>>5195181Moving on you started to recognize the more normal types. Most were battle damaged relics, some Eskarrian others were from across the world. The old and unrecognisable flags and icons littered them. Dimitri pointed out a few of the trophies he knew. The Black Hawk of Avalon, Gul of the Sun, Sir Sharif of Than. He spoke of the conflicts they had been salvaged from and their bloody last stands. But one stuck out to you. Burning into your mind's eye. Two crudely drawn words, the preserved paint somehow still clung to the twisted and bent chassis. You spoke, interrupting the boy's explanations. Raising a fist that shook before your index finger reached out and pointed towards the fragments.
<span class="mu-r">"Abhartach."</span> Your voice came out on a low flat growl, foreign and different to your normal tone. You seethed staring at the thing, molars grinding in rage.
"The Abhartach? I've never heard of it." You all head over towards the small plaque that displays information. It was attributed as an unknown conflict of the first year of imperial records. You cruelly smirk at that reveal, staring a whole into the fractured remains.
<span class="mu-r">"No one even remembers you bastard... Can you hear me in there?"</span> You spat, spittle flicking across the thin protective casing. You ignored the worried and strange looks from the others. Instead you waited. Expecting the footsteps of mice, cotton falling on snow. Anything. Praying for any sign that something of
<span class="mu-r">The Brute</span> remained, condemned there still. Nothing. No replay came. Relief flooded you leaving you standing there like an idiot. You were embarrassed. Pressing on you caught up with the others as they headed into the death of the 1st Order of Eskarrian Principalities and the birth of the 2nd Order of Eskarrian Principalities. The first year of the Eskarrian Empire, the reunification under the Crimson Empress.
A huge oil rendition of the First Crown Empress Yugasava Eeska Petoff Romanov took up an entire wall, on a throne of ivory and gold she sat. Kneeling and yet still towering over the woman with haughty features was a Phobos. Her hair was pale blonde with eyes as grey as the clouds of the hole. Her machine was an Emperor class Sabre type. You found yourself examining the massive art, it had been commissioned within the second year and took until the fourth to be finished by the Kuznetsov brothers. Allegedly they were conjoined twins until one brother slayed the other before succumbing to the same wound. Or so Alexander claimed. Well preserved pieces of history sat in orderly displays within the large hall. Early Phobos weaponry, you even spotted A seeker mine, seeing it up so close reminded you of just how small you were within a Phobos.
