EFDCT: Battle Thread Chronicles!

Tournament in Wynter: Day 1

Thousands of years ago, the snow-kissed lands of Wynter were faced with the warm hearts of the Wyntry people - those who inhabited the Kingdom of Wynter. They were a merry and conserved people, caring for each other and sustaining their beloved Kingship.

Of course, then, it is implied that there was once a King, a Queen, and a royal family. This family was the Pokol family, and they were just and fair... but steeped in greed.

One day a mysterious visitor from a foreign land requested an audience with the King, upon his request, the mysterious stranger met the King and knelt before him in his chambers. With a sly, silver tongue, the stranger humbly begged King Pokol to build him a bridge so that he might return to his homeland from which he was forlorn by a shipwreck. In exchange for such an arduous task, the stranger promised payments... payments of Mythril from his homeland.

Fascinated by the possibilities, the prosperity his kingdom could experience at the dawn of this revolutionary metal, the king fell thirsty. Anticipating great wealth, he granted the stranger his request and sent him home.

Then they waited.

Months had passed, and the king became impatient. "Was I a fool!? To be so tricked and slight handed!?" He thought.

But within days of his piqued impatience, the envoys of the Kingdom of DeVille arrived. The King looked out of his balcony with a bright grin, and Indeed they brought Mythril.

The Mythril that laced their boots, the Mythril that plated their armour, that adorned their jagged teeth, the Mythril that barreled their artillery, their swords and the tips of their arrows. As they marched across the great structure that bridged across the lands, it shook firmly. Vibrating the land and making it's way to the King's ears.

The King's grin quickly became a fearful frown and he ran inside immediately, summoning his advisors. They planned as best as they could, given the short notice of the attack. And despite the fact that the king had scattered their military force to anticipate the arrival of Mythril, their ranks were not solid.

A steady march of men approached the bridge on behalf of the Kingdom of Wynter, whatever soldiers they could round up. 1,100 men armed themselves with their steel spears, bows and swords as they charged towards the enemy of twice their numbers.

For days they held the line bringing in more and more soldiers to supply the barricade at the bridge, but they're numbers were dwindling quickly. Not only were they outnumbered, but they were ill-equipped.

"Damn them! Damn them and their cursed Mythril!" Shouted the king in the presence of his advisors, he looked pale, pathetic and of simply collapsing from fear. "What have I done to deserve this..." He sobbed, falling to the floor on his knees.

But from the door, a long creak was heard, and a hero arrived before them.

"Greetings," said the tall and full-bodied man, his slicked-back hair and exotic attire immediately earning their respect. "I am here to offer you my assistance. I shall wipe out the enemy forces, in return... I desire your most beautiful daughter's hand in Marriage."

Unopposed to one of his daughter's marrying to such a prestigious looking individual the King agreed. "How, pray tell, will you help us, good sir? After my greatest advisors have failed to do so!?"

"Simple," he said, "I Vladmir, and my group of elite men shall get the job done."

The King laughed at his plan blatantly, to which Vladmir simply responded "Just have your most beautiful daughter primed for me when I return. King Pokol."

And Indeed the King did take back his laugh as days carried on, the moment Vladmir's men stepped into the fray they began to push back the enemy forces. Within a week half of the enemy's elite forces had been wiped out, and Vladmir's men still stood, proudly wearing their scars of battle, panting wildly. Resting whenever they could and eating like giants.