The Fall of Sweden

The Fall of Sweden was a short RP session held in a private Skype chat to send off Sweden when Season 2 of Mineciv ended. The event saw the destruction of Sweden, flight of the Swedish people to Bavaria, and the death of Maxirion V'harr, who would later be resurrected.

This roleplay happened in the wake of the disappearance of Queen Elisabeth V'harr and the evacuation of the Swedish people after warning came of a massive army of organized undead marching under the cover of some form of malevolent entity straight for Sweden. Defenses were prepared and magical flames were erected to keep the beings of winter back, including one massive Great Flame at the center of Sweden that acted as the main defensive shield of the nation.

The participants of this roleplay were MaxirionV, Drakeius, Cpt\_Silvrose, and Darman. The log is below so that it may be documented and recorded for reasons of backstory.

Log acquired despite issues with Skype, thanks to the help of RoseShirayuki.

### The Fall of Sweden

   [8/23/2016 7:45:49 PM] MaxirionV: "A man may die, nations may rise and fall, but an idea lives on."

-John F. Kennedy

[8/23/2016 7:54:05 PM] MaxirionV: [Sweden, the Far North]

[One month after the DraCo Incident]

It was safe to say that Sweden was in a state of civil unrest as the great city hung in an eerie silence. After the King had declared martial law and seen to it that the civilians of Sweden had been evacuated to a refugee camp, it had become a military state, all men and women still present were soldiers, hunters, or militia.

King V'harr was having a hard time keeping things together, as every night now he heard those whispers. Worried of what Draco's Benefactors were supposed to be. Heard the whisperings of the eldritch monolith. He saw again the fate of the Innkeeper, Rio. He again relived the Civil War. All the past traumas had come back to haunt him.

That morning he had woken in a cold, lonely sweat in his bed, and was instantly reminded of the missing state of his wife. He had lost her once, so long ago, and now he had lost her again. As he got up and got dressed - with none of his usual morning gusto - he wondered for perhaps the hundredth time if she had even been real. No living person vanishes like that. And remains so... Untouched, by time. But she had.

He looked over at the journal upon his desk and shook his head. He had been up late, writing his thoughts on the matter. As of late it felt like he was writing his last will and testament, like at any moment it might all come crashing down.

Walking out onto his balcony, he looked up at the Great Flame and was satisfied to see it still burning. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"We made it another night." He muttered. Any second he expected to see the flame end. For now though...

He turned for the door and let out a heavy breath as he walked through his quarters and out, down through the once bustling and active halls of Drakarna Hall, sighing at the silence. The Healing Church had given him a diagnosis of the beginning signs of depression, something they suggested various narcotics and potions to put a stopper in it. He had refused them all.

He left the Hall and looked down the roads, before eventually shaking his head and walking in a random direction.

He should go find the Holy Blade, or Drake Nightbane. Whichever he found first.

[8/23/2016 7:54:16 PM] MaxirionV: (Alrighty. -sits back and rubs sore fingers.-)

[8/23/2016 7:57:29 PM] David Clark: He'd see Drake, he wore a cloak to hide his face. The Undeath had made him horrible to look at. He stood Infront of a soldier, the soldier looked just like Drake, same face. Cocky and self sure. The soldier had a bag of explosives in his back. Drake  had his hand on his shoulder. Max would overhear some words. "Your mother would be proud of you Martinus. If only she lived to see Novogrod." "Of course Father. You never did tell me how she died." "She died giving birth to you, before any of this, when I was a Dacian soldier.." Hed turn to face the King. "Hail."

[8/23/2016 7:57:38 PM] David Clark: ((Fook you Silv I'm faster.))

[8/23/2016 7:58:17 PM] Lizzy: (Brotherly competition ftw )

[8/23/2016 8:05:46 PM] Silvrose: At the top of the Hunter's Workshop, Paul Baumgartner, The Holy Blade of Sweden, worked with dread, it was his duty to set the counter measures and trap across Sweden along with his Hunters, it was his duty to prepare for the worst: Sweden's fall. He got up from his desk, and plans, and walked to the railing. He would rally his Hunters, steel them against the worst. "My good hunters," he said. "Any day now we shall face the worst threat in Swedish history. Any day now, our lives shall become changed forever, and many will not survive. We are the Church Hunters of Sweden, her undead slaying warriors, our duty is simple: the White Walkers must not take Sweden, and must not smother the Flame, so we shall place a most dangerous concoction across the town, Greek Fire. Not even water can quench it. Each hunter may also use our special tools to imbue it's properties upon our blades, we shall be ready to use them, and the barrels, for if Sweden comes close to falling... We shall burn, with the Walkers beside us."

