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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

Saga The Politics of Exile -- Thrawn's Story

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction- Before, Saga, and Beyond' started by Celina_Marniss864, Apr 1, 2003.

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  1. Celina_Marniss864

    Celina_Marniss864 Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 9, 2002
    Hey guys, I wrote this fic a while ago but for some reason I can't remember now, I only posted it at ff.n and not here... ::looks confused:: I'm silly sometimes. :p So anyways, I recently began work on the sequel to this story and thought I'd post the original here so I could get some feedback and hopefully ideas for the next installment in the saga. :) Enjoy! And feel free to give me any feedback whatsoever--good, bad, irrelevant... Doesn't matter to me.

    And now, on to the first installment! ::makes gallant gesture::

    ------------------------

    "This is unacceptable!" Rann'eal'teristi, chief speaker of the Ruling Families, shouted. He made no effort to contain his anger He had ordered this meeting to be private for that very reason. He had wanted the opportunity to have his words with the accused, without citizens watching. They hadn't been happy. Everyone wanted the chance to say that they had been present for a trial that would, most likely become one of the most famous events in their lifetimes. They would just have to wait for the sentencing.

    Mitth'raw'nuruodo, the accused who had previously been submissively studying the tiled floor, now looked Rann'eal'teristi directly and defiantly in the eyes.

    "They were manufacturing weapons," he said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact despite his precarious position, "That, along with various other signs, indicated that they were preparing for an attack. I thought--"

    "No, you didn't think." Nael'are'tanari, another speaker interrupted him.

    "It was a weapons instillation!" Rann'eal'teristi yelled, "We can't attack people because they produce weapons!"

    "It isn't moral," Mattl'ark'eari, the third and final speaker added, a bit more calmly than the others.

    "Precisely," Rann'eal'teristi agreed, "Can you prove their intent?"

    "All the evidence pointed in that direction," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said, still calmly meeting the gaze on the enraged speaker.

    "But you have no proof. 'The only acceptable proof of an Enemy's intent at war is war itself'," Mattl'ark'eari said, quoting the Warriors' Code.

    Mitth'raw'nuruodo hesitated for a moment, all of the arguments he'd thought of against that code coming to mind once again. He'd watched his father and sister die because of that code. But he shook those memories away. Now was not the time for such thoughts.

    "We cannot keep waiting for an outright war," he said, "It is this lack of action that is killing our people."

    There was a moment of silence in with Mitth'raw'nuruodo thought perhaps the speakers were beginning to doubt there precious, ancient morals and codes.

    "No," Rann'eal'teristi broke the silence, "it is our Enemies that are killing our people."

    "Then they should be dealt with accordingly," Mitth'raw'nuruodo replied, his patience wearing thin. Why was he the only one who could see this?

    "We cannot sacrifice our morals in dealing with them," Mattl'ark'eari stated.

    "Would you sacrifice your morals if an Enemy held a knife to your throat?" Mitth'raw'nuruodo questioned, "Or that of your child?" He held back the vivid memories that threatened to assault him. He casually touched the high, black collar that hid his own scar from that same attack.

    The speakers had no answer.

    "Enough," Rann'eal'teristi stated gruffly, "This argument simply continues to run in circles. You are dismissed. We shall reconvene tomorrow for you sentencing." He threw Mitth'raw'nuruodo an icy glare that made it clear that he wasn't at all happy with this argument. He didn't like questions that he couldn't answer.

    Mitth'raw'nuruodo met that glare with defiance as a pair of guards emerged from a side door and replaced his binders. The huge, wooden doors of the Kaa'pet'ale swung open and he faced a mob of angry citizens. He was somewhat surprised how quickly the news of his arrest had spread.

    Despite the circumstances--being led along like a prisoner by men who had followed his command just days ago--he kept his head held high. He didn't flinch as the mob assaulted him, calling him a murderer, a heret
     
  2. obaona

    obaona Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 18, 2002
    Ooooh. :eek:

    A Thrawn story! Very interesting, I like how you're going so far. And interesting that you have him be married . . . never thought him the type, for some reason. And a daughter? Hmm. Very interesting.

