Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24696651-20150414223503/@comment-24942837-20150418202623

Torolf looked around at the people around him. He was meeting with his army, to give a speech.

"Greetings, my fellow brothers and sisters in arms." He received a chorus of grunts and nods from his audience.

"I come to you here today, not for niceties or for pleasures." That also received another round of grunts and mutterings of approval.

"I come here to day, to lead you, into battle." The crowd began to grow a tad louder.

"We have sat idly by, while that worm Adalv the Hilted has conquered!" There were a couple yells in agreement.

"He has spread the seeds of destruction into his land!" They began to holler, "Aye!"

"He has corrupted our province for too long!"

"Aye!"

"He is nothing more than a filthy Daedra hiding inside a Nord's body!" Torolf raised a gloved fist.

"Aye!!"

"He must be purged from Nirn, and sent back to the gates of Oblivion, along with his cultists! We shall defeat his army! We shall have his head, placed above the Mournful Throne!"

"AYE!"

Torolf lowered his fist. "But we must attend to more important matters first. Without land, we cannot provide more soldiers. Without gold, we cannot properly feed, armor, and equip these soldiers into battle. Without ships, we cannot corner him like the bloody rat he is!"

"Aye!" By now the crowd had lowered it's voice more.

"We do have a large and powerful army at this point, however we must outnumber him 2 to 1, and beat him at his own game. There is no honor in war itself. There is only bloodshed, and that blood must be of the infidels Adalv controls."

He paused. "However, there is honor in each and every one of you. You fight as free men, not enlisted slaves like Adalv." He turned his head to the right, to see a group of Bretons, Elves, and other mer races. "In war, there is chaos and death. But in it's wake, there is peace, and a greater life afterwards. I would like to offer the latter to the Mer of our city, and all under our haven. In this war, all races, man and mer alike, from the age of sixteen to the age of your elders, will be treated with the respect they earn from rank and initiative." There was a roar of approval, soon revolving around this saying.

"The King in the West!"

Torolf grinned. "We shall win this war, and when we do, there will not be any form of slave alive in Skyrim. We are a free people, and should offer the same to those willing to die for our land!"

"The King in the West! The King in the West!"

"They may not be Nords in appearance, however in their hearts, their souls, and their spirits, they are the greatest Nords the world has seen since Ysgramor and his 500 men! Long live the Frostcloaks, and if we die... send us to Sovngarde with honor!"

"The King in the West! The King in the West! The King in the West!"

--

A few hours later, hundreds of Frostcloaks and ex-Stormcloaks left via the main gates. There were many more troops and weapons than Torolf had expected, having a total of 4 Catapults, 10 Battlemages, 202 Archers, 14 Light Cavalry, and 704 Berserkers, with 5 gold to spare. Many of the beggars, children raised in poverty, and Mer (including the Manmeri) went to aid the war effort, mainly because of the price they were promised-- equality, respect, and honor in all of Skyrim.

Torolf split his forces in two, allowing half of his soldiers to diverge to the west, whilst Torolf and his group expanded to the right. Under the command of the second army was his close general, Roderick Wintersbane, an overzealous but wise leader nonetheless.

(Pac, can you inform me of the first two stops each army will be making?)