[8/23/2016 8:06:14 PM] Silvrose: (That felt pretty shit, wish I was less exhausted from school)

[8/23/2016 8:08:44 PM] MaxirionV: (THAT was shit by your standards? Motherfucker.)

[8/23/2016 8:11:14 PM] Zachary Horovitz: (would hop in if givent he opportunity)

[8/23/2016 8:11:44 PM] MaxirionV: He stood by out of respect for their conversation, and when he was noticed, stepped forward and gave a nod of greeting.

"Hail, old friend. I trust the both of you are well?" He was vaguely aware that Drake had a son, it was mentioned somewhere in their old conversations. However, he had not met the young man until now. He looked up at the great flame and the billowing flag above it, and a sense of encroaching dread set in, as it did every day.

Would today be the day? He worried that every time he looked up at that flame.

[8/23/2016 8:11:49 PM] MaxirionV: (Feel free, Praetor.)

[8/23/2016 8:16:21 PM] David Clark: "I am undead.. But well, I must be off again tho. A meeting to try to find a cure of sorts." With that he was gone. Martinus saluted his King. "My king!"

[8/23/2016 8:16:41 PM] MaxirionV: (Gonna wait for Zach's post now.)

[8/23/2016 8:20:26 PM] Zachary Horovitz: The Praetor paced across the upper levels of the monastery. Six His orders agents had attempted to learn the location of and sabotage the majority of the white walkers forces. None had returned in days and with half his forces gone and presumed dead the Praetor feared the Orders ability to counter any threat even one not posed by the white walkers. Perhaps it was foolhardy to try but the six at had gone were all volunteers and what kind of man would the Praetor be if he left his men to fend for themselves. Gathering the Remaining six of his men the Praetor informed them of their comrades plight and requested volunteers to join him in bringing their brethren back. All remaining agents rose to volunteer and each was granted the opportunity to search till the last for their fellows.  As they rode out of Sweden's capitol away from the flames the praetor wondered to himself if this would be the last time he ever saw it in all its glory. ( I have no idea if this is shit or not please feel free to disregard it)

[8/23/2016 8:21:58 PM] MaxirionV: (It's quite fine, really. Gives the state of where the Praetor is.)

[8/23/2016 8:22:26 PM] Zachary Horovitz: (no where near as good as you guy's)

[8/23/2016 8:23:26 PM] MaxirionV: He gave a nod, watching Drake go before his gaze turned to Martinus and he gave a small nod.

"At ease, young man. So you are the son of my oldest friend, are you?" He questioned, giving a small chuckle. "Nice to finally meet you, he's never shut up about you during some of our talks." A small joke, to get the point of being at ease across.

[8/23/2016 8:24:15 PM] MaxirionV: (I'm gonna guess you haven't really RPed in a manner like this before, Zach?)

[8/23/2016 8:24:39 PM] MaxirionV: (It's quite alright if you're not used to it. That's pretty damned solid for such a case.)

[8/23/2016 8:24:46 PM] Zachary Horovitz: (bingo)

[8/23/2016 8:25:04 PM] David Clark: He smiled. "Just arrived here in Sweden my king. I've been living under King Valdrinar before he fell deathly ill." He smiled and held out his hand. "I'm a Sapper sir, aswell as trained with an axe."

[8/23/2016 8:28:14 PM | Edited 8:29:55 PM] MaxirionV: He shook his hand firmly.

"Ah, Vald. Tis sad to hear that he has fallen to such a fate. I suppose it is better to die warm in your bed, surrounded by your loved ones, than it would be to fall in a bloody, chaotic battle." He shook his head, his frown deepening. However, he quickly set that frown aside with a false smile, turning to look up at the Great Flame. "I lament to say that your tenure in our beautiful city may be a short one if we cannot hold the line when the inevitable attack occurs. I hope you are prepared for the fight of your life, boy. I am stationing you on port guard, with the ships. As the son of my friend, you'll understand if I wish to keep you closest to the point of safety as I can." He looked at him in a humbly apologetic way.

