Lord Democles Chronicles

Old campaign - Where the Druchii Net Online Campaign was discussed

Moderators: Underway, Jeffleong13, The Dread Knights

Locked
User avatar
Onyx paladin
Assassin
Posts: 533
Joined: Tue Nov 18, 2003 7:43 pm
Location: Tallahassee

Lord Democles Chronicles

Post by Onyx paladin »

Hope you all like the story. I first used Lord Democles during the SOC campaign. Since he did quite well, and lived, I think his story should continue. Please give feed back if you feel inclined. Creative critiques are used to help the story in future writings.

Lord Democles sat on a rock brooding. Much had transpired over the past seasons, and little of it to his advantage. He had come down, along with others of his special persuasion, to answer the call of her Dark Mistress in the Lustrian jungles. There, during the campaign, he had been assigned under the command of a Sorceress named Xaniphera. With his tactical knowledge, and her aptitude for both the dark sorceries and Slaaneshi magic, They had looted a temple and even managed to kill one of the dreaded Slaan. The slaughter had been horrific, and Democles’ blade sang its praises to Slaanesh and carved its artwork through the lizards of Lustria. Then, without hardly a word, Lady Xaniphera was called by her Dark Mistress back north. She took one of the other Annointed with her, much to Democles’ chagrin. He had actually begun to care for the beautiful sorceress, and memories of the steamy nights spent in her embrace caused him to sigh. With orders in hand, Democles marched the remnants of his regiment back towards the passes that led to the north. Harried the entire way by insidious skinks that peppered his barbarian slaves with poisoned darts, Democles left a veritable trail of dead marauders and warriors for the Lizards to follow north. As night fell, Democles would return the favor. He did not need to sleep, and he was by far the best hunter in this area. He left clusters of slaughtered skinks to keep his Marauder dead company.
As Democles debated whether to strangle or ravage Xaniphera when he next saw her, a courier ran up to the small boulder, saluting smartly and waiting to be acknowledged. When Democles finally did, the messenger relayed his report. “The scouts have confirmed your suspicions, Lord Democles. It was not just the Lizardfolk that interrupted our supply lines, but also Khainites. They seem to be preparing a fortification in the pass in order to block our escape.”
“How do my scouts know they aren’t preparing to block off Lizard pursuit once we pass through?” Democles queried.
“They found a number of Marauder and Chaos Warrior corpses around the fortification. It looks as if they lure in the forces as they retreat north, then open fire at them once they hit the open hills of the pass. Also, the jungles to either side are swarming with Lizardfolk. Druchii emissaries were spotted within their encampments.”
Democles nodded, beginning to think on how best to breach the pass and gain access to Druchii lands to contact Xaniphera or her Dark Majesty. The messenger continued to speak however.
“Also, my lord, there are reports that undead have landed ships near the land bridge and are attacking everything in sight. The is an expeditionary force heading towards are position even as we speak. Lady Carilae says we should flee...” the messenger stopped speaking, sensing the tenuous position his report put him in.
“Thinks we should flee!?!” Lord Democles bounded to his feet and grabbed the messenger by the throat. “She is an imbecile. Tell her... no, advise her that we are too close to evade them, and that we will engage them forthwith.” He released the messenger, not seeing the point in snapping the Druchii’s neck for someone else’s stupidity.
As the messenger fled, Democles began stalking back to the encampment. Carilae was the head sorceress now that Xaniphera had left. She tended to think that she could order Democles around. However, she was still a neophyte within the ranks of Slaaneshi’s favorites, and should it come to it, Democles was sure Slaanesh would not harbor him ill will if Democles decided to “amuse” himself with Carilae for a couple days. But first things first. Undead could not feel the joy of Slaanesh, and were considered despicable creatures meant to be wiped off of the lands. Democles would make sure this edict was followed tonight.
"Khaine only embraces death, while the Cult of Pleasure embraces life and all of its aspects. I often wonder how people have trouble choosing between the two."

