DOT
Dot
Midday.
They had been travelling since morning, but their pace meant they had to stop off at this watering hole to rest. Vigil was still a long way off.
Barrett Armstrong nursed a glass of liquor and his sorrows at the same time. No doubt other patrons of the bar had their own troubles to drown, but Barrett continued his own stupor nonetheless.
His traveling companion had disappeared when they arrived which didn't much trouble Barrett, for he had only known him a short time. Truthfully, the only thing known up to this point was that one was a good two feet taller than the other.
Dot.
Dot dot dot dash.
Gaurm returns to the common room having left his armor and most of his weapons in his room. He currently wears only his two daggers, each easily long enough to be a short sword for the average man.
Spotting Barrett is easy, and he flags down a serving girl as he makes his way over to the table. He settles into a chair beside the elf, as comfortable with the silence the elf seems to need as he is with talking. The Forgefather knows he has enough to be sad about.
When the serving girl passes by he orders some of the evening meal and a large tankard of ale, flipping a silver piece to her.
Barrett nods as Gaurm takes a seat. He chews on words for a bit before saying "Have you ever been to Belkzen, Gaurm?"
Gaurm nods his head, "Nope, not yet. I haven't been that far east yet. Do you know anything about it?"
"Only that it's lawless country. Things have changed a lot since I was last there; gotten more desperate. Orcs and all, y'know the type."
"Is that what this Bright Crusade is after? Bringing stability to the region."
"If it is they're doing a downright awful job of it. Lastwall hasn't been able to make any kind of definitive stand. For a while whatever line will hold but eventually they all fell to sheer numbers. Now their fortress line is about as good as a pile of dirt and sticks."
Gaurm takes a long pull from his ale, "I hope this works, Barrett. I am all for helping the Bright Crusade, but I swore to help you first." He pauses for a moment as if trying to find the words for what he is trying to say, "I guess, I just hope that helping the Bright Crusade does not come into conflict with our other task."
There is the general clamor within the Dirty Watering Hole as patrons converse back and forth, clang tankards or heckle each other over a game of cards, and within this noise a distinct POP! chimes out as a man appears infront of the doors (the doors never actually opened). After a quick look around he spots a likely client and approaches him.
Hey there. You got a partner? No! I'm not asking that! Rather I was wondering if she might like a bit of fine jewelry, I have on offer here.
As the man produces a handful of gems from within his yellow robes, the other patron sitting down waves him off and goes back to drinking.
With a sigh the man in yellow robes disappears with another POP! only to reappear on a stool next to a rather large man and an elf.
No, its not stolen! Trade is pretty difficult here in this town. Hey Barkeep! What do you make of this? he asks, procuring a fine cream colored scroll.
I've been wanting to join the Bright Crusade. Any idea on how to do it?
Memories of a particular pixie he had met at one point come back to Barrett but he quickly shakes them away before they can trouble him further.
"You'll want to go to Lastwall, then. Speak with the crusaders there."
"They must really be in trouble over there - they've even pulled troops out of Kenabres." Sabah said, as she hesitantly approached. "Can I sit?"
Gaurm slides the dagger back into its sheath the handswidth he had drawn it, and scowls at the flamboyant yellow gnomish creature. Before he can respond a human approaches the table, something about the way she moves reminding Gaurm of his own time learning from Jayre.
Gaurm scowls at the yellowish gnome again and his voice is very deep when he speaks, "This," he says gesturing toward Sabah, "is how one approaches strangers to begin friendly conversation."
He smiles at the human woman. "Please feel free. I am Gaurm, this is Barrett," he says with a motion to the Elf beside him. With a motion towards Midioto, "And I have no idea who this person is." And turning his attention back to Sabah once again, "Kenabres. Is that not far to the north? Are you from there?"
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Sabah shakes her head no, smiling nervously at the man as she took a seat. "I'm from Katapesh, futher yet south than Kenabres is north; I've merely fought there. I am headed for Lastwall, like Barrett said." She nodded at the elven man, meeting his eyes.
"It is a pleasure to share table with you. I am Sabah Nur a'Maisadre, entirely at your service, Gaurm and Barrett."
Northerners found the full greetings and pleasantries she'd been drilled in from childhood cumbersome and awkward, she knew. Even after nearly ten years away, introducing herself this way still felt terribly rude. She supressed the urge to offer gifts and expound on the honor and virtues of her new acquantances, and instead continued their conversation.
"Have you heard more of what is happening over there? All I know for sure is that there is some significant trouble, and that they've called for aid."