[8/23/2016 8:30:30 PM] David Clark: "Of course sir, just know I am more than capable. I once hunted Giants with my father for awhile before I returned to Dacia." He smiled and then popped his neck. "Besides I've been ordered to set explosive traps along Sweden if we fall.\*

[8/23/2016 8:31:31 PM] MaxirionV: "I understand this. Place these traps and then take the position I have assigned to you. I will not be responsible for the son of my eldest friend dying because of my orders of position." He responded evenly.

[8/23/2016 8:32:49 PM] David Clark: He nodded and then ran off. Max would notice the Greatsword and Aze on his back as he ran.

[8/23/2016 8:33:27 PM] MaxirionV: Classic weapons. He gave a nod and turned for the Hunter's Workshop. It was time to pay the Holy Blade a visit.

(Segwaying into Silv's post.)

[8/23/2016 8:34:30 PM] Silvrose: His speech concluded, a hunter approached the Holy Blade, offering two papers: one a status report, the other a letter with a simple "Vati" on the front of the envelope. Tucking the letter from his daughter into his coat, he read the status report: the White Walkers were half a days march away! Turning around, grabbing his holy Zweihander with his new arm prosthetic, he charged into Drakarna proper and yelled "My king! We have half a day until they arrive!"

[8/23/2016 8:36:45 PM] MaxirionV: He was just coming up onto the landing when he heard the shout, and quickened his pace in sudden realization. He came up on the Holy Blade, eyes wide with worry.

"Half a day?!" That bode terribly. That meant they had less time to prepare. "Muster the Hunters and call all remaining militia to the walls. As long as the flames stay lit the white walkers will be at a disadvantage, with no winds of winter to speed them along."

[8/23/2016 8:39:49 PM | Edited 8:40:29 PM] Silvrose: "As you say my king. Just as well, the last of my Greek Fire traps are ready. As we planned, they shall come from the ruins of the old castle, my hunters shall ignite the traps there as the Walkers arrive, and all those along the roads and walls."

[8/23/2016 8:41:37 PM] MaxirionV: "That only buys us time, Paul." He shook his head. "What we will be facing is an army, with a handful of Hunters, a platoon of soldiers, and a small crowd of barely-trained militia." His gaze got beyond serious. "If it looks as though we will lose Sweden, you are hereby under orders to evacuate all personnel - everyone - to the ships. Is that understood?"

[8/23/2016 8:43:28 PM] David Clark: There was a stomping of a staff and Drake was there. He peered around. "I caught wind of terrible news my lord. The white walkers are nearly upon us... My Wildlings were slaughtered."

[8/23/2016 8:43:52 PM] Silvrose: "Yes my king. That was my plan, I will take the ships to the camp, and from there Bavaria. We would be safe there." He turned and left, he had a battle to prepare for, and frightened men to rally.

[8/23/2016 8:55:28 PM] MaxirionV: (brb)

[8/23/2016 8:55:41 PM] Zachary Horovitz: 12 miles away from Sweden the Praetor was beginning to worry. His six agents had split into two teams each equipped with the best holy armor the monks of the monastery could provide. Having snuck in past the walkers outer patrols the first team had found what remained of the six volunteers. Three were dead, their bodies strung up over smoldering kitchen fires, of the three remaining only one appeared to be in a stable medical condition. The other two lay unmoving in the cage the walkers had constructed to house these impromptu prisoners.  Thankfully the cage itself was left mostly unguarded but the outer perimeter what remained of the walkers haphazard camp was littered with roving walkers each fully alert and equipped with full battle gear.  To extract the survivors would be dangerous but the Praetor had a plan.  Thinking back to the campaigns of Nubia the Praetor realized what must be done. Issuing orders to his troops to extract their comrades and rejoin the defense of Sweden immediately the praetor stealthily maneuvered himself to the other side of the encampment. Their he sat waiting for the weakest looking walker of the area.  As the weakest walker moved passed the bush where the Praetor hide an arrow appeared just below his trachea. Quickly extricating himself from his cover the Praetor visibly ran from the encampment drawing the attention of all but a handful of the walkers. As he ran the praetor gave silent thanks that none of his men had tried to take his place on this assignment, he couldn't loose another soldier the same way he had lost his team in Nubia, not again.

[8/23/2016 9:03:56 PM] MaxirionV: [An hour later]

An hour passed. A worried, anxious hour as V'harr stood in the market square, furrowing his brow. He closed his eyes and sealed an envelope he had just slipped a folded sheet of paper into. It was simply addressed:

To Elisabeth.

