Post by: mixafix on November 26, 2009, 09:33:15 AM
Post by: Script Wrecked on November 26, 2009, 10:32:44 AM
Post by: Dezza on November 27, 2009, 02:50:13 AM
Post by: Script Wrecked on December 07, 2009, 06:22:56 AM
Post by: Script Wrecked on December 11, 2009, 07:52:29 AM
Post by: Script Wrecked on January 08, 2010, 01:20:02 AM
Post by: mixafix on January 08, 2010, 08:46:09 AM
A party of volunteers and a strong detachment of Rael regulars worked well together due to the presence there of a number of well known law abiding citizens held in general good esteem by the forces of Rael.
They tracked the brigands to their remote outpost and laid seige. The matter was resolved by some covert action all under the able command of Captain Hesipate. Both released politicians were rushed to Lor where they made a short public proclomation as to their well being....and this bard's ears are still smarting.
One unfortunate incident occurred however when one of the would be rescuers was apprehended under Article 31 and later jailed at Lor for attempting to bribe a Rael official. His name was presented as Alias Weeman, an elf of little or no repute.
Post by: Script Wrecked on January 11, 2010, 03:18:02 AM
She makes it clear that this will not be an cushy job, where they can doss (http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/doss) off secure at the top of some stone tower. Nor will they be left to idle away their time, neglected until some moment of crisis. She explains that they are expected to show the vigilance of any soldier, and to that end, she is willing to train them in arms and the discipline required to hold a small fortress until help can reach them.
Post by: Script Wrecked on January 11, 2010, 11:07:14 PM
Post by: akata on January 14, 2010, 03:35:37 PM
*Posted in Lor and the surrounding area's*
The orcs along the Trembling Creek are gathering in force, and the diet of Lor is looking for people skilled in Tracking, scouting and spying in order to figure out what the brutes are up to.
If you possess any of these skills and are willing aid Lor then please be at the docks on this (http:// http://forums.layonara.com/calendar.php?do=getinfo&e=15492&day=2010-1-15&c=3) date
*signed*
Angela Swann
*stamped with a crest of a tiger battling its own shadow. The tiger itself is not covered in the usual kind of stripes, but with clearly visable lightning bolts.*
[size=+2]Trackers and Scouts wanted
[/size][/color]The orcs along the Trembling Creek are gathering in force, and the diet of Lor is looking for people skilled in Tracking, scouting and spying in order to figure out what the brutes are up to.
If you possess any of these skills and are willing aid Lor then please be at the docks on this (http:// http://forums.layonara.com/calendar.php?do=getinfo&e=15492&day=2010-1-15&c=3) date
*signed*
Angela Swann
*stamped with a crest of a tiger battling its own shadow. The tiger itself is not covered in the usual kind of stripes, but with clearly visable lightning bolts.*
Post by: Script Wrecked on January 15, 2010, 07:55:18 AM
Post by: mixafix on January 15, 2010, 11:22:31 AM
The first Army of Lor will shortly raise a Standard and open for full time recruitment. The Army will serve in the defence of Lor under local commanders and fall under the overall command of Rael Southern Army which will now move north to be based at Mask.
Meanwhile the newly created Lor Navy now boasting three ships will share facilities with the Rael south fleet at Lor. The Lor Navy will be responsible for local defence at sea and for coastal patrols.
In other news a short term contract for military transport in the Lor area was suddenly cancelled amid some concerns about missing supplies and poor service. The company concerned Eeman Ltd were unanavailable for comment and their offices appeared empty.
The contract has been transferred to other reputable Lor traders with solid political connections.
Post by: Script Wrecked on January 22, 2010, 02:20:10 AM
Post by: Script Wrecked on January 31, 2010, 04:16:21 AM
Post by: mixafix on January 31, 2010, 04:33:04 AM
Post by: Script Wrecked on January 31, 2010, 08:54:19 PM
Post by: mixafix on February 09, 2010, 04:55:37 AM
In light of this new found cross border cooperation the Rael Navy at Lor held a small cheese and ale afternoon party aboard their latest ship and invited the entire company of foot. Things apparently went swimmingly.
Post by: Script Wrecked on February 09, 2010, 07:39:24 AM
Post by: akata on February 11, 2010, 08:11:51 AM
Finding their form to be below her expectations, they're sent to train with the new recruits.
Post by: mixafix on February 17, 2010, 06:59:07 AM
Post by: mixafix on February 21, 2010, 08:42:53 AM
With an election pending Jular Jensen took this opportunity to stand down from the Diet of Lor also. She cited spending more time with her family as a reason. This means two seats on the council are available and electioneering started almost immediately.
It is suspected that strong bids will be mounted by their respective trading power bases to maintain a certain status quo. What other factions may strive to gain these so called 'Pro Rael' seats remains uncertain.
Post by: mixafix on February 22, 2010, 05:04:39 AM
I wanna be elected
I'm your Lorite lovely in a gold plated cart
I wanna be elected
Candidates have presented themselves for election at Lor as follows
Footstomp Fillipe, son of the late position holder Forni - he stands for continuity and represents halfling trading houses in Lor and Rael and supports integration into Rael.
Feh, a well travelled and often absent adventurer and supporter of a local charity house, who has yet to say what he represents as he has been predicatably absent from Lor.
Frel Flinthope, who is local landed gentry, and stands representing the smaller trader, with a strong charitable and liberal background. Frel has placed his elegant and refined foot in the pro independent camp.
Jak Jermingar part of the Jular Arms trading group who would have that group move away from the Rael connection and make more of the increased domestic market brought on by the expanded Lor army and watch tower system.
More news as it occurs courtesy of Nus the Bard
Post by: Script Wrecked on February 22, 2010, 09:23:02 PM
(Unless one of the leaders of the dwarven communities is really enthusiastic about pursuing this) she mentions that the boat may have already left the harbor on this (though she probably got a few frowns from using such a human expression), but that they should gird themselves for when the elections next come around (whenever that may be).
To this end, she proposes that each of the dwarven communities think about from who amongst themselves they would like to represent them on an (informal) council of all the dwarven communities of southern Dregar. This council would then submit a candidate for the next elections to the Diet (who may or may not be a representative on the dwarven council).
Post by: mixafix on February 23, 2010, 03:44:27 AM
Post by: Verideth on February 23, 2010, 05:28:33 PM
Post by: willhoff on February 23, 2010, 09:20:36 PM
Post by: Hellblazer on February 24, 2010, 01:55:27 AM
Post by: willhoff on February 24, 2010, 04:25:32 PM
Post by: Script Wrecked on February 25, 2010, 08:10:27 AM
After a few ales, Argali and the recruits ambush the newly appointed Marshal of Lor and whisk her away for a night of revelry and celebration. Its possible at least one serving member of the Diet was also caught up in the festivities, along with several others who took part in the hustings earlier that day.
Post by: akata on February 25, 2010, 01:34:34 PM
Quote from: Script Wrecked
After a day (http://forums.layonara.com/calendar.php?do=getinfo&e=16012&day=2010-2-25&c=3) caught up in the electioneering for the Diet, Argali spends time carousing with the off-duty Beacon Tower recruits who are being rotated through Lor to bolster the depleted [POST=1567782]townsguard[/POST].
The new rotation system seems to work, crime rate is dropping and people can once again travel the streets without having to worry about their purse
Post by: mixafix on March 02, 2010, 05:17:42 AM
Jak Jermingar part of the Jular Arms trading group who would have that group move away from the Rael connection and make more of the increased domestic market brought on by the expanded Lor army and watch tower system sneaked in past the more liberal Frel.
was well received by city and the so called adventuring fraternity.
Ogrefeller Orebasher, a well respected no nonsense ore trader of Lor won on the essentially not insubstantial Dwarven ticket
and during a recent pre election rally was also supported by the Gnome vote, and both Angela Swann and Argali Trueaxe.
In other city news Inquisitor Sonwat announced his retiral and has already moved away from the City.
The Twin Mayors made a brief declaration regards the new military set up.
Marshal Sasha Tomyris has been appointed commander of ther army and all Lor forces outside the City walls.
Diet member Angela Swann retains command of overall security within the town walls of Lor.
Post by: mixafix on March 03, 2010, 07:14:03 AM
Meanwhile within the confines of Lor City itself security remained positive and the ever vigilant Diet Angela Swann continued with a relentless series of snap inspections and direct intervention to keep criminals soundly on the back foot.
In other news there was a slight increase in trade reported, and one of the former Diet applicants Feherial was offered a job in the civil service in the office of civic improvement.
Post by: Script Wrecked on March 09, 2010, 06:15:12 AM
With the successful election of the dwarven candidate, she urges the communities to again think about from who amongst their ranks they would like to represent them at an informal council of the dwarven communities of southern Dregar. They would then be able to engage the Diet representative with their issues and ideas and efforts for improving the lot of kin and countrymen alike across the fair land they inhabit.
She raises her own idea amongst each community she visits, of regular cadet training sessions for those that would aspire to serve in the Beacon Tower garrisons. Not only would it prepare potential aspirants for the rigors of a martial life, but on a wider basis, it would be aimed at instilling a sense of discipline and honour into the youth of these communities.
Post by: mixafix on March 12, 2010, 11:54:42 AM
Post by: Script Wrecked on March 16, 2010, 10:18:29 AM
Post by: mixafix on March 21, 2010, 06:44:12 PM
Post by: Dezza on March 22, 2010, 03:59:40 AM
Post by: mixafix on March 26, 2010, 04:19:02 PM
Post by: Script Wrecked on April 02, 2010, 12:34:05 AM
Soon enough, she has them in a line, standing straight, eyes forward. However, trying to march them up and down the hall in a coordinated manner proves to be something... that will have to be learnt over several, perhaps many, sessions. She then puts them through a series of physical exercises, some simple, some challenging, demanding of strength, coordination or stamina. Finally, she finishes off the session with the cadets gathered around for the tale of the Galeright twins.
(1) not necessarily an actual fourth of Lor
Post by: Script Wrecked on April 15, 2010, 07:09:02 PM
If any ask for direction about what sort of person should would make a good representative for the dwarven council, shes smiles and probably flushes slightly. None-the-less, she lends an outsider's eye and makes her observations of the kin she has seen and meet during her various visits, pointing out characteristics that may have been unnoticed or taken for granted or simply overlooked by those living together on a day to day basis.
On those occasions she stays more than a day or so, she runs a session of cadets for the youth (and perhaps some not so young) of the community, to give them a taste and maybe whet their appetites for more.
On each night before leaving the next morning, she gives a rendition of the battle in the mountains of Brech of Kothac Lightbringer against the undead giants and how he came to be interred in the hall of Brenuth that becomes more rousing and poignant with each telling.
Post by: Dezza on April 19, 2010, 04:39:16 AM
For he entire day carriages rolled in and out of the estate as Fenrir Thornaxe carried out business within. Witnesses speculate that it is to do with the new Academy that the Father of Mithril is intending to establish on the jungle ridden island where Stort is located.
Post by: Script Wrecked on April 22, 2010, 07:39:00 AM
"The few days ago, Lorr iz having the vizitorr... The vizitorr frrom the norrth."
She stares hard in the direction of a place too far away to be seen.
"He iz just walking in like he iz owning the town. And therre was the nothing we could be doing about it. No debt of blood orr honourr gave us the means to make the choice as to whetherr we arre allowing him in orr not. He just came.
"Zo it is with theirr arrmy. They could just walk in tomorrow, and all ourr lives would be changing foreverr. Everrything we arre having would be... zuddenly differrent. No longerr arre we frree to come and go as we arre pleazing. We would have the new... regime imposed upon us."
She turns to address the troop, looking directly to each one as she does.
"Zo, be thinking of zis when she iz asking a bit morre frrom you. A bit morre than you would norrmally be giving.
"Because you can be zurre, they will not ask you forr it,"
She makes a snatching motion that ends in a curled fist.
"... but take it."
Post by: Script Wrecked on April 23, 2010, 09:01:01 PM
After much time splashing in puddles and becoming quite soaked through, she ends up at the municipal offices. There, she [THREAD=271202]inquires[/THREAD] as to the existence and/or state of the sewers in Lor.
Post by: Script Wrecked on April 24, 2010, 12:30:26 PM
She soon learns how permeating and lingering the stench of the sewer is, even after leaving it. She tries various methods to free herself of it, each meeting with various degrees of success.
Post by: Script Wrecked on April 29, 2010, 10:19:02 AM
Later in the afternoon, they stop for the day. Lacking the particular wilderness skills of a ranger, Argali nonetheless instructs them in the basics of making an army camp. She instills in them the benefits of orderly making and breaking of camp, and has them do it several times before allowing them to fall out.
As dusk becomes evening, they sit about the fire after a simple but filling meal. Argali gives them a tale or two of some of the lesser adventures of the renown dwarven hero Rainstorff. As they turn in, she reminds them that there will be a roster of guard duty throughout the night.
Come morning, Argali rouses the cadets bright and early, though some take more rousing than others, and a few are down right recalcitrant. Nonetheless, she soon has them formed up in lines, running them through their basic drill. She reviews what they have been taught over the past season, asking particular cadets pertinent questions. She commends them for staying the course, for not everyone who started is still part of the troop, and some who were not there are the beginning are not here now.
To end, she presents each cadet with a neck kerchief of the same azure blue as the arms of Lor, to be worn at all future cadets sessions. She secures the kerchief about each cadet's neck with a finely woven metal wire ring.
Later that day, it is with no small pride that Beacon Tower Cadets, Lor Troop marches back in through the gates of Lor.
(1) in this instance, a deliberately vague measure of time
Post by: Script Wrecked on May 04, 2010, 09:17:26 AM
Post by: mixafix on May 05, 2010, 12:27:10 PM
Initial reports suggest many farms and wagons have been looted.
A more robust response is organised in Lor's name. However as the raiders have fled to Rael - the input of the Rael ambassador to Lor is sought.
The army sharpens it's swords, the Dwarves are the first to volunteer, seasoned campaigners they start to gather their goods ready -just in case.
Post by: Meadow Saffron on May 05, 2010, 05:09:59 PM
It would appear certain individuals of the lower layers of the city have taken a profound like to daylight. Reports tell of them wearing nothing more than bruises, filth and red marks that are believed to be the effects of poisoning. Some witnesses claim to have recognized a few of these individuals as thugs and pickpockets. The most consistent reports speak of how these individuals seem to have been completely broken, miserable and robbed of their pride[/FONT]
Post by: Script Wrecked on May 11, 2010, 08:26:42 AM
The Beacon Tower garrisons are given orders for extra vigilance, and are started on night time patrols.
In the meantime, a copper haired dwarven lass is seen about the docks of Lor, seeking out old sea dogs, former first mates, and retired ships captains amidst the dives and drinking establishments of the harbor front.
Post by: akata on May 11, 2010, 06:24:05 PM
Angela along with Alantha make their way to Marshall Sasha Tomyris' office to hand over the crates which contain gifts to the Army, the Navy, the Guards and the Beacon Tower garrisons, the items are to be distributed as Marshall Sasha sees fit.
Besides from the Great Seal of Lor each item carries the seal of their creator/benefactor, a tigress
battling its own shadow. The tiger itself is not covered in the usual kind of stripes,
but with clearly visible lightning bolts.
Items for donation to the Army/Navy/Guards of Lor:
35 Platinum Chain Shirts
35 Platinum Chain Mails
35 Platinum Half Plates
35 Platinum Full Plates
215 Platinum Helmets
20 Adamantium Helmets
28 Adamantium Shields
10 Emerald Rings of Bull Strength (1 Exceptional)
10 Emerald Rings of Cat's Grace
15 Diamond Rings of Bull Strength (1 Exceptional)
15 Diamond Rings of Cat's Grace (1 Exceptional)
15 Platinum Rings set with 3 Alexandrites
10 Ilsare's Fiery Eye
20 Yew Long Bows
5 Dorand's Brace
3 Gloves of Austerity
3 Bracers of the Sword Dancer
3 Gloves of Care
3 Athus' Touch
Post by: Script Wrecked on May 14, 2010, 06:48:33 AM
"Good morning, cadets! It iz the lovely day, no?"
She looks across each of the troop with a welcoming smile.
"Mmm... Ourr home, the city of Lor iz alzo the harbor. She iz zurrounded on the three zides by the sea. It iz zomething we would be foolish to be ignorring as parrt of ourr trraining. Zo, as she is announcing previously, the cadets arre having the opporrtunity to be learrning about the boat craft. Zis will be most useful in zuch a place, with all zis waterr about, no?" She gesticulates in the direction of the sea. Then her hand follows around to the other figure.
"Zis iz the Misterr James Standish. You will address him as the misterr, orr the zir. He will be making the inztruction of the boating."
A tall and lean man, dressed in a tailored jacket and pants of a military cut, steps forward and addresses the troop. He makes a brief introduction of himself, and begins by running through the various parts of the boat. As part of gaining familiarity, he soon has the troop scrubbing down the craft, cleaning off old barnacles, algae and other detritus. All the while, he points out the functionality of the vessel, and why things are so, perhaps with the occasional anecdote to illustrate his point.
After a good mornings' work with the boat back in the water, Argali addresses the troop once more.
"The boating sessions will be replacing the normal cadet training for the participants. She iz hoping all of you will be taking part at zome point. Initially, we are running the zingle class, zo those wishing to take parrt please be zteppng forrwarrd."
Several of the non-dwarven cadets volunteer without much ado or fuss. Argali casts an eye across the largely dwarven remainder.
"T'aint natural, ma'am."
A broad grin crosses Argali's face.
"No it iz not," she replies. "And yet, here we arre, living on the coast, by the sea. Zometimes, we must put azide our reluctances, take advantage of the opportunity as it presents itself, and embrrace zomething different."
A few more take somewhat hesitant steps forward.
"Very good!"
She signals to Standish, who has the volunteers climb aboard as he has instructed them earlier. Argali leads the rest of the troop pushing the boat out into the water, becoming quite drenched in the process.
With a wave to those onshore, Standish begins the first lesson.
Post by: RollinsCat on May 14, 2010, 11:49:13 AM
"Madam Trueaxe." James gave a short fifteen-degree bow to Argali and turned to the class, hands clasped loosely behind his back and posture ruler-straight. His black eyes roved over the men and women, most of them dwarves, and he resisted the impulse to slide his eyes shut while he listened to their emotional melody.
