Trench

Prologue

The room was dark, underground, and the large table in the middle left little room. One dying torch was the only light. It threw the shadowed silhouettes of three people on the walls, all hunched around the table. Each face, though shadowed, was unmistakably contorted with tension as the eyes stared down to the map on the table. Two of the faces belonged to older men. One with sparse white hair and his brow pulled to the middle, sweat was there despite the damp air.

The other older man had only the lightest fuzz around his head and was leaner than the last. His lip was curled and he looked mildly amused. The other face was female, adult but younger than the other two. Her face was stone and her dark auburn hair framed her cold stare with a thick mane. The only thing all three had in common was their dress. All wore a tight leather vest that was strapped and belted at each shoulder, across the diaphragm, and again at the waist. Each had badges and glistening medals to show their merits. Chain mail sleeves over rough wool belled out at the elbow. Another flap of leather covered the waist and thighs, back and front, but split up the leg. Breeches were tucked into knee high plated boots. Each also had a sword.

The conversation had been tense, the silence in the room now just a calming breath. It was broken quickly when the man with more hair spoke, "If we can't get supplies in from the plains we won't be able to feed the men we have. We should worry about securing rations before we rally more men we can't feed.", he blustered and pound his fist down on the table to prove his frustration.

"We need more men to secure roads, General Tooliss." the balding man rebuked. "If we can get the fealty of Lyric, we could have both"

"Conlynn, if you think that Lyric will bend a knee to Our Cause, then your a bigger fool than I. They are closest to Avarice and the scholars and artist aren't so blind to war that they can't judge distance. Not to mention the Royal Force trains in the plains." Tooliss continued to bluster and spit.

"So your arguing that we need the support and long ships of the Sisters. How likely are they to bend the knee? They have been battling each other for centuries they won't be bothered to trade with us now." Conlynn argued. "We could end their feud by taking the shrine!" Tooliss was practically foaming.

Although he was the oldest and most experienced of the three, he felt his views went unheeded. The whole conversation Conlynn had mocked his idea of forcing the Sisters into submission therefore, securing farmable land and splitting the island in half. Conlynn thought he had the key and the door was Lyric. Lyric would mean troops, funds, and land but, they were the closest major town to the enemies capital of Avarice.

However it was the woman idea that was the most preposterous. So much younger than the either of the men, she was the daughter of a hero and had earned her own merits. None the less, her idea was still more fairy tale than war tactic. "I'm still unmoved, we need a beacon they can come to on their own. If we enslave the twins they could turn, Lyric is bought and sold daily, the people need to believe in us." she spoke with her arms crossed and eyes still fiercely focused on the map on the table.

"Since they won't rally for the bastard, Ita?" Tooliss hissed. The woman continued unaffected. "If they come to us willingly they will be more dedicated and loyal. They die at a command, proudly."

"You say the orphan can do this, we don't even know she is alive Ita." Conlynn was rational but to Ita, ultimately wrong. "I know she's alive and I willing to bet where she is. If you don't believe me fine, give me permission to find her." Ita pleaded and Tooliss scoffed and reeled from the table.

"How long?" asked Conlynn and Tooliss swiftly spun back to the table and had to brace himself on the table. "Your not considering this?"

"The troops will be fine without Ita for say, two weeks or so. It would give us time to send a message to Lyric and the Sisters as well." Conlynn was could  understand why Ita had to do this. "So we we throw a handful of stones and see what hits then." Tooliss snapped.

"It's not anything as proud as I would like, but we have no choice. We're losing." Conlynn corrected the older man quickly. They were all silent for a moment. They searched each other for any hint in their plans. Finally Tooliss gave a heavy sigh and conceded, "FINE, Two weeks, no more. I'll need you here for the Sisters." Ita wasn't about to stay around long enough for them to change their minds. She bowed to her counterparts quickly and said goodbye, "Brothers."

Ita turned from the men and began walking out of the poorly lit passage and stone corridors with arched doorways. Tooliss could only shake his head, her plan was folly. Even if she could find her what could such a young girl do to save them? "You don't agree?" Conlynn asked in his perpetually neutral tone.

"How could it, this is a war not a bedtime story." Tooliss said. "Well," said Conlynn, "..prepare you messages. We have our own work to do. I will leave for Lyric in the morning."

Conlynn began to follow Ita down the corridor but was stopped short by a venomous comment from Toolliss, "Running to your rich chums so soon. Maybe Lyric isn't the only thing bought and here." Conlynn only smirked, Tooliss had suggested treason, but Conlynn knew what the old man really feared. Retirement. Forced to go to his holdings and live out his days far from any fighting.

"My loyalty is forever with this uprising, and Our Cause." Conlynn swore with his hand on his heart, but the smirk was still on his face. He then continued down the corridor and into obscurity, only Tooliss was left in the room.

Left with a dying torch, a tattered map, and his worries...