He looked up at the cold winter sky, and then at the warm orange glow of the Great Flame, and swallowed a lump in his throat. So it truly would be today. He was not much of a fighter, and damned if he did not despise conflict and death. So for a battle to be coming to Sweden's gates troubled him dearly.

Little did he know what was coming.

[8/23/2016 9:07:29 PM | Edited 9:08:15 PM] Silvrose: Lord Baumgartner stared at the treasured Burial Blade, a warscythe of a friend of his, the slayer of many Undead monstrosities. he hoped old friends and mentors would give him strength from the beyond. he took the scythe from it's resting place, he may yet need it for the coming bloodshed.

[8/23/2016 9:10:48 PM] David Clark: Drake walked into his house, the knocking began again, but only he truly heard it. He broke the floor boards and pulled out his old blade, rusted and worn.. Novogorad will be shown its dying breath tonight. As its King and Prince would fight side by side.

[8/23/2016 9:23:50 PM] Zachary Horovitz: As the V'harr stood in the market 8 agents of the order crept back to their sanctuary, in the mind of the most senior agent, Daniel,08, Williams an after action report weighed heavily upon his mind. What was he to say? What was he to do for that matter, the Praetor had not returned to the group after he had made his distraction, and no one had seen any trace of him upon the agents return.  The V'harr would not be pleased to hear that of the initial 13 agents of the order only 5 remained eligible for active duty, that 3 were dead, and that the founder of the order the Praetor himself was now seemingly gone.  As he put agents 02 and 05 into the barracks for medical treatment he realized what his report would say. (the following is the document Williams wrote up for the V'harr) After action report. Of the initial six agents dispatched to slow walker movement through the Swedish countryside only agents 02 05 and 07 survived. 02 and 05 have since been placed into the intensive care unit of the barracks.  07 Is ready to return to active duty immediately. Unfortunately two of the seven agents dispatched to retrieve the missing agents are gone one dead in the breakout one MIA. Agent 09 Died when he mistakenly left a downed walker alive. The creature sprung up from behind him and ripped his head clean from his shoulders seemingly only enraged by his injuries.  The Knight Praetor Darman is MIA after creating a distraction that enabled myself Agent 11 Agent 09 and Agent 12 to break our comrades out of their cage and get them to our fellow agents who spirited us away on horseback.  The Knight Praetor is extremely capable when it comes to fighting but do not hold out hope that he will return alive as he enraged almost all of the sixty or so walkers that were at the encampment.                    Agent 08 Daniel Williams

[8/23/2016 9:26:44 PM] MaxirionV: This only deepened his frown. Maxirion gave a nod, ordering the agent to arm in full combat gear and join the defense force on the walls. He looked upon the sword on his hip, and set the document on the bench, slipping the letter into his coat pocket.

The Blade of Mercy, a blade that had defended Sweden loyally, given to him as a gift by Paul Baumgartner with the intention of striking him down should he lose himself to nether corruption. Now, it would strike down the enemies of Sweden with a grim finality that would see this day, a red day, either a victory or a loss.

And he was ready.

[8/23/2016 9:26:57 PM] MaxirionV: (I am double posting so please do not type. This is gonna be the big moment.)

[8/23/2016 9:40:04 PM] MaxirionV: At that very moment, time seemed to stand still as all was silent. The winter mist encroaching upon the land was held far back by the magic of the Great Flame and the smaller ones lit along the walls and their towers. It seemed as though the eyes of a million white walkers gazed piercingly at the Swedes from the mist as it swept over the treetops, obscuring all from view.

It was not long until the wall of winter mist ceased in its approach, a large field between the mist and the city that covered the advance of the white walkers. This very mist had been reported by Yugoslavia, then Canada, before their falls. And now, it came for Sweden. The wrath of the north, the great horde of white walkers.

There was the briefest of silences, and then a cold breeze blew through Sweden like the whispering of some cruel spirit from the North's highest mountains. As though a shivering blight of winter magic, it swept along the walls, blasting the soldiers with a surge of cold that made most shiver in their armor and their furs. Then, the greatest fear that V'harr held came true.

As he watched, the small braziers upon the walls flickered from burning flames to flickering embers. As the closest militia struggle to relight the flames, they refuse, and soon smoldered, trailing last puffs of smoke into the air.