~Lady Xaniphera, preistess of Slaanesh
User avatar
Onyx paladin
Assassin
Posts: 533
Joined: Tue Nov 18, 2003 7:43 pm
Location: Tallahassee

Post by Onyx paladin »

Part 2

Lord Democles scanned the forest for signs of the enemy. His Demonic Steed shuddered underneath him, wishing to be free to pursue the prey. Its tail whipped back and forth and its body writhed in ecstatic anticipation. Democles continued to hold a tight reign however, not wanting to launch the attack too early. While Undead were clumsy and oafish, certain types seemed to have a flair for destruction. His scouts had reported no vampire sightings, but the report of an ominous coach had Democles on guard. He would dispose of the horse and buggy himself, and its wight knight entourage if they decided to challenge him.

As the sun began its final descent, he saw the oafish forms of zombies straggling out of the jungle. Democles had chosen this site for battle well. It had been an old battlefield, from the beginnings of the campaign in Lustria. He knew that necromancers would be drawn to the deathly aura exuded from the area. His Repeater Bolt Throwers were set as well as his Crossbowmen for a deadly crossfire across the center of the field. The Devotees had performed their rites and were in a hedonistic fervor, and Lady Carilae had brought forth some Daemonettes to supplement his forces. The trap was set, and it with a flick of his wrist, Democles would set it off.

With the last rays of light illuminating the battlefield, Democles saw the undead host shamble from the treeline. Mostly zombies and tomb guard, he counted four necromancers among their number. This battle would be short and deadly. Off to the right flank, the coach emerged, shadowed by a host of dark knights. The coach pulled up close to the burial mounds erected for the more powerful and prestigious warriors. Sighting his quarry, Democles let his reins loose, allowing his powerful steed to shoot towards the burial mounds.

Upon his charge, his army took the initiative to begin their own onslaught. Bolts ripped through long dead flesh, and the Devoted charged forward, trying to keep up with the quickly bounding Cold One Knights. The response was quick, and the air seemed to thicken with the necromantic magics being incanted. Skeleton after skeleton rose, gathering up broken weapons and forming grim parodies of their original formations. Hardly pausing, the elite Cold Ones slammed into a unit of Grave Guard, sending carcass bits in every direction. Though the Dark Elven troops were quickly beginning to become outnumbered they closed ranks with fervor, splintering bones.

Democles reached the coach before it had a chance to react. Bringing his greatsword to bear, he chopped through the ceiling into the coach. As his mount bit at the driver, Democles reached in and flipped open the coffin, readying his sword to destroy the vampire. Inside the coffin lay a diminutive elven lass with her blond tresses languidly draped across her busom. Two bright red scars marred her porcelain neck, still puffy around the edges. Caught by surprise, Democles was almost broadsided by the Wight honor guard. Snarling from exertion, Democles whipped the coffin top like a discuss towards the pounding hooves of the nightmarish steeds. The temporary blockade was all the supernatural quick Annointed needed and he leapt from his steed towards the right flank of one the decaying chargers. Down came the sharp blade of his blade, severing the head from the horse with one stroke.

Democles did not stop once his feet touched the ground and continued into a roll with one shoulder tucked. Using his momentum he leapt high into the air, bringing his blade up with him. The blade sung through the air, not bothering to stop as it clove the second horseman into two pieces. The other horsemen surrounded him, stabbing at him with their deadly blades. One scratch could kill, and many a great fighter had not survived to tell of the pain that followed a wound from such a cursed blade. However, Democles had spent hundreds of years in the Wastes, fighting deadlier beasts than those before him. With the grace of a feather on a breeze Democles wove through the ancient warriors.

Scant minutes later, the last of the Honor Guard clattered to the ground, cloven into three pieces. Democles looked up to his army, aware of the valuable time they had gone without his command. The sight before him brought a satisfied grin to his face. At least one of the necromancers had gone down. The Grave Guard had been wholly slaughtered by the Devotees and Cold One Knights. Skeletons and zombies were wandering around aimlessly and the more intelligent undead fled into the jungle. Democles turned back to the coach to see his steed feasting contentedly on the driver and horses. He strode towards the coach, opening up the enameled black door and stepping up into the shattered coach. The coffin lay filled still, and Lord Democles crouched close to the still form within its confines. He stared unblinkingly at the treasure in front of him, the noisy victory of his minions fading into the back of his mind.
"Khaine only embraces death, while the Cult of Pleasure embraces life and all of its aspects. I often wonder how people have trouble choosing between the two."

