for every one. He simply did not know. His Captains might, Hedyn may have heard more in the reports from the Turnfeathers recently than he had been listening to. But they did not know either. "My loyal owls...I want the tree." It was blunt, whispered, half to those he'd gathered around him since last night and half to the soldiers that were working away before him. He had brought them to the centre of the castle, high of a spike of rock that had enough perches in sticking out in the form of ledges and hammered in metal spikes for his Captains and Guard to rest on, his Queen beside him. "But I suppose that shall have to wait, no?" Plans had been discussed before but never in as much detail as they would need now. Always hypothetical, always. Now was not the time for talk or preparations that would take months. "This is not our final charge. We will not charge into battle with our claws outstretched as though this is out final chance. This war will be long, it will be terrible, and we shall rise from it victorious. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow. Tomorrow we strengthen our defences here, we celebrate the lives we have taken and tend to those who were injured. Today we lay the seeds of victory and fear – our victory, their fear. Today we let every owl know our strength, Guardian or loner, today...Today we stretch our wings, my owls." He paused, content for the moment to simply watch the movement below him. He felt...Free. Aloft on the currents of the air without the ability to fall. Far more potent than the feeling he got from fear. It was a feeling of expectation and anticipation working in unison. The feeling that told him that today something would happen. "The castle shall be defended, foremost...As many Guards as it takes, Nero, and the soldiers that are not ready to fight shall stay, with veterans and those we cannot afford to loose this early in battle...Brutus, Nero, I expect you to assign an owl each to stay in charge here - unless you wish to stay yourselves, of course." His head tilted as he continued, practically mocking the both of them despite the trust he held in them. "They will, no doubt, be more interested in protecting their own tree to come here but I won't take the chance that they slip past us or follow us once the battle is over. Cover as much of the forest as possible. I trust that your men know their duty, Nero." Maybe they ought to consider another stronghold...One that was could be defended and hidden with more ease. Outposts, smaller camps spread out along the territory to show their strength...Something to expand on when this was over. "Our main force shall be split. Two thirds to take the main assault – Hedyn, you shall fly with me for this, Nero also – maybe once we hit the beaks they will consider us arrogant enough to send all of our forces in at once. Before the beaks we will leave in small groups. Under cover and as quietly as possible before, ah, trying at least to hide in the beaks before the main assault. Surprise is a weapon we must use and use quickly. Brute force will not win us this, they have creatures larger then we are," Azazel paused. It was a plan that could fail quickly. If they could not hide then the small groups would be scattered. At least if the Guardians engaged the groups they saw there was a chance they could be hit from behind. A small chance. Battle narrowed the vision into what you could see around and below you, very rarely up. He chuckled, the sound sounding much more like a giggle as it went on. They never looked up. What did predators have to look up for? Other predators. "Brutus, Silva, you take the remaining third. Our reinforcements, our...back up plan. Get high, go quietly; send owls when needed or all at once – I do not care, but when they are sent, they will do damage or this will fail and we will not get out with more owls then they have." A rather brutal ultimatum, to be sure, one he was rather fond of. Yes, yes, fond of. Because, they whispered, because he was scared, scared. Scared of failing, scared of loosing the upper hand, scared of coming back with the dregs of their forces. They taunted him, teased him with the possibilities, of bloodied claws ripping into soft flesh that was his own and not the enemies, of his soldiers falling around his wings. Falling, falling so softly, so quietly. Barely a murmur in the vaults of time. No one would remember, no one would speak of this for years to come. The new High Tyto would be lost to history, they told him. He would tell them, Azazel would tell them that it was their King that would be lost to the vaults of history. Arctus would fall with his Rybs, Arctus will fall screaming, his loves, his owls, his friends would fall softly, softly. "Questions, plans, corrections. I need your voices, owls." words| 000 tag| tag notes| ooc

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[Fin]

When the Grass-owl heard of the Guardians who had been killed, he felt as if his gizzard had been shredded. That was it. His 'beloved' High Tyto would take this as a threat and retaliate. It had been bubbling beneath the surface for so long now, and finally the dormant volcano was erupting. He had hoped it wouldn't come in his lifetime, but perhaps it was better this way. His adopted son, Taurus, would be alone if Brutus wasn't there for him.

All captains had been called to the middle of the castle, which meant one thing - Azazel was preparing for war, and his men would have to follow him into the fire, to be burned or die in the inferno. Before he left, he straightened up, making sure his helmet was firmly on his head and battle-claws tight. He needed to look respectable, even if they were monsters. He reached the formation just before Azazel arrived, landing heavily onto one of the lower perches. Here, he did not have to sit under the intense stare of the High Tyto, or be close enough for him to lash out at him.

Brutus surveyed the room with very little emotion on his face, but beneath the cold, metal exterior of his helmet, the captain was troubled. It was obvious they would lose - why was Azazel sending them to their deaths? They had not recruited - apologies, forced - enough Tytos to join their ranks, let alone train them all. Young owls barely out of the nest, flying into an uncertain fight where they are sure to be killed. The speech began, and soon the large owl was still as a stone. It was really happening. Reality hit home fast, this was not just a meeting any more, this was where they would decide who would die first, and who would return home.