Next, to the horror and chagrin of the defenders, the greater pyres on the towers flickered and angled as though being blown by the dieties of the mountains, and then they died down as well. And no amount of oil and matches, despite the efforts of the defenders, could relight them. It was as though once they flickered out, the winter mists deigned to keep them extinguished.

That was it for the walls, the frontward defensive line was now nothing but manpower and traps. The mist continued to approach, the hunting howls of white walkers now audible over the howling winter winds. The clattering of bones, the banging of weapons on shields, and the archaic raspy voices speaking in a language long since forgotten to the world.

V'harr sprinted up to the wall to stand beside the Holy Blade, worry set firmly in his heart as he stared out at the approaching doom.

"We've not enough men to defend against this." He realized. "Let us hope those traps will do us some good." A solemn vestige of hope that was soon dashed.

The winter magic swept against across Sweden, rising high. It could not be seen, but it could be felt, and eventually V'harr's gaze shot up sharply to the Great Flame in realization.

"No..."

The eternal flame of Sweden was blasted again and again with winter magic, and frost could be seen forming upon the cold stone of the great structure. With a final puff, as though the very hand of winter itself pinched it between finger and thumb...

The Great Flame of Sweden, the last line of defense holding the winds of winter back, was extinguished.

[8/23/2016 9:40:19 PM] MaxirionV: (There we are. Posts up, back to our regularly scheduled RP!)

[8/23/2016 9:51:53 PM] Silvrose: The Holy Blade shot into action, Dashing for the Harbor, his traps reduced to hit or miss, often ending with a hunter igniting themselves to start the Greek FIres. he called out to the soldiers, hunters and Militiamen, " GET TO THE HARBOR!" reaching for both his Holy Moonlight Sword, better known as Galantine, and the Burial Blade, he would hold the line until the last man made it to the harbor. For as long as he still stood, none of the vile wights would pass. as he cut his way through to the harbor, he felt ever so slowly his strength fade, the unnatural cold could overwhelm any man, and Paul Baumgartner was no exception.

[8/23/2016 9:52:31 PM] Silvrose: ( oh god I can't wait for the feels)

[8/23/2016 9:55:33 PM] MaxirionV: (Need David and Zach to post up.)

[8/23/2016 10:02:17 PM] MaxirionV: (Or not.)

[8/23/2016 10:04:18 PM] David Clark: Drake was no where when the battle began, but Martinus was there he charged in slowly greatsword and axe in hand he began to chop down the undead infront of him. He would jump back and then chucked a dynamite into a horde. "Do not falter! Primo Victoria!"

[8/23/2016 10:08:55 PM] MaxirionV: The Militia and soldiers needed time to retreat. He would have to concede a loss, as hard as it broke his heart. Making a split-second decision, he loosed his blade from the sheath.

"Fall back to the harbor wall and hold them there! We have to buy the ships time to load up and escape!" The Blade of Mercy was swung as the first white walker leapt upon the wall before him, only to be decapitated with a solid swing. He spun, and kicked the undead wight off the wall, turning and leaping off, rolling when he hit the hard market cobblestone below.

He was the last to retreat, and as such his blade took the undeaths of many a wight. His shield was a tower of defense for the soldiers behind him, absorbing axes, swords, and arrows. His blade was a beacon of vengeance for the home they were losing.

V'harr would not see Sweden lost without a fight.

[8/23/2016 10:10:58 PM] Zachary Horovitz: (I'm leaving the what happened to the praetor open ended for now)

[8/23/2016 10:11:19 PM] MaxirionV: (Fair enough. So it's me, Dave, and Silv from here.)

[8/23/2016 10:21:07 PM] Silvrose: Baumgartner fought as he never did before, not only would he ensure the escape of his men, and that another Litany of Fury will never happen again, but he would see his daughter again, and at long last be her father in full. for every wight he slew, another twenty  rose in its place. he couldn't last forever, and most of the men had made it to the harbor by now, looking for his king, Baumgartner  shouted, " my King, Sir Drake, and Martinus, hurry to the ships! there is no more time!"

[8/23/2016 10:23:47 PM] David Clark: There was an explosion from Drake's house in Sweden, Marty would look "Father!" But in that moment, he appeared next to them in his full Archdeacon regalia. "Get to the boats!" His staff would turn a bright blue and a small ball would shoot out. From the crystalline ball the Wights would have crystals rain upon them. They mostly ignored the undead Drake. But the ones who tried to touch him he would slice their heads clean through with his small sword to his side. His Sword of Novogorad.