~Lady Xaniphera, preistess of Slaanesh
User avatar
Onyx paladin
Assassin
Posts: 533
Joined: Tue Nov 18, 2003 7:43 pm
Location: Tallahassee

Post by Onyx paladin »

Democles was in a foul mood once again. While he enjoyed battle, the slow attrition of his troops worried him. If he couldn’t reestablish a steady soldier influx, his army could be in real trouble. The Marauders of the Hung tribe were hardly a presence in the camp anymore, due to the constant guerilla warfare of the skinks. Democles had set many traps, killing perhaps hundreds of the little creatures. Yet they continued to whittle away at his mercenaries. He had underestimated the tenacity of the Lizardmen, and had a growing respect for their fanaticism, if nothing else.

The elven woman captured during the destruction of the undead forward force was proving a mystery as well. Using careful treatments and herbs, Democles had been able to coax her away from the last plunge before death. Considering where they were taking her, Democles was sure she was to be interred in the burial mounds and left to rise as a vampire thrall. However, Democles had seen no sign of the girl’s captor, and suspected that perhaps the undead were taking a more cautious approach now. The girl was still recovering, but what had caught Democles’ attention was the fact that she was not High Elven. Her eyes and lilting accent had confirmed that. The Annointed had heard of a forest far to the East where a sect of elves still lived, killing all who entered their domain. As of yet though, she proved too sick and delusional from the drugs to get an adequate answer out of.

The Sorceress Carilae was trying to confiscate the Elven slave from him. She wished to perform some rite or another to banish her soul to some place or another, but Democles was not ready to give up the precious slave girl as of yet. Carilae was getting more and more adamant about being recognized as the real leader of the Cult army, and soon Democles knew they were going to butt heads. Democles hoped the day would come soon so her replacement would learn respect.

As Democles brooded, yet another annoying messenger ran up to him, saluting with precision. “M’Lord, one of our outposts has been attacked.” After Democles acknowledged him, he continued. “ Our northern outpost has fallen. They were able to fend off the scouting party, then pulled back as a larger force moved into engage.” Pulling out a list, the soldier went on,”Witch elves and executioners, with one bearing the mark of the brotherhood of shadows. Also, a Bolt Thrower of their own was awaiting on a nearby hill for crossfire along with some crossbowmen. Our sorceress there called up a chaos beast to hold off the executioners, and we cut down their witch elves with crossbow fire. We lost out devoted stationed there however, to much the same reason. They fell back after the sorceress gained control of the assassin and began killing them off with his skills. He was able to escape as well however, shrugging off the magics. They seemed a scouting party, and a larger force from the fort was evident as they withdrew.”

“Lets plan a little welcome party for them then, to wish our brothers from the north a proper reception similar to the one they have extended to us,” Democles’ eyes blazed with anger. “Tell the company commanders to set up ranks with plan number 4.” The soldier rushed off, scanning for the banners of the different companies.

* * * *
The battle hadn’t worked out as planned. Democles had not had to fight against elves of any type for centuries, and took the precision of his troops for granted against the slower Lizardmen and lumbering undead. Deploying a his long range troops on the left flank, hoping to create a fusillade. Unfortunately, the enemy deployed their Reaper Bol Throwers on the same flank. Though his own Bolt Throwers were eventually able to strip the artillery of their crew, damage had been down. Devoted and warriors alike like in rows, cut down by the deadly fire.

On the right flank, it had almost turned into a stand off. One that Democles could ill afford to have. Only the valiant stand of his spearmen to a Cold One charge allowed the deadly impasse to be broken. Carilae had actually shown some use, freezing the Cold Ones in place once engaged. That coupled with Democles similar tactic against some executioners had led to the breaking of the opponent’s spirit. Once ranks had been broken, Democles once again waded into the battle, cutting down foes from behind as they fled.

Having made known of his intent to take prisoners, Democles now stood in front of rows of chained Dark elves. Many of them still shown defiant. Thier captor broke into an evil smile. It was time to gain new recruits. Democles lifted up a gleaming draich to his shoulder, propping it there as he began to walk along the line of captives. A sign of the Executioners, and a beautiful weapon, Democles had gladly trading in his rusty chaos sword made by humans for the art in his hands now.

“Congratulations. You fought bravely against me and my troops. For that, you shall live. As an even greater prize, I will ‘ALLOW’ you to join my armies if you wish.” Democles took note of the Druchii that laughed derisively. “To show your loyalty, you will accept the brand of Slaanesh on your right cheek.” With a gesture, Democles pointed to a nearby fire, where the soldier attending it held up a glowing red brand. “If you do not wish to join, I understand and will let you free to go.”

