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(LoR) The Western Gate. | by Mark of Falworth
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(LoR) The Western Gate.



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Mark of Falworth and his companions finally arrived at the gates of the capital of Loreos at the crack of dawn. The huge walls stretched for miles and presented an unavoidable obstacle for any invading force. But now the towers and fortifications presented a different purpose, they stood as a dividing wall between two sides to a potential struggle of epic proportions, a struggle between Jarius Lorean, and Mark of Falworth.

The three travelers paused beneath the shadow of the entrance, barely a soul stirred to distract their preoccupied gaze.

Yursuff was the first to break the suspenseful silence. “See-a! I-a told you I could-a get you to da Capatal saflee!”


Mark turned around to face his companions with a look of amusement. “Yes, Yursuff. We never should have doubted you.”


Didrik was not completely convinced of their safety, and he eyed the city watch on the walls with a nervous glance. “Are you sure you want to go in alone, Mark? Surely, Yursuff and I could lend you aid should the prince attempt any evils against you.”

Mark shook his head and smiled. “I thank you both for your loyalty, but this is something I must do alone. Jarius wants to see me, and probably kill me. But I’ve been able to survive worse odds before and I need someone to carry some messages should I somehow not make it out.”


Didrik looked surprised. “Messages? For whom?”


Mark gestured with his arm in order to emphasize his directions. “Here is the plan. I go to see Jarius alone. But once I leave you, you begin to count the minutes. After one hour, and if I have not come back, you head for Capernaum post haste, where you will alert my forces of what has happened. They can choose to either strike out against the Prince, who has either captured or killed his own nephew, or they can disperse, and my name will soon be forgotten from history. Understood?”


Didrik’s brow wrinkled in distress at the thought of his friend being forgotten. “Why, every soldier in the army would give his life for your cause, Mark! We would never let history forget you!”


Mark adjusted his turban. “Don’t despair yet, Didrik! Before the hour is up, you may hear that the Prince, the Palace Guard, the City Watch, the Military Garrison and the Royal Fleet in the harbor have been overcome by me, and that I am master of the entire city! But if things should fare badly with me, and I come bursting out the gates hotly pursued by the Prince, it would be wise to be ready to run just in case.”

Didrik tried his best not to smile at the irony and ridiculous impossibility of both scenarios. “Understood, Sir. Good luck.”

Mark turned and began to walk to the gates but before he entered he whirled around and called out behind him. “Farewell my friends! Pray all goes well!”


To Be Continued!


The next part will eventually be presented by Mattius Xavier. Don't expect it immediately! We're crazy busy ok! ;)


Sorry for the grainy pic and the lack of doors or a portcullis. (Loreos doesn't need em!) This was the last MOC built before packing and I couldn't wait for better light or more time to add features.



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Taken on October 21, 2015