[8/23/2016 10:28:04 PM | Edited 10:30:21 PM] MaxirionV: How many had he slain? Maxirion did not know. But what he did know was that there was no time to spare. The mist was already over the wall, crossing the market square like a predatory winter diety. There was no time left.

"Martinus! Drake! Get aboard and defend the ships! That is an order!" He bellowed, turning to Baumgartner. "Fall back, NOW!"

[8/23/2016 10:39:58 PM] Silvrose: Paul Baumgartner had obeyed his king. he stood at the gate of the docks, slaughtering his way through, he immediately had any ship with the room sailing for the refugee camp, they needed ensure the safety of the civilians in the camp and wounded soldiers on the boat.

[8/23/2016 10:44:29 PM] David Clark: MArtinus nodded and would take one last charge of explosives. and set it to stop the Wights from getting to the boat once they all pasted.. Drake looked to his king "Maxirion.. What of you? You are our king, our leader!"

[8/23/2016 10:49:39 PM] MaxirionV: Never in his life had V'harr felt so hopeless, as he looked past the hordes of white walkers at the approaching mist... He knew that they would not manage to push off before it and the hordes of walkers struck. It was a split-second decision... And he made it.

His reached up and removed the heavy crown that sat atop his head, turning and tossing it to Baumgartner, along with the Blade of Mercy.

"I... Will relight the Great Flame. Buy you all some time to escape. Silvrose, lead the people to your home of Bavaria... Drake, go with him and please, ensure that he is safe while ruling. It is a treacherous thing, being a leader in the public eye." He knew that refusal would come, and he turned to Paul, removing the letter to Elisabeth from his coat pocket, taking his hand and pressing it into his grip.

"If by some miracle fate allows you to see her, give this to my wife and let her know what transpired here. As your friend, man to man and not king to subject, I ask this of you."

[8/23/2016 10:54:01 PM] Silvrose: "...I will, Max. I swear to you." Baumgartner said, fighting back tears.

[8/23/2016 10:59:35 PM] David Clark: Drake peered into Max's eyes. He sighed. "I will make sure we escape, that's all I can promise for now old friend.. But Martinus will stay with Baumgartner." He then took out his sword, and handed it to Max. "For Novogorod."

[8/23/2016 11:04:52 PM] MaxirionV: He looked the sword over, and gave a nod, turning to the white walkers before them. His free hand clenched into a fist as he counted briefly, the white walkers between him and the Great Flame.

Two hundred and fifty, give or take a few more or less for rounding to the nearest tenth. He stepped forward.

"It has been an honor, my brethren. Be safe, and make this count." He swallowed the lump of apprehension in his throat.

His chestplate was constricting, it made it hard to breathe and hampered his movement. He slashed the straps holding the iron plate on, letting it clatter to the ground.

His eyepatch was blinding, as if a phantom sight from a nonexistent eye was now blessed to him in the twilight of his life. He pulled it off and tossed it to the snow at his feet.

He raised the blade on high as the chill crept into his very bones. But even moreso, a fire inside was ignited, in the King in the North. Somewhere in the winds of the battle, Fenrir, the great wolf and father of the wolves of war, gave a long howl.

The howl was joined by a loud roar from Maxirion V'harr himself.

"PRIMO VICTORIA!!!" He roared, charging forward at the white walkers.

[8/23/2016 11:05:09 PM] MaxirionV: (Climax. Now the feels begin to mix with epicness.)

[8/23/2016 11:09:37 PM] Silvrose: the last o the ships began to set sail, Baumgartner stood at the helm of the Litany of Fury, the king had given his life, Drake was gone, and young Martinus stood at his side. he would lead the people to Bavaria, and take up the crown of his homeland. he would also have to send scouts to recover the dead, if the kings gambit succeeds.

[8/23/2016 11:09:50 PM] Silvrose: (dave is going to bed BTW)

[8/23/2016 11:10:10 PM] MaxirionV: (So the rest is ours?)

[8/23/2016 11:10:18 PM | Edited 11:10:55 PM] Silvrose: aye.))

[8/23/2016 11:17:16 PM] MaxirionV: White walker, after white walker fell. It was as Silvrose had observed, that twenty replaced each one as he struck them down. He was not interested in thinning their numbers, his goal was a higher one.