Democles paused for a moment, looking over the prisoners with a sly gleam in his eyes. Many of them wore wary expressions, some puzzled. Others had the confident look of free men on their faces. Walking up to one of the more confident ones, he spoke to him,”Well, which choice will you take?”

“Let me free, and I’ll cut you down, Slaaneshi scum,” the elf replied, spitting at Democles.

Democles didn’t bother wiping the spittle off immediately. “I gave my word you would go free. Any of you are free to choose the same as he.” Democles made a wide gesture to encompass those around him. Seeing Mistress Carilae off to the side, Democles decided to drive his point home.

A surprised murmur was the response he got. Turning back to the rebellious soldier in front of him, Democles continued talking. “Of course, I can’t have you killing what troops I have left, so I will relieve you of these...” whipping the Draich down with one motion, then reversing it in lightning quick response, the Annointed clove both hands from the wide-eyed Druchii. As the prisoner opened his mouth to scream, Democles jammed his hand into the prisoner’s mouth, grabbing his tongue. With a brutal yank, the commander left his prisoner tongueless as well. “We can’t have you telling our enemies my troop strength as well, I’m sure you understand.” Making sure the other prisoners could hear him over the gurgling sounds of the mutilated prisoner, Democles pointed to one of his own men,”Cauterize his wounds, stick his displaced parts in a bag and attach it to his belt. Then let him out the north checkpoint.”

As his troops rushed to obey, Democles swung around and pointed to the next Druccii in line. “All right, you are next. CHOOSE!”
"Khaine only embraces death, while the Cult of Pleasure embraces life and all of its aspects. I often wonder how people have trouble choosing between the two."

~Lady Xaniphera, preistess of Slaanesh
User avatar
Onyx paladin
Assassin
Posts: 533
Joined: Tue Nov 18, 2003 7:43 pm
Location: Tallahassee

Post by Onyx paladin »

There wasn’t a hint of wind blowing as Democles surveyed the killing grounds in front of him. Two hundred yards of bare ground, littered with rotting corpses, lay between the tree line and the Druchii fort. Here are there, stakes or stumps shot up haphazardly into the air. Either way, there was no cover from the Reaper Bolt Throwers on each tower of the fort. The guards had a professional air about them, keeping continuous watch outwards as the paced the walls.

Democles would have preferred to build professional siege tools and taken the time to properly scout the area for miles around. However, even with the boon of new troops, he could not hope to outlast the Undead presence and the Lizardman guerilla warfare. The pass to Nagarroth lay beyond the fort, cleaving the mountains to either side. Beyond lay his destiny. Beyond lay Xaniphera, whom he would track until his death.

Snapping back to the endeavor at hand, Democles awaited the signal from his forces encircling the Druchii bastion. Towards the gate, he had positioned his remaining Chaos marauders with a log ram and a sorceress for support. Some of his Cold One Knights stood guard by them, awaiting a sally from the gates. To the west lay a unit of swordsmen with ladders, and a unit of Daemonettes with a Siege Tower. Democles lay in wait on the east side surrounded by Devoted with a Siege Tower to push. Scouts and Furies had been sent to the rear to try and sneak into the fort from the north.

With a low moaning sound, a horn sounded to the South, and the Marauders began their charge towards the front gate. Mistress Carilae could barely be picked out among their ranks, which made Democles smile. He was sure he could hear her waspish comments as she tried to goad the oafish humans towards the gate. With a slap to the side of the Siege Tower, he laid his shoulder it and began pushing along with his unit. The Siege Towers were not much in the way of ingenuity. Long planks were attached to an axle off of one of the old food trains. Hopefully, the planks would be long enough and sturdy enough to jam up against the wall and provide a ramp to run up into the crenelations.

Flurries of arrows began to pour from the battlements almost immediately. The commander had obviously trained his troops well. To his surprise, Democles saw a trained War Hydra sally forth from the gates towards the ram crew. Its heads whipped around excitedly at the prospect of food, and the apprentices guiding it prodded it towards the ram. With a burst of energy, three of the heads exploded in chaotic energy. Another bolt seared towards the hydra from the marauders, evidently from the Sorceress within their ranks. The magical bombardment kept the attention of the beastmasters, and it was too late by the time they noticed the Cold One Knights bearing down upon their flank. As the ram crew were engulfed in flames from the Hydra, the Knights barreled into its side.