"Good morning Beacon Tower Cadets. As Madam Trueaxe has said, I am James Standish. I was born in West Gate and have spent a good portion of my life with the ocean beneath my feet." He paused to stroke his neatly trimmed black beard and mustache, forcing his hand behind his back after a moment. Thank you Minu...even if you won't kiss me until I shave.
"I will give you a brief history of myself. My parents were independent fishermen. They lived and died on the sea; I learned my boating and ship skills from them while still in diapers. After the sea took them I entered Corsain naval service. You won't find my records..." He smile was close-lipped and brief "...because I was too young to be accepted and so I was creative with my name and history in order to enlist. And while this may seem dishonest, it was an act of passionate patriotism for which I make no apologies." His crisp West Gate accent was steady and he let his eyes stop on each cadet.
"Now, retired, I am again James Standish. Madam Trueaxe has requested help training you and so I have volunteered. As my home island was once, long ago, a target ripe for taking, so Lor may someday be considered low-hanging fruit. I do not wish to see that happen. I trust that none of you do either. Therefore, let me introduce you to this, your first vessel."
He walked to the boat lying on the sand, running a sun-dark hand over the raised ridge. "This is her keel; the ribs of the boat connect here. The ribs are lapstraked and nailed." He touched the front of the boat where the wood angled in to a sharp point. "The bow." He walked to the squared-off other side. "The stern."
Argali handed him a bag which he took with another closed-lip smile. "You'll notice your vessel has acquired a number of opportunistic sea creatures and a coating of sea moss. She's made of oak. Very sturdy. But sea life can do damage over time. It will need to be removed." He laid out a series of chisels, each with a slight blunt to the beveled edged. "Be careful not to gouge the wood." The cadets shuffled forth and he saw to it that each held a chisel, touched the boat. That each one felt the wood under their fingers. He defined the parts, got in with them to demonstrate chiseling, scrubbed with them when the rough animal shells were gone. His close-fitting black jacket was soon soaked, but the hull was clean and he gave a short nod to Argali. He motioned for help to flip the boat, cleaning out debris from inside while Argali spoke once again.
After her cadets -- no, my class -- had volunteered, James waved them over to the shore and took a good look at each, pointing out pieces of armoring or items that had to be left on shore. A final appraisal of the group and he raised his voice again.
"When you enter the boat for the first time, it will not be as walking onto a wagon. We will practice the most difficult way first. Let's get her in the sea." Together the cadets slid the long rowboat into the ocean water, some shivering from the sudden cold. James maneuvered the boat stern out and pulled the bow just barely onto the sand, holding down one side. "You." He motioned for a younger dwarf with a quick finger flip. "Your name?"
"Rurik, sir." Sir. I could get used to that.
"Hold the other side of the bow, please." He turned his head to the cadets.
"Now, you will walk on to the boat from the shore. Bend at the knees and immediately use the gunwales or the seats to keep yourself balanced. Move down the center of the vessel and take a seat. The next one on board will take a seat immediately opposite his or her predecessor. We have seven volunteers and there are eight seats so the odd man will sit in the back left. Do not take up your oars until instructed. We will hold this as steady as we can for you." He nodded to the young dwarf opposite him whom he had already christened Smith in his mind for the dwarf's top-heavy musculature.
They climbed on, the boat rocking and more so because of their unsteady balance. James watched his class shift and try to remain centered while the wooden planks under their feet rose, tilted, and fell on gently splashing waves. He stroked his baby-soft beard again and took a long step to the bow seat, settling, while Smith -- Rurik, must remember that -- scrambled in.
"We've discussed the basics of the vessel; shape, depth, materials. What we could not discuss until right here, right now, is how you and the boat interact." His crisp baritone rolled across the placid water. From the looks on three of the faces, however, they may as well have been in a gale. The other cadets pushed the rowing boat into the waiting sea with "better you than I" grins and sloshed back to shore to watch. The boat slid fifteen or twenty feet on momentum and slowed, rocking.
"First." He stood, walking from front to back with knees slightly bent and a loose, springy gait. "You are used to standing on ground, which resists you. You are now standing over water. Water does not resist you; you must accommodate it. When you walk on a boat, or ship, keep your knees bent to absorb the motions." He looked at two of the dwarves whose upper bodies spoke of swung hammers or axes, Smith one of them.
"It is not so different from using a weapon. When you swing, do you not let the momentum of the swing start in your shoulders and end in your hips, with your torso as the fulcrum?" He waited; nods followed. "Here, then, your legs are your fulcrum. Let the motions beneath your feet be the swing, and your legs are the means to dissipate that energy up -- " He rocked the boat with his feet as the ocean was far too sleepy yet to give him the effect he wished " -- and through you." Four pairs of hands grasped the gunwales while he stood, rolling the boat side to side. "We will practice this in our next session. Our first lesson, however, will be over..." He scanned until a sandbar caught his eye, a wide beige shadow under the olive green water "...over there. Please take up your oars. You will hold the oars out. On the first count you will all dip. On the second count you will stroke the oar through the water. On the third count you will bring the oar out of the water. Follow the count. Focus on the count."
Wood scraped on metal as the oars were swiveled out, several banging together. Frustrated silence followed. He let the silence stretch a moment or two, listening, then his chin jerked up. "One." The oars were turned every which way; two of the humans and two of the dwarves had figured the correct positioning. He took a moment to point to them and like leaves in the wind oars were turned to match. He took a breath. "Two." Oars dipped, some for a mere second and others for the whole count. Still, the boat moved, although jerkily. "Three." All the oars came out of the water and were quickly adjusted to match. He gave them another tight smile. "Good. Again. One..."
They reached the sandbar after two minute's inexpert rowing and one lazy circle trying to get the rhythm back. The cadets gave him uneasy glances when he motioned for them to set the oars away and he walked to the stern to toss in the small anchor. He remained quiet, taking the eighth seat and removing his greaves and boots before speaking.
"There are many things that are important to boating. Balance. Rowing. But there is one thing that no one sitting in this boat can not know." He hopped over the side, cold water lapping mid-thigh as his feet sunk into the sand. "How many of you swim?"
Four hands rose and he motioned them in with him. Three pairs of dwarven eyes turned, striken, to his. His smile showed no teeth. "Did you think you were going to walk home if the boat capsizes?"
Seven cadets rowed to shore hours later, exhausted and wet. They exited the boat the way they got on, and James gave them a short bow. "I look forward to our next lesson. Practice your swimming. Those who could not tread water for the full time, you will have another opportunity next session."
Post by: LordCove on May 15, 2010, 10:44:11 AM
Quote from: akata
On a busy morning in Mai, the Maiden's Folly make port in Lor and before the gangway is fully lowered a figure leaps from the deck and gracefully lands on the docks quickly marching off to find an escort of guards.
Angela along with Alantha make their way to Marshall Sasha Tomyris' office to hand over the crates which contain gifts to the Army, the Navy, the Guards and the Beacon Tower garrisons, the items are to be distributed as Marshall Sasha sees fit.
Besides from the Great Seal of Lor each item carries the seal of their creator/benefactor, a tigress
battling its own shadow. The tiger itself is not covered in the usual kind of stripes,
but with clearly visible lightning bolts.
Items for donation to the Army/Navy/Guards of Lor:
35 Platinum Chain Shirts
35 Platinum Chain Mails
35 Platinum Half Plates
35 Platinum Full Plates
215 Platinum Helmets
20 Adamantium Helmets
28 Adamantium Shields
10 Emerald Rings of Bull Strength (1 Exceptional)
10 Emerald Rings of Cat's Grace
15 Diamond Rings of Bull Strength (1 Exceptional)
15 Diamond Rings of Cat's Grace (1 Exceptional)
15 Platinum Rings set with 3 Alexandrites
10 Ilsare's Fiery Eye
20 Yew Long Bows
5 Dorand's Brace
3 Gloves of Austerity
3 Bracers of the Sword Dancer
3 Gloves of Care
3 Athus' Touch
Items picked up... ready to be handed out.
Post by: RollinsCat on May 16, 2010, 02:14:15 PM
"Good morning. Please remove anything that will weigh you down and then put the boat in the surf." James Standish and a stout man on his right strolled to the cadets under skies pregnant with rain. Several looked skyward and back to him with a faint hope in their eyes. His voice carried crisply in the salt air. "Rain or shine, cadets."
With grumbles they began to drop tools, daggers; two had ore in their pockets. He favored them with a tight smile. "Mister Dainsson here has volunteered to keep watch over your items. I suggest we consider not bringing them at all next time. Canteens only."
The boat was shoved into the swells, and James's eyes fairly glowed at the rough chop. He dropped his own swords into the pile and entered the water with the now soaked cadets.
"This is the more common condition of the sea during the fall and early winter here. Lady Doom smiled on you last week." He took hold of the gunwale near the bow, and motioned one of the three human cadets; Gavin? Yes; to take the other side. "Our first time entering the boat, you only had to walk on. Now, we add waves and water."
"Sir?"
"Yes, Mister Rurik."
"Yer said last week that were the hardest way on the boat. This looks way harder."
He pondered that with a half smile -- Muse, got me! -- then nodded. "If I had told you it was the easiest, would you have come back?" A snort and some shared looks, and the muscled dwarf shook his head. "This is not as difficult as it looks but it will take coordination and communication. Pair off on either side. Everyone let go of the boat; only myself and Mister Gavin should be holding on."
The dwarves matched themselves by friendship or size while the humans stood opposite each other. James remained across from Gavin. "Here is what we will do. The first two -- that's us, Mister Gavin -- will demonstrate. I will get in first. I will let Mister Gavin know that I am planning on getting in; Mister Gavin will then hold his side of the boat to counterbalance me. Mister Gavin, I am entering the boat." James pushed himself up and tipped over the side. He tried to hold himself there a moment to demonstrate, his hips balanced in the gunwale, but his arms quivered and he turned it into a twist and landed with a thump between two seats, bruising his rear on the way. Stars and song, I hope they didn't see that.
"I will now remain opposite Mister Gavin, who is going to do the same." The man, not yet to his twenties by his smooth face and shining gold hair, started to push himself up. "AFTER he informs me of his intentions and I give my assent." Gavin let his arms go slack with a frown. "When Mister Gavin starts to enter the boat, it will tip toward him. I will then lean the opposite way, moving back to center as he comes in. Mister Gavin?"
"Yes Mister Standish."
"Are you ready?"
"Yes." A long pause, then -- "Er, I am entering the boat, Mister Standish." James nodded, leaning, and Gavin pushed up, holding himself like a gymnast on the edge of the boat before gracefully sliding in and turning to sit. Damned kids.
"Very good, Mister Gavin. Next." He watched as the pairs each tried the exercise and allowed himself a pleased expression when only one dwarf, with luck the one who could already swim, fell back in.
"Good. Very good. Now you see that it's calm, coordinated communication. The three C's of the sea." And thank you Daniel, for being my role model in that. They wonder why I spent so much time watching you?
"We will now practice moving on the boat, as promised." He demonstrated again, walking back and forth. "Keep your knees slightly bent; only slightly, enough that they can absorb the motion." It was harder today with the waves and he had to concentrate on keeping his balance. "You will take turns. This is called getting your sea legs. Once you have mastered walking in a small boat such as this, anything larger will seem easy." He gave Rurik a wry smile. "And that is the truth."
This didn't go nearly as well. Bruises were sustained from falling comrades; two dwarves and one of the humans fell into the cold sea and were mightily displeased when he calmly insisted they use their newly learned water entry technique to get back in the boat. Repeating the exercise, the rest eventually kept their balance -- but one human, Marcus, fell again and again. Teeth gritted, he kept trying. Eight painful landings later he stood, shoulders slumped but face angry, teetering to fall again as the waves had picked up. James pushed him to sit.
"Mister Marcus. It's possible you may not be suited for this." He tried to speak gently and maintain the accent and the baritone; tricky. Marcus looked away, over the ocean.
"I want ta help, Sir. I can't get inta the regular military account o' my ear so --"
James frowned. "What about your ear?"
"Oh, cain't hear from it much. Got stuck with a pitchfork when I were younger." The young man turned and pushed untidy brown hair aside; there was a scar that trailed across his cheek and into his right ear canal. James stroked his beard, and sighed.
"Mister Marcus. You have probably suffered an injury to the part of your ear that aids balance. Have you always been clumsy?"
"Yessir. Why I cain't do regular soldier, sir."
James resisted the impulse to twiddle his mustache and sat back on the violently rocking seat. "Mister Marcus, you will not, I'm afraid, get used to this. While your swimming is acceptable, your sea legs are not." The cadet's face seemed to slump inward, his heavy brows contracting. James reached for his neck, zipping a gold anchor charm back and forth. "However...can you use a drum?"
The young man cocked his head at the non-sequitur. "I kin beat out a tune, sure."
"Can you speak loudly and clearly? Speak as if you were giving instructions to the boat."
"Um -- okay...um...OARS UP!" His voice, raised to carry, was a strong, youthful tenor. "Row tha boat! Stop rowing! Um, turn tha boat! On my mark!" James nearly grinned, forcing it to a closed-lipped smile instead and motioned for Marcus to stop.
"Mister Marcus, you have just become our coxswain. You will sit in the back and make sure the rowers stay coordinated to the beat of your hands. You will call the commands to the rowers. You will be the only one who can see where we are going so I hope your eyes make up for that ear. You will be in charge of watching gear as well. You will stay with the boat. Your movements will be limited to entering, drumming, and exiting."
The young man's face lit up, and he scrambled to the stern on all fours. Shoving himself between the seventh and eighth seats, he began tapping on the wood in something that could charitably be called rhythmic.
James looked down at the muddy boat bottom, hands clenched. Don't help him. Don't correct him. For the Muse's sake don't drum along! Keep your hands off the wood, Tashe. He'll learn. He took a breath and looked up. "Oars out." A clatter of wood; one collision, quickly fixed. The oars turned mostly at angle to the water. "Mister Marcus, the beat -- ONE two THREE four." Marcus began to slap his hands on the weathered oak. "On the next beat -- oars up -- oars around! Dip! Up! Around! Dip! Roll your shoulders, let your legs and arms do the work..."
The boat moved, in fits and starts but then with a smoother motion, toward the sandbar. "Good." He tried to resist sounding chipper but wicked delight trickled into his voice anyway. "Are we ready to swim?"
Post by: RollinsCat on May 19, 2010, 08:56:47 PM
" 'e 's roit mad 'ere 'e tinks I'm marryin' 'er, 'e is. Dinna care 'o 'er fadder be."
"Make yer part of a good business, though, cousin -- and jess a bit high-spirited, she. Nice beard on her too, and -- " The speaker halted when his older cousin held up a hand. Music, singing, floated over the tall dune. A deep, warm tenor clashing with the cool morning air.
" 'oo the 'ell?" They started forward again, feet crunching on the gravelly sand.
"Who keeps this lowly third mate burning...what keeps me at the porthole yearning...whose song rings round me sharp and bright, her face a vision slowly turning?
A gaze like the ocean, a voice of the sea, her touch an untamed wave was the undoing of me...
The melody rips me up inside...an acid bath to my pride...humming it to myself over and again, a hymn, a penance, a love denied..."
The singing stopped, wind dissipating the notes to background warbles and the movement of animals. The dwarves crested the sand hill and looked up and down the beach. A fisherman on the aging dock; an older couple, farther up, picking shells; and Mister Standish sitting near the boat, long legs drawn up under his chin as he faced the waves. They slid down the sandy slope toward the water.
By the mist on his hair, pulled back as always into a neat ponytail, Standish been there a while. His head turned a tiny fraction as they walked up. "Mister Gloim. Mister Rurik."
" 'oy, were 'at 'o, soir?"
"Was that me what?" He gave the rough ocean a last look and stood.
"Singin' loik."
"Ah. I heard that as well -- sadly, no, I have neither the talent nor the time to learn." The dwarves shared a skeptical look around; the fisherman was moving to a less noisy dock, the beach around them otherwise deserted. Mister Standish shrugged. "Some romantic behind a dune, perhaps, composing songs to a lady?"
"Must be then, sir." Rurik shrugged as well and the dwarves set to cleaning the hull, James as always scrubbing with them. There was little small talk until the other cadets arrived.
"Good morning. Today we will work on rowing and turning. I hope you've been practicing your swimming." His tight lipped smile matched the slight dip in his thick black brows; a few cadets shared nervous grins. "Let's get her in the water."
"Soir, 'ow innit wer not used 'at dock yet?"
"Because that would be too easy, Mister Gloim. When you are rowing for a purpose, whether to move troops or sneak behind enemy lines or infiltrate a ship, there will not likely be a dock handy." A few of the students nodded and the dwarf grunted, as close to assent as he was likely to give. "Into the water. We will practice our method of entry from last week."
The exercise went smoother than last time, with James's clipped baritone talking them through the motions once again. Oars were taken up with something closer to precision. Marcus nestled in his chosen spot between seats seven and eight, tapping the beat on a small drum he'd brought and scanning ahead, and the long rowboat sliced across the chopping sea. James watched and listened, leaning back in the bow seat. Gloim and Rurik are powerhouses, good rhythm, good strokes. But those two... He focused on the two young dwarves in the middle, just ahead of the humans Gavin and Levi. They're letting Gloim and Rurik do the work, are they?
"Oars up." The oars were yanked from the water and up through the oarlocks. The boat continued to move on momentum, slowing to the waves' resistance. "Mister Yurli, switch places with Mister Rurik." The dwarf hesitated. And you know why, don't you. "A problem, Mister Yurli?"
"Nay, sir." The dwarf, hair and eyes as black as Standish's own, rose with compact grace and moved easily forward to switch places. Best balance on the boat, myself included. How do I get through to him?
James nodded once as Rurik stumbled but caught himself, landing in seat six with a thump and moving the oar out and ready. "Oars out. Row on Mister Marcus's beat." They gained momentum again, speeding along as the surf was left behind and the water grew deeper and darker. He gave himself a few minutes to watch them, listening to the Heartsong of the wild ocean and the timing of their oars.
"We will be turning around soon. I will describe the process. Keep rowing as I do." They gave him their attention and he smiled inwardly as their bodies moved forward and back on what might soon be instinct. "We are going to turn right. You are rowing facing away from your destination; remember what we discussed about starboard and port. Regardless of which side of your body is left and right, you -- " He pointed to the line to Marcus's right " -- are starboard side and you -- " To the rowers on Marcus's left -- "Are port side."