An arrow slammed into his shoulder, a spear through his leg. He swore, falling to a knee. The white walkers surrounded him, but he cared not. He grabbed the spear at the head, shattering the wooden rod and forcing it out of his leg.

He forced himself to his feet, burning with primal fury and adrenaline. As the white walkers enclosed upon him, he gave a roar and spun, slashing in a wide arc around him and forcing the walkers back. It gave him the opening he needed. He bullrushed the pillar.

He was just upon the pillar when two spears and a sword exploded out his chest. Right where his lungs and heart were.

It should have been the end for V'harr right there, but he was a stubborn man. Even as blood leaked from his mouth and he coughed up a fair amount of the red liquid, he jerked as the weapons were ripped out and stabbed through him again, and again. Thrice the weapons pierced his chest but he was not about to fall just now.

It was as though a miracle from Odin that the sword dropped from his fingers and he gripped the stone of the pillar, pulling himself up.

Inch by inch, he made the climb, even as the white walkers roared below, hurling weapons and firing arrows after him. A few hit him, burying themselves in his legs and back, but he barely referenced them. Surely it was by the strength of his will that he kept climbing. Even as the winter wind formulated into little particles of ice that slashed and whipped at him, billowing his coat and spraying the side of the pillar with red.

As weapons struck him, and the winter winds whipped at him, V'harr climbed. He knew he had no time left, the white walkers would reach the boats and slaughter his compatriots, or he himself would succumbs to his wounds, and die before reaching the top.

He refused to let that happen.

[8/23/2016 11:17:29 PM] MaxirionV: (Moment of truth inbound. -cracks knuckles-)

[8/23/2016 11:18:30 PM] Silvrose: (I'll go ahead and type me resolution post, but wiat to post I.))

[8/23/2016 11:18:50 PM] MaxirionV: (So I'm waiting for your post before I do mine, or should I just go again?)

[8/23/2016 11:19:05 PM] Silvrose: (go again.)

[8/23/2016 11:40:01 PM | Edited 11:57:40 PM] MaxirionV: The wind was whipping and slicing at him. The white walkers below were bellowing up at him, and he could feel the life leaving his body with the blood dripping to the cold brick below him. His breathing was hard, his vision hazy as he approached the kiln of the Great Flame.

"... Let this save them. Tis my last request." He whispered, a silent prayer to whatever dieties were listening. "I have given them everything up until this point. My home, my love, the sweat and blood of my brow... And now my life. I hope for it to not be for nothing."

With that, he gripped the pot that hung about the Great Flame, a consecrated fuel source the Healing Church and the Hunters had put up. The same substance used in Greek Fire, to ensure that it would never go out. He hoped the winter magic could not extinguish this.

He pulled it downward, and tipped it over, dropping the volatile liquid upon the kiln, a series of great magma stones taken straight from the nether itself and blessed against the winter magics, and the undead hordes alike.

What followed was deafening, a massive explosion from the top of the Great Flame that sent shockwaves over the ships themselves. Fire erupted from the kiln of the Great Flame, shooting outward across the sky in a burning display. Wherever the flames flew, white walkers howled in agony and fell as the winter magic sustaining them was blown away by the blessed flame.

It had worked.

The force of the shockwave was enough to send V'harr flying back, his own body lit alight by the Great Flame, but the pain did not get to him. He barely even registered the flames.

Time was slow as he flew back, suspended by his own slowed reality in air, and travelling downwards.

It had worked... And they were safe. That was a cause he gladly surrendered his life to. Now, here he was at the end of his life, and while he had a world of regrets... He felt strangely content.

*My Dearest Elisabeth,*

*I write to you a distraught man, for you have disappeared for the second time in our marriage. I still see your face, radiant and beautiful, whenever my eyes close. And I must admit, that it pains me to wonder if it will be another twenty years before we see one another again.*

He turned his gaze slowly from the Great Flame, over his own burning body, to the port. He swept his eyes slowly over the burning white walkers, over the untouched ships and the Swedish flags still flying high.

*If by some miracle you receive this letter, please know that I hold no ill will toward you, only sorrow that a risk has risen that we may never see one another again. For when Sweden is besieged, I fear my fall in battle will leave the rest without a leader. And I wish not for such a fate to befall them.*

Paul Baumgartner, his Holy Blade and his close confidant. Surely, he would make a grand leader to lead the people in this troubled time. He had absolute faith in him... And in Drakeius Nightbane, his oldest friend, the only one who dared show an outcast like him compassion all those years ago, when he had first arrived in Novgorad.