Further sitings were blocked as Democles’ unit rounded the corner to make the final charge. Devoted fell all around him as the warriors on top of the wall focused on his unit. With a grunt of exertion gave the final push needed to lock the ramp into place, then charged up towards the top. He had made the calculations well, and had little trouble hurtling the wall. Bringing his sword to bear, the first warrior he encountered fell without a sound. With ease, Democles spun towards his next opponent, bringing his blade upwards towards the enemy’s pelvis. The odd sound of silence caused his blade to stop, inches from cleaving his victim in twain. As he looked around, Democles noticed the lack of fighting, his troops with blades drawn, and those of the besieged laying on the ground.

“We surrender,” Democles heard from a couple yards away. The voice belonged to a brown haired vixen wearing the marks of the Convents. Behind her stood an elegant looking Druchii, helmet in hand and wearing a wicked looking black enameled chest plate. Democles lowered his sword and motioned them closer, not bothering to sheath his weapon yet.

As they both approached, the male stepped in front of the Sorceress. “I am Commander K’learon. I am in charge of the post at this moment. With your permission, I offer you,” pulling his sword, the officer placed it in both hands and offering it towards Democles,”the unconditional surrender of my troops. I would hope that you would not slaughter us, and would be willing to trade information for our lives.”

* * * *

From what Commander K’learon informed him, a Hag Queen had been in charge of the fort until a couple days ago. However, she had taken her flock of Witches into the pass in order to conduct a ritual to Khaine. Upon hearing this, Democles quickly secured the castle and sent out a retrieval party. Carilae had led the expedition, and had met with resounding success. Using codes K’learon had released, Carilae had corrupted the guards and snuck her forces into the middle of the ritual. Many of the Witches were exhausted from the ordeal, and without the drugs they used before combat, Carilae was able to subjugate most of them before they could even arm themselves. The Hag Queen herself was gunned down, shot by over twenty arrows into her frail frame. Upon the triumphant return of Mistress Carilae, Democles formulated his plan and called all relevant people to his tent.

Mistress Carilae, Commander K’learon, his sorceress assistant, and three of the other commanders were soon present in his abode. Democles made sure none of Carilae’s apostles attended. As he surveyed the Druchii in front of him, his voice rumbled from his chest in a commanding tone. “We will be leaving tomorrow morning. I intend that we will leave a force here to keep the fort manned and the pass open for any other armies stranded to the south. But my goal is to the North, which is where I will press on to. Commander K’learon, your forces will be part of my vanguard. You seem a practical man, so I won’t bother branding you like I will your men. However, don’t consider crossing me until you are ready for your life to be at its end. Your sorceress will join the others and learn our ways. If you need an assistant, get someone else.”

K’learon nodded, looking at his assistant only a moment,”Yes, m’Lord. We stand ready upon your command. Eriam will report in the morning for her instructions.” Giving a cordial bow, K’learon took a step back to acknowledge Democles.

“Mistress Carilae, as acting General of these armies,”Democles noticed the slight rise of an eyebrow from K’learon, but continued,”you will stay here at the fort with the remainder of the Marauder forces. You will hold this area as long as possible for other Slaanesh forces to make it through and repel any advances by the Undead and Lizardman forces in the area. I will leave the Witches in your care to do with as you see fit.”

At that moment, Carilae lost her composure. She had the right to kill this imbecile in front of her and had heard enough of his insubordination that she was going to love destroying him. As she raised her hands to incant her first spell, she noticed the razor edge of Democles’ blade hovering infront of her nose. With a blink, her spell faltered and she froze in place. Only the slightest of shivers could be seen from her as she gazed up the blade towards Democles.

“Further more, I would recommend you relieve yourself of the position to “General” and pass it to the Commander of the forces you are sending north. I will do my best to guide them along the correct path, much as I have helped you. This can only lead to good things, don’t you agree?” Democles watched her with a predatory gaze.

“I... You would leave me alone with these brutes?” her eyes began to tear up as she realized the sentence being imposed upon her.

