Medievil War...small island...BIG turmoil

On a small island off the coast of the people are plunged into slavery under unjust ruler.  He casts his rule over the people in swift recourse if denied in any manner.  A young princess escaped his grip once, but not for long.  An all out search was made and the would-be king demands his queen.  Alayna Mora, last nobility on the island is his ultimate target.

Anthony Mandrovia’s horde stretched their evil grasp over the land casting a dark shadow upon the once peaceful island.  They spread out quickly and found the young princess.  She had been running from them for weeks.  Captured once again by these invaders she desperately tried to fight them off, but to no avail.  Alayna pushed herself to exhaustion trying to escape.

Alayna’s hands shook and her legs quivered. It was all she could do to stand on her own two feet. As the men dragged her back to the castle and threw her before King Anthony Mandrovia’s feet.  She fell to the ground, she looked up at the king, and again he offered his hand to marry her only to be refused.

He thought it best to throw her in the deepest dungeon of the castle, but unlike other castles this kingdom had no need for dungeons.  There was little need and most who did wrong were punished according to the law broken right away.  None stayed in the dungeon over night.

The King was quite aggravated by the news of no dungeon after the men tried to find it.  King Anthony sent Alayna to the deepest depths of the castle to allow matters to dwell on her thoughts.  Marry the king and be free or stay locked up.  The guards had placed her in a wine cellar storage room.  A small room only fit for storage and with no sun light entering in.

Alayna began to lose hope.  This was her darkest hour in many ways.  She could not hear the native birds sing or feel the sun on her flesh.  Her kingdom fell apart and none stood up to stop it.  The people of the island tried valiantly, but failed.

The room was very cold even in the daytime and even worse at night.  Alayna shivered and after hours of being locked up a guard finally threw her some old blankets and some scraps of food.  She wrapped herself up in the worst smelling cloth ever, but it was better than freezing.

Alayna’s dress was worn and tattered.  As weeks went by she survived on the scraps of food and bundled up as much as possible in the blankets she wore.  To anyone who did not know would think this beautiful young woman was a weary old hag forgotten by all.

The young princess’ features covered in dirt and grime.  Her eyes saddened by the fate she suffered.  Her youthful body was weakened by depression and lack of hope.  Alayna was slowly fading away.

King Anthony Mandrovia called for her to his throne room one day and laughed as he saw her.  Alayna looked at the king on her father’s throne.  He had grown fate with gluttony upon the wealth that was her kingdom.  Anger set into her heart once again sparking a fire unlike any other.

Again he asked for her hand in marriage and unlike before where she gracefully refused.  She screamed at him, “Take your sorry excuse for a proposal and go to hell with the lot of you!”  The king leaped from his throne, smacked Alayna across the face knocking her to the floor, and ordered his men to beat the rebel out of her.

No matter how much the king tried the fire he sparked would not go out.  She had a reason to go on.  The executioners tied Alayna up to a pole and ripped her clothes off her back.  Each lashing was sharp and searing pain.  Tears fell from her eyes as the pain surged thru her body.  The lashings hurt, but not as much as seeing her beloved kingdom go to waste as it was.  She was able to get a good look at her people forced to work for these savages.

Her people grew skinny while the Viking lot grew fat.  Hope was lost in the eyes of her kinsman as 2 years have past since the Vikings came.  The last six months the king did not summon Alayna to him.  Before he stopped summoning her, Alayna spoke from her hatred for the would-be king and he grew tired of it.

The guards and a few rats were the only living creatures she saw.  She had the tattered blankets pulled over her head and this hid her face in shadows.  Her curvy featured covered in layers of fabric.  She ate the scraps given and when the guard left she tried to move around to keep up her strength.  The scars from the lashings now evident upon her back created a long term reminder of these hard days.  Alayna curled up in the corner of her “prison”. 

The young princess sang herself to sleep with a song trapped in her mind.  She closed her eyes in hopes the dawn would bring a new promise for her people.  Alayna cared little for herself.  Every message she sent with those doves.  They were all pleas for assistance to help her people.