"Mister Marcus, you will begin learning coxswain commands now. To stop us, you will call 'hold water'. All rowers will then drag their oar blades flat against the water and the boat will stop. On your call. Rowers be ready." He nodded to Marcus who had kept the rowing beat even as James had been talking. The shaggy brown-haired youth tapped, counting to himself, then called out.
"Hold water!" Oars turned and the boat wound into a lazy spin. "HOLD WATER!" Marcus's bark caught the rowers by surprise and they put more back into holding the oars still. The boat shuddered to a stop, rocking gently. James gave Marcus a slow nod.
"Good. We will be doing a lot of that on the return trip. Now, to turn us, you will call 'hold port' or 'hold starboard'. The rowers on the side thus commanded will drag their oars in the water, while the rowers on the opposite side will lift their oars, and the boat will turn. Rowers, be listening for his command and obey it immediately or we may capsize. Begin rowing." He nodded to Marcus again.
Tap, tap, tap, tap -- "HOLD PORT!" The command rang over the deep green water and two of the three turned their oars; Gavin did not and neither did Yurli, starboard. The boat spun in a tight circle and began to tip. There was a moment's sheer panic - bodies flung themselves flat to check the tipping and James had to hold on to his seat, literally, but the rocking finally quelled and they settled at an angle to the beach.
"To your seats. Starboard oars only, straighten us out. Gentle strokes or we'll over correct." Yurli, Rurik and Levi tapped the water gingerly and the boat turned, shifting only a little too far. "Mister Marcus, the command for the rowers to prepare is 'ready to row'. When you are satisfied that they are in place, the command for them to begin is 'row'. On your call."
"READY TA ROW!" Thumps and creaks, the metallic whine of the oarlocks, and a moment's hush. "ROW!" Tap, tap, tap, tap...James allowed himself one smile, leaning forward with elbows on thighs and his chin resting on the steeple of his fingers.
"HOLD PORT!" The boat spun around with a shimmy. "READY TA ROW -- ROW!" Marcus was a few moments long for the course to be straight, but the boat did not tip. James smiled and nodded.
"Again." They gathered speed and Marcus, eyes forward, counted down to a number only he knew.
"HOLD STARBOARD!" They wobbled and only completed half the turn, Levi's oar half out of the water and Rurik turning his to stop the boat. Marcus let out a quiet sigh and sat straighter. "READY TA ROW -- ROW!."
"Again." His voice -- no, James's -- echoed strangely in his head. He half-listened to Marcus but something picked at him...that voice. Master Hyogo. He heard the clipped West Gate baritone as if he were sitting in the recital room, staring at his score and waiting for the inevitable command..."Again". Was that me speaking or Hyogo speaking in my head? 'Mister Reid. You will begin again. Three octave arpeggio, G minor. Lighter bowing, please. Again. Again. Again...'
"-ROW!"
James snapped from the memory to find Marcus watching him. He gave a shaky nod and leaned back, projecting confidence only remembered at that moment. "Again." Muse, it's working. And as much as I hated that man, it worked on me as well. I feel dirty inside.
An hour later the boat was stopping and turning with only minor catastrophes, oars bumping and poor stroke timing chief among them. But Gloim isn't taking any of Yurli's nonsense, is he? And Rurik has Aingus in line as well.
"Take us to the beach, Mister Marcus. You did well today, all of you. You have begun to learn the basics and I do not fear as much as I did two weeks ago that you might all drown. We will practice this again next week until we are sure we will not overturn the boat."
Post by: mixafix on May 21, 2010, 04:56:30 AM
In other news cross border joint patrols reported no new troubles and a settled peace along the northern border which saw a return to quality farming and rural trade.
Meanwhile a small rat infestation at Lor was blamed on city wide cuts on services.
Post by: Script Wrecked on May 21, 2010, 07:40:00 AM
Post by: Dezza on May 22, 2010, 08:07:00 PM
Post by: mixafix on May 24, 2010, 05:45:51 AM
Argali the dwarf, unofficial champion of the dwarven retinue at Lor was appointed Captain of the Beacons with responsibility for the dwarves manning the beacons and their rotation to other related jobs where their responsibility passed to other commanders. The Dwraves of the beacons and their newly appointed commander now fell under the domain of the army of Lor. Any seconded duty within the city fell under the authority of Diet member Swann and her special portfolio for city defence.
In other news 4 Lor traders were arrested in separate incidents for spying near Prantz and returned across the border by gracious decree of the Court of Rael with instruction not to return on pain of death.
Post by: RollinsCat on May 24, 2010, 09:35:53 AM
"HOLD STARBOARD!" They turned in a controlled spin, the best yet; Marcus grinned as he beat the drum. "LET 'ER RUN!" Oars came up and rested in the oarlocks as the boat skimmed over brilliant green water.
James resisted the impulse to grin himself. "Stand!" He and the rowers stood, bent in a crouch to absorb the action of both the water and the boat. "Very good." He motioned them down and sat himself, letting the small craft coast. Rurik's enjoying this. Yurli and Gavin too.
The boat jerked to a stop on an eddy and spun a moment, then drifted lazily under the unseasonable warm sun. They were out far enough that the Lor beach was reduced to a thin crescent strip. Marcus dropped the drum and tipped his head back; Levi was squinting at something under the water, leaning over the side to get a better look. James let them sit, listening for when the mood shifted from readiness to relaxation. After a few minutes he clasped his hands in front of him.
"We're getting there. Now I promised you this morning something different, and I do deliver. Yurli, Aingus, Levi, to starboard." They started to switch positions but James raised a hand. "Don't change seats. All rowers starboard." Confused glances and they shuffled over, tipping the gunwale dangerously close to the waterline. James nodded to Marcus, who tied his drum inside an oilskin bag attached to the boat.
James stood, hands clasped behind his back. "You are rowing and turning reasonably well; soon we'll work on more precise maneuvers. But I have been given broad discretion on what to teach, and I am a pragmatist." Liar.
"I am not content to teach you to merely row, just as I assume you would not be content to be taught merely to swing a sword, with no knowledge of defense. Or to work iron with no knowledge of how to fix it if the temper is off. Or -- thank you, Hammer Birch -- to make weapon molds with no instruction on recovering the clay should it be imperfect." He paused, giving the cadets a moment to think.
"You can all swim well enough to stay alive and you now see the value in that. You also have become very good at water entries -- from the surf. Yet there comes a time when all your skills must come together, all the things you've learned coalesce in one critical moment. Such as -- "
He took a long stride onto the starboard gunwale and savored the horror on their faces as all two-hundred and fifteen pounds of him hit the edge. They scrambled for the port side, knowing it was already too late. He weighed enough; he'd spent a lifetime surprising people with how heavy he really was. Even a thin man carries weight if he's tall enough.
The boat rolled with a sucking sound that was imperceptible under the hollers and splashing of bodies hitting the water. He used what resistance was left to jump in feet-first, submerging and splaying to create drag. He couldn't see much upon opening his eyes; a thrashing blur above him where they had rolled into the sea. He hung in the water using every bit of his vocal training to keep his breath in. He lasted just under two minutes. Muse, my lungs are trashed. Kicking up, he broke the surface to see the boat upside down and listing at the stern. He counted seven heads and shook the water from his face with a sudden, dimpled grin that came unbidden and refused to leave.
"What shall we do now? Mister Aingus?"
The young dwarf spit salty ocean, snarled. "Wot in tha pits were that fer!"
"Preparation. I suggest you grab hold of the boat before it sinks. It is quite a long swim back to the beach." His accent was intact but the baritone fled under the pressure of keeping his lungs inflated while treading water. Rurik, Marcus and Yurli were closest and kicked over to grab the side sliding into the waves.
"Soir, she's goin' fast!" Gloim took hold by the stern.
"Calmly. Communicate. Coordinate. And stay out from under the hull; sides only." He swam over and took hold. "Righting a capsized craft is not difficult." Or so I read. The rowboat listed further and the stern end dipped under the water; Levi was now hanging from the bow. Stars and song Argali is going to kill me if I lose this boat!
"Everyone on this side! Everyone!" Legs thrashed and water churned. He could feel the ocean sucking at the hull; three oars floated loose. "On the count of three, flip! ONE! TWO! THR-"
Gloim, Rurik, Yarli and Gavin heaved as one and the boat was nearly airborne for a moment. Seawater poured over them as the craft rotated around, rocked wildly. There was a meaty thump and someone yelled; James took a long scrape to the forearm. But the boat settled low in the water and the bailing buckets were still attached.
"Very good." His heart was pounding so hard he could not believe they didn't hear it - it sounded like a tambourine player in his ears. "Two in first to bail." He eyed the waterlogged craft. "The two lightest; Mister Gavin and...Mister Marcus." The young men helped each other in by rote and James smiled then did another head count. Levi was struggling, dipping below the surface, and had a knot the size of a robin's egg on his forehead. "Get Levi in the boat. We'll steady you." He swam around and Gloim followed; Rurik and Aingus heaved Levi up just as they grabbed the other side. The heavy-set youth flipped over the edge, collapsed in a heap and shook.
Marcus sat down to bail while Gavin attacked the water in a frenzy. Buckets of ocean flew over the stern and bow; inch by inch the boat rose. "Mister Aingus and Mister Gloim, inside." They heaved themselves inside in turn, taking over bailing. "Mister Rurik, let's get the oars."
He kicked off the hull with a satisfaction that was all too brief. Grabbing one oar, he turned to swim back and saw a long grey shape slice the water off the bow. He was dumbstruck for a moment, then the salty ocean on his forearm quietly pricked his fear. A faint ribbon of red trailed from below his wrist to his elbow and into the sea.
Calm. Communicate. Coordinate. "Mister Rurik, leave that oar. Let's get on board. Now." He swam over, Standish's facade in place but for his too-wide black eyes.
"Sir, somethin' jess brushed me leg." Rurik's eyes widened a bit.
"Get in the boat!" He hung off the side while Rurik flipped over the starboard gunwale like a frightened dolphin, then heaved himself in. Something bumped the stern; Marcus took one look and turned back with a pale face. His mop of unruly brown hair lay like a skullcap. He pushed it from his eyes and did a quick survey of the water level inside the craft.
"READY TA ROW!" Aingus and Rurik dropped the buckets and took their seats while the rest grabbed oars. James pushed a groggy Levi into the sloshing center aisle, taking station across from Gavin. "ROW!"
The rowboat was sluggish and riding low with the extra water, dragging even as they put all their muscle into it. James forced himself to keep up with Gavin, lungs heaving and legs shaking; the dwarves, all four of them, picked up a rowing tune in time to Marcus's drum.
"And heave, and ho, and in, we go, and heave, and ho..." The four of them, all basso, formed a rich quartet that reminded him of Rocky. He bit his lip to keep from singing along, assuming he could through his gasping. The boat picked up speed and rode the swells toward shore, gaining even more momentum from waves pushing the stern. Ohhh hells...
"HOLD WATER!" James snapped out the command; oars flipped, but the weight of the water in the boat plus occupants was too much and two oars snapped. The boat skewed and rushed in sideways, sliding over slick low tide sand and grinding into the beach before spilling the rowers and the other forty buckets of sea as carelessly as a child tired of a toy.
A long moment of silence was broken by a single groan. He turned his head and saw Gavin wiping sand from his face. Aingus started in low with a string of what James safely assumed was invective, entirely in dwarven. He heard someone else roll over. Looking up, the grin returned, and his stomach clenched against a champagne feeling and lost.
He laughed. Just a little at first, then gaining steam as surely as the boat had, until he was awash in helpless snorts and giggles. Aingus and Levi stared hard at him -- that made it funnier, terminally funny, and he heard Gloim and Rurik start to chuckle as well. He thought he heard Gavin join in and he let it take him, uncertainty and fear released in helpless, teary whooping.
Someone walked over him and he gulped for air as the giggles wore off. The sound of wood on wood -- creaking. He sat straight up, slapping his palms into the sand. "Well. I'd say you all passed that little test." Rurik and Gloim were righting the boat and collecting the remaining unbroken oars, grins still wide on their faces. Marcus was tending to Levi, who was laughing softly now; Gavin was shaking off sand with a huge smile. Aingus turned to give James a steady glare.
"Yer lost yer mind."
"Mister Aingus, you may be right. But tell me -- after that, do you not feel more prepared for an eventual capsize?" The tall dwarf just looked at him, jaw unhinging and eyes bulging, then shook his head and stomped off to help Gloim. James watched him for a moment before turning his gaze to the others.
"You all handled that as well as I could have hoped. But I'm going to suggest that we not tell Madam...Captain Trueaxe about that particular test. " He smiled at the cadets, and most smiled back. "It will be our little secret."
Aingus scowled; James caught Gloim's eye and shifted his gaze quickly back to the sour-faced dwarf.
"Aye, Aingus. Yer'll keep it locked tight, 'on't yer? Jess started 'avin fun wit it, oi did..." Gloim fixed his gaze on Aingus, and Rurik stood beside his older cousin, also staring. Aingus turned to Yurli who gave him a blank look; the humans watched, mouths shut tight.
"Aye." The word was snapped out with a click of teeth, but Gloim and Rurik seemed satisfied.
James let out the breath he was holding . "Next week, we will concentrate on rowing technique, turning, and precision. No surprises. I promise." He stood, taking a moment to settle his face, and went to help with the clean-up.
Post by: RollinsCat on May 24, 2010, 09:42:59 AM
Post by: akata on May 24, 2010, 03:03:25 PM
Items for donation to the Army/Navy/Guards of Lor
10 Emerald Rings of Eagle's Splendor
10 Emerald Rings of Owl's Wisdom
10 Emerald Rings of Fox's Cunning
10 Emerald Rings of Endurance
15 Diamond Rings of Bull's Strenght (1 exceptional)
15 Diamond Rings of Cat's Grace
30 Diamond Rings of Fox's Cunning
30 Diamond Rings of Endurance (2 exceptional)
30 Diamond Rings of Owl's Wisdom (1 exceptional)
30 Diamond Rings of Eagle's Splendor (4 exceptional)
Besides from the Great Seal of Lor each item carries the seal of their creator/benefactor, a tiger
battling its own shadow. The tiger itself is not covered in the usual kind of stripes,
but with clearly visible lightning bolts
Post by: Dezza on May 27, 2010, 06:49:02 AM
Post by: Script Wrecked on May 28, 2010, 09:13:23 PM
The reviews are rounded out with the archery competition, wrestling, various heaving and hefting of stones, and rounds of "defend the tower", which are (largely) non-injurious to the participants.
All the while the captain maintains a watchful eye over those taking part, looking for those showing a bit more acumen than their fellows, a bit more potential than just guard.
(1) with the vacated towers being temporarily manned by the Lor [POST=1575352]rotation[/POST] contingent
Post by: RollinsCat on May 29, 2010, 10:53:31 PM
He'd already cleaned the boat, up before the sun. Bella's sweet notes had drifted up and down the beach since dawn and he felt more centered than he had in weeks for the playing. At some point -- he wasn't sure exactly when, in the grip of nervous preparation -- a cog had anchored offshore; he swung his arms in a full wave and saw it returned. Good, he's here. I hope he didn't steal that ship.
He was wiping algae from his hands when the first cadets arrived. Marcus, Levi and Yurli; they noted the tidy boat, oars set neatly, and looked at him. He smiled his usual closed-lip smile and gazed back to the cog. Gloim and Rurik, still arguing the merits of some unnamed dwarven lass, came next, followed by the sour-faced Aingus. Gavin ran up full-tilt a few minutes later with blood covering his tunic.
"Stars and -- Gavin, were you attacked?" James looked quickly behind the crimson-daubed youth and scanned for an opponent. The young man laughed.
"Naw, my pa and I butchered a pig is all." He grinned at Standish. "Figured it'd wash off when you made us swim or tipped the boat again!"
James relaxed and tapped his heart in acknowledgement of the hit. "No capsizing practice today. I've prepared the boat in advance so that we may have extra time on the water." He gestured for them to push the craft into the surf. "I have another surprise for you -- one I think you'll enjoy." Mild waves slapped the rowboat in a natural percussion as they walked it out until they were almost unable to stand.
"I've heard the rumblings of how it 'tain't right' for dwarves to be on water. With that in mind, I'd like to introduce you to someone. Row for the cog offshore." This is either the best or the worst idea I have ever had...
The boat barely rocked as they slung over and to their seats. Marcus shoved his hair aside and took the stern seat they'd built for him, drum in hand. "Ready to row." The young man no longer yelled; the time James had spent teaching him to project his voice had paid off. Working around Marcus's hearing loss had been a challenge but the coxswain had a solid enough intellect and was motivated. It was he, without James's prompting, who figured out to yell, then project, back and forth until he could tell the difference by the vibrations in his damaged ear, and this pleased James immensely.
"Row!" The boat lurched then moved toward open water. James sat back, watching his class. The dwarves started singing to the beat of the drum, with Gavin and Levi joining in; Marcus's eyes swept the horizon as they drew closer to the small single-mast bobbing on the glittering ocean.
"Hold water." Oars turned and the rowboat slowed abruptly. The cog was only a few feet away. James stood and waved; a rope sailed over, landing near Yurli's feet with a soft whump.
"Permission to climb aboard!" James stood and squinted in bright morning light, even though he knew who to expect. The others squinted as well and there was a communal intake of breath as a compact, absurdly muscled figure appeared at the break in the rails where the gangplank was laid flat.
"Ahoy, shortbeards! Climb aboard! Kurn Blackwater welcomes ye!" The cadets blinked at each other, then Rurik grinned and grabbed the rope as the others rose. James waited, watching Marcus.
"Drop anchor!" Good, you remembered. The anchor was tossed; it was not yet deep water and the iron hook bit quickly. James waved a hand at the rope and they hauled in to bump the side of the flat-keel cog. Rurik was the first up.
"Up ye go, up ye go -- " Kurn's ground-gravel voice resounded above. He sounds in a fine mood. Hells, he probably did steal the ship. "Mind yer feet, deck's wet."
James went last, after a quick securing of the rowboat. He used the look-over to sing a song of strength, furtively, quietly, to himself. But the risks of being caught spellsinging were less than that of falling off the rope. The cadets were standing in a loose group when he climbed onto the deck, watching Kurn and a pock-faced human with a range of emotions. He settled himself into James and walked to them.