    More, please? :D
     
  3. Celina_Marniss864

    Celina_Marniss864 Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 9, 2002
    Yay, I have a reader! :D lol

    Obaona, I plan on posting the next snippet later today.
     
  4. TaRionne

    TaRionne Jedi Youngling star 1

    Registered:
    Nov 22, 2002
    This is GREAT! :D I read your story on FFN and loved it. You portray Thrawn's character very well, as well as present an interesting picture of Chiss politics.

    Up with this story! More should read this!
     
  5. Celina_Marniss864

    Celina_Marniss864 Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 9, 2002
    Thanks for the kind words, TaRione! I'm glad you like!

    Here's the next installment for my two faithful readers! :p

    -------------

    Alana could hardly believe the crowd. It seemed as though the entire city were there. Most astonishing of all, though, were the friends and neighbors who shouted curses along with the rest. The same friends and neighbors who had, not long ago, told her how lucky she was to be the lifemate of such a noble warrior leader.

    Traitors.

    She tightly clutched the pendant that always hung about her neck. He had carved it for her not long after they had met. It was an intricate knotted vine, a traditional symbol of eternal love.

    Her heart nearly shattered when she saw him. They kept him in binders, guarded by the very same men he had once commanded. Yet he kept his head held high, his face an expressionless mask. But she knew him better.

    Their eyes met as he passed. He said nothing but his gaze spoke volumes. He seemed to send her a silent assurance that things would be all right. And she wanted with all her heart to believe it.

    Then, all too soon, he was out of her sight. Still staring after him, she placed a hand to her stomach. Never before had she felt so hopeless. Her lifemate was facing judgment by the Ruling Families and there was nothing she could do to help him. Nothing except to not lose hope. She said yet another silent prayer to the seven gods. There was nothing more she could do.


    *****


    "What if he's right?" the thought struck Rann'eal'teristi as he stared out the huge panoramic window of his private quarters. He'd made many difficult decisions at this window.

    The town square, with it's monuments to great warriors and leaders, was visible and in the distance the mountains, haloed by the evening mist just beginning to form. It was a beautiful, inspiring sight. He'd fought for a long time to protect all of this. And always, in the back of his mind, was the nagging fear that one day he would wake up and it would all be gone--conquered, destroyed, or forever altered by one of the Enemies that seemed, always to plague them.

    "What if he's right?" What if Rann'eal'teristi and the others had been wrong all this time? Was the code out of date? Should they let go of their morals and take their vengeance on the Enemies?

    No. He shook away those traitorous ideas. Ethics were never out of date. He would rather his race face extinction than face dominance without morals. He would not allow his race to become barbarians.

    He sighed and turned from the window. He had considered the situation from every possible viewpoint and had concluded that there was only one thing to do. Despite his radical ideas, Mitth'raw'nuruodo was one of their greatest warrior leaders. It was a pity it had to come to this. He sighed again and left to discuss his suggestion for sentencing with the other family speakers.

    -------------

    There ya go! More soon...



     
  6. dianethx

    dianethx Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Mar 1, 2002
    Celina You have another reader. Great fic and about someone that most people would not write about. I've always wondered about Thrawn's exile and his people and you have brought them to life.
    Keep it up. Great job.

     
  7. Celina_Marniss864

    Celina_Marniss864 Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 9, 2002
    Thanks Dianethx! Glad you're enjoying! More to come soon...
     
  8. moff_Sammael

    moff_Sammael Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Nov 16, 2001
    This is great stuff! You've got very nice writing style, Celina (far better than me, that's for sure :D )

    Though the Chiss seem to me... well... perhaps TOO emotional. I simply can't imagine these cold, stone-faced buggers to stage an angry curse-shouting mob...
     
  9. Celina_Marniss864

    Celina_Marniss864 Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 9, 2002
    Thanks for reading, Sammy!

    As for the Chiss, you see this bugs me now too... But I wrote this story a while ago, before there was any official info on the Chiss. And I didn't want to go back and re-write the whole story, so I just kept the rather inaccurate portrayal. Actually, I've been considering writing on "official" version, now that there is official info on the Chiss and such. I really hate being inaccurate. lol Not that you could tell from this...

    Anyways, enough rambling from me... What's everyone else think? Should I write another version?