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Gaurm's eyes crinkled in the corners, recognizing the remnants of a Katapeshi accent in her voice. He bows in his chair from the waist, with his right hand placed over his heart, "I thought there was something familiar about how you speak. Though not originally from Katapesh, I lived there for some time. I have not heard the sounds of Katapesh in anyone's voice in many years."
A tall man walks through the door, with a crystal bow slung over his shoulder. He is tanned and his dark hair seems to sparkle in the wind, even though there is no breeze in the room. His eyes shine and his skin sparkles as if embedded with tiny gems. He looks to the table with others gathering, "Did I hear you say you were heading to Lastwall? I'm heading that way myself to join their cause. May I join you?" He points to an empty chair.
Hi. The name is Midiotoziggeroto. Sure you can join us. Midioto gives a knowing look to Joshua. You guys are heading for the Crusade as well? I cant seem to make heads or tails out of this map...
he then shows the group the fine scroll he has in his hands.
It should be around here... OH! I just realized! Ma'am, I have a few sapphires here that would make your eyes just sparkle! Would you be interested?
.
.
.
Where are you heading from there, man with such intriguing crystal? he asks Joshua. Midioto seems to be quite intrigued with him.
Joshua nods to Midito and sits down. "I'm planing on joining up in their crusade against the orcs, so where I go will be up to them. How about yourselves?"
The door opens and closes to allow four road-beaten travellers to enter. They wear grey military tunics and thick white cloaks, with the insignia of a houe with chicken feet surrounded by three blue stars. They leave their coats by the door and head to the bar for rooms and mead. The leader keeps her coat, a wolf's hide with the head stuffed as a hood. Her face is marked by a hefty scar taking away most of her chin, her head bald except for a single long white ponytail down to her waist. She looks suspiciously around the rest of the tavern before finding a table with her men; they alternate between energetic taliing and energy-less resting back in their chairs.
Finally you have made it. The shining spires and white walls of Vigil tower before you. The road leading to the gate encircles the city and breaches at the south. Along the road is a large encampment. Horses are on tack lines, the smell of camp cooking and unwashed bodies is in the air. Men call out and the sound of pounding smith hammers and billowing forges fill the late morning air.
Most of the men outside the walls appear to be mercenaries come to help the crusade. Most do not look knights, but toughs, mean scarred men and women who fight for coin. One could easily tell the military from the mercenary, tent neatness, uniforms, personal hygiene. The mercenary bands tended to drink even during the day and sat around pawing at each other and playing cards. The crusaders are better kept, in clean but worn armor, they are quite, even somber.
Approaching the gate, one of the massive iron banded doors is shut and the other is open, allowing horse and rider two abreast to enter or depart. In the city, the din grows louder. The wails and moans of the wounded drown out the hoofbeat of your horses. Blood runs in the street and clerics and medics roam the swaths of soldiers lying in the streets. Every home has become a makeshift hospital. The store fronts are locked tight, their owners among the wounded or those helping. The inns appear open, but the extra sheets are all in use.
A burly man in a leather jerkin eyes your strange little group. Particularly looking up at Gaurm. He spits on the ground in front of him, tobacco based on the quantity and smell. ”Merc troupe eh?” he half states half asks. ”What’r yer names?” he looks at you with a squint, his face is gnarled and his beard graying.
Having learned long ago that people hate to be loomed over, Gaurm would normally dismount to speak to the man, but given his rudeness Gaurm prefers to remain where he is, "I am Gaurm, this is Barrett, Sabah, Joshua, and Midiotoziggeroto. And what is your name?"
The man scratches his beard and eyes the group again. Again he spits. "What a f&^%ing mouthful, the lots of youse." he thumbs a larger than reasonable pinch of tobacco under his tongue. "I'm in charge of organiz'n these rabid whoresons and cutthroats. They call me Cap'n DeFrayne, on a'count that I had a ship in me heyday, not cause of no military rank." he fishes a parchment out of his pack and hands Gaurm a piece of lead. "Write yer names on the sheet big guy, an ol' cap will get ya sorted."
Gaurm writes the names on the parchment and hands it back to the man without comment.
After a minute or two, another small troupe arrives- those three same soldiers from the days' travel before. The ponytailed leader steps forward "Sergeant Elo Parvanovitch and Corporals Petrovitch and Constantovitchikin from the Irrisen Winter Guard, here volunteer." The two soldiers salute, the leader just stands at attention, then reaches for the parchment.