They would be fine, under the leadership of those two.

*But since I write this as a man suspecting he is about to die, then these are to be my last documented statements. Sooner rather than later, the great avenues will open again and free men will walk through them to construct a better society. Long live Sweden. Long live the people. And long live the free peoples of all the world. These are my last words, and I am certain that my sacrifice will not be in vain, I am certain that, at the very least, it will be a moral lesson that will drive our people onward, that will give them hope in these darkest of times.*

His eyes found the sunrise beyond the ships, and a small smile made its way to his bloody, beaten face as he traveled downward. A warmth spread throughout his freezing body, and he felt his eyelids growing heavy.

*I only hope, that I shall meet my fate as a brave man... My name is Maxirion V'harr, bastard of house Valerius, Lord Commissar of Novgorad, and King in the North.*

The sunset rose on a red day, but a new day. A fresh start for the people that were once again refugees, plagued by loss. He could only hope, that Baumgartner would protect them all. Each of their faces, and names ran through his mind as he one by one gave a silent prayer for their safety.

*Endless affection to you, the woman beautiful as the moon and my salvation in those dark times of solitude.*

His eyelids slid shut, and with a last breath, King Maxirion V'harr knew no more. He passed before he even hit the ground.

*Yours, Forever and Always. Maxirion V'harr.*

[8/23/2016 11:41:58 PM] Silvrose: Baumgartner could feel it, the king had won. at great cost, he had saved them, and the Winds of Winter receded. they were safe... it would take three weeks to reach Bavaria, but come morning, and he will lead a small hunter party into Sweden's ruins, they had a King's body to find. the king was at the base of the eternal flame, and by either wounds or fall, had expired. Paul Baumgartner would carry king Maxirion V'harr to the ship himself, and would carve a tomb in Bavaria for him. At the Refugee camp, a small vigil was held for the Dead, and King Maxirion, the King in the North, the Martyr of Sweden, and most importantly The dear friend... Paul Baumgartner did not think he would ever know a friend quite like him again.

[8/23/2016 11:42:06 PM] Silvrose: ;( ))

[8/23/2016 11:43:54 PM | Edited 11:46:52 PM] Max: (God that was feelsier than I thought.)

[8/23/2016 11:50:27 PM] Silvrose: [Three weeks later] Paul Baumgartner had at log last returned home, at long last he could return to his kingdom, and his daughter, Theresa, who should now be sixteen. he only wished that Maxirion V'harr had not died getting them here. he would have loved Bavaria, and taken a liking to Theresa.  After the Swedish refugees had arrived, his Uncle, King Wilhelm had passed away in his sleep, with no children of his own. Paul would be king, but not before two Royal funerals wereheld, one for Wilhelm, in the simple traditons of Bavaria, and one for Maxirion V'harr, whose funeral was grand, one for a hero, and noted for a Pheonix landing upon the Sarcophagus... perhaps an omen of good fortune and rebirth in the near future, one last gift from a dear friend.

[8/23/2016 11:50:43 PM] Silvrose: (how is this?)

[8/23/2016 11:51:38 PM] MaxirionV: (A damned befitting epilogue. And with that, this RP is concluded. Thank you all for allowing me to lead you through Season Two of Mineciv and through Sweden's journey as a nation. I shall see you all in Season Three. Primo Victoria.)

[8/24/2016 12:01:26 AM] MaxirionV: (Ah, but one thing is left.)

[8/24/2016 12:02:18 AM] MaxirionV: [Slutet Sverige]

[8/24/2016 6:36:53 AM] David Clark: (Cause y'all wrote little continuations)

[8/24/2016 6:42:30 AM] David Clark: Martinus was at a small graveyard Drake and him set up, two graves sat upon the hill Thae'rin Nightbane and Drake Nightbane were the graves, his parents. He never knew his mother, nor would he ever. He had just truthfully gotten close to his dad when he left, Drake wanted to stay away from the world of the living now. Martinus wore the old crown of Novogorod, the crown originally lost and kept with Drake when he was taken away to the Frozen North. He sighed and stood up walking towards the town of Bavaria. He smiled to some of the Towns folk. He wore the crown, most would notice the royal crest of Novogorod, most would remember it. Most treated him with disdain due to his lineage, the Mad King. But Marty did not care, he was there to protect them til his dying breath.