"Beacon Tower Cadets, meet First Mate Kurn Blackwater. A dwarf -- and one of the best sailors you'll find in any port. Mister Blackwater was recommended to me by a friend and I've asked him to come speak to us today to debunk some of the myths surrounding dwarves and water. You may address him as First Mate Blackwater." He took a step back and bobbed his head to Kurn.
"THE BEST ye'll find in any port. This be Jack, he be helpin' me sail today." The human with the pitted skin nodded once and headed below deck; Kurn turned his attention back to the cadets. "I be tellin' ye lads, there's nothin' like life on the sea. Grew te manhood on a ship! Devil's Reef it was called fer that's what it surely was, crew was the worst of the worst -- "
James took a long step back to the side between his class and Kurn and broke in. "You told me why you felt dwarves make better sailors. I think the cadets would be interested in your opinion on that."
"Eh? Aye we be. Best sailors on the sea! Talls got too much leg, too unstable. We stay put through winds and rain -- a storm'd have te tear the boat apart before it kin move a dwarf!" There were chuckles and smiles, Yurli nudged Levi with a smug nod. Rurik and Gavin has their eyes glued to the mast and sail, only looking at Kurn once in a while to nod in that way that students have to deflect attention when their minds are elsewhere. The leather-skinned dwarven sailor grinned and raised his voice to a bellow. "YE LOT PAYIN' ATTENTION!?"
Rurik and Gavin swiveled their heads in guilty unison, but it was Marcus who spoke up. "First Mate Blackwater, I weren't raised suspicious of tha sea, but I gotta ask -- seems a quick way ta die, floatin' on a piece of wood over water."
"Weeeelll, true 'nuff, but it makes yer a man, too. The sea don't forgive ye, lads. She's a mean, mean woman, worse than any dock floozy and she'll cost ye more if yer not careful. But she got a way of training one's quickness too - every lurch or wave kin cast ye overboard into the circling sharks below, even on the brightest day. Ye either be sure of foot or quick of reflex or ye be dead to those dark waters, never ter be seen again...but then, fer every time yer livin' on the edge of her mercy, ye have a moment when yer on smooth water with a warm sun, full sails, a box of booty and the wind tickin' yer skin, and ye remember...oh, yeah, this is why we do this." A light breeze swirled across the cog's deck just then and ruffled the sailcloth; Kurn's mossy-toothed smile was nearly beatific.
" 'ow 'bout a story, then? From yer time on tha sea?" Aingus was more relaxed than James remembered ever seeing him and the dwarf's question held genuine curiosity.
"A story, eh? I'll tell ye a story 'bout the last trip I took, the Jacksonvilet she was, crew tried te take over the ship! Worked out well fer me though, I ended up first mate after we sent most of the original crew te the sharks -- " The cadets blinked, a few mouths hanging open. "Twas that crew what mutinied, lads, close yer yaps!" James squinted, started to open his own mouth, shut it again. That's not how I remember it but okay...
"Cap'n worked out a deal fer us te remove then, after I took her half-orc Master at Arms out first mind ye. Now that's a story lads -- I threw him overboard, alive, and the orcblood bassard swam all the way back to Fort Vehl te challenge me!" He grinned again, warming into his recounting. Rurik edged closer to the sail and began fingering the lines.
" He were seen all over, Missone, Dreger, ye name it. I sat in the arena in Vehl waitin' fer the big bassard but he didn't show, took te tryin' te shake information out of folks 'bout me whereabouts. Bloody waste of time -- I was right there waitin'! Finally showed his ugly face at a story-tellin'contest an' I had him then. Faced off against him and tore him a new orc hole! Dragged him outside, chopped him te bits -- now whole town be fuller orc pirate parts, har!"
James cleared his throat, looking for a distraction. "You've probably done the world a service, then, Mister Blackwater. Mister Rurik, did you want to see how those sails work?"
The youth nodded, eyes bright. James moved toward him. Yurli stood close as well, eyeing Kurn with an expression that shifted from disgust to fascination and back. "That's the mainsheet, used to keep the sail in trim. You hold it thus -- " He took the rope in a two-handed grip and demonstrated. "This lets you move the sail around to catch the wind. These are the halyards, lines that raise the sails. Those are downhauls, to let them down. These three are the running rigging. This is a small cog so things are not as complex as a larger sailing ship but this gives you a good idea of how it works." He put the lines in their hands, explaining, letting them tug and turn. At some point he turned to find Kurn watching him with an unnervingly canny expression. "Yes, Mister Blackwater?"
"Ye always had a beard, Standish? Ye seem familiar some'ow."
"As long as I've know me I've had one, yes." Technically true...
"Issat so. Hm." Kurn turned away and Standish left the cadets discussing the sails. He walked to Kurn, leaning close and whispering.
"You didn't steal this ship, did you Mister Blackwater?"
The dwarf gave him a flat-eyed look. "And what if I did? Ye asked me to show yer shortbeards a dwarf can sail. Reckon that leaves the equipment procurement te me, eh?" James let a hard breath out his nose and Kurn flicked a twisted grin. "I be kiddin' ye. This time. Ye owe Dockmaster Kenty five hunnerd True though."
James merely nodded. "Think we can take them out for a sail?"
"Aye, the puckered lad's about te wet his pants over the wheel and rudder." Standish looked and Kurn was right; Aingus had both meaty hands on the wheel, stroking it, eyes out to sea. Rurik, Gavin, Levi, and Marcus were still playing with the sailing lines; Yurli was now poking around by the ladder leading below deck. Only Gloim stood by the rail, watching but not participating.
"Then they're yours for now, Mister Blackwater, and I'll assist."
"ARIGHT LISSEN UP!" Seven faces swiveled to Kurn. "Standish says take yer out fer a sail, so ye and ye -- " He pointed to Rurik and Gavin -- "git the sail up full. Ye two -- " This time to Yurli and Levi -- "git on the rode and git the anchor up. Ye on the wheel, steady there. An' ye -- " This to Marcus and Gloim -- "If it ain't tied down, tie it down." The cadets set to their tasks, Standish helping as questions were raised, the Heartsong around him ringing with anticipatory tension.
Gloim finished tying together some loose rope and leaned against the rail with a little smile. James stood by him a moment while Kurn continued barking out orders. "Not as excited about this, Mister Gloim?"
The stocky dwarf considered, his shocking blue eyes watching the activity and his cousin especially. "Nay, oi'm jus as 'appy standin' on land, soir. Tain't me place ta sail. Yer got Rurik 'ere -- good luck getting' 'im offa ship, 'ow. Aingus be hooked an' reeled too...me, I'm jus doin' fer tha lady."
James smiled at that. "The lady? You mean Captain Trueaxe?"
Gloim's face didn' t move but even his lush, sand-colored beard couldn't fully cover the flush around his cheeks. "Aye."
"Mmm." He leaned closer to the dwarf. "There are worse things than to ask, you know, although I suspect the lady may feel herself a bit old for you." Gloim flushed even more and James pushed himself off the rail to correct the halyard tension. The cog bumped the rowboat twice as the sailcloth were unfurled and with a bow-to-stern rocking the little ship caught sail across the warming ocean water.
James had to do most of the trimming but his class came together well after seven weeks of practice. Kurn took them up the coast, close enough to the shore to avoid looking like a target to any privateers lurking. Rurik was not merely motivated; he acted as a man in love, taking control of the sails under James's watchful eye for the return to the rowboat. Kurn took some time with Aingus and let him steer, talking low to the other dwarf which worried James more than a little. Aingus's sour expression faded to his focus on holding the course true and twice a smile even cracked through; the rest seemed to enjoy themselves to varying degrees. Closer to the rowboat, Kurn took the wheel again and James the sails and together they pulled the ship close enough to the little craft to drop in.
"Yer sure I never met ye 'fore." Kurn gave Standish another long look and James shook his head. Kurn snorted and turned to the cadets. "Not bad fer a bunch of first-timers. Off with ye, then -- and remember, dwarves be the best sailors on the ocean, and if anyone tells ye otherwise, ye wait till they turn around then ye slip them cold steel and feed their liver to a shark! HAR!"
"Let's drop in and head for shore. It's already almost noon." James held the line as his cadets slid down and turned to salute Kurn. "A good sail, Mister Blackwater. Thank you for coming."
"Aye. Five-hunnerd Trues, Standish. Don't ferget." James nodded again and let himself into the rowboat. They pushed off, Kurn not wasting time to wave but pounding on the deck for Jack, as the small class of Beacon Tower Cadets rowed for the beach.
Post by: Script Wrecked on June 06, 2010, 01:30:11 AM
Post by: RollinsCat on June 09, 2010, 12:14:00 PM
They came around in a tight circle, oars never hitting the crumbling monolithic bolder that was their obstacle. Marcus's fingers only brushed against the drum but they knew what to listen for. Aside from the oars hitting the water the boat was quieter than it had ever been and James felt a flush of pride as they straightened and rowed for the next obstacle, holding water just before plowing into the shallow bar and then rolling the boat over without getting stuck.
"Take her out a ways, gentlemen. We'll go for speed." They nodded and turned toward the deep sea. The young men rowed in concert, each aware of his partner's strength and adjusting accordingly. James noted when they passed over the land's shelf and the water went from sea green to a deep forest green, fading to black inches under the surface. "Far enough." He nodded to Marcus. Muscles tensed, bodies shifted, and there was a lightning flicker of anticipation.
Marcus's fingers jumped to a swift tapping on the drumskin. "Row!"
The boat didn't buck this time; they'd learned not to throw all their weight into the first stroke. They pulled forward in a controlled surge and built on the momentum, rolling the oars. Marcus kept near-perfect time, James counting despite himself. He tried to shake off his inner metronome and focus on the class but his ponytail kept whipping around into his face, sharp slaps like an insect's sting, so he turned into the wind.
A subtle shift, the young men falling into an instinctive, shared rhythm. The sound pulled him from his seat -- it was the first time he'd felt it that strong. He doubted they knew what it was that put them in such synchronicity, but it didn't matter. They were acting as one. The boat was moving fast over the water and he felt that champagne bubbling inside his chest; he turned and stood in a crouch to allow the motion to lift him. It wasn't enough of a sensation so he stood on the seat, a slender and unwieldy-tall figurehead, floating up and down with the rowing and the waves. He leaned forward and folded his arms while his head fell back, hanging on to his balance by a wing and a prayer. The feeling rolled over him, the joy inside rushing as fast as the wind outside, the feeling of his class moving as one, their delight in the sensual thrill of pure speed, and a building sense of mischiev-
"HOLD WATER!" They dipped and turned oars, the boat tossing up at the bow and wood moaning in protest from the sudden stop. Before he could open his eyes he was flying and for a moment he didn't want to see, he only wanted to feel himself weightless in the air. It was too brief, the moment ending when the sea allowed him to displace it with a grudging splash. He came up sputtering to the sound of seven young men laughing with increasing gusto and hands slapping hands. Mirthful eyes watched him float. He grinned, he couldn't stop it, and kicked over to the rowboat.
"A little slower for shore, if you please, and let's discuss that as a tactic." He pulled himself in and sat to wring water from his hair. "If you are boarded, or wish to remove someone from your vessel, maneuverability is one way to do it. Of course, most enemies will not be so accommodating as to stand up while you are moving, but if they do, use it to your advantage." His tone was dry but his eyes still sparkled. "Take us to the beach; that was a good morning's practice. Can you all return later this afternoon? Marcus, Rurik, hold a moment after we beach, I'd like to speak with you."
"Oi gotta 'elp wit me fea's fadder's work, oi do." Gloim's voice was resigned, and Rurik smirked.
"Fea?" James had a sudden image of a slender elven woman and this young golden dwarf, and he almost giggled.
"He's fianced. Goin' to get married!" The smirk in Rurik's voice switched to full glee and Gloim's eyes narrowed.
" 'areful as ye go, cousin. She got sister what loikes 'er feed mor'n Gavin's pigs do an 'er fadder want 'em both proper wed..." Rurik shut his mouth swiftly and it was Gloim's turn to grin.
"Can you come tomorrow afternoon then? It will give me time to make arrangements."
"Oi kin."
"Tomorrow, then, all of you. Just after sun's peak."
Beaching, stowing gear, jumbled conversation and the occasional snickered remembrance of their instructor's short flight over the sea; he listened with what was no longer merely a twinge of loss. My class. Marcus and Rurik left last, walking together in conversation after accepting his proposal, and James smiled faintly and went to make some purchases and send a certain copper-haired dwarven captain a note.
The Next Day.
They straggled in, Rurik and Gloim first, Aingus, Gavin and Marcus, Yurli, and finally Levi whose loose gait and too-bright eyes did not escape James. Muse, that's a look I wore for years. Was I that obvious?
"Good morning." They eyed the boat, scrubbed cleaner than they'd ever seen it and propped up in the sand, buckets of pigment and brushes sitting nearby. "I want to say, gentlemen, that it has been a great pleasure to be your instructor in this endeavor. You are my first class, and I am proud of you and what you've learned." Don't choke up, you sentimental twit. "It is time to consider your basic training complete and to offer others the chance to learn. However, there is a naval tradition that I would like to introduce you to. I'm aware that this is only a rowboat -- but she's your rowboat, you who are the first of the Beacon Tower Cadets to learn this skill." He used the full range of his voice, pausing, making eye contact. He wanted them to feel the moment and every one of his twenty-five years as a performer came to bear.
"Before this, she was only a rowboat, but she will now be the training boat for each new class. Yet she does not have a name. You are the first class; you will name her." He gestured to the brushes and paint, expensive paint that would cling to wood and resist salt. He had guessed at the colors but given their Captain, he was sure he'd guessed right. "Gentlemen. What would you like all those who climb aboard from now on to call her?"
They circled, speaking in low tones. Gavin insisted on something while Yurli shook his head, aghast; Rurik spoke up and the other six immediately nixed the suggestion. James, standing near the boat, could hear each word. He waited. Another round of possible names was refused until Gloim finally spoke and the silence that followed his choice reverberated in the Heartsong with a feeling of rightness.
"Have we all agreed?" Nods. "Does anyone here have any skill with brushes?" Head shakes, until Levi raised a finger.
"I do some paintin', sir." Levi's voice was surprisingly soft and light for a man. No wonder he doesn't speak much; he must get his share of hell for that.
"Then step up, and we'll all work on the design." They clustered while Levi took up the brushes in hands a little unsteady but skilled enough to hide it. "Gloim, would you keep an eye out; I'm expecting the Captain soon." No need to say which Captain, and the soon-to-be-married dwarf jogged off with a blush of eagerness.
It wasn't an hour before Gloim's wave from up the beach alerted them and the boat was covered hastily with a dropcloth. She came with her usual efficient steps and her golden armor ablaze in the slanting sun.
"Captain." He gave his most respectful bow, stolen from Aya's knowledge of Huangjin court etiquette. She nodded to him and he did not miss the twinkle in her eye. "May I present your cadets, trained and fully ready to maneuver on the seas should the need arise." She stood at respectful attention which they all mirrored, nodding again, and before she could speak he continued. "Mister Marcus and Mister Rurik have agreed to stay with me for the next class to assist with teaching. They are willing to learn to teach themselves, so that we can increase the number of cadets who can learn this skill, and I'm honored to have them. And finally, the Cadets have something they'd like to share. Mister Rurik?"
Rurik stepped forward and flung off the dropcloth. Their pride and excitement made the Heartsong sound like a kaleidoscope with Argali's curiosity as a counternote. The cloth settled on the sand in a fluffy thump. She stepped closer and the cadets moved aside, all eyes on her, as she saw what was painted on both sides of the prow. The sun flashed on the deep gold letters, edged in red and white...
BTC TRUEAXE
Post by: Script Wrecked on June 11, 2010, 08:00:03 AM
"Captain."
Argali eyed the cadets; they seemed full of anticipation, and were looking quite guilty of something.
"May I present your cadets, trained and fully ready to maneuver on the seas should the need arise."
She looked deeply to each cadet, to see if they faltered at Standish's description. Each one seemed to beam with a certain degree of chuff and pride.
"Mister Marcus and Mister Rurik have agreed to stay with me for the next class to assist with teaching. They are willing to learn to teach themselves, so that we can increase the number of cadets who can learn this skill, and I'm honored to have them."
Argali nodded while giving Marcus and Rurik an appraising look.
"And finally, the Cadets have something they'd like to share. Mister Rurik?"
Argali's attention followed as the drop cloth fell away, revealing the freshly cleaned and scrapped hull. Then letters in gold and red and white...
Mmm... That is a nice name, she thought(1), and then flushed as she realised whose name it was.
"Oh!"
Standish nodded once back to her, "The cadets chose it."
She flushed again as she looked back over the cadets, and grinned broadly to all, despite feeling somewhat awkward.
"You honourr herr grreatly." Argali stepped closer and ran her hand across the sides of the boat as you might a horse.
"She hopes that she will serrve you faithfully, and always brring you home again."
She learnt over to the boat, and whispered something softly as though into an ear.
"Aznzhazoth pohark k'al poazzig."(2)
(1) in dwarven
(2) "Always bring them back."
Post by: Script Wrecked on June 12, 2010, 01:14:14 AM
The cadets stand in lines, more or less, wearing their azure blue kerchiefs about their neck and shoulder. A drummer strikes up a beat, and the cadets who have completed the boat training parade in, all notable for their missing kerchiefs. They march to the front, bearing what appears to be a long timber wrapped in a tarpaulin.
A dwarven lass takes the fore.
"Cadets. It iz herr pleazurre to be prezenting the candidates who arre zuccessfully completing the boating inztruction. It iz no zmall feat that has been accomplished herre. The sea iz not the naturral situation forr many of us, and they have overrcome the obstacles and their own fearrs to become the skilled boats man. She hopes you are inzpired by their action, and are willing to zeek out the challenges which you might otherwise not.
"It iz the true adage that the mountain iz not climbed until you have climbed it.
"Cadets, step forrwarrd, please."
With that, the copper haired dwarven lass presents the boating cadets with their azure neck kerchiefs. As she does, she shows each of them the dwarven rune for 'boat' that has been embroidered in white thread in the rear corner, before reaching around and tying about their neck.
She then leads the round of applause for the presented cadets.
"Zis would not have be the poszible without the experrt guidance of theirr instructorr. Misterr Standish, please to be stepping forwarrd."
A man with a close clipped beard steps before his former pupils.