Barrett hesitates in Gaurm writing his name. He didn't want it getting out that he was around, in case anyone was keeping an eye out. He ultimately elects to say nothing about it.
Gaurm looks at the white haired soldier for a moment before handing her the parchment and the piece of lead.
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Captain DeFrayne eyes the white haired Irrisen woman. "'Nother mouthful of a name! Then again, I always like a woman with a mouthful." he bursts out in a wheezing cackle that ends with him violently coughing for about thirty seconds.
"Pay no mind to the Cap'n darlin, hard to shake t' pirate senso humor among the stiffs on land. Eye' mark ye under foreign military, ye's with us mercs. Come ye o'er and wait a blasted minute."
The mercenaries around you, while still tough, look better armed and more experienced than their counterparts outside the wall. You put two and two together, the commanders and their lieutenants.
DeFrayne pulls a wooden box to the middle of the street and stands on it.
Clearing his throat and spitting he speaks up. "Al'rite ye honorable gents. OH! and ladies,' he says looking at Elo and maybe the two other women mercenaries present. He looks at another sheet of parchment. Orders are as such! There be a load of new warlords out in the sh*t rall'n the Orcs and other baddies! Brass don't know too much 'bout these'uns, but they be mean enough to bring the Orcs to boot. Ar' bush boys be think'n that they'r' four of them at least, prolly all reporting to a fifth one what they don't know. The hon'rable state o' Lastwall is offering fifty pieces 'o shining platinum for each of the boss heads and a hunrd' for the king baddie of the warlord. Now! get yer filthy carcass' out they'r and make some booty!" he shouts and jumps down from the box, nearly falling face first into the dirt of the road, he takes a pull from a flask that you doubt contains water.
"You new folks.' he says to the group of newcomers, 'These blokes have had a good week if not more to daly, there be and inn or two still open, and shops pertay'nn to war still run'n, if you needs a nights rest and meal or to supply." with that he joins a group of men who are obviously pirates, they look strange with no shoes, and cutlasses.
Joshua looks around at those left, "I'm supplied as best I can be for now, I think, other than maybe some more rations depending on how long we will be out. A good nights rest sounds good after our travels and we can head out in the morning. Does that sound good?"
Staring a moment implacably at the Captain, Elo turns and sizes up the man with the crystal longbow. "I knew the crusades were informal, but... is this how we are to be assigned? According to arrival time?" She hesitates then shrugs. "...best to make do." She comes to attention. "My men will find work elsewhere in the camp; they have little combat experience and are best used elsewhere. I would join you, after a night's rest from the road."
"We're not crusaders, ma'am. We're mercenaries." says Barrett as he turns to find his own place to camp. "We've got warlords to hunt so best get your affairs in order; time's a'wastin'."
If there's a chance after he's arranged his living situation Barrett will start putting down roots, hoping to scoop up any tidbits on Eddy.
Almost as an afterthought, he also tries to nail down a more cohesive explanation of the Orcs.
Gaurm nods without speaking to the crass, rude, and disreputable person who was supposedly in charge. He listens to Joshua, replying when the man is finished, "That is acceptable. I could use some rest before we depart. Shall we meet here in the morning then?"
Staring a moment implacably at the Captain, Elo turns and sizes up the man with the crystal longbow. "I knew the crusades were informal, but... is this how we are to be assigned? According to arrival time?" She hesitates then shrugs. "...best to make do." She comes to attention. "My men will find work elsewhere in the camp; they have little combat experience and are best used elsewhere. I would join you, after a night's rest from the road."
Gaurm notes the woman's distaste of the "captain", a fact which raises his newly forming opinion of her considerably. While she speaks he watches her, appraising her combat potential. When she finishes, he pauses for a moment before speaking, "I have no objection, but I cannot speak for the others."
Spending the night in an Inn with somber patrons who likely spent the day tending to the wounded. Ale and food is had all around and the rooms are sparse but the beds comfortable and warm.
Spending several hours walking among the mercenary camps outside the city, Barret find that many have no idea of who Eddy is. Some of the rougher looking ones however tend to be pretty tightlipped but imply that they may have seen or traveled with the raiders before they up and disappeared into hostile country in the middle of the night some four weeks past.
Elo's men are put to work right away tending wounded and cleaning bandages, gathering firewood and the other endless mundane tasks that needed bodies and hands.