“Well, I would recommend breaking the hands of your Khaine-loving Witches. Then they should provide ample entertainment for your forces as long as you remember to feed and heal them from time to time. It should keep the moral up nicely.” Both Carilae and Eriam went pale as their minds adjusted to Democles’ way of thinking. “Perhaps you will be able to build a proper stone castle here, and become Mistress of the Southern Reaches.”

“I think you all have work to do in order for the army to be ready for march orders in the morning. I suggest you don’t delay.” With bows and one curtsy, the others responded to Democles’ suggestion. Carilae seemed carved from stone, still reeling from the sudden change in her status. “I’ll let you come, Carilae. But there would be conditions...,”Democles let the last statement hang in the air.

Drawn from her stupor, Carilae looked towards Democles, a mote of hope kindling in her eyes.

“You could join my entourage. I have need of more beautiful slaves. But you would have to wear a collar, clean my tent, things like that.”

With a slight quiver of her chin, Carilae fled the pavilion. The sounds of Democles’ dark laughter rang in her ears as she hurried to her new life of a Fort Commander.
"Khaine only embraces death, while the Cult of Pleasure embraces life and all of its aspects. I often wonder how people have trouble choosing between the two."

~Lady Xaniphera, preistess of Slaanesh
User avatar
Onyx paladin
Assassin
Posts: 533
Joined: Tue Nov 18, 2003 7:43 pm
Location: Tallahassee

Post by Onyx paladin »

Early the next morning, Democles waited patiently atop his steed as his forces gathered. The Drchii were efficient, breaking down camp within an hour. As they formed up ranks, Democles led his steed towards the forefront. He had spotted something in the sky.

As his keen eyes focused, the blotch grew larger, Democles made out the demonic form of a Fury. He thought it odd, seeing only one. They were a group-oriented creature, usually fleeing from any sizable threat, but vicious when attacking in flocks. Democles equated them with goblins in his mind.

The Fury continued to approach, eventually gliding towards Democles and flopping to the ground with a loud screech. It held out its arm in a piteous manner, showing that it had a message tied to its wrist. Democles motioned for one of his retainers to retrieve the scroll, and called upon a sorceress to take control of the Chaos Fury after the scroll was removed. Once his task was accomplished, the retainer approached, bowing low to Democles and holding out the tightly bound papers. Reaching forward, Democles took the scroll and opened it, reading the contents with a focused gaze.

~
Dearest Democles,

I have heard the news of your victories to the South. I am glad that you have brought my armies back to Nagaroth. There are many troubles, as I’m sure you are already aware of. Currently, I am stationed near the Southern reaches, by the Wrathgate of Arnheim. The Asur have attempted to build their own barrier to hold us at bay, and are continuing construction.

The Black Lotus under General Kala has a large presence in the area, and been gathering any nobles who would join her cause to drive back the Asur. I myself have joined her endeavor in order to aid in the glory of Slaanesh. However, as of late, I feel at odds with many of the people in my midst. Though I serve here loyally, I feel that others plot behind my back. Eutharion is worthless, being more involved in try to catch the eye of any woman that will have him.

I urge you to come post haste to the Wrathgate. With the support of you, I would once again feel safe. Seek out the 7th Division of the Black Lotus Brigade. Commander Rechavia is in charge here. Beware of the 5th Division, as they are controlled by a group of Khainite fanatics. They seem more worried about searching out heretics then in any cause here.

If anything befalls me before you arrive, search me out to the north. General Kala’s manor and castle are near the city of Nagaroth. Surely if all else fails, she will bluff my enemies into thinking me dead and take me with her to her sanctuary. If any large force confronts you, tell them you serve General Kala under her instructions. This should garner you safe passage for the most part.

I anxiously await you arrival, my dearest. Do not tarry long. I feel surrounded by shadows and blades.

Your love,

Xaniphera

~

“We go to the Wrathgate. Begin moving now,” Democles said is a soft voice as he looked towards the pass. K’learon, sitting on a horse to his right, raised his hand, then brought it down slowly, pointing forward. A single drum began its cadence, its sound multiplying as the other regimental musicians took it up. Soon the army was moving through the pass, a silver serpent slithering its way into Nagaroth.
"Khaine only embraces death, while the Cult of Pleasure embraces life and all of its aspects. I often wonder how people have trouble choosing between the two."

~Lady Xaniphera, preistess of Slaanesh
Locked