     
  10. moff_Sammael

    moff_Sammael Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Nov 16, 2001
    Ah, now that explains everything. :D

    As for another version, that's entirely up to you. We still don't know what Zahn's prequel book will be about (though in my opinion it will probably concentrate more on the Old Republic than Chiss society) and it can make practically any Chiss stories so far to become out of date. Maybe you could post your whole original story for us all to read, and then start editing if you feel like it.

    Should you choose to do so, however [a not-so-subtle persuasion of this one mean and nasty Moff follows ;)], maybe you could elaborate a bit more on politics among Chiss families - say (suggestion), the Csapla and Sabosen family would be firmly against Thrawn's actions, while Nuruodo family would somewhat half-heartedly defend him (military branch more than the diplomatic one), and Inrokini could take a neutral stance.

    One thing I wouldn't change, however. I like the deep affection between Thrawn and his wife - it adds another dimension to the story and shows that Chiss may be cold buggers and sorta formal, but they still have feelings. ;)
     
  11. Celina_Marniss864

    Celina_Marniss864 Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 9, 2002
    Ooh, great ideas, Sammy! :D I likes! Thankies!

    I shall try to post the next section tonight. :)
     
  12. TaRionne

    TaRionne Jedi Youngling star 1

    Registered:
    Nov 22, 2002
    Another good post!

    About rewriting it...I personally think it's a lot of work for a story that's already very good, but I do like moff_Sammael's ideas about the added political tension.

    Maybe you could write a sequel, maybe even from the point of view of the daughter? That would be interesting... :D

    I wish I had your talent, but my own Thrawn story is rather unpolished compared to yours. Please update soon!
     
  13. Celina_Marniss864

    Celina_Marniss864 Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 9, 2002
    Thanks TaRionne! Glad you're enjoying. :) I've actually just started writing a sequel... Currently it looks like it will mostly be from his and Alana's POV, but rest assured his daughter will play a major role.

    And so, without further ado, here's your next postie!

    -------------

    He lay awake, studying the ceiling. Again. he'd barely slept since this whole ordeal had begun. Not so much because of the terribly uncomfortable cot or the claustrophobia induced by the tiny cell, but because of the thoughts that kept nagging him.

    What if he'd been wrong? Perhaps there was nothing wrong with the code. He realized that they couldn't let vengeance get in the way of morals. If ever they came to the point of fighting for revenge rather than defense, they would be as bad as the Enemies.

    He shook the thoughts away. He hadn't done this for vengeance. He'd done it to save his people. He had vowed long ago to not let personal matters affect military matters. He sighed. Depending on how his sentencing went, he may no longer have to worry about military matters. Then what would he do? That thought terrified him. He wanted nothing more than to protect his people. What if he could no longer do so?

    He turned over and tried to shake away such thoughts. He would deal with the consequences of his sentencing when they came about. Lying here berating and worrying himself wasn't going to do any good. He closed his eyes and tried, once again, to sleep.

    *****

    Rann'eal'teristi awoke to the loud trilling of mzaris outside and the softer answer of his own pet c'are'pes, a similar species of avians. For just a moment, it seemed as though it would be a beautiful day. Just for a moment, however because, all too soon, the harsh reality of what he would have to do today returned.
    He rose and approached his c'are'pes. They chirped softly and occasionally fluttered their long elegant wings, dropping blue, green, and red feathers in the bottom of their cage. He sighed, slipping a few extra berries into their feeder.

    Today he would uphold the ideals of their ancestors and rid his people of a fiercely loyal and talented warrior leader. As he went through his morning ritual he tried to rid himself of such doubts. It was his job to protect and uphold the ancient laws, not question them. His people had questioned their laws before, had let one person break the rules and that had resulted in a disastrous confrontation dangerously close to civil war. He shuddered, glad that it had been before his time. It was because of his terror at the idea of causing another such dispute that he had decided to have no mercy on Mitth'raw'nuruodo.

    He chose to wear simple, sophisticated robes in burgundy, the same color as the uniforms of the Expansionary Defense, which signified justice and protection. Today he would show his people that such principles were alive and well.

    \\

    Nael'are'tanari allowed himself a smile as he entered his private transport. Yes, today would be a good day. He was about to, as the entire city watched, dispense justice to a dangerous radical.