Passing the night and gathering any supplies that you would need, the group sets out early morning the next day. Heading north to the front line is a day's travel. The road is dark with dried blood and every hour or so a cart drawn by former warhorse rattles by filled and often driven by wounded crusaders, their eyes downcast and many unconscious or dead from their wounds.
Barrett walks along in a foul mood, wearing his hat low. The sight of so much wanton destruction and death brought memories to the surface, both of his family and of his days as a raider.
Idly he checks his pistol again and considers that he may be slipping away from the peaceful man he had been. He clenches the jaw at the thought, suddenly unsure of what he is doing.
Still apprehensive he slides the pistol back into its holster, satisfied with its condition at the very least.
Gaurm rides quietly. Though he usually finds it easy to talk, this is his first experience seeing the butcher's bill for a war, and the sight seems to have damped his friendly attitude. Periodically he eases his weapons in their holders, as if to ensure that they are easily freed for use.
As they get closer to the front, Gaurm starts to range a little further out from the group, acting as a mounted scout.
Joshua travels along bow in hand, seemingly ready for something to jump out and confront them at any moment. He occasionally chuckles, or nods or frowns as they pass different places on the road as if remembering events past.
Upon seeing Gaurm range farther forward he yells out, "Don't get too far ahead or I can't cover you with my bow."
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Elo nods in approval at each cart; their bandages seem fresh, with a small flask of water to share on the short ride. More than many could hope for.
Keeping to the middle of the group, she focuses her mind on an old marching song, focusing on the coming fights.
Got a letter in the mail,
Go to war or go to jail,
Got a letter in the ma-a-a-ail
In the early morning rain
After half a day's trek. You reach the actual "wall" of Lastwall. Crusaders are encamped there. Squadrons of archers patrol the parapets. Forges sound and horse's stomp and winny.
The crusaders oft ignore you as you walk through the camp. Many of them are injured, but not enough to abandon the fight. Scattered about are broken shields and armor, sword snapped in twain. The wall here is twenty feet high and six feet thick with a small mound of dirt on the north side facing into Belkzan, in the mound are giant spikes made from entire trees, sharpened into points.
A kindly old veteran speaks up after swallowing a mouthful of stew. "Hey there. New arrivals go straight to the Precentor, she's up in the command tent." He gestures further into the camp near the base of the wall.
Joshua looks around and says to the group, "Let's go see this Precentor. The quicker we check in the quicker we can get outta this place. This place is depressing."
Joshua sighs and shakes his head and heads in the direction indicated.
Gaurm nods to the veteran, "Thank you." Then turns his horse to follow Joshua.
Elo maintains her mildly good mood- all around her are the signs of will as yet unbroken, of great works done. She agrees with heading to the command tent.
Barrett will prefer to let one of the professional soldiers, Joshua or Elo by the looks of it, take the lead when meeting the Precentor.
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As the group gets to the wall, Midioto decides that he wants to get a better look around, so he hands the reigns of his horse over to one of the other members as he begins to concentrate. A moment later he begins to float off of his mount and float into the air, higher and higher.
Once he is a good few dozen feet off of the ground he looks around once more.
Satisfied, he winks out of existence with a POP! and reappears in the saddle of his horse.
It looks grim. From what I could see, most of the camp looks like this area, broken and battered. I did see some HUGE spikes tho, those looked interesting!
At that point an old war soldier comes up to the group and instructs them to visit the Precentor.
Yes Sir! I agree Joshua, lets go quickly and see her. I wonder what our first orders will be? Man, it sounds so exciting!
Midioto is clearly excited that he actually managed to get to Lastwall! or at least a part of it...
At the base of the wooden stairs leading up the rampart, there is an iron ring attached to a wooden post in the ground for tethering horses. Once ascended, the stairs lead to a series of gangways and catwalks running between wooden platforms on this side of the wall. The floor level of these is about half the height of the wall, 15ft off the ground. Approaching the command tent, which is open to the air, the guards eye you suspiciously but don’t move to stop you.
Inside are several armored men and a red haired woman in a form hugging green dress that brings out her eyes. They are amid conversation when she holds up a hand, interrupting the man speaking. ”Mercenaries? Come in, who are you.?
Elo comes to attention. "Volunteer crusaders. Sergeant Elo." She introduces the rest. "Where do you want us, ma'am?"
Joshua looks at the others and takes a step forward.
"My name is Joshua Jericho. Captain DeFrayne sent us up here after signing us up. He mentioned there were some warlords that needed taken out and thought we could help with that, ma'am."
Gaurm ducks as he enters the tent, then stands and waits for the woman's response.