The tarpaulin bearer moves from the line to present Standish with the shrouded item. James gives the dwarf a familiar wink before accepting the gift and unwrapping it; a virgin oar, finely sanded and well oiled.
Inscribed at the top, "James Standish, who made us swim."
Below follow the year and the names of each of the successful cadets.
"Three cheerrs forr the Misterr Standish."
The cadets break their decorum to give their instructor several rousing and heartfelt cheers.
Post by: RollinsCat on June 12, 2010, 10:09:14 AM
"Thank you, very much." His thumb grazed his mustache, smoothing it across his upper lip. He let his gaze slide to Argali and lowered his lids briefly. I got you, you got me, my friend.
"I am very proud of these men and they should be very proud of themselves." He heard them square their shoulders for being called men - well, they were, or very nearly anyway. "However, I find myself in need of another six cadets." It was not conversationally put and his gaze roamed the lines of youthful faces in the hall.
Murmurs and discussion, eyes on the seven standing at the front with straight backs and proud expressions. Heads shaking, a few shoved forward by well-meaning or not-so-well-meaning friends only to fall back. James's face remained impassive although inside the elation eroded a bit. A minute, nearly two...
"Well if yer boys are gonna stand 'round yappin' like a pack o' puppies , I guess it's up ter us." One of the rare female dwarven cadets stepped up to James, pulling another young dwarven woman by the hand. She tilted her head back so her blue-green eyes met his. "If they kin do it, by Dorand we kin do it." Her friend hesitated then gave a quick jerk of a nod. "I'm Norani, Mister Standish, an' this is Dordis."
"Very well, Miss Norani, Miss Dordis. I'm pleased you ladies have stepped up." He emphasized the "ladies" while looking up; the seven remained at attention but a few snickers were heard as they, Argali, and Standish gazed over the lines again. Three young dwarves jostled forward, one of whom could not stop looking at Norani.
"We'll do it." Blurted from the one whose eyes kept wandering to the aqua-eyed lass. James heard Argali school a smile away from her face.
"One more." He had judged the acoustics right and his voice boomed off the back of the hall, causing more than a few cadets to jump when their attention was yanked from wherever it had wandered off to. A burly dwarf who gave the impression of being as wide as he was tall rolled his neck - or James assumed it was his neck, it was in the general area of a neck if necks looked like small tree trunks - and walked to join the other five.
"Belthic, sir. I volunteer." His rumbling bass was devoid of the usual artifacts of dwarven speech, the common as clear as James's own - clearer, without even James's Huangjin speech quirks.
"Belthic. Thank you." James gestured for him stand with the others, and turned. "Class will start in two week's time from today. Meet Mister Rurik and Mister Marcus here before sun's up and they will take you to the dock." He gave them a courteous, short bow, waved them back to the lines, and returned to Argali's side to watch the rest of the ceremony. My class...
Post by: Black Cat on June 12, 2010, 11:03:27 AM
... at one of the camp*
'annur lads. Ehts gud ta see young ones taking proide in da way ov war. Vorax will be pleased ta see ya all working so 'ard fer da cause ov Lor.
Be ever vigilant loike da Fadder, be strong an' courageous. Fer da toime ta come will nay be easy. But 'now dat wherever ya be... an' whatever ya face, da Fadder will be der besoides ya... an' so will all yer comrades. Beloive in 'em, trust 'em an' yer shoild-wall will be unbreakable an' yer axe will stroike true. Nay fear, kin will prevail.
*Grohin sits then quietly by the fire, answering questions put to him by the young lads, showing them a few moves and blessing them with the power of Vorax.*
Post by: Script Wrecked on June 17, 2010, 09:25:14 AM
The cadets scuttled into place about the hall as Argali strode about their ranks, clapping her hands after them to imbue a sense of urgency.
She cast an scrutinizing eye up and down the ranks, as was perhaps filled with an enhanced sense of pride as she made her way to the front. This feeling of pride was due in part to the presence of the figure waiting to the side of the hall.
"Good afterrnoon, cadets."
She waited for the chorus in reply, "Good afternoon, ma'am."
"Zis zeason, we will be learrning the skill vital to the defense of the Towerrs of the Beacons. Vital to the defense of any towerr, in fact, orr the castle wall. Orr perrhaps even to zave yourr family frrom the hungerr.
"The arrcherry!"
She drew a tarpaulin from the first of several large square targets, bales of tightly packed straw with large concentric circles pinned to the front.
"Forr zis, you will be having the inztrruction by the Misterr Caerrwyn Ahrail'lan." Her hand beckoned Caerwyn forward. "You will address him as the Misterr Ahrail'lan, orr the zirr.
"Remember, cadets, the archerry iz the dangerrous. You will do exactly as the Misterr Ahrail'lan iz instrructing you."
Post by: mixafix on June 23, 2010, 05:57:47 AM
Meanwhile The Rael ambassador made the following invitation. "When these animals have bene brought up to standard and their riders given some basic training you may wish to have your company of cavalry train with Rael's Corps of cavalry along the border region."
Post by: RollinsCat on June 23, 2010, 12:53:14 PM
He forced his attention back to the warm, salty air enveloping him. A handful of gulls overhead were in a pitched battle for a large fish that became smaller with each snap of a beak. He took a few steps left to avoid the piscine shrapnel, moving closer to a line of ships bumping gently into the walkway. There was a Morningstar and two trawlers tied off and an Almoran retrofitted for cargo, or at least that's what her captain wanted them to think. He was closest to that slip and he'd picked up snatches of conversation that lead him to believe their cargo was obtained at sea rather than on shore. He made some quiet notes to share with Argali later.
It would be another hour at least before the Trigantine made it to the deepest end of the long stretch of dock and he had research to do. A Rohden Naojin, the Always Remember, had made port early that morning. He strolled toward the huge naval ship with a straight back and hands clasped behind him as if the entirety of the docks was his kingdom to survey, nodding to this person and that -- cordial to the powerful and weak alike. James would be that way.
The Always Remember was bigger up close that he expected and better armed. Rohden was serious about naval defense and a line of trebuchets were just visible along the top deck, with ballistae and a few cannon ports for flavor. He nodded to some crewmen who were neatly attired in blue with silver buttons, asking if the first mate was aboard. They directed him to a short Corsainian discussing a supplies list with a harried officer.
It was a long conversation but he didn't really need to talk to the man so much as listen. He fixed his pretense firmly in his mind then turned an ear to both the conversation in front of him and those around him. He listened to the naval seamen, their speech -- this is definitely a Corsain vessel, more's the luck -- and the Heartsong as well for the emotional component to really sell the bluff. He absorbed terminology, phrasing, the nomenclature of this specific ship.
"Yes?"
James blinked then came to attention as the first mate turned to him and spoke. The man seemed abrupt but not hostile, merely busy. James gave a short, shallow bow and spoke in his best Corsainian accent, his most clipped military diction. "James Standish, sir. I am formerly of naval service and I was hoping to reacquaint myself with a ship of war. I have been teaching here in Lor for some time and have gotten crusty. I will volunteer my time if you will have me; you may contact Captain Trueaxe at the Beacon Tower for verification of my identity." He hated leaving off the Rohden part of the story but he hadn't patched that hole just yet.
The man eyed him; the height, the slender build, the ruler-straight posture, hair pulled into a tight ponytail and clothing spotless except for a few fish scales from on high. James kept his chin up and waited. "Where from, then?"
"Western Gate, sir. Mer district."
The first mate looked him over once more with a flicker of recognition in his dark eyes. "Come back in a few hours. If your Captain gives us a good word I might show you around."
It would do, and gave him time to meet the other ship. He gave a more formal bow and walked back slowly, listening as he went, enjoying the bustle around him. He saw Norani and Dordis -- funny how I always think of them that way, Norani first -- haggling at a fish stall and had to hold back a grin at the bashing Norani was giving the poor halfling sod behind the planks. She was turning out to be his best cadet, serious when called for, teasing when not; a strong rower, and not afraid of challenging the other cadets, Rurik and Marcus included. The only possible trouble brewing was Rurik taking a liking to the lass, and cadet Bregan having eyes for her as well. She played them both like a maestro and this rare little window into dwarven romance made him smile.
My class. Rurik and Marcus had devised an even more devious capsize test than his, which they had planned for next week. The first few weeks had been swimming lessons which had gone well enough except for poor Belthic who could not float if you tied him to a gnomish air lift. The man was too dense, too muscled, and treading water wore him out fast. But he was trying, they all were, and his two trainer cadets knew their efforts had cracked the ice. Dordis, of all of them, had even expressed a desire to learn the archery that was now being offered and that made him smile as well, even as he knew he had to carefully avoid the archery instructor whose sharp eyes and knowledge of Andrew's various personalities would doubtless give James away. Cross that bridge when you must, Tashe.
The Trigantine was being hauled in and two dozen men were shouting and pulling to get the huge hull lengthwise. Tricky, and not usually done, but their cargo would not do well on a smaller ship. He watched in his usual stance, hands behind his back. As much as he hated the attitude that projected it was helpful to keep his nervous ticks in check; otherwise he'd play with his beard and mustache all day because he liked how it felt on his fingers. He'd always wondered about men who grew facial hair and incessantly smoothed it. Now he knew.
The boarding planks came down. It was all out of his hands now and the best he could hope for was to be given recognition for his initiative. This little project had been brewing ever since he and Argali had been discussing the treading water class she'd wanted to institute, and if he could teach that as well. He'd agreed; it was in the planning stages with his cadets as test subjects. They'd been deep in conversation when a magnificent mare was ridden by, drawing both of their eyes.
"Mmm... She iz the fine specimen, no? Argali iz looking to be finding the cavalry grrade horrses. If you arre finding them, be zurre to be letting herr know."
That was all he needed. Weeks turned to months of listening anywhere horses were traded and sold for a deal, something he could present to the city and negotiate for them. But it was his other project, listening for pirate activity, that had paid that dividend.
Poor Silver the Lucky. Not so lucky in his final end, but a well-known horse trainer in his time on shore. His grave in Audira had said only "Here lies Silver, Pirate, and horse trainer of Vanavar. May his horse roam free", and off to Vanavar he'd gone. Luck? Instinct? Ilsare's guiding touch? Gut feeling, that was certain. A well-trained horse turned wild might attract a herd. He'd taken a chance on sending Shadowleaf a letter as James, knowing he'd need a scout and tracker, and then had to call in Annwyl as well -- thank the Muse she knows who I am -- and Annwyl had recruited Argos, Rory and Dot. Vanavar was rife with bandits still, fifty-plus years of recovery having not reached much farther than North Hampton, and all their swords and arrows had been needed.
And, he'd been useless, unable in the mantle of James to sing a single note or spell. Well, I did sing a few when they could not hear me -- so easy to blame potions... It was a long and wild search that had them crossing thieves and drakes and magic-wielding bandits until finally Rory had spotted a huge, shaggy herd of horses. They'd scattered; all but one, the largest stallion. He'd snorted and whinnyed and prepared to kick, his training so instinctive that even wild he'd fight. Rory and Leaf's touches soothed him although he seemed to take to Rory best. And no wonder, the way she looked in that skirt. Rawr.
They had coaxed the stallion back to North Hampton and the rest of the herd followed; most were captured. When Rory and Leaf walked the big fellow through the city gates a few recognized the animal. "Longjon Copper, he is! Where'd you find him? Mistress of Silver's let him go when the old pirate died, we'd figured him lost..."
The trip had been valuable, not just for Lor. He'd gotten away with being James in front of friends. No one recognized him; not Leaf, not Rory, not Dot. Argos had nearly put his composure over a cliff when he'd started talking about Huangjin being his favorite city, but it turned out to be idle conversation based on the man's faith and James's obvious island heritage and the Toranite seemed fooled.
It had also been costly. True for the care and upkeep of the horses while he sailed to Lor to let them know, a few hundred True each to Argos, Leaf, Rory, and Dot -- Annwyl refused, she had her own price which he was glad to meet -- and transportation costs. Not to mention how angry Tyra was going to be at how long he'd been gone. That was going to be very costly indeed...he chuckled. At least she can't kick me out of bed.
A shrill whinnying brought his eyes to the ship. There were sounds of a scuffle and some shouting. He started for the gangplanks before he realized what he was doing then a milk-smooth female contralto cut through the cacophony.
"Take the big boy first. The mares will follow him, then the other stallions. Him -- HIM, the big gray! Yes, lead him." A young man came over the plank leading a rope and behind him was Longjon, teeth barred but not fighting the lead rope. The destrier drew some admiring murmurs and his pricked-up ears seemed to know it. The mares followed, then the other stallions, with very little calamity but a single overzealous sailor trying to stroke one and ending up in the harbor with a hoof mark on his side.
He watched the horses being led off. Time to see if Captain Trueaxe was willing to be his persona's alibi...and I really hope I beat the first mate's inquiry, otherwise I have some explaining to do.
Post by: Script Wrecked on June 24, 2010, 07:35:15 AM
The delegates themselves are a diverse bunch, some chosen for their accumulated years and wisdom, some for their plain speaking and common sense, others for their youth and vigor, and even some because no-one else was available.
Each delegate makes a brief introduction of who they are, where they're from and who they represent, and give a brief description on the main challenge their particular community faces. Variously the responses are sympathetic murmurs to the occasional squawk of outrage. On some occasions, another delegate is able to make an insightful suggestion to the situation, or offer practical aid or solution.
At the last session, the council is addressed by the no-nonsense ore trader and dwarven representative on the Lor Diet, Ogrefeller Orebasher, whom has been attending the gathering from the side lines. He addresses each delegate, vowing to take on board the more serious problems that would be best addressed by the weight of the Diet. He also asks each delegate what accomplishable task their community can undertake to make things better for themselves or the kin and countryman about them.
"Ye wan' help; guv' help."
The end of the gathering is marked by a small feast, with much mirth and merry making. Coincidentally, more candid discussion seems to take place over the mugs of ale and tables of food.
(1) For explicitness, the delegates only come from Lor and the outlying areas. However, they would actually welcome any (true) kin from further north, were there any. Most of the dwarves remaining in the Rael Kingdom have either migrated south to live in and about Lor, or are "trapped" in Prantz (this is based partially on the dwarven population figures for [LORE]Rael Kingdom[/LORE] and [LORE]Lor[/LORE]). They do mean to encompass the whole of the Rael Kingdom and represent all the dwarves therein, its just that they are all (most) of the remaining dwarves.
Also, they would never acknowledge the dominionship of Rael over these lands in their title; "Southern Dregar" acts as a proxy in this regard.
Post by: Cinnabar on June 24, 2010, 12:34:57 PM
"As Miss Argali mentioned, I'm here to offer you all some guidance in the use of various bows. She's quite correct: Archery is dangerous; it's supposed to be. The trick is to only have it be dangerous to something you intend to hit. So, Safety Rule #1: Never point a bow at anything you don't intend to shoot; once an arrow takes flight, you can't call it back!" Caerwyn looks to each of the eight or so cadets to make sure that registered well, receiving the requisite nods from each.
"We'll start today with the standard bow." He unshoulders his own hunting longbow, which fairly glows from decades of careful oiling. "The first thing to know about any bow is how to string and unstring one." He sets the lower bow tip on the floor, slides his right foot up against it, steps through the bow with his left leg, and, pressing down hard on the upper arm of the bow, levers it over his hip. He lifts the string out of the upper nock, before slowly releasing the pressure on the bow. Reversing the process, Caerwyn demonstrates the bow's restringing.
"Now this bow is fairly powerful and a little tall for some of you." A wry smile crosses his face as he takes note of the number of dwarven cadets in the room. "So, I've made a few of lighter draw weight for you to use here." He pulls back a tarpaulin covering a table in the hall to reveal a small collection of oaken bows, both long and short. "I didn't know how many to expect, which means that you'll have to share for today. I'll try to make enough more before our next session, for each of you to have your own. It's important that you each learn with your own bow, as they all have a slightly different feel."
"Alright, let's see each of you try to string and unstring one then." One by one, they step forward and he supervises each individual attempt, giving small advice and encouragement, as needed. One of the dwarven cadets, a girl, strides forward full of confidence and shakes her head when Caerwyn offers her a short bow, as he has with the other dwarves. "I can handle a large one, just fine.", she insists. He shrugs and hands her a longbow, watching, surprised, as she actually manages to string it, though with great effort. "Pretty good", he nods to her. "Now, imagine yourself running through the forest after some quarry, with something that much taller than you in your hand. Is your clearly well placed pride really worth tripping over it?" She shakes her head in understanding and looks down. "Go ahead and unstring it now." She follows the example given perfectly but, as she releases the pressure after removing the string, the bow bounces out of her hand and clatters to the floor. "There, let that be a lesson for all of you.", he addresses the cadets. "Any bow you can't conveniently string and unstring is a bow that's too much. Better to choose a bow that you can handily use."
"It's alright", he speaks to the dwarven girl quietly, "I'm amazed that you were able to string that bow in the first place, Miss...?." "Dordis", she replies, still somewhat abashed. "Ah, yes.", he nods, "Your name precedes you. You're a sailor of some note I hear." "Yes Sir!", she says enthusiastically, her confidence returning. "Well, now you'll learn to be an archer too.", he smiles.
Turning back to the cadets at large, Caerwyn speaks up. "I know you all want to shoot, and we'll finish with that today." He looks to one of the dwarven boys. "Gunder, is it? Would you turn those bales around for us." "Yessir", the lad replies smartly. "Since we're just starting out, let's not pepper parchement today. Besides, in the field, few of your intended targets will have convenient circles painted on them", he chuckles. "Later on we'll get to precision, which is where targets will be useful as a metric." He paces off 25 steps back from the center bale, after Gunder has turned them round, and draws a chalk line on the floor. Gripping his own hunting bow, Caerwyn takes his stance on the line and nocks a plain bronze tipped arrow. "Do yourselves a favor and avoid using what's called the 'pinch grip'." He turns to demonstrate, before resuming his standard three finger grip on the string. "It's easier at first, but you'll want to unlearn it later." He then moves slowly, talking through each of the steps of the draw, before he lets fly, skewering the bale. "Alright, one at a time then. Let's see what you each can do, with a flight of five." As each shooter steps to the line, Caerwyn hands them a strung bow appropriate to their size. For each shot, he hands them a single arrow, making note of their stance, grip, and draw, saying little other than to address issues of safety. Most manage at least a few into the bale, with any errant arrows, skidding across the floor or smacking into the far wall, happily a stone one.
