Clairc, Based of the unfinished novel

[Lugana]

Characters: (A few were pre-chosen)

Clairc Valor Rose (Green Child)– This is one of the more complex characters in the story. Clairc is notable for being primarily a loner. At first he comes off as cold and deeply distrustful. His company and his superiors regard him as difficult to deal with but greatly respect his loyalty, courage and intelligence. However, Clairc gradually warms as the story progresses, and is later revealed that his deliberate detachment from his companions is a defensive mechanism in order to protect himself from emotional pain like he experienced when his parents were killed by his older half brother, Damian. His personality warms considerably once his fear of losing those close to him is dragged out into the open by Serenity and confronted. He was a tall, sandy haired swordsman for the Shomoro army until he discovered his destiny. Eventually, he finds out that he is a powerful phoenix warrior like his brother.

Lugana Charity Ericks (Lugana)- An energetic half-lunar with remarkable swordsmanship. He is peace loving and is always willing to help others. He tends to have a positive outlook on life even in the most desperate situations. His happy-go-lucky style tends to land him in a bit of trouble from time to time, and his unbreakable habit of heroism causes the party to become involved in things that could be avoided otherwise. At first, sparks fly between Clairc and Lugana, but as Clairc warms as story progresses, they build a strong friendship. He also finds out later that he is a powerful phoenix warrior.

Serenity Faith Loving (Three)- A passionate rebel that fights for anything good and true. Outspoken, spirited, emotional and compassionate, Serenity is in many ways the polar opposite of the cold and unsociable Clairc. Although their personalities do clash at first, Clairc and Serenity gradually fall in love. She may not have the potency of the other party members, but with a bow and arrow she can be very vigorous.

Aria De Desperado (?)- A tough as nails half-lunar that wields a giant boomerang. Although she is a gifted warrior, she has a stubborn, arrogant, and sometimes unpredictable nature. She made it a practical hobby to poke fun and sometimes hurt Lugana, while truly being fascinated by Lugana’s happy-go-lucky ways. She warmed to him, trying her best not to show it, believing it to be a weakness. Her crush only grew overtime.

Damian Vigor Rose (Lugana)- The most formidable demonic phoenix warrior that ever lived, Damian is a being of extreme evil, though not insane, as one would assume. He is capable of leveling a city with a single Demonic wave and has no regard for human life. Fully aware of the prophesy of the Lunars, that a light phoenix warrior would rise against him, he became obsessed with the dream of becoming all powerful. After he overtook the king of the Western Kingdoms, he sought for the neutral energy of the planet, by which he could absorb the power becoming "a living god", theoretically incapable of dying. He is Clairc’s half-brother on his mother side. Clairc and his party end up venturing out to defeat him, in hopes of preventing him from ever fulfilling his dream of becoming a God.


Joshua Matthew Shields (The Though Fox)– A cunning, wisecracking, womanizing, “treasure hunter”. He is more then fair with his daggers and his speed and skill with a lock pick is unparalleled. He won't admit it, but at times Joshua uses his skills for theft. He prefers to be considered a treasure hunter and easily intimidated by anyone who refers to him as a thief. His first meeting with Clairc’s party was during their first encounter with Damian. Clairc saved Joshua from an untimely demise and from then on, Joshua felt that it was his duty to return the favor. He joined Clairc’s party not knowing that his actions would someday become intertwined with the fate of the world.

See “Clairc” in the Rpg and Character Submission section for more details.



Clairc, Lugana , and Serenity:

It was early spring. The snows of the winter had come and passed and only left its faint memory in the thawing ground. Warmed by the touch of the sun, damp fields lay open to the sky, covered only by a faint green blush as the first tender shoots emerged from their winter’s sleep. Early one fine morning, when the air was still cold, the man Clairc Valor Rose, dressed in his usual black sleeveless shirt and combat pants, emerged from his tent. This was his first morning in the fields of Maran and the slowly creeping day promised it wouldn’t be his last. Clairc was a tall, sandy haired swordsman for the Shomoro army. His company had been dispatched early that week for Maran City. He knew very little of the mission before him, but he had a feeling that his military training was going to put to use in the following days.