    He had worn his most eloquent robes for this special occasion. If he was going to be remembered as a hero and protector of the ancient codes, he wanted to look good in the historical records.

    He gave another slight grin as he exited the transport and entered through the private back door of the kaa'pet'ale . Yes, today would be a good day.

    \\

    Mattl'ark'eari made her way swiftly and quietly to the meeting chambers. The others, who had arrived early, stood conversing in a corner of the room. She greeted them quietly, adjusting the simple black robes she'd chosen to signify the solemnness of the occasion.

    In the uncomfortable silence that ensued, Mattl'ark'eari found herself wondering how the others felt about this. She'd thought long and hard about this herself and had come to the conclusion that they were simply doing what had to be done. This was her job. There was no room to question it and certainly no room to allow emotions to get in the way of wha
     
  14. Celina_Marniss864

    Celina_Marniss864 Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 9, 2002
    All righty, here's the next bit of the story... I promist it's a bit juicier than the last post. ;)

    -------------

    She took her seat in the front row where she could be as close as possible to him. She found the seats filling rapidly, everyone competing for the best seat for what would, no doubt, be the most influential trial any of them would live to see. In a matter of minutes it seemed as though the entire city were there. They all made it a point to glare at her as they found their seats. She felt as though she would be crushed under the weight of their angered stares; and she hadn't even done anything.

    Suddenly, the gargantuan wooden doors swung ponderously open and she saw her beloved, once again, being led along like a common prisoner. They glared at him with the kind of hatred, accusation, and animosity one would have for a brutal murderer. And in their eyes he was.

    \\

    Mitth'raw'nuruodo had spent most of the previous night dreading this moment, most of the early morning pondering just what his punishment would be, and the few hours before the trial preparing himself. He had cycled through every practical emotion and demeanor and had now come to a point of quiet reserve. He would accept whatever punishment they gave him with all the grace and dignity possible. He would show no weakness. He had done the right thing, and if he let them think that he doubted that, then all of this would be in vain.

    He searched the crowd and finally found his lifemate sitting in the front row. She looked tired and forlorn and as beautiful as he had ever seen her. He gave her a small smile and a silent nod of reassurance and then turned his attention to the fate that lay ahead. He had faced the same crowd before, but this time was far more difficult. Where before there had been jeering, taunting, and accusations there was now nothing but a cold, dead silence. The anger was there still but now it was an icy, bitter anger that was displayed in glares that seemed to bore through to his very soul. If only they could truly see his soul. They would know that he had meant no harm. They would understand his intentions.

    He wanted to run, to hide, to shrink away to nothing--anything to escape the accusations. He had done the right thing. He had saved their lives. They simply did not understand that there were consequences for survival...

    He closed his eyes for a moment, took a breath, and pushed all of the frantic doubts and fears from his mind. When he opened them again he ignored the crowd and simply gazed ahead focusing on the enormous Expansionary Defense emblem displayed on the wall above the podiums where the judges waited. That emblem had once been a source of pride; now it seemed to loom over him, a glaring judgment.

    The proud warrior took his place in the center of the large mosaic floor pattern. It a was a popular design in government buildings. The sun was a source of inspiration and a reminder of their ancestor's struggles. It was an important religious symbol to his people. There was a single day each year when the sun could be seen at its full intensity due to several geographical and meteorological occurrences. That day began with ceremonies at the temples and then moved on to food, dancing and other various methods of celebration. It was at one of these celebrations that his intense interest in art had begun. He had attended an art show with his family and from that day forth had spent as much time as was feasible examining and studying every work in the museum. It was more than a simple interest in painting techniques, however. It was an interest in the emotion and motives behind the artwork. His curiosity had, by now, become an obsession, and he believed, with more study, could essentially become a weapon.

    Suddenly, he was torn from his reminiscence and thrown back into harsh reality by the sounding of the gong that brought the meeting to order.

    "This meeting of the High Council of the Ruling Families is hereby called to order," the guard who had rang the gong called out the official sta
     
  15. Celina_Marniss864

    Celina_Marniss864 Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 9, 2002
    Hey all... Sorry it's been so long since the last post... I've been busy with school stuff and I just got back from an extremely awesome Good Charlotte concert. So once I've recovered (hopefully tomorrow) I'll post the next section.

