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Viceroy Mistyanna Silvermoon


Lived in Era 10 and got 1 heir(s) (Fiana Silvermoon).

An immortal being, having lived from the dawn of time itself. She has and will always be loyal to her Queen Blakkat of the kingdom of Rebels of Inferno. Her and her queen have a long history together as close friends and companions on any journey.
She is considered an 'old soul', having lived many lives and seen much of the world throughout the ages. Her most trusted follower is Ronan, a young elven priestess born under her rule many years ago.

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General Runya, commander of the army of Booyah, looked out over her worn down troops. Many had died in that last battle over Mount Krondor. Legolantillis had been hit again. Three victories in just a few short months was quite welcome for the small army now numbering less than twelve thousand men.
The strategists had told them they had around a one and three chance of taking over the city. They had, yet again, defied the odds.
A short mage ran up to Runya.
"Queen Blakkat wishes to commend you telepathically!" the boy exclaimed.
"Indeed I do," Blakkat chuckled. "You've done quite well thus far. You know I never asked such a small army to do this for me. You've defended our lands and taken over enemies far greater than you. For this, I thank you and hold you in my highest esteem. I do not ask for you to continue."
"And you need not ask it," Runya countered. "My Queen, defending the Rebel name means more tan attacking only when we think we can win. We shall fight until we are no more...and this is sadly true for more than five hundred of our men. But we shall fight once more, and if we die, then we die."
"Do not speak of such ill matters!" Blakkat commended. "I shall speak with Lady Mistyanna. Likely, she will bring tidings of battles on her front. Please, do not die, Runya. You may yet be needed by more than just the military..."

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Ronan looked out over the grassy plains beyond the palace walls of her mistress' capital city of Jisatsu. Forests, mountains and rivers surrounded the small city, construction long stopped to turn sights upon the newer lesser colonies forming in the south. To the west rose a tower on the horizon, under the control of a Dwarven ruler in the 'Doom' kingdom. His intents remained unknown to the settling elves, and thus Ronan kept a sharp eye in the direction for any signs of attacks. Scouts had showed many more colonies under his rule further south. Too close for Ronan's liking to the new colonies and scout armies.
Word had just arrived to her of Queen Blakkat's latest prize. They had claimed victory from the jaws of defeat, but the loss had been too high for one's liking. In these times of wars, even one man could make the difference.
"Miss Ronan." A servant bowed in her chamber doorway and held out a scroll to the young woman. Ronan took it from his outstretched hand without a word and slowly read.
"So, our new scouts are ready, good. Give them the orders to head north, along the river. Avoid the mountain pass where the enemy colony lies, for we know not their intent yet." The servant bowed and retreated hastily to relay the orders. The Lady Mistyanna had left Ronan in order of all armies for the time being and she had been right in her judgment. The young priestess was well suited for the job, putting aside her strange choice of crafts.
"I do hope the sole ghost shall be alright, though." Ronan murmured. "I do not like the idea of risking one, no matter how useless he may be in battle." She sighed and returned to the messages upon the table in front of her.

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Runya staggered limping away from the battlefield. So much had just happened...
The strategists had told her that they would have a two in three chance of winning the battle...They had sorely underestimated their opponents' vigour. Clenching her teeth, she had to hold back her tears. So many men had died...Their army now numbered less than three hundred. But she had to push on for one last fight for Queen Blakkat. She had to make it to the enemy's largest base and hope he'd have drained his energy into his army. Not that Runya could expect the peasants to stand by and watch their city get attacked.
She heaved a heavy sigh. It would be a march to get there, and they could expect little help from the reinforcements that wouldn't get there for a while and numbered around seven hundred. A little more than a brigade of men, charging to her rescue?
She laughed at the thought and steeled her jaw. She would not be seen so low in morale...She had to inspire her warriors to victory, or at least a final stand. She and the remaining soldiers were all quite sure of their deaths. But they wouldn't go down without making the streets run red with the blood of the Mafia's syndicate. They would not go down without a fight!

Meanwhile, a young commander by the name of Slaetif grinned at his shining troops. They were also quite sure of their demise, but they wanted to kill as many as possible before they'd die. Even then, tens of thousands of troops were marching towards their fair city. Even now, they knew they would likely have no home to return to even if they managed a victory. But they'd press on, for the sake of the Rebel flag.
The banner of the flaming sword flew high and bright and new on their flagpoles beyond the mountains.
Even then, that same standard flew tattered over the heads of doomed men as they marched to their final demise....

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Runya heaved over the wall. She couldn't stand the sight of smoke over the mountains. Smoke from the fire that was burning the bodies of her soldiers.
"We lost 168 Swordsmen, no Archers, 229 Knights..." The worlds echoed in her mind. She had almost been the 230th knight to die.
But now was not her time. Her brigade's time had passed a while ago.
But she could still help! The army had only a few hundred knights, but those few hundred might make the difference they needed. Around eleven thousand troops were coming to knock on their doors. But did these troops know the pain of the loss of their kin? They might, but how many innocents had they killed or enslaved?
Runya clenched her teeth and grabbed a healing salve. She'd enter that battle with as many knights as would accompany her.
And maybe, yet again, she could paint the battle plains red, or at least get the death she so longed for as of late.
The tattered banner rode again, and the brigade charged to the rescue of their comrades across the mountains.