Alayna’s mind drifted into thoughts of a dove finding someone who would send an army and get these savages out of her lands, but the thought someone worse than these men would come did not cross her mind.  As she went off to sleep her mouth curved into a slight smile thinking of the fat lard on her father’s throne being lashed for what he has done. 

The night outside grew still.  The sea itself seemed calmer than most nights.  The Vikings were fattened from their feast and all slept without remorse or care of what they have done.  They ravaged the people and the land itself.  The sun had set and the full moon’s light now danced upon the waters.  The air buzzed of a new energy of hope.

The people of the island gossiped in the taverns of an army coming or so a trader from had said.  A king from received a heart-ripping message that moved him so deeply.  The king of assumed the message was from a peasant and not from the princess.  She wrote her messages out as if she was a peasant begging for help.  To her the people came first.

The king of was going to send his best men and proclaimed who took the head of the leader of these savages would be endowed with the land itself.  Word had been spread the royal family of the island were long since dead.  The whole family was slain according to rumors.  All had thought even Alayna had fallen to the murderous ways of the Viking clan. 

Alayna had been forgotten to the world outside that miserable castle dwelling.

King, he was King of an island all his own, yet still these foolish Irish tried to put up their pathetic rebellions, still they tried to escape his unrelenting grasp. Just a few days ago, a few townspeople had killed the sentries ordered to patrol the lands of Anthony, and now, King Anthony was showing these peasants what happened if they tried to undermine his authority.

He stood tall, more than six feet, though he was noted for not being as large as his fellow Vikings. Now he was alone, at the edge of the village, the searing heat of the flames that now torched it singed his hair, but he didn’t move. Anthony loved the heat of the fire, because he knew that same heat was burning others alive at that very moment, the fire was his weapon, his joy.

The scream of a young woman could be heard and Anthony’s head rotated slightly so he could watch as she ran, the edge of her dress starting to alight as she fled. Her movements of course were slowed by the bulge of her stomach, not easy to run while carrying a child in your womb. Barking names out, he sealed the woman’s fate, “Olaf! Eric! Bring her to me!”

Two of the finest Vikings in Anthony’s forces (a.k.a. two smelly, giant, hairy barbarians) rushed the pregnant woman; she didn’t make it far from her home before they tackled her to the ground, not even taking the slightest care to bring her to their King, unharmed. Dragging her, they finally threw her face down at his feet, and Anthony looked down at the disheveled woman.

“Trying to escape? Did you really think I would allow that? Perhaps you have less sense than even I credited you for. I would have recommended you die in the fires, these two are sure to make your last minutes far worse than the mere elements ever could.” He grinned, his wicked teeth flashing as screams and pleas spilled from her mouth.

Olaf and Eric of course had just realized it was their lucky day, and Anthony, being the twisted bastard that he was, watched, watched as they had her way with her, and he smiled as they finally killed her, but not before they cut the babe from its womb, slaying the nearly-matured child before its mother’s eyes, she wanted to die in that moment, but they refused her that, instead they prolonged her suffering, but finally her life forced was waning and they knew it had to be done, she was killed, her body left for the carrion.

Anthony just stood silently…he would have joined in the manslaughter and torture…but he had to remain dignified, he was a King after all, a King without a Queen…his mind returned to the beautiful young woman, locked away in his Palace and another grin came to his face, one resonating far greater evil than any other one before it. He shouted out to his men one final order, “I have some business to attend to at the castle, have as much fun as you want boys, this island is ours!”

Alayna noticed fire light coming in from under the doorway.  Curiosity crept up on her as she leaned down to peer out.  None could be seen.  It was a slight relief to her.

It would only be a short time until Anthony would come for her again.  The stories of him from afar were quite true.  He was a ruthless man who got what he wanted by force if needed. 

Traders once came to the island often.  The island was well known for beautiful tapestries and woven blankets.  Many come for them.  Alayna wondered if her people were alright.  She hoped they were and she was the only one who suffered.

The dim light from under the doorway made Alayna think of what it was like outside before these invaders.  Her heart so pure on thoughts of hope and it was almost child like.  The silence was broken by screams of women.