His company traveled at his side, along other companies. He knew his company members talked about him behind his back. They called him selfish and a loner, but he didn’t care. They weren’t his friends. He didn’t need friends. Everyone has to look out for his or her self. That’s the only way one can survive in this world.
Johan came staggering out of his tent as Clairc finished building a campfire with the bark he brought along in his pack mull. The tall archer had made many attempts to talk to him over the last week, and each time, Clairc shot him down. Clairc was certain he gave up the last time, but yet again, yawning Johan walked over to him and began to talk.

“It’s a fine morning, wouldn’t you say?” Johan asked squatting to warm is hands by the fire.

Clairc pulled two eggs from his pack and cracked them over an iron pan. He held the pan over the flames, using a piece of cloth to protect his hand from the heating metal.

“It’s a fine morning, wouldn’t you say?” Johan repeated noticeably louder.

“Yes, it is.” Clairc said shortly as he flipped one the eggs with his knife.

“Yes, well. You know, back in hometown, we use to pray for mornings like these. Our winters were long and cold and it’s hard to grow crops in the snow.”

Clairc nodded his head and turned his back to him, hoping he would give up and go away.

“Where did you grow up?” Johan asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Clairc said.

“Oh…” Johan went silent for a minuet. “Well, I guess I will talk to you later.” Johan finally said with defeated tone.

“Whatever.” Clairc muttered. That was possibly the shortest attempted Johan had made yet. Clairc felt a smile creep across his face. He knew that there weren’t going to be many more.

A half hour after he had eaten, his company was fully awake and preparing for the upcoming day. His commander, Zack Loving, was talking with a group of Johan’s friends as Clairc finished packing his horse. Zack was dark haired man of a medium build and always had something of a dangerous look about him. Clairc liked him. He was a good leader and didn’t talk too much like the other men. He was an iron fist. Zack broke away with his usual frown on his face.

Zack found a large rock to stand on near the center of the deteriorating camp and called for everyone’s attention in a loud, commanding bass. Once everyone was silent he said, “Most of you know that we should arrive in Maran sometime tomorrow evening. I have been instructed to give your first briefing at this point to prepare you for what lies ahead. We are heading for what has be labeled a civil war zone. A rebel party managed to rally enough citizens to overtake the guards in the city. Their attempt to overthrow our government is going to be met by us and by the local soldiers. Our first objective is to penetrate the city and make our way to the base, where we shall receive the second part of our briefing.”

“What were the rebels reasons for overthrowing the city?” Conan the bald axe man asked.

“I was not given that information. I have tolled you all I know.” The subject dropped.

They road at a steady canter that day, but still Clairc wished he could ride faster. This was Clairc’s first combat mission and he was eager to test his skills on some real opponents. He had fought in training and graduated the top of his class, but this was for real. It was life or death. Clairc knew he shouldn’t be excided about that, but he couldn’t help himself. He had trained so long for the upcoming day and he didn’t what to ruin it with fear.

Once they slowed to trot, Clairc heard the same loud voice he couldn’t help but to hear every day. It was Lugana Ericks riding alongside Johan. Clairc found this longhaired man to be annoying and immature. Why couldn’t he act like a normal human being?

“I hate to admit,” the longhaired man was saying, “But this is going to be my first mission. I know I should be afraid, but I’m not. I just can’t wait for it to start.”
Finally, something they had in common.

“To be honest, I would like to delay the fighting for just a little while longer.” Johan said, “I have seen far to many battles in my time. I think I am starting to feel my age, if you know what I mean.”

“I understand.” Lugana said, “My father was like that near the end of his career. He was acutely labeled a hero for saving the king of Ce’mya from an assassin. As the years began to catch up with him, his passion for fighting left him and all he wanted to do was spend his time in the garden.”

“Ce’mya?” Johan asked with a hit of surprise in his voice. “Isn’t that the kingdom in the Lunar Forest?”

“Why yes it is.” Lugana said.

“I thought they hated all outsiders.” Johan said.

“No, they hate most outsiders.” Lugana said, “My father fell in love with one of their woman when he was captured traveling through their forest. He spent nearly two years locked up in one of their prisons. My mother was the woman who captured him.”

“Your mother?” Johan asked, becoming nearly as loud as Lugana.

“Yeah. She was beautiful woman from what I can remember of her. Green hair I think it was.” Lugana said.

“That’s would mean you are a Lunar. Er… by any chance, do you have… well….” Johan made gestured to his ears.

Lugana smiled, “Pointed ears?”