    :)

     
  16. moff_Sammael

    moff_Sammael Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Nov 16, 2001
    Oh, poor Thrawn! To be disgraced and cast away like that! :_|
     
  17. lordmaul13

    lordmaul13 Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Oct 18, 2000
    Most imressive. This is a very good story. I can't wait for the next post.

    lordmaul13
     
  18. Celina_Marniss864

    Celina_Marniss864 Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 9, 2002
    Hey, thanks for reading Lordmaul (and everyone else, of course :) ). Here's your next post!

    -------------

    The reaction was silence--a terrible silence in which the words seemed to hang. Even the citizens who had, just a few minutes ago, been out for blood had been silenced by the severity of the verdict.

    Mitth'raw'nuruodo released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, feeling as though he'd just suffered a physical blow. Exile? The word rang through his mind, sounding harsh and cruel.

    "No!" It was his wife who broke the silence and interrupted his reeling. She ran to his defense, protesting with shouted curses punctuated by sobs. The guards had soon detained her, however, allowing Rann'eal'teristi to continue.

    "Guards will be placed at your residence and will accompany you at all times during this period. Once your allotted time has elapsed they will escort you, along with the authorized personal effects, to the local civilian docking bay from which you will depart and be escorted to your place of exile."

    Unable to decide on an acidic retort or another statement of defense, Mitth'raw'nuruodo settled on a simple nod. There were no words that would convince them to change their minds. They would never understand and in three days he would no longer have anyone to convince.

    *****

    As he entered the very same prison where he had been held just days earlier, Mitth'raw'nuruodo came to the conclusion that things certainly looked a bit better from the other side of the cell. Of course, considering the circumstances, his position was not much of a comfort.
    The ever-present guards accompanied him to the cell where Daas'ten'talon, once--and hopefully still--his one true friend, was being held. They marched along the silent hallway, the sound of their boots on the cold, metallic floor echoing loudly in time with his nervously pounding heart.

    They passed by the solid, locked doors behind which murderers, thieves, and various other deviants--and perhaps even other innocents like himself--went about driving themselves mad. The thought sent a chill down his spine and he could imagine his guards trying to suppress a smirk as they realized the effect this place had on him. Let them laugh. They couldn't possibly comprehend what it was like to fall victim to their system. Having spent a period of time detained in one of those cells, he now intimately understood the process. There was no more efficient way to neutralize a criminal than to drive them insane. One was locked in a cell, which unlike the more public areas used for the more minor offenders, were devoid of windows or anything at all other than an uncomfortable cot. There was either no light at all or light of an excruciating intensity. And there was no way to entertain oneself other than thoughts which quickly turned bleak and hopeless. And on top of all of this some of the more violent offenders were kept under the influence of sedatives and various other drugs. A few days would leave one severely shaken. A long enough period of time with treatment of this sort would leave one a pitiful, misanthropic introvert too terrified and delusional to cause anyone any harm.

    He had quickly come to loathe this place and everything it stood for. It made him ill to think that some faction of his people had created such a place and that others had been so willing to ignore and allow its presence simply because it was done in the name of "science."

    He took a deep breath as they stopped at one of the anonymous doors, wondering grimly what condition he would find his confidant in. As the guards entered the lock code, he took a moment to straighten his tunic, still not accustomed to the civilian clothing. He much preferred the uniform he no longer had the privilege of wearing.

    The door slid open with a soft hiss and the captive looked up, startled by the sudden presence of light, from where he sat huddled in a corner. Upon realizing who his visitor was, Daas'ten'talon got to his feet and gave a somewhat shaky salute. Mitth'raw'nuruodo winced sli
     
  19. lordmaul13

    lordmaul13 Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Oct 18, 2000
    Maybe I should buy a tent.

    Ha ha ha!