Caerwyn speaks gently to the last shooter, a tall, lanky, perhaps human, girl with waist-length red hair, as she steps up to the line. "You don't say much, Miss." "Oh that's Ginny Reath, she's quiet.", booms Gunder. Caerwyn turns to the cadets in general and says in a soft voice, "Some of the best archers are." "Go ahead and take your shots, Miss Reath." As all her arrows hit the bale, three of them close to the middle, he nods approvingly and offers her a small smile and a knowing wink.
"Next week, we'll work on technique and increase our distance. See you all then." Caerwyn collects the arrows, discarding the damaged ones and unstrings the bows before putting them away.
Post by: Script Wrecked on June 27, 2010, 09:51:41 AM
Quote from: mixafix
Meanwhile The Rael ambassador made the following invitation. "When these animals have been brought up to standard and their riders given some basic training you may wish to have your company of cavalry train with Rael's Corps of cavalry along the border region."
A certain dwarf is observed to bristle almost audibly upon hearing of the ambassador's offer.
Post by: RollinsCat on July 06, 2010, 01:49:31 PM
James gave them a long once-over. He had not had a hand in picking these, they were whomever had volunteered. He nodded to himself, then spoke.
"Cadets, into your swim clothing please." He liked how his voice carried, the echo contained by the trees. He'd have to remember this spot. He turned to strip down to his cut-off pants and the sudden shock he heard caught him by surprise.
Rurik almost jumped over in his haste to pull James aside. James looked back and saw some of his class gone, heard the rustling of clothing blocked by foliage, and the rest gaping at him. "Mister Standish, er, we don't...that is, yer can't strip in front of the ladies, sir. Yer need to get behind a tree or sommat."
"Apologies, Mister Rurik. I suppose years on a ship degrades one's modesty somewhat." The dwarf nodded and James made it behind a tree before letting loose the fully dimpled grin he'd been fighting.
He came out and had to stop a moment and regain composure. The humans and halfling were dressed much as he, old clothes cut to capture one more use before the seams gasped their last. The dwarves, however, were in the most old-fashioned swimming suits he'd ever seen. The three females were fully covered, to the ankles and elbows; the males wore shirts and long pants.
He turned wordlessly and put his shirt back on.
"Into the water please. It should be plenty warm enough." The humans splashed in and two of the dwarves complied with only slight hesitation. The rest stared.
"Sir, don' we get a lesson'r somethin' afore we go in?" This from a younger male dwarf whose name he did not know.
"An introduction...? Very well. This is water. You are going to walk into it until it reaches your chest. Then we will begin learning to tread in it, and eventually to swim." He saw Rurik's grin from the corner of his eye.
"Swim, sir? Cap'n said naught bout swimmin'!" The dwarf's distress carried loud and clear.
"No, she did not, cadet. Would she feel a need to push you into going above and beyond? Or would she wait and see who showed the initiative, the drive, the inner strength to take that next step?" A level look that he shared with each dwarf. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence.
"Yessir."
"Very good, Mister..." A quizzical look.
"Freidrich, sir."
"Mister Freidrich. In you go." The dwarf turned, miserable but too proud to leave, and trudged into the pond. The rest followed with a predicable yelp from the men when a certain height of water was reached; both James and Rurik failed to stifle their snickers.
"Now, we shall start with floating..."
Post by: mixafix on July 16, 2010, 07:11:40 AM
Har lad there was a young sailor from Lor
Who bragged of free ale and some war
The ale turned out to be pale
So In war he did fail
And that was the end of him Sorr
Post by: RollinsCat on July 16, 2010, 12:47:31 PM
Belthic and his rowing partner Mikael heaved in, one helping the other, although it was still funny to see Mikael up in the air and clinging to the side of the boat as it rolled to allow Belthic's massive form. Two by two the rest got in and oars were placed and readied. He climbed in last, settling into the bow seat his rear had been warming for the last...by the Muse, it's been over two years already?
"Enough for today. Take us to shore, Mister Grelun." Marcus' protege began tapping the drum and calling out the commands as they rode the waves to the beach.
The boat secured, cadets began to scatter but James waved a hand for them to remain and stood by Rurik and Marcus. "I'm going to be out at sea for a few weeks. I am appointing Rurik and Marcus to lead the next two classes without me."
The two training assistants stood just a little taller. James continued. "I will ask that we keep this to ourselves, for now; Captain Trueaxe will get a full report on how well you both did after I debrief the class upon my return." Since I haven't told her about this yet.
The lie stung him a little. But, James was a lie, and who he was about to become was a lie, so..."Dismissed. Rurik and Marcus, good luck." Their chests puffed just a bit more; he heard their pride as his address shifted from student to associate and allowed a quick smile before turning away. His bare feet make sucking sounds in the wet sand. He didn't bother putting his boots back on.
Down the beach, out of sight, behind a dune, and a new -- and dry -- costume was donned. A horrible outfit but it bagged off him, concealing his shape and with a little stooping, his height.
The long walk to the city. A trip to the bank. His pack emptied into his chest and a battered guitar case pulled out, along with the light travel pack he'd pre-prepared.
Ducking between two buildings in an empty part of town, changing again under cover of invisibility. Some quietly incanted illusion, not done well but better than before; just some light work to shift his features a bit. The majority he did with makeup.
He fastened the straps of the case across his back and followed the city wall around to the gates, then out and toward the Kingdom of Rael.
Time to sing, Willie.
Post by: Script Wrecked on September 09, 2010, 02:42:55 PM
(1) cross link
Post by: akata on September 03, 2010, 11:59:48 AM
A CONTEST OF THE ARTS TO PROMOTE AND HIGHLIGHT THE BARDIC TALENTS OF LAYONARA
Angela Swann hereby announces a contest of the arts. This contest will be a forum of culture with prizes for the best contributions. Given the nature of the contest, acceptable contributions are limited to the written word, and the brush. Stories, plays, poetry, paintings and the like are valid. the subject of the art most of course be the fair city of Lor
Prizes will be handed out to three artists, following the ruling of a jury. Artists may enter with multiple contributions if they so choose but no artist may claim more than one prize. Prizes will be handed out by Angela Swann, following the decisions of the jury. These prizes are of fine quality, and picked out to promote bardic tradition.
Angela Swann hereby announces a contest of the arts. This contest will be a forum of culture with prizes for the best contributions. Given the nature of the contest, acceptable contributions are limited to the written word, and the brush. Stories, plays, poetry, paintings and the like are valid. the subject of the art most of course be the fair city of Lor
Prizes will be handed out to three artists, following the ruling of a jury. Artists may enter with multiple contributions if they so choose but no artist may claim more than one prize. Prizes will be handed out by Angela Swann, following the decisions of the jury. These prizes are of fine quality, and picked out to promote bardic tradition.
/**OOC: This contest will be held on the forum. Contributions should be posted in this thread. The time limit on this will be one RL month after which the jury consisting of other community members will make a ruling. Posting a contribution you ensure it is your own work.
To keep this fair towards the bards of the server then anyone entering must have at least 1 lvl of bard, DM:s are should they so desire, are welcome to enter the contest with NPC bards.
Prizes are the following:
1st Hood of the High Court's: helmet lvl reg 20 special properties, bonus spell slot bard lvl 2 and sorcerer lvl 2, enhancement bonus charisma +2, skill bonus bluff-gather information-intimidate-perform-persuade +3
2nd Dark's Light: cloak lvl reg. 18 special properties, armor bonus vs evil +3, bonus spell slot bard lvl 3 and 4, enhancement bonus charisma +1, improved aving throws will +2, only usable by bard good and neutral, skill bonus perform +4
3rd Platinum Harp: Harp lvl reg 9 special properties, bonus spell slot bard level 3 x2, skill bonus perform +7
OOC*/
Post by: Script Wrecked on September 09, 2010, 02:42:55 PM
They are also given a new signals for specifying dark elf incursions, and, perhaps more controversially, for indicating a Rael war host.
Post by: mixafix on September 09, 2010, 02:42:55 PM
Elsewhere recruitment remains at an all time high what with boxes of magical trinkets distributed among the command as thought useful.
A survey of the Docks identifed a number of ships that might quickly be converted should the need arise.
The now established cavalry army was brought up to full readiness.
A request for a low profile posture was given by the council to the Marshal though the situation however remains tense and all eyes watch to the north.
Trading markets fell away on the strength of the news.
Post by: Script Wrecked on August 26, 2010, 07:43:13 AM
She dispatches a junior official to the harbour master to get the count and capacity of sea vessels currently within the docks. She also dispatches messengers to summon the Marshal and Councilor Swann (if they haven't already been called for).
Post by: akata on August 30, 2010, 09:48:34 AM
Post by: Dezza on September 01, 2010, 07:30:29 AM
http://forums.layonara.com/calendar....&day=2010-9-12
Post by: RollinsCat on September 03, 2010, 11:59:48 AM
Song of the South
A book lies open on a table
The cover thick and leather bound
Outside a bell, a creaking cable
The cries of gulls echo around
A quill strokes across the fine cloth paper
Halo blush as the cloth drinks
A spot of wax from waning taper
Letters sprawl in midnight ink
The sun shone bright this windy day, we all shared a warming bliss
The capstone laid, they blew the trumpets and we named our lands Amiss
The letters march in long neat rows
Noting births and deaths and lives
A scorch mark sudden stops the prose
Although the journal yet survives
Mother's gone and both my aunts...the black elves burned the houses down...
Father is fighting with the others, there's almost no one left in town...
Once more marked by midnight tracks
Two hundred years and more are writ
Vellum damp with inked attacks
The south is scattered, violent, split
Hush my little baby, do not rock the cradle, quiet now my child or the bandits will find you
Hush my little baby, do not bang the ladle, do not play too wild or the bandits will find you
Flipping, faster, until a mark
Pressed between the pages
A new hand pens the story's arc
A tale for all the ages
We rode from Prantz before the sun and Jeoffrey led us out the gates
We're bound as far as we can go, to survey Dregar's southern straits
Sparse text of attrition, loss
A passage marked by hasty graves
Only two will fully cross
To see the misty blue-green waves
There is life still in this broken stone and power in the southern light
A sea to nurture growth and trade -- we'll call the south to reunite
A sketch of timbers pounded fast
A dock to skim the ocean's scorn
Pictures of gulls, a flag, a mast
But for a name, a town reborn
The sun was warm despite the wind and we all felt a strong rapport
The Galerights honored family and so they named our city Lor
Centuries script the pages, creased
Kings and Emperors rise and fall
Lor thrives under council, peace
Then a dwarf assaults a city wall
Heralds screamed it from the streets and Mother shuttered each window
Fright and anger on every face and they're gathering by the gates below
The writing takes a fearful turn
Tension humming from the script
From the north the news is stern
Once more a quill is quickly dipped
An army marches to the Mask -- once more into the breach, my friend
I'm praying for diplomacy but we'll see this through until the end
Quill tossed down and book left then
The air crackles with a pre-storm lull
A gust, a blank page flipped open
While through a window call the gulls
Whose hand will take the pen of state
From what will flow the next few verse
What future now does Lor await
A free city...or something worse?
Post by: Serissa on September 04, 2010, 10:34:05 AM
ANTHEM TO LOR
Arise, proud Queen of the Southern Seas, arise and greet the dawn!
The misty night that cloaked thy rest before the sun does flee.
The white gulls call and thy children rise, they rise to praise thy name!
Oh Lor, our home, our Mother dear, we'll keep you safe and free.
On high stone walls in the dark of night, we watched with weapons drawn.
And pondered those who raised the stones with sweat and blood for thee.
The Galerights called and your children rose, they rose to fight and live.
Oh Lor, our home, our Mother dear, they kept you safe and free.
Stand tall, proud Queen of the Sea of Mists, stand tall and greet the day!
Thy sheltered bay holds safe the ships of nations 'cross the sea.
Our will holds strong and our brotherhood. For thee we'll work and pray.
Oh Lor, our home, our Mother dear, we'll keep you safe and free.
Post by: Dezza on September 04, 2010, 07:27:15 PM
Post by: akata on September 06, 2010, 03:11:52 AM
The contest of the bardic art is now closed, winners will be announced shorty
//I'll contact the winners in a few days to arrange pick up of the prizes
Post by: RollinsCat on September 07, 2010, 08:04:00 PM
Rurik and Marcus stood facing Argali and himself, each cadet wearing a sheen of pride thick enough to flutter in the perpetual ocean breezes. They straightened as their first graduating class -- his second class, a lifetime ago -- came to attention behind them with the bright-eyed precision of youth.
They were so young, so ready to learn, so eager to defend. They were beautiful. They were - not...my class. His stomach twisted as they waited for James to speak. He'd almost forgotten the accent. He wasn't sure if his voice would hold steady enough to get out his little speech anyway.
"Rurik Stonebridge. Marcus DeHaven. It is my great pleasure to step aside --" liar, liar, LIAR! "-- and see you promoted to instructors of the Beacon Tower cadets in rowing and swimming." To his ears, his Corsain-flavored baritone was rusty, creaking. Old. He dug a little deeper to the center of his performer's heart, taking a half-step to stand by the Captain and fold his arms behind his back.
The dwarf and human came forward with broad smiles as Argali spoke. The ceremony was small, just Rurik and Marcus and those of their class who could attend. Norani and Dordis were there, and Belthic, taking up enough space to warrant his own government. Argali was saying something, and normally he enjoyed listening to her completely unique cadence and speech patterns, but his mind kept trying to slip out some backdoor. Not my class.
Rurik was standing in front of him -- why? Oh, handshake. He forced a closed-lip smile and offered his hand, felt the pressure of the dwarf's firm, calloused grip but nothing else. His gloves blocked that pivotal part of the shake, the pressing of flesh. It was such a little thing. He was wearing gloves. He had to wear gloves. He couldn't not wear gloves. The thought lingered until he felt a welling up around his organs and heart. It was despair, plain and simple - he could only stand there, letting Rurik's hand slip from his own, looking over the young men and women who wanted to learn a skill to help them defend their home. Young men and women whom he could no longer teach.
There was a moment like seams ripping inside his gut then a wall of emotion slammed him, a torrent, a box of cymbals thrown against his core. No class, no teaching, no Lor -- no visits home, no grabbing up Opal and Vanessa and planting Uncle Tashe smooches on their heads; no goodnight kisses to Tyr'riel. No stroking Ty's cheek with a bare hand, or Minu's, or anyone's. No touch. No intimacy. No running around with friends anywhere dangerous -- almost infecting Annwyl had shaken him far too badly to ever risk that again.
No freedom if he felt any responsibility for anyone at all.
No cure.
He staggered under a weight he'd never known, a lead robe over his soul. He almost ripped the heart and clef off of his neck to fling it into the ocean except he was starting to sink and had to reach for Argali instead. His gloved hand landed on her shoulder armor, solid and comforting and unyielding, and he closed his eyes and focused on breathing and the pits with what they thought of him right then. Argali looked up with eyes narrowed by confusion and concern, but she did not move except to plant her feet a little more. He leaned on her until his breathing came under control and the moment passed -- but the smothering weight remained.
There was an uncomfortable silence and he dug again, envisioning kicking the cymbals aside and bracing himself against his own multiple deceptions. He was James. He was James. The show must go on.
"I'm sorry, a dizzy spell -- I haven't had time to dine yet today." The lie rolled off his tongue. The cadets were satisfied. He forced himself completely straight and shook Marcus's hand next, content -- no, grateful -- that Argali was doing the talking.
A few words spoken after, a promise that any correspondence sent via the Captain would reach him. A prepared explanation of some kin in need of his assistance, and he'd of course return as soon as he could. More lies.
He slipped into the inn cloaked and hooded rather than stuff James into his pack in an alley under the cover of invisibility. Standing in front of a badly silvered mirror in the dim room, he unhooked the swords from his back and undid the frog closures of his shirt with agonizing slowness. Slipped the black silk over his shoulders and let it fall in a rustle, then undid the belt to the pants. His bandages were stark against the black and brown of the clothing and his skin.
His beard and mustache were the last to go, dispelled with a sharp flick that scattered the bristles like ashes across the washbasin. The deliberate stripping might have seemed lewd to an observer but his eyes gave up the truth.
It was goodbye.
Post by: akata on September 09, 2010, 02:42:55 PM
Congratulations to both AWR and Lana Poetr, and thank you for the contributions to the contest. The judges have ruled in favor of AWR as the winner of the bardic contest and he will be claiming first prize while Luna Poetr will take second place.
//either contact me in pm or tell and we can arrange the hand over of the prizes, thank you for the contributions, they are both great.
For clarity the contest winner was decided by a jury of 3 members and majority ruled
Post by: Dezza on September 12, 2010, 05:52:38 PM
Those in the public gallery look to him as he takes his position at the podium to address the Diet and the Mayors. A hush falls over the assembly and he speaks.
Honourable Mayors, Diet members and gathered public. Alas today I have the grave duty of reporting back the requests of the Ambassadors of Rael in the recent negotiations at Castle Mask.
It seems that those who attacked Rangley some months ago now have given Rael all the incentive he needs to look south yet again at our fair city of Lor. We have weathered many storms as a city together. I fear this storm that is gathering force is one we may not be able to withstand.
Lord Rael has made the following requests in order for Lor to show good Faith towards Rael. He insists that our actions to date have been inflammatory and full of anti Raelite sentiment and in fact went so far to accuse Lor of inciting racism towards the people of Rael, men, women, children or all races there.
Lord Rael demands to know whose side we are on in the war against the Dark Elves and insists there are only two sides, to support Rael or to support the Dark Elves. He believes that if we do not support him then we support the Dark Elves and he will have to take action to protect his southern border and his people.
He has included a lsit of gestures of good Faith that might prevent such a regretful action from Lord Rael to occur.
1. Lor must forbid all Dark Elves from entering its lands and expel existing ones or hand over any currently residing there to Lord Rael.
2. The Mercenary Steel who is believed to have participated or led the attack on Rangley is to be handed over to Rael if he tries to enter Lor.
3. Lor must put in place laws to protect Raels citizens against racist slander from Lors citizens of all castes.
4. Trade in any way shape or form shall not be impeded through Lor to Rael due to the war efforts Rael is engaging in.
Fulfillment of these steps will show Rael that the south is unified in purpose and he can dispatch the bulk of his armies to the north and west to deal with the dark elf threat.