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Ronan’s brow creased in worry as she watched her mistress pour over a newly arrived message sent from the kingdom’s Queen Blakkat. Her mistress, Lady Silvermoon, had been staring at the parchment for a long time now and her frown tied a knot of worry in Ronan’s stomach. To ease her near-to-breaking nerves, the young priestess stared absently beyond the large windows. In the distance to the south, a tower peeked up in the horizon beyond the forests. Enzeru, one of the colonies in Lady Silvermoon’s rapidly growing empire. It was their magic tower, slowing becoming bigger and bigger as the days passed. Not far from there lay Ankoku, a rapidly growing colony, already filling every day with more citizens. Soon, it would need to be expanded yet again. North of it, along the river, lay Heisui, a newly built farming colony. North of there, and east of the forest below the capital city of Jisatsu where Ronan currently resided, lay the newest colony of Shikyo. It had begun to be set up as a training camp for new recruits to serve Lady Silvermoon under the flaming banner of Queen Blakkat. North, beyond the mountain pass beside the capital, rested two colonies hidden away between the river and mountains. Mikomi, another farming colony, and Akuma, an all-around resource-producing colony. All in all, Ronan had to admit their kingdom was shaping up. Now, if only it would last.
“Runya is as stubborn as ever, unfortunately,” Ronan almost jumped, startled as her mistress finally spoke.
“My lady?” The priestess questioned, puzzled.
“They’ve lost yet another few hundred warriors, yet she still pushes on in the name of the Queen.” Mistyanna replied, looking up to meet Ronan’s gaze with kind, hazel eyes. There was a soft wisdom held in those young eyes, one Ronan took after greatly.
“It is a troublesome loss.” Ronan agreed slowly, and then added, “We will honour our human brothers at moonrise tonight, My Lady.” Mistyanna nodded approvingly and Ronan hastened to make preparations. Then she would find her squire and send messages to the scout troops on their new orders.

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Runya looked out over the city that had once been theirs. Her eyes did not decieve her; few troops stirred here. "Too comfortable," she thought. Two knights brought a dwarven soldier bound between them.
"A mercenary spy from the Mafia," one knight said. Runya smiled grimly.
"And I suppose you've warned them, then, of our small prescence?" she asked.
"Was gonna," he said proudly.
"Send him back to his snivelling master," Runya ordered. "We've been discovered. We'll need to attack now."

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Runya panted as she hacked down another dwarf. She knew that there weren't many friendly faces left alive on the battlefield, but she knew this town. If she could kill the leader, everything would be worthwhile.
She didn't see the familiar, grinning dwarven mercenary's face as he landed atop her, axe first.

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Slaetif's eyes were bloodshot and weary. He held a torch to Runya's body and honorably incinerated it. They had come up on the city of Damines, and they were in utter horror to see their comrades dead.
Slaetif ripped himself from the scene. they hadn't gotten far into the city when they had attacked, he noted.
he jumped up onto his horse and rode to his comrades, clashing swords with them sometimes as he rode.
"Rebels, see here the tyranny of the Mafia? our people do not deserve to remain here! We must takethis city back!" he called.
"But sir, we'll be fighting unfavorable odds, and the straetigists say we've only got a smallish chance of taking over!" one said. Slaetif rode to him and looked him in the eye. The sun had yet to rise.
"It is always darkest just before dawn, good sir," the general told his knight. "If we cannot take it, we shall sieze the city until reinforcements should come, or until we can attack!" Then, he looked out across the small horde of shining knights as the sun peaked over the eastern mountains.
"We must not win this war for us, or even for these people. We must win it for the Queen, for the Rebels, for Runya, and for the world!" They rode with those words to battle and seized the city.

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"General Slaetif, sir, Blakkat cheers you on, but advises you to wait for reinforcements," a young squire stammered.
"Queen Blakkat knows much, but she hasn't seen this vicious view. She told me to command at will, and reinforcements aren't to arrive for days. By then, the Mafia shall have arrived. No, even with such small chance of winning, we must charge on, and if we die...Then we die fighting, as Runya did!" He looked out at his bloody blade. He thought to himself, "Runya was better than that. Even if she was ambushed, she wouldn't have died so easily. She'd have had to..."
"Sir, I shall follow you to death and beyond," the squire said. He bowed greatly and tore out his sword.
"Then you shall have a long journey cut out for you," Slaetif muttered. Then, he thought again," I shall devote myself as Runya did...Even if it means being so low that I must beg for death, as she did."

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Meanwhile, to the far west, some of Ezatious's cities fell to two new armies with quick-witted generals.
general Chase, of the Blokerz brigade of one hundred swordsmen, and General Cagh, of the Go Yaffa project, leading twenty thousand swordsmen along with himself, the twenty thousand and first.
Both wore bright armour and flew the banner of the Rebels.
They didn't know what they were getting in to.

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Armageddon soon destroyed the world not long after Mistyanna had started to make a comeback in the world. She, along with all her people and friends, were destroyed. But her daughter, Fianna, shall live on her legacy with the most trusted Ronan always at her side. Thus the age of the next Silvermoon began.

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