    Really good job. This is a great story.

    lordmaul13
     
  20. moff_Sammael

    moff_Sammael Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Nov 16, 2001
    *Shudders at the thought of the most horrendous Chiss tortures, featuring Spock-like remarks and boring victims to their deaths*

    :D
     
  21. neila_nuruodo

    neila_nuruodo Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Aug 3, 2002
    Ooh, you're posting this story here? How cool. :D Keep it up; about changing it-do what you want. Sounds like it'd be hard, but then what do I know... :)

    Alright, I've upped it, now everyone come read this awesome story!!
     
  22. thebadge

    thebadge Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 15, 2002
    Great story, I love Thrawn. More please.
     
  23. TaRionne

    TaRionne Jedi Youngling star 1

    Registered:
    Nov 22, 2002
    *levitates thread with the Force*
     
  24. Celina_Marniss864

    Celina_Marniss864 Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 9, 2002
    Neila, I'm a feedback junkie, so yeah. :) And changing it probably would be hard, but I love a good challenge. ::wicked grin::

    Thanks to everyone who's reading! I'm probably going to post the next chapter tonight or tomorrow.
     
  25. Celina_Marniss864

    Celina_Marniss864 Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 9, 2002
    All righty, everyone, here's the next postie! Enjoy!

    -------------

    Chaos. That was the only word to describe what took place before him as the Expansionary Defense's carefully planned strategy fell apart. Chaos--gods he hated that word. He watched, horrified as the army of alien warriors laid waste to the city square. They used their strange weapons to destroy or vandalize the sculptures that stood about the square, all the while shrieking curses to his people for having created works that defied the "true" gods and sought to create others.
    It wasn't long before they began destroying lives as well. In their eyes, these beings who had defied them--who still refused the "true" gods after all of the demonstrations of their power that they had been offered--must die. Those who refused the "truth" and cleaved to ancient lies were not worthy of life.

    "Listen, I've got to go help them. I've got to do whatever I can. You two stay put," his father said. "And Mitth'raw'nuruodo, watch over your sister."

    He nodded, "I will." He watched as his father placed his charric in its holster and grabbed a small dagger from a drawer. He stood there looking after him long after his father had gone, a vague sense of worry nagging at the back of his mind. He refused to allow the nebulous question to form fully. He was far too afraid of the answer he would give and he could not allow himself to break down. He had to be strong for Sheran.

    "Is Father going to be all right?" He heard her small, timid voice asking the very same question that he had just refused from the corner in which she huddled, flinching at every sound.

    "I don't know," he said, refusing to lie to her. "I think he will be." He took his place of vigilance at the window once again. "I'm going to watch him the whole time and I'll tell you everything that happens."

    He did just that for what seemed like hours, trying not to flinch himself every time he saw someone fall. He watched his father, charric in one hand, blasting those at a distance and defending himself from the rest with the dagger. He fought gallantly, dauntlessly like a vindictive god wreaking his vengeance on those who had been so impudent as to incur his wraith. Soldier after hated soldier fell to his unyielding power. And all around the once beautiful square countless others did the same. And all about the now ravaged square, countless intrepid warriors perished in the names of their people, their families, and their freedom.

    And suddenly, he noticed the absence of the occasional whimper from Sheran. She had been entirely quiet for quite some time. He looked back over to her corner, a vague sense of dread twisting his stomach. He found the corner empty. She had slipped through the door that had been left open and he hadn't even noticed, as enthralled as he'd been in watching the battle. Panic seized his heart and every other muscle in his body, momentarily paralyzing him. When he was finally able to free himself from the clutches of this dismay, he ran and seized the scimitar that hung above the altar in the hall. Then he rushed out the door and into the very heart of the pandemonium that now reigned supreme in the once peaceful square. After a few disquieting moments, he spotted her in the very center of the fray, dodging weapons and wincing as she stepped over and around fallen bodies. Their father fought on, having not yet noticed the tiny child making her way through the riot.

    Mitth'raw'nuruodo ran after her, trying to watch in every direction at once, knowing that should he let his guard down for a split second it may very well be the end of his existence. He tried to keep Sheran in his sights as he cut a path through the legions of Enemies that seemed to multiply with every passing minute. He shouted her name but to no avail. He was not close enough to be heard above the din of clashing weapons and crashing structures.

    "Daddy!" he heard her scream. He sliced his way past the last of the aliens in his way just in time to see her grab her father about the waist. The battle
     
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