He pauses as a long silence falls over all those present. The sheer weight of what is being asked settles like a doom over the heads of all as they consider the immensity of the ramifications if they fail to appease Rael while he is in a war footing.
Post by: akata on September 13, 2010, 03:25:30 PM
Mayors, Fellow Diet members. As the "friend" of a dark elf as Lord Afermine so diplomatically called it, then I will go first.
I wish for no war with Rael, and I believe it is in our own best interest to keep a friendly alliance with the ruler of Prantz, with that in mind I have considered the requests Lord Rael have imposed on us.
I have come to what I hope will be a reasonable solution to them, a solution that will allow us to keep Lord Rael as our good neighbor and business partner without trading away Lor's independence.
Quote:
1. Lor must forbid all Dark Elves from entering its lands and expel existing ones or hand over any currently residing there to Lord Rael. |
Quote:
2. The Mercenary Steel who is believed to have participated or led the attack on Rangley is to be handed over to Rael if he tries to enter Lor. |
Quote:
3. Lor must put in place laws to protect Rael's citizens against racist slander from Lor's citizens of all castes. |
One: we forbid any mention of Lord Rael's name and that of his subordinates, and from this day forth referee to them as those who must not be mentioned. Rael's fleet in Lor will of course be granted a clearance to speak the name at the dock site. But when moving around the city they will be submitted to the same laws as anyone else.
Two: we compile of list of words that cannot be used in association with Lord Rael and administrate a punishment should they ever be spoken out loud, with Lor being a port city who entertains people from all over Layonara we would of course have to rely on town criers to protect the people of Rael from any unwanted slander.
Quote:
4. Trade in any way shape or form shall not be impeded through Lor to Rael due to the war efforts Rael is engaging in. |
All that said then I believe we should give praise to Lord Rael, he has given us a great gift. He has shown us that he trust Lor to guard his realm from the south and from an army of Dark elves nonetheless. I propose we do our outmost to live up to the high expectations and rally our troops to guard not only Lor, but the trader's from Rael from any dark elf onslaught. The dark elves mastery of magic and treachery is well known, an arrangement with Spellgard to educate wizards and sorcerers to join our ranks would be beneficial as well as boosting the defenses of our cities.
Resumes her seat putting her feet up and folds her hands over her stomach her face utterly expressionless as she await her fellow diet members responses.
Post by: mixafix on September 13, 2010, 03:25:30 PM
Eventually the Twin mayors lead a motion to agree to all the raelite terms and it is narrowly passed.
A civil servant is appointed to oversee a Committee responsible for driving the initiative forward. A suitable budget for the operation is drawn from the Defence budget and put aside and turned over to the Committee.
With a grim and determined face the twin mayors announce a days respite from debate.
Post by: Xaltotun on September 13, 2010, 05:51:05 PM
Whit a load o' rubbish. The people who voted fur Rael's demands should be hung. Angela made a great debate aboot hoo tae handle them, yet thae weaklin's decided tae go wi' Rael. We isni Rael's whippin' dug, we is free people.
Nae wonder ra ordinary people dinni think they kin change therr lives, when ra cooncil disni listen. Shame on yez a'.
Some the listeners may have turned to look for the person shouting, but they would see no-one. It may also have been noted that the voice appeard to come from a place where there were no guards within easy striking distance. It may also have struck the more observant that the woman waited until she was certain to be able to deliver her message before the act was committed.
Post by: Dezza on September 13, 2010, 06:48:18 PM
A few other Diet members hurriedly leave, glancing nervously at the huddled group.
Soon the Mayors go to depart, glancing sadly, almost apologetically at those still remaining in the public gallery who are shaking their heads in disbelief.
Post by: Hellblazer on September 13, 2010, 07:53:13 PM
Post by: davidhoff on September 13, 2010, 09:56:00 PM
Post by: akata on September 14, 2010, 05:07:41 PM
A moment please, I am aware that it has been a long night. But I have a few things to say before the Diet retires.
For over thirty years I have served Lor, I fought for its independence, I bled and killed and made personal sacrifices because I believed Lor was worth it.
Takes a moment to let her gaze move Diet members and the mayors
And NEVER have I been so disappointed, How pitiful we must appear to Lord Rael, He rattles his axe and like misbehaving children you scatter and cower in your corners. You refuse to even stand up and look him in the eyes. In a month or two the "benevolent" Lord Rael will come with a new list of requests, you will be asked to forbid the use of magic or disband the army or crawl on your bellies. Inch by inch you will trade away your freedom all the while chanting Lord Rael's praise. I used to be proud to call myself a Lorite, they represented some of the best quality in people, proud as hawks and as protective of their cubs as a wolf pack... how you shamed it. Lady Alantha has not only served Lor along my side, she has again and again risked her life to save the free people of Layonara and you repay her sacrifice by ordering her to turn herself over to die by the hands of the former lapdog of the most cruel mass murderer to ever walk layonara's surface.
In the following silence Angela slips of her ring of office, and with a disgusted snort flips it up in the air letting it fall to the floor.
Consider this my resignation; I refuse to lift a muscle in defense of a people who won't even stand up for themselves. The troops currently training under Fenrir Thornaxe will be returning within the month and I will be expecting my gifts to the army to be delivered to Stort.
Should any true Lorites decide they want to live a life in freedom then I will be happy to arrange for ships to carry them to Stort. It might not have the grandeur of Lor, but they will at least get to watch their children and grandchildren grow up without having to march to Sulterio's tune.
Last she turns to face the twin mayors, her expression shifting between disgust and profound sadness.
What a sad and pathetic pair of leaders you've turned out to be, all your talk of independence and a free Lor... and yet at the first given chance you throw it all away. Don't you dare offering sad glares to the people that have expressed their disbelief. You alone traded away Lor's freedom you alone decided that Lor must live under the steel boot of Rael. The Diet can only overturn the mayors decision if they vote unanimous and yet you choose to willingly bend your knee and bow down to the "Benevolent" Lord Rael, I hope that whatever "mercy" he visits on Lor he will visit tenfold on you.
With a shake of head Angela turns her gaze back to the crowd seeking the familiar almond shaped ruby red eyes of Alantha
Let's go home..........
Post by: mixafix on September 15, 2010, 06:23:42 AM
However among the transient and weapon led adventuring class there is clear support for Angela and derision for the Council "shame"...."Lor the lapdog" ..
.."stand up" .."We can win"
The news and the debate carries to the street where quickly there is a gathering as a rowdy crowd becomes widespread disorder - as opposing factions voice their views. There is a strong pro Angela - pro action crowd that musters with weapons - displaying their willingness to stand firm!
The Council turns first to the town Guard and the beacon Dwarves for support. A message is sent for the Marshal - to show support and muster the army ready to restore order.
Post by: willhoff on September 15, 2010, 06:23:42 AM
I gotta feelin' she's gonna want this back *said with a slight grin*
*He throws a few chairs as he leaves to meeting to blow off some steam and heads outside to join the ever massing crowd of Lorites who are pro Angela pro action*
Post by: Hellblazer on September 15, 2010, 10:33:45 AM
Post by: Script Wrecked on September 15, 2010, 10:33:45 AM
Quote:
Originally Posted by mixafix  ... a strong pro Angela - pro action crowd that musters with weapons - displaying their willingness to stand firm! |
Quote:
Originally Posted by mixafix However among the transient and weapon led adventuring class there is clear support for Angela and derision for the Council "shame"...."Lor the lapdog" .. "stand up" .."We can win" |
The Captain of the Beacons arrives with a contingent of Beacon Tower guard, threading an azure and white line between the two factions.
"Citizens of Lor!" she barks.
However, in a moment of such high passions, who hears a lone voice? The captain signals the guard, who start beating their shields with their cudgels (their only weapon). They build up to such a din that any exchange between the two factions is all but drowned out.
Eventually the jeers and heckling subside, and the guards stop beating.
"Citizens of Lor!" she barks, only to have to dodge what would have otherwise been a well aimed projectile.
"The fate of Lor will not be decided by the mob!" the disdain in her voice clearly evident.
"Nor will it be decided by the well intentioned but otherwise non-representative group of individuals." She looks pointedly to the mainly-adventurers faction.
Addressing the adventurer types, she continues.
"You forrget yourr place. It iz up to the citizens of Lor to decide whetherr they accept the new set of demands frrom the norrth. Whether they accept zis in the knowledge that there will likely be the 'nother set of demands zome time zoon. That they accept those demands knowing that eventually, they will end up living like they arre in Prantz, and not in Lor, with all the orderr and frreedom that gives.
"It iz up to the citizens of Lorr to decide whetherr they stay to accept zis demand, or move to zome place wherre theirr frreedom iz assurred, like the place offerred by forrmer councillorr Swann. Wherre they will worrk as harrd as they do now to build the life forr themzelves.
"It iz up to the citizens of Lorr to decide whetherr the council has trruely represented theirr wishes in accepting these terrms frrom the norrth... orr not. And whetherr they will be needing yourr aszistance in the challenging times that would no doubt come.
"It iz up to them to decide." She turns and looks pointed to the mainly-citizens group.
"But it will not be done by the mob."
Post by: mixafix on September 15, 2010, 11:39:01 AM
The Town Guard, currently leaderless in the absence of Angela Swann, remain largely ineffective and uncommitted.
The mood of the town has not yet subsided and remains in the balance.
Post by: davidhoff on September 15, 2010, 12:12:58 PM
Fair and good words Captain *nods to Argali*. I hereto now call for a Vote of No-Confidence of the Twin Mayors! *He shouts*. These Mayors have acted against the best interest of Lor and do not have the pulse of its people. I call for an emergency vote to impeach the current Mayors and elect a new Mayor to answer Rael's demands. I hereby nominate Angela Swann as the new Mayor of Lor. *Pulls out a parchment* This is a petition of No-Confidence, sign it if you are with me and want to replace the Twin Mayors with new leadership. *passes the parchment around with a quill*
All Hail to Lor! All Hail to Freedom! *with that he stands down and mingles into the thick of the crowd*
Post by: akata on September 15, 2010, 05:32:41 PM
I bloody trained them better than this.
In short time she makes her way to the office of the town guard and without a knock barge in and walk to the front of the desk staring at the captain, an angry scowl planted on her face.
Why isn't the Town Guard out there putting an end to this nonsense? Snap to it Captain, and rally the men, have them move in and support the Beacon Guards and calm these people down before you end up with a few dead bodies. Gather them in front of the Hall and I'll address them there.
Post by: mixafix on September 15, 2010, 05:34:38 PM
Just another day in the big city.
Post by: Dezza on September 15, 2010, 05:54:02 PM
Within moments of Argali's arrival and speech there can be heard the sound of booted heels reverberating in perfect unison off the cobblestone streets around the Diet chamber. Soon around the corner three units of city militia jog in formation towards the assembled crowd. At their lead upon a large black horse rides the Marshal. Within moments of appraising the scene and seeing Argarli and the crowds simmering discontent she proceeds to bark short official orders that are taken up for seargants in their ranks and then onto the regular militia who peel off and soon form a barricade between the chamber and the crowd. Sasha rides up to Argali slowly allowing the crowd to begin to feel nervous at the show of force around them.
Sasha dismounts then turns also to the crowd.
"You are all hereby ordered back to your homes. Lor will not tolerate unrest or armed mobs in its streets. Those who do not do so will be arrested."
Post by: akata on September 16, 2010, 06:29:43 AM
With a humorless smile Angela makes her way through the crowd to stand besides Sasha and Argali
interesting night wouldn't you say? You hopefully don't mind if I say a few words to the gathering Marshal. Treats usually tend to aggravate people on the edge rather than calm them.
Without waiting for an answer Angela turns to face the gathered crowd
Good people of Lor, calm down and give me a moment to explain.
As I stated before the Diet then let me state before you as well. "I DON'T WANT A WAR WITH RAEL" My proposal was a way for Lor to agree to the requests and still maintain its independence. In its wisdom the Diet and the mayors decided that it wasn't enough, they feared Rael would still attack because his demands wasn't met by the letter, or they simply wanted to met them and put Lor back into the fold under the wings of Prantz as part of Rael's kingdom. If you do not agree with the decision then remember it on the next election, but don't belittle yourself or Lor by taken up arms against your own council, the result will be devastating.
Not only will lorite blood flow in the streets but Lord Rael will quickly take advantages of the situation and move in to "secure" Lor all for its own protecting. And he will have won and no one will lift a finger because we brought it on our own heads.
I am flattered by the show of support and thrilled to see Lor haven't lost its spirit, but if I agree to take up the mantle of leadership as Tralek have suggested. Not only will I be condemning us all to death, Lord Rael will be seeing a dark elf puppet taken the throne. And I would be doing the very same thing as I accuse Lord Rael of, rubbing people of their free will
In the following silent Angela inclines her head in a show of gratitude towards the assembled people and their willingness to risk the lives for a greater cause.
I want you all to go home and think this over. Consider what Lord Rael is requesting. Consider if you believe he is done making "requests". Remember the recent meeting in Castle Hilm to aid the war effort against the Green Dragon Cult. Lord Rael would only consider helping.... consider IF Lor agreed to FULLY hand over control to him. Now he claims there is a war against dark elves, and yet no one have dared to question if it is even true....never mind the rumors of an alliance between Prantz and the Green Dragon Cult, never mind Lord Raels have more forces in the deep than above ground. Could it possibly be, that the supposed attack force is nothing but dark elves captured by his forced BELOW and put on display to sell a lie?
Lord Rael claims to have no fear of the Green Dragon Cult or the King of dragon Fisterion, yet at the capture of a few dark elves he's whipped into a frenzy.
Takes a moment to allow her words to sink in then continues
I don't want a war, I don't want to condemn Lor's people to death at the hand of a power greedy mad man.
Today your right to decide who you want to trade with was bargain away, there will come a time when you like me will be forced to look into the eyes of a loved one and decide if you want to kill that person in order to stay in Rael's good grace. The Diet and the Mayors made that decision for me, and to back it up they proclaim it is for the greater good. One day they will decide it for you as well, because if they don't Rael will make that choice for them. That is not freedom, it is slavery the only difference is the length of the chain. Rael will continue to shorten it request by request till he grows tired of pretending to care and demands instead.
The people who voted for Rael control believe they will be rewarded, that Rael is benevolent and merciful. What a joke.. Rael took Prantz by force to "save" it and when the daughter of the king dared to proclaim that she was the rightful ruler she was hung, one of the people supporting her was my wife, Rael's forces killed her and left her for dead two days in a cell. As an act of merci Rael had his clerics revive her and she was forced to watch the rightful heir dangle from the end of a rope, all the while the people of Prantz cheered for Rael the just....
Shakes her head as if to clear it of bad memories
Go home, consider if you want you live in constant fear. You might gain a few months or even years by what the Diet is doing now, but make no mistake they will in the end be taking their orders from Rael. The influence you have now by voting for your Diet and your Mayors will be gone. In a few days the ships from Stort will make dock, anyone who wishes to escape the steel boot of Rael will be granted a place. As Lady Argali said, it won't be a life in luxury and indolence. Rebuilding a life will take hard work and effort, but it will be your life and your decision.
Takes her time to mumble a few words to Argali and Sasha, nod to the captain of the Town Guard giving him the signal to break the gathering up.
Post by: RollinsCat on September 16, 2010, 01:53:13 PM
Do you see what's happening
We've slid a few feet north my friends
But I'm not ready to say the end is nigh
There's time to draw a stronger line
Time to confer and speak our mind
Time to consider the next demand's reply
There's nothing left to us but our own determination
There is no peace for a pound of flesh taken as receipt
The choice is yours to roll over or make some preparations
Draw the line and stand behind or hang head in defeat
We are the line in the sand, my friends
We are the line in the sand
Too many have forgotten that it's there
Or wish it would just disappear
But we are the line in the sand
Do you feel our eyes on you
Do you feel the winds of change
Do you know on whom we place our bet?
Do you hear our feet plant firm
No more sliding, no giving in
We took a hit but we've not fallen yet
We are the line in the sand, my friends
We are the line in the sand
Too many have fear that it's there
Or wish it would just disappear
But we are the line in the sand...
In his intermittent singing the man exudes calm and reason as much as he is able, trying to inspire the same in the citizens through his music. He sometimes takes out a journal to jot down chords or notes that seemed to work better than others or make some other observation. Provided his attempts at calming are not challenged, he plays until the streets are clear. He is out boosting Lor's morale as much as he is able over the next week, still making notes about which songs and which interpretations seem to work best and which of his efforts to radiate that calm through song have had the most success.
Post by: Hellblazer on September 16, 2010, 02:30:03 PM
Post by: cbnicholson on September 20, 2010, 09:53:10 AM
//This is an open invitation to any of the new Knights of the Wyrm to rp in the forums on the situation in Lor.
Post by: akata on September 20, 2010, 03:44:26 PM
Post by: Hellblazer on September 20, 2010, 04:49:21 PM
Post by: Dezza on September 20, 2010, 08:27:01 PM
Despite the reassurances of the city's Mayors that Rael will not invade nerves are high around the city and many already fearing the worst begin to horde supplies, many merchants make for the docks attempting to secure ships to move their goods out of Lor until the troubles are over. Soon looting begins in several districts and con men and opportunists begin to work the streets feeding the fear and paranoia already building in the city.
The militia by evening are into full swing, trying to deal with the sudden fear and unrest now plaguing the city.
By the docks guards are employed to protect the ships as people and particularly wealthy merchants try to secure them for their own purposes.
Conflicting rumours spread through the city like wildfire, Rael is already attacking, Rael will be here soon, Rael's army will protect Lor from the Dark Elves, Rael will enslave all the Lorites and so on.
The one rumour that seems to spring from nowhere and touch the heart of many is that 'Angela Swann has given up and is abandoning her people'.
Certainly those who see her ships at anchor in the harbour seem to think this is the case. Others know better, but, rumours have a power of their own.
Post by: Script Wrecked on September 21, 2010, 09:50:54 AM
"All's well."
Post by: RollinsCat on September 21, 2010, 10:00:54 AM
At some point he heads for the docks and speaks to Angela when he finds her*.
*pm sent
Post by: willhoff on September 21, 2010, 10:29:52 AM
Later in the night he is also seen ducking into the newly set up Rofirenite bivouac to speak with the new knight captain*
//pm's sent to Dezza and CB.