Alayna peered under the door as two young Viking men dragged a young girl into wine cellar.  Her stomach ached at the thought of what was to come to that girl.  She closed her eyes tightly and begged the Gods above for help.  That poor girl she thought.  What made it worse was she knew the girl.  Esther was a milk maid who tended the cow herds.

The clothes ripping off of Esther echoed in Alayna’s ears.  The girl’s screams caused a deep seeded pain in Alayna’s heart.  Frozen by fear she couldn’t even feel herself breathing.  Just as quickly as it all started it ended.   

Alayna’s eyes welled up in tears and she urged herself to look under the doorway.  Esther was huddled up in the corner as the two men left.  A sound of a loud horn could be heard.  Esther’s screams drowned it out before, but now that she is still it could be heard.  It was what saved the girl.  Alayna couldn’t figure out what it meant.

She called for Esther and the young girl looked around in bewilderment.  Alayna should’ve been dead she thought. Esther quickly ran to the doorway and tried to figure out how to unlock it, but to no avail.  The chains on the door were too much for the young girl. 

Esther was pleased to hear Alayna’s voice.  They were friends and Esther tried so hard to free her.  Alayna begged her friend to go.  Begged her to run and get away.  Esther nodded in regret and left.  Just before Esther ran Alayna gave her the charm from her neck.  A royal seal of the house of Mora.

Esther snuck out of the castle which was easy because she and Alayna always snuck around as children within the castle walls.  She made her way out in tears.  Esther felt like she had failed Alayna and their friendship.  Before Esther could even get too far a Viking grabbed her up by the locks of her hair. 

The sheer force of the savage had brought Esther to the ground.  Just when Esther thought she was free the end came swiftly.  The Viking swiftly beheaded the girl and laughed in his triumph.  The one hope for Alayna to be known as alive just died at the hands of a Viking who cared none for life. 

Esthers body lyed out for the animals to ravage, but within the palm of her hand the charm bloodied by brutality.  To anyone who saw this would say it was Alayna for it was her royal seal in the hand's of a headless dead girl.  Except for Anthony Mandrovia, he knew all too well where Alayna was hidden.  She was his prize for him alone he thought. 

Alayna meanwhile had her spirits up lifted thinking her friend still lived, unknowing to Esther’s fate.  Alayna thought of the mighty horn blowing and the Vikings heeding its’ call.  Alayna took a deep breath and sank back into her corner.  Silent as a mouse she waited for some sign of hope.

On a little island off the coast of Ireland, word has spread about the trading quality of its natives. This had attained the attention of an extremely wealthy and even more deadly woman named Sonja Blackmoon. She had been traveling for hours to this island. There were also rumors about some kind of treasures that were on the little island which was more reason for her to pay it a visit.

As the ship was beginning to dock, Sonja noticed a town in the distance and felt that since she had never been there before she would need to explore it, and know where everything was. Blackmoon was very mysterious, constantly keeping herself in the shadows hiding her identity. Before leaving the ship with her two animals, she pulled down the hood from her cloak a little bit after masking her face with a black fabric.

Her black horse and black wolf emerged from their cages on the massive vessel and awaited their master’s orders. Climbing onto the steed she named Wildfire, the group darted towards the town as Blackmoon silently ordered. The three of them came to a halt at a cliff that overlooked the seemingly peaceful town.

With but a glance, Sonja ordered her pet wolf, Shadow, to go on patrol and explore the area for anything useful or any danger. Shortly afterwards, Blackmoon spots a collection of heavily armored beings, all resembling knights in her eyes. She assumed this to be true but was surprised and slightly heartbroken when she saw a merciless slaughter take place. She threw away her pity for the defenseless villagers for she had seen this same scene many times.

Continuing to examine the scene, Sonja spotted a man with incredibly thick armor dismounting a horse and beheading two barbarians. The mysterious woman was confused, not knowing who to trust or even if she could trust anyone in this foreign land. She viewed these trivial matters to be pathetic and ignored them, continuing to observe. The horse began to act up, rearing up and making a scene. With a stern voice, Blackmoon commanded her loyal horse to calm itself and stop acting up, questioning if her stealthy position was given up to the others. She sat and waited as she planned her next move.