When Brutus was first mentioned, the Grass-owl instantly straightened up hearing his name. Assign a owl to stay behind to lead the defence? That would be easy enough, as there was enough leading-talent available. He hooted a response to the High-tyto. When the battle plans began to form, Brutus shifted uncomfortably. They were talking about owls, young owls, like they were fodder for the Guardians. He couldn't let it get to him - pokerface, Brutus, pokerface!

"We will await your needs - your army will be ready to strike." He answered, looking upwards to the High Tyto. He could handle waiting, but he wasn't sure if the group of owls he was assigned would. When the speech halted and Azazel asked the owls surrounding him to speak, Brutus looked around and decided he would be first.

"If I may speak, your Highness. The Guardians are unlikely to attack our headquarters - perhaps we should send a few more soldiers along with us to the fight? If we are to have a chance, we must go all out."

[◦myth ♫◦]

our time is running out

Hedyn remained silent, round, dark eyes studying every move of each of the owls around him. Brutus seemed nervous. The small, sane, insignificant part of Hedyn couldn't blame him, though for the most part of his insane, large and loud person, he narrowed those black orbs in disgust at the owl. He didn't deserve to be a Captain. He wasn't brutal or merciless enough. Not like Hedyn. He remembered the day he killed the young Raleigh's mother. A sweet day, to stop her poisoning the mind of a Pure One. Though not Alba himself, the Glaucops was still strong compared to those weak, measly little Guardian fools. Today, they would fall. The tree would fall. Innocence would fall and the Pure Ones would live and rule the land with hard, iron claws, not letting any non Tyto owl near them, destroying the lives of those who were not pure.

Hedyn would be flying with the king. "An honour," the owl bowed low to Azazel. He would love to sink his claws into a disgusting Guardian. He would love to get his claws into their dear king, but he knew, that privilege was for Azazel himself. Azazel would be the one to take the life of the king, and after that, the Guardians would descend into chaos with none to lead them. Hedyn had seen some of the owls when dropping off the turnfeathers, and ran into a bunch of ninny freefliers who were 'doing their duty to help the Guardians'. Ninnies. The lot of them. Some of the Guardians were tiny in size; easy to kill, though ones the size of their king would be harder to take care of. Hedyn was normal in size, not too big, not too small. He was average in most ways except for his insanity and his lisp. Younger owls found his lisp so very hilarious, and boy, how he had ripped their feathers out. Your voice was nothing. It was your claws that did the talking.

"Yesh, your majeshty... What do we do if we, eersh, find our turnfeathersh? Should we, sshh, hurt shem like we shall hurt she Guardiansh, or show mershy? If we do find shem, it will be shurprishing for she Guardiansh if shey were to shee ush leaving an owl unharmed. And osher Tyto owlsh... I know shey are wish she Guardiansh, but shey have been tainted? Should we take prishonersh if shey shomehow manage to, sshh, break shrough our ranksh?" his voice was pained. He had been slightly hurt by a Honey Buzzard from those ninny freefliers, though he refused to rest. Hedyn was not one to rest, if only for sleep and if only he truly needed it. His pain would not stop him from taking a life of a Guardian today.

[Icey]

Silva gazed at the High Tyto, pleased that they may finally have the tree. She was proud of Azazel, then again, she should be proud of her mate. He had power, and she would serve him as his queen. They would have the tree. Though there was something else she wanted besides power, she wanted to rip her claws through her weak sister. Yes, Silva thought to herself. Shellaina will learn that her pathetic Guardians are nothing to us. She would show no mercy for her, she would kill Shellaina by any means necessary, so long as it didn't threaten Azazel's plan.

Her gaze moved to Brutus. He appeared to become nervous when Azazel spoke of the battle plans. Silva became suspicious, not because she doubted his loyalty but because she had doubts about his strength. She pushed the thought aside and moved her attention back towards Azazel.

She listened intently to the High Tyto's plan, making sure not to miss any details. Her part of the plan was simple enough in her eyes, but at the same time she wondered if she would get a chance at all to kill Shellaina. She would have to resist, for the good of the plan. It would be easy to resist if it meant that Azazel would lose the tree. "We are at your command, you majesty." Silva replied. Power was more important to her than her sisters life. Azazel would allow her to be his queen when the Remnants ruled all of the owl kingdoms, wouldn't he?

Her doubt quickly went away. She loved the High Tyto and she was sure that he felt the same for her. Even if she had a lust for power, she would always remain loyal to him.

Hearing out both Brutus and Hedyns replies, she spoke her opinion. "I think that any Tyto's who would stoop so low as to join the Guardians should be punished. Though it is for you to decide your majesty." Looking at Azazel, she waited for his replies to these questions.