Post by: cbnicholson on September 21, 2010, 05:39:40 PM
//pm sent
Post by: akata on September 21, 2010, 03:19:03 PM
When you enter Lor you will pass by the statue of our founders. The Galeright twins, allow me to quote a few words from the inscription on the statue. "we rebuilt the town by hand, with whatever equipment we could find or build. The motivation and skill to withstand the swarms of orcs, bandits, and giants that crashed against our walls gave us the strength and perseverance to complete rebuilding in record time. With each assault of our swiftly rising city, the Galeright twins would mount the walls along with us, their new townsmen, and sweep aside the assailants. When those walls were completed, we looked to the twins to name our new home. The twins named the city Lor, after their beloved father. Lor has stood since that day, a testament to both dreams and perseverance."
Where is that Lor today? Where is the pride, where is the trustworthiness that Lor has always been famous for? Look to your Council and see how they trade your rights away out of fear.... Will Lord Rael have less of an army next year? Or the year after? Look at your merchants and how they hide their goods at the fear of war, look at the Mayors claiming Lord Rael will not attack. No? Then why does he keep gathering men north of Castle Mask? If Lord Rael had promised independence for his demands I would have considered it, but he has shown his true face. He wants Lor in his pocket and he won't rest before that happens. I will not stay and fight, I will not stay to protect a council that demands the life of my loved one in exchange for a leash around my neck. My offer for a life in freedom is for everyone, but it will not be here as long as the Council refuses to even try to keep Lor's freedom.
//a few things
Quote:
Originally Posted by willhoff *Vrebel strolls down to the docks to get a glimpse of the newly arrived ships. He looks on with a bit of sorrow as fellow Lorites make thier way onto the ships headed for Stort. He then makes haste to the Marshall's office with a determined look on his face. Later in the night he is also seen ducking into the newly set up Rofirenite bivouac to speak with the new knight captain* |
Quote:
Originally Posted by cbnicholson The Knights of the Wyrm pack up and move the leading edges of Rael's Army closer to Lor and the patrols resume. Occasionally, their captain makes his way into Rael's army proper and is seen attempting to speak to the dwarvish captains of the newly arrived units. |
Post by: Hellblazer on September 21, 2010, 04:32:28 PM
Post by: miltonyorkcastle on September 21, 2010, 04:47:36 PM
Post by: akata on September 21, 2010, 05:10:29 PM
Quote:
Originally Posted by Hellblazer // a horse can run at 45-50 mps for quite some time. If pushed it will run until it gets hurt or dies. So if Vrebel actually pushes his horse to it's limit he could make the trip in 8 hours. Faster if he gets Tray to cast a haste spell on the horse itself. IG that doesn't work due to how the horse is coded, but out of the box, the horse should still be hasted by a spell I think. |
I did a quick search on horses and speed and found this
"Horse Speed in MPH - How fast is your horse going?
Horses speed varies with their stride length, body build, and other factors, but here is a basic idea of how fast-- in miles per hour-- horses move at their various gaits:
Walk: Roughly 3-4 MPH. A pleasure show horse can go as slow as 2 mph. Gaited horses-- who do not trot-- can do a 'running walk' as fast as 15 mph.
Trot: The trot is roughly 8-10 MPH. Again, a shorter striding horse could trot slower, and a horse with a long stride could move faster.
Canter/Lope: 10-17 MPH.
Gallop: This depends on the horse's condition and athletic ability. Some horses are not built to run fast an may only do a fast canter at their best; however, the gallop is about 30 mph. Thoroughbreds, which are bred for running distance but not speed, have been clocked at over 40 MPH. Quarter horses, bred and raced for short distances at speed, can reach 50 MPH in short bursts according to the AQHA's website."
also dug up a few of the most astonishing races horses have done
1886: Frank Hopkins (of Hidalgo movie fame) a military dispatch rider, rode a stallion named Joe 1800 miles from Galveston, Texas, to Rutland, Vermont, in 31 days (average 58 miles/day). Joe finished in excellent condition, after traveling no more than 10 hours/day.
1892: Prussian and Austro-Hungarian soldiers raced from Berlin to Vienna. The winner rode 350 miles in 72 hours. The horse died, as did 25 others out of 199 who started.
1920: The first U.S. Cavalry Mounted Service Cup race averaged 60 miles/day for five days, carrying up to 245 lb. of rider and gear.
Modern Endurance Rides: The 100-mile rides are run by the same horse and rider in under 24 hours-- but there are usually 8 vet checks, where the horse is required to rest for 30 minutes, as well as pass a health check. That's 4 hours spent resting; also, the rider may get off and jog with their horse partway. These horses are also in top condition, and must pass many vet exams.
however I dislike comparing a fantasy world to our real world but the examples do prove that regardless of horse change then you can't cover 400 in one day much less 8 hours
the more simple approach would be to use the speed from DnD which have the fastes horse moving at 48 miles per day, granted you can force it to continue to move beyond the normal 8 hour but the horse will start to take damage
Movement :: d20srd.org
even with haste and endurance I fail to see how you will cover the 400 miles on horse or foot in one day
Post by: Hellblazer on September 21, 2010, 05:39:40 PM
Quote:
Originally Posted by akata //not to take focus away from this thread by turning it into horse speed. but ehmm what are you basing those facts on? I did a quick search on horses and speed and found this "Horse Speed in MPH - How fast is your horse going? Horses speed varies with their stride length, body build, and other factors, but here is a basic idea of how fast-- in miles per hour-- horses move at their various gaits: Walk: Roughly 3-4 MPH. A pleasure show horse can go as slow as 2 mph. Gaited horses-- who do not trot-- can do a 'running walk' as fast as 15 mph. Trot: The trot is roughly 8-10 MPH. Again, a shorter striding horse could trot slower, and a horse with a long stride could move faster. Canter/Lope: 10-17 MPH. Gallop: This depends on the horse's condition and athletic ability. Some horses are not built to run fast an may only do a fast canter at their best; however, the gallop is about 30 mph. Thoroughbreds, which are bred for running distance but not speed, have been clocked at over 40 MPH. Quarter horses, bred and raced for short distances at speed, can reach 50 MPH in short bursts according to the AQHA's website." also dug up a few of the most astonishing races horses have done 1886: Frank Hopkins (of Hidalgo movie fame) a military dispatch rider, rode a stallion named Joe 1800 miles from Galveston, Texas, to Rutland, Vermont, in 31 days (average 58 miles/day). Joe finished in excellent condition, after traveling no more than 10 hours/day. 1892: Prussian and Austro-Hungarian soldiers raced from Berlin to Vienna. The winner rode 350 miles in 72 hours. The horse died, as did 25 others out of 199 who started. 1920: The first U.S. Cavalry Mounted Service Cup race averaged 60 miles/day for five days, carrying up to 245 lb. of rider and gear. Modern Endurance Rides: The 100-mile rides are run by the same horse and rider in under 24 hours-- but there are usually 8 vet checks, where the horse is required to rest for 30 minutes, as well as pass a health check. That's 4 hours spent resting; also, the rider may get off and jog with their horse partway. These horses are also in top condition, and must pass many vet exams. however I dislike comparing a fantasy world to our real world but the examples do prove that regardless of horse change then you can't cover 400 in one day much less 8 hours the more simple approach would be to use the speed from DnD which have the fastes horse moving at 48 miles per day, granted you can force it to continue to move beyond the normal 8 hour but the horse will start to take damage Movement :: d20srd.org even with haste and endurance I fail to see how you will cover the 400 miles on horse or foot in one day |
Also different result over the web by search of specific breeds
The american quater horse have been clocked at 50-55 MPH
The American mustangs are clocked around 40 mph
The Spanish pure breed of mustang have also been clocked at around 40 mph
Arabian steeds are also clocked around 40-45 mph but they can hold the speed for a much longer time than the quarter horse or the mustangs. They were the principal choices for the long distances races that were being held in the Arabian desert due to their extraordinary constitution and speed.
I've found other references over the web if you go by type of horse
Quote:
Originally Posted by akata the more simple approach would be to use the speed from DnD which have the fastes horse moving at 48 miles per day, granted you can force it to continue to move beyond the normal 8 hour but the horse will start to take damage Movement :: d20srd.org even with haste and endurance I fail to see how you will cover the 400 miles on horse or foot in one day |
Reading the movement link you gave it seems more like at a walk pace and not at a running pace. But anyways
Post by: Dezza on September 21, 2010, 07:10:15 PM
Quote:
Originally Posted by cbnicholson The Knights of the Wyrm pack up and move the leading edges of Rael's Army closer to Lor and the patrols resume. Occasionally, their captain makes his way into Rael's army proper and is seen attempting to speak to the dwarvish captains of the newly arrived units. //pm sent |
//I may have misread your intention, but to clarify, Raels army have not moved from Castle Mask and there are no Rofireinites at Castle mask at present. They are at Prantz or Fort Hold.
Post by: Script Wrecked on September 21, 2010, 07:38:07 PM
Quote:
Originally Posted by Hellblazer That is also what I said, depending if Vrebel is willing to push the horse past it's limit, |
FYI, you can't push something past its limit; you push something to its limit (and then it dies). Nor can you give more than 100%; if you only have $100, you can't give $110.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Hellblazer depending if he gets pit stops where he can change horses like the poney express used to do, he could do it. |
Quote:
Originally Posted by Hellblazer Not counting spells that could be placed on the horse like extra strength, constitution, extended haste etc |
Haste doesn't last that long.Quote:
Originally Posted by Hellblazer Reading the movement link you gave it seems more like at a walk pace and not at a running pace. But anyways |
BTW everyone, its Marshal, one "el".
Hope this helps,
Also, can this discussion of horse travel rates be moved out of the Lor thread, to its own thread, starting at this post (excepting Dezza's post, including mine)?
Regards,
Script Wrecked. //
Post by: willhoff on September 21, 2010, 07:57:07 PM
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dezza //I may have misread your intention, but to clarify, Raels army have not moved from Castle Mask and there are no Rofireinites at Castle mask at present. They are at Prantz or Fort Hold. |
//to make things simple per the above and the horse speed argument please edit my previous post to omit the part were Vrebel rides to meet with the Rofi knight. He does speak with the Marshal though
Post by: davidhoff on September 21, 2010, 09:55:28 PM
Post by: Dezza on September 22, 2010, 12:02:26 AM
Post by: Cinnabar on September 22, 2010, 12:54:43 AM
"You each have come along well, some better than I could have hoped. * he gives a subtle nod to Dordis, Gunder, and finally one to Ginny Reath, accompanied by a smile whose thinness is belied by the clear pride in his eyes * Truth be told, I've been an intermittent, and therefore poor, instructor, as ... events and other ... work have kept pulling me away from this charge. Unfortunately, the current situation unfolding up near Castle Mask may overtake us, be we as ready as we'd like or not."
He pauses a moment to collect his thoughts as he clears his throat and winds back up to a more familiar barking timbre.
"That said, I'll offer some advice as to the role of massed archers in battle: Interdiction, in a word. A wounding shot that hits beats a kill shot that misses -every- time. Contrary to what you may have heard in story or song, the purpose of battle isn't to slaughter an enemy wholesale but to defeat him. Every member of an enemy force that can be made to cut and run can demoralize his remaining comrades to the point where they cut an run as well; battles develop like a dam breaking. If this comes to a fight, you may be called upon to help ensure that the enemy breaks before the city does."
Caerwyn looks each of the cadets in the eye, as he did on their very first session so long ago, before his voice softens again.
"If I can be back before this situation boils over, I will. Until then, keep your skills sharp, do as the Beacon Guard tells you, and keep practicing snap shooting so you can acquire and hit targets in the blink of an eye. If this -does- come to battle, for Gods' sake keep your heads down except to shoot, have faith in your comrades and commanders, and maintain your nerve. You're all good cadets and with luck you won't have to become soldiers too soon; if you do though, I know you will do Lor proud."
He offers them a warm smile as he turns to leave. Pulling up his hood, he allows his expression to darken privately as he mutters to himself alone:
"Dear Gods I hope they listened and can be ready in time."
Post by: mixafix on September 22, 2010, 09:46:58 AM
The office of Rael affairs was out in force today posing for street artists with news of their latest success. A Dark Elf has been detained and held at Lor prison. Local guards had apprehended a 'cowled figure' responsible for the murder of a local tax collector and on searching him they removed his hood to discover his dark elven features.
They immediately informed the office of Rael Affairs who were quick to act. In a statement Investigator Smith intimated that the dark Elf risked expulsion from Lor after the courts were finished with him. He further warned that this should be a lesson to any other dark Elves trying to enter Lor.
Post by: cbnicholson on September 22, 2010, 09:52:19 AM
Post by: Script Wrecked on September 22, 2010, 10:21:04 AM
Quote:
Originally Posted by cbnicholson Daniel returns to Fort Hold where his unit is garrisoned after full day of riding Edward hard... |
Post by: miltonyorkcastle on September 22, 2010, 11:34:20 AM
Post by: cbnicholson on September 22, 2010, 12:42:20 PM
Post by: Dezza on September 22, 2010, 07:27:13 PM
"Welcome to Fort Hold Captain, you and those Knights who came with you can join the rest of the men at barracks at the eastern quarter outside the Fort. There is precious little space inside at present." He turns and indicates the dozen dark elf bodies hanging from nooses above the northern wall of the fort.
"Interesting decorations arent they. There are more coming in within the next 24 hours so stay close at hand." He turns to leave then turns back to Daniel.
"Oh, one more thing, Dont think you can ride into this Fort and undermine my command. The knights are here to protect my people so they can do their duty. Nothing else unless asked for. If you wish to ride with the Raelites then you apply to the Fort Commander and use the proper channels of command. You are dismissed Captain."
He gives a firm no nonsense glance at Daniel then turns back to two members of the Principium who approach him across the busy courtyard of the Fort.
Post by: Script Wrecked on September 22, 2010, 08:20:32 PM
Quote:
Originally Posted by cbnicholson //He's not in or near Lor but south of Prantz folks with Rael's army..relax. The hard riding was his visiting various Raelian units in the area, not a marathon ride to Castle Mask and back. I misunderstood initially where Rael's army was, my posts should be here if a moderator would be so kind as to move them. |
The as-the-crow-flies distance between Prantz and Castle Hold is ~250 miles; That's still a journey that cannot be accomplished by a "hard days riding". //
Post by: cbnicholson on September 23, 2010, 09:04:44 AM
Post by: RollinsCat on September 23, 2010, 10:01:42 AM
*Sometime later, when he catches up to Argos, Vrebel, Tralek, Ysgraine, and Argali, he sheepishly admits "success", blushing a little - and that the numbers on the note were in fact an order for supplies for a fishing boat, the Angel's Eye, with no hidden meanings or nefarious purposes that he could find.*
Post by: Dezza on October 02, 2010, 06:21:17 PM
The force sitting on the border between Lor and Rael will be broken up and utilised for merchant protection duties between Castle mask and any other destination inside Rael.
A missive arrived in Lor and is delivered to the Diet and the Mayors.
"Esteemed members of the Diet of Lor, Honoured Mayors of the Port City,
In light of your recent agreements to secure your own city against the predations of the Dark Elf threats that blight our lands we further, and with trepidation, request that you allow for one further item of importance to be carried forth in your new enlightenment and in order to further the recent historic agreements we have reached.
Lord Rael the Benevolant has committed to providing all merchants safe passage to and from any destination in Rael. Alas this does not however cover the journey from Lor to Castle Mask and to the border where his troops await. He respectfully asks then that you commit your newly formed army to the duty of providing safe passage from Lor to that location where Rael troops will ensure their safety for the rest of the way.
As always Rael assures the people of Lor and their leaders that should their army be unsatisfactory to the task his men stand ever ready to lend a helping hand.
Yours in the interest of peace and security for every Raelite,
Lord Fadren Arkassas of Prantz
Post by: mixafix on October 03, 2010, 05:59:47 PM
In other news the twin mayors survived an assassination attempt which left them shaken but not stirred. Two assassins were killed at the scene. The Militia are not looking for any other raiders. The twin Mayors have cancelled a number of public engagements amid rumours further attempts are feared.
Meanwhile the Office of Rael Affairs has not been idle and announced that following sightings of the individual known as Steel in the dock area agents had been flooded into the area and coordinated actions with other Lor officials in a bid to apprehend Steel. A spokewoman said no stone was left unturned and citizens can rest assured the area is now Steel free.
Post by: mixafix on October 07, 2010, 06:40:52 PM
At present Lor officials from the office of prosecutions are preparing a brief for laws to be voted on by the Diet and the Mayors in order to meet Raels request for an anti-racial law to be passed in Lor.
Post by: Script Wrecked on October 07, 2010, 11:16:28 PM
She reinforces the need for vigilance in these times of uncertainty, and commends them for their duty to kin and countrymen.
The [POST=1701531]night time[/POST] patrols are given more variance, and the use of the two newest signals reaffirmed.
Post by: RollinsCat on October 08, 2010, 09:54:27 AM
Ladies and Gentlemen of the Diet, and of Lor.
Something has crossed my ears so disturbing it is all I can do to believe it.
The Office of Rael Affairs is baiting our citizens to violate a demand from the north, and the Diet is apparently supporting this - a deliberate attempt to find reasons to jail Lor's citizens.
Could this really be true? At first I refused to think that our elected officials, trying so hard to balance demands with the freedoms that are our birthright, would put their stamp to such deception. But, it seems, it is true.
When did we shift from maintaining Lor as a beacon of opportunity to trying to find reasons to put productive citizens in jail? Is it not bad enough that a person's right to speak their mind has been curtailed? Now you must hunt down any opinion that violates the demands you so easily capitulated to?
Why do we need to fear you, the people we trust to make decisions? This is nothing short of a betrayal of the entire city.
Rumors have circulated for years of other places where people are "disappeared", and the loss chalked up to crime and the patrols and laws tightened even more - but people still vanish and families are left to wonder. Should we be expecting that from you now that you are no longer content that the demands are being met, and must try to incarcerate your own people to prove it?
An infusion of spine is needed in our Diet. You have already lost one of your strongest members, who could not countenance your inability to even attempt a counteroffer, and now this.
Let this be a reminder: Lor has existed for over a millennium. Every time you come through the gates of this city you pass under the stony gaze of the Galerights. Can you do that this day and feel proud of what you have let happen? The pride of southern Dregar now hunts it's own people and shushes dissent as proudly as any dictatorship. I am ashamed.