“Yes,” Johan said, “Not trying to offensive or anything, I have never seen a half-lunar before.”

“None taken.” Lugana pulled back his brown hair and revealed a single pointed ear. “I only have one. It is very rare for a half-lunar to have pointed ears.”

“That’s amazing. I have never seen anything like it.”

Lugana let his hair fall back into place. “Anyway,” Lugana continued, “at first she would visit him ever once in a while to see how her first prisoner was doing. Then she began to visit him more often, not because she pound of her first captive, but because she enjoyed his company.

“Near the end of his first year, my mother began to talk to the king about letting him go. This began an uproar in the kingdom. You see, during this time they were at war with the mountain men and saw anyone who entered the forest as a potential spy. She knew my father was no spy and spent many months proving her case to the king. It was law during wartime to take anyone who entered the forest prisoner until the war ended, but she still persisted in trying to get him out.”

“She must have really loved him, didn’t she?” Johan asked.

“My father was a good man.” Lugana voice dropped. “He was very easy to respect and love. Her case was solid enough to make the king question his law. They brought him into the throne room to question him. He stood in fount of the king and began to explain why he entered the forest and where he was going. He was heading to Gyia on military business. Then, from the corner of his eye, she spotted an assassin lurking in a dark corner with a throwing dirk. My father announced his presents before the assassin threw the dirk. My father jumped in front of the king and took the assassin’s dirk in his right shoulder. The assassin then jumped out the window, killing himself.

“My fathers actions were enough to prove that he was no enemy of the king and was set free. He was named hero for his bravery and was invited to stay in the kingdom. He decided he would stay until his wounds heal, but he ended up staying much longer. He spent another year there and my mother became pregnant with me. I was born in that forest and spent the first seven years of my life there. I remember being called a half-bread by the Lunar adults and made fun of by their children. My mother died when I was seven of some sort of disease and that’s when I left the forest with my father to live in Valhara.”

“It must have been hard.” Johan said with a building sympathy in his voice.

“I can hardly remember it... my father, when I was old enough, taught me how to use this thing,” Lugana’s sword sang from his scabbard. Its long silver blade was shining brilliantly in the afternoon sun. There was something written in the blade in a language Clairc had never seen before.

“This was a gift from my mother to my father for his thirtieth birthday.” Lugana said. “She had the best blacksmith in the forest forge this blade. Afterwards, she engraved her endless love for him in the blade in her native tough. My father never tolled me word from word what it said, but I am sure it is beautiful. He gave it to me in his will.” Lugana paused for a moment, his expression turned pained. “Soon after I mastered the sword he sent me off to join the army, like his father had done to him. He died last year of cancer. It was a sad day for us all. I am the last of my bloodline… Lugana Charity Ericks, half-bread of the Lunar Forest ”

The conversation died after that last sentimental statement. Clairc found himself feeling sorry for Lugana and then amazed from how quickly the conversation’s mood had changed.

Clairc looked back on his own life. He never knew his parents and he grew up in an orphanage with ten other children. He rarely talked with the other kids and they would never ask him to participate in their childish games. Clairc was often up in his room, alone with nothing but his own thoughts. Clairc had given much thought to the idea of death. That’s the way it was. People die. Sometimes, even people you love, but you can’t let it weigh your heart. Why grow close to people if in the end you are just going to lose them… right?

Later that night, when tents were up and fires warmed the camp, Clairc stood alone by his campfire, gazing up into the sparkling stars and dreaming of the upcoming battle.

“Rose.” A familiar stone cold voice came up from behind him. Zack emerged from the vaporous darkness. The golden light of the fire seemed to dance in his deep brown eyes as he approached Clairc. His mood was somber as usual. “We need to talk.”

“Yes sir.” Clairc said. “How may I help you?”

“We’re coming close to our destination, as you know, and one of our Company leaders as fallen very ill. You have remarkable scores in both combat and tactical on the SQT.” Shomoro Qualifying Test, “Actually, you have the best of any man that has ever come under my command. How would you like to lead the Gate Company tomorrow.”

Clairc’s mind was racing. He was has already been asked to lead with his lack of experience? His scores had been the highest in his class, but to be given the role of a leader on his first real mission? His voice betrayed no hint of his true excitement, “I would be honored to lead the Company.”

Destroying the city walls was too risky. It would leave the city open to enemy attack once they reclaimed it from the rebels, so a non-traditional tactic was formulated. The Gate Company’s objectives were to sneak into the city and open the gate. After the gates open, the Wall Company were to rush the city, clearing the way to the base of the guards had created in the city capital. If all else fails, then the Wall Company kept the wall’s defenses busy. The Tunnel Company was to dig a small passage under the city walls for the Gate Company while the Wall Company was to bring out the siege equipment.

“Good. Once inside, you will have no information on how the gate controls are guarded. That’s why I need someone with your skills to lead the Company. Because you are now a Company leader, you will also need you to come with me as I receive the new objectives and then to deliver them to your Company. Do you have any questions?”

Clairc thought for a moment. “Who will be under my command?”

“You will have the smallest Company. Conan Zane, our best axeman, and Lugana Ericks, the only other swordsmen that scored as high as you in the Combat part of the SQT.”

The name Lugana made Clairc’s gut wrenched. He had to deal with that loud mouth as his Company sneaks into a heavily guarded city. What was Zack thinking? “Did you say Lugana Ericks sir?”

“Yes, is there a problem?” Zack asked with a steady gaze.

“No sir.” Clairc lied, “Just making sure I had my information straight.”

“Good. We will arrive at the city by tomorrow evening. Get some rest tonight Rose. The action starts as soon as the city is seen in the evening sun.”


Serenity was at her station on the West wall. A soft orange tin covered the Maran felids as the setting sun slowly found its home behind the Judas Mountains. The cool evening winds carried the sent of pollen and wild flowers up from the fields up to her. Serenity was an attractive woman with slim features, blue white eyes, and hazel brown hair. She was dressed in a green archers tunic and a green skirt that came down to her knees. Her bow and quiver rested easily on her back.

They were coming. A scout had just reported that King Rufus’s troops were no more then a day away. Tomorrow the battle to liberate Maran was going to begin.

She turned from the fields at looked back into the city of her birth. It was hard to believe that this was once the golden city of Maran where art prospered and freedom reigned. But when the Western Kingdoms came in twelve years ago and took control of the nation, everything collapsed. Now all that lay before her were slums of broken dreams. Young children begging for food in the filthy streets, while their parents were at home drinking, doing their best to escape the pain of poverty. Nothing prospered here anymore. Rufus had made sure of that. It was his fault that her father was killed in the war. It was his fault that her people were dying out. The Haven people were not going to submit to any foreign ruler. They were going to fight. Their king maybe dead, but they were going to fight all the same. When Rufus’s troops appeared tomorrow at the gates, they were going to be ready.

The first stars began to fill the orange sky. Tonight she was going to rest, for tomorrow, she going to fight for her people. Tomorrow….

[Three]

The next morning dawned peacefully without any indication of the bloody war that was to take place. Serenity opened her eyes to see the subtle orange light that had begun to flood the horizon and illuminate the East wall of Maran. Stretching, she took to her post and looked out over the fields – the enemy troops would be coming, they would be here, and the Haven people would have to stand up and fight. There was only one chance, it was fight or die, win or lose, stand up or cower under a foreign ruler. She, Serenity, would not cast aside her pride and honor to submit – hopefully, her people would not either.

Serenity yawned and turned away from the fields. The now soiled city whose former beauty and dignity lay buried beneath the immoral filth and physical ruin of twelve years loomed before her like a bad dream, a nightmare. But this was no nightmare, no apparition of the mind, it was, in fact the wicked reality that resided in the thoughts of everyone affected. With the sun still rising in the sky, Serenity abandoned her post for the next sentry, and made her way into the once great city of Maran.

As she walked down the grimy streets and maneuvered about the sludge filled gutters, Serenity found herself deeply troubled by the desolateness of her surroundings. Derelict houses and ramshackle cottages cluttered the roads, and famished children with bleeding wounds clustered around hogs’ pens waiting for discarded scraps. Slowly and carefully she continued to walk through the city until she came upon a small house, barely discernible among the litter and infirmity of the city. Removing a little brass key from a necklace around her throat, Serenity unlocked the small door and entered, closing out the ruin and pain that thrived outside.

“Ah, Child, I did not know you’d come so early,” hissed a spidery, dry voice from the corner of the room. Serenity stepped further inside. A tall, pale, woman sat rigidly in her high-backed rocking chair, her lengthy, greying hair wrapped around her like a shawl. Her eyes, green and cat-like, darted quickly across the room, as Serenity moved into the firelight.

“Mother, I have news from the scout. Rufus’ troops are less than one day’s journey from our walls, our gates. They are planning an attack…are our forces prepared?”

The woman’s face was momentarily illuminated in light. She folded her long spidery fingers in her lap and sighed. “Prepared? Our forces are always prepared. We train every day… it is only a question whether or not they are ready to stand up and fight. I will be leading the Upper Company, and I will have a messenger alert the troops.”

Serenity sighed; her mother had never been less optimistic about a battle. Shifting her weight uneasily from one foot to the other, Serenity shook her head. “Will I be leading the infantry?”

Her mother nodded in agreement. Serenity had always been a leader, just like her mother. She was always leading one troop or another, ever since she had been able to wield a sword and use a bow. Whether this battle would end in her freedom or her death was of no consequence to her – Serenity would not rest easily unless she fought for her people. Outside of the house, the citizens of Maran were stirring; the most important day of all days to come was just starting but, nevertheless, time was of the essence. With sword at hip and bow on shoulder, Serenity and her mother set out to fight. Today would be the beginning of a long journey to freedom…

[Green Child]

three hours before the army was in place.

"you wanted to see me Rose" Claric saluted smartly

"Sir" he paused " I wished to discuss my company's role in the battle, I think I know a better way.."

"Spit it out Rose" he said quietly. It all came down to this, he thought. When he was training in the sword he had learned that the best swordsman was not only the one who learn everythinghe could but also the one with the best imagination because it was not simply enough to know the counter block parry and attack routines, you have to adapt them to be useful in any fight to keep your opponent off balance. He had learn't that in life as well.

"I think that the tunnel idea is flawed sir, and would like to put forth my own idea"
he said quietly "the tunnel loses the element of surprise and by the time my company gets into the city there will be rebels running everywhere. It seems unlikely that we can wade through an army of rebels to get to the gate. I have an improvement"

" you are on very thin ice captain, but i'll hear you out"

"Why don't my company simply walk in?" he asked

Zack laughed and then slowly he stopped "You're serious?"

"Why not? we have many old rebel uniforms, and we can always damage them as if they were in a fight recently and we can be given fake dispatches to their council, an old password for the gate. Once were in, all we have to do is kill the gate guards as silently as possible, lower it and then destroy the gate mechanism."

"We did just get a report of the first cavalry being aniliated. But what's to stop you from being found out."

"Orders sir. My company will have news for the leader of the rebels. I can play on that so they don't ask too many questions"

"How would you destroy the gate mech?" he paused "not that i'm really considering this?"

"We know that maran's gate is an old winch set up, the rebels will not have had tim to improve"

"No sword will cut that rope!" he objected

"I wasn't goning to cut it sir, I was going to use red brandy to blow it up"

"Blow? And what about the noise solider?"

"By that point it will be irrlevent, the first wave of toops will be marching in."

"hmmmm. it has possibilities but what happens if you are caught or killed?"

"The the gate doesn't lower after it has for us and you find yourself a new gate company to go through the tunnel. Sir."

"Alright captain, you have my permission to try." He called in a messenger "put four horses out in the tee line with some old rebel clothes, they don't have to be that clean. Oh and get someone to forge a rebel letter would you."

"Yes sir" said the man.

"Get into the treeline claric, with your men, change their, come out at an angle to the army, at full speed. Flee from us to the gate".

"Sir"

It was time to get his men....

[Lugana]

Lugana laid lazily on a flat rock while he waited word from his Captain. His captain, Clairc, wasn’t very keen about the idea of tunneling into the city, but Lugana didn’t know if he had something else in mind.

Clairc kept to himself mostly and it was rare to hear him speak more then two words. Clairc’s silent nature intrigued Lugana. Was he shy? Was he hiding something? Or was he just selfish like everybody thinks? Lugana didn’t believe that to be the case. He was looking forward to working Clairc. Just what type of man was he?

A small, lanky man came speeding up to him. It was Jay Willows. He had short brown hair and a lazy eye that Lugana found to be a bit disconcerting. Nevertheless, he liked Jay and was glad to see him.

“Hi Jay.” Lugana greeted with a sincere smile.

“Sir,” said Jay hastily, “your Captain has asked me to deliver you your orders.”

Lugana sat up becoming very serious. This wasn’t a social call. This was Clairc finally making his move. “Go on.”

“Your captain wants you on the treeline ASAP. He will brief you and Conan as soon as you arrive. He also requests that you bring your sword….”

[The Thought Fox]

Despite the fact that a battle loomed on the horizon, Maran was remarkably peaceful tonight. The rebel soldiers that patrolled the streets, enforcing their hastily-announced curfew, were on edge as ever, but they were easier to avoid tonight than they had been last night.

Joshua Shields, currently pressed against the corner of a small wooden house with his knees slightly bent so that he was almost in a crouching position watched as two such soldiers looked around, presumably for their superiors rather than intruders, and lazily slumped onto a public bench against the wall of the tavern across the street. The moon was the only light source, and the clouds ensured that he had shadows to travel through. Confident that they were comfortable, Joshua ducked out of his hiding place and dashed silently up the street.

His heavy-looking boots made far less noise than an onlooker would have thought, but this was probably because he was so used to running in this way. Silence was as valuable as tool as shadow, and in his profession it was essential.

He found it remarkable that in a world torn by war, with rebels overthrowing towns left, right and centre, only to have the army overthrow them in return, that treasure hunters were so mistrusted. He wasn’t trying to make a quick penny out of people’s suffering. If the people knew what he was doing, they’d probably pay him through the nose to continue…

…well, they wouldn’t complain as much, anyway. The paying was probably going too far. Still, in time of war, wishful thinking kept him going.

As he bolted up the street towards the temple, the only sound that could be heard was the rustling of his jacket and his sack. His jacket was made of rough cow-hide and tanned to perfection, but the inner lining was the finest silk, with a number of different shaped pockets, including one either side for his prized daggers. He liked to think of his jacket as a little piece of him. Not only was it his trademark, the item of clothing that identified him over his rivals, but it represented him well. A tough, hardy exterior, with a secretive and charming interior; that was Joshua Shields!

On his back he wore his tattered Khaki rucksack, a souvenir of his childhood. It rustled slightly louder than the jacket as it was stuffed with straw. After going to the lengths he did to gather his treasures, he didn’t want to break them on his way back.

He reached the temple doors, ducked behind a pillar and checked quickly yet thoroughly for any patrolling rebels. Satisfied, he knelt down swiftly by the door and removed the left dagger from inside his jacket. Holding the blade carefully, so as not to cut himself, he give the hilt a firm twist and it slid neatly away, revealing two lockpicks slotted into the metal underneath. He lay the dagger of the floor, pulling the picks out and began working on the lock.

OOC: That's all I've got time for today folks.

[Green Child]

IC:Claric (BTW sorry only just got access to the internet)


"Open the Gates" he cried as he lead his small company of men at the rebel stronghold (he hoped that this worked) as they were being 'chased' by thirty men of the regular army.
"OPEN THE DAMNED GATES!!!!!!" the foolish gaurds rushed to obey and it seemed the time stopped for Claric in that instant, that he wa able to realise how much he hated what he was doing, not that he didnot see the nessecity of it, simply that he also saw that war was such a waste and the fights that the poets glory and the minstrals sing about were nothig like the reality. War was spitting dirt of of your teeth with an arrow lodged in your leg, war was the death of people you loved, the supreme hatred of man for itself. War was what he was about to do.

How he hated it.

The horses, sweat soaked and trembling, pounded through the gates, which were hastily shut behind them with a loud bang. At the prearraged signal, all of his company dismounted and moved toward the gate guards, seemingly at complete ease.

"What was that about captain...?"

"You know better than to ask lutenant"

"yessir.... I mean yes sir"

"Good" he paused "Find the higest ranking officer you can get would you?" he said this with his most disarming smile, sinserity and hope almost literally poured from him.

"Yes sir...errr sir" he paused " the password?"

"Ah" Claric said "A snag"
all his men jumped to action quietly taking down the guards as best the knew how, it was almost funny that the officers expression didn't change even when one of Clarics knives went through his throat, he was caught before he could fall and make a noise. His expression was one of pain confusion as he died.

Claric reallly hated war.

"Lugana" he whispered "Open the gates" he hoped that no one had heared the noise the had made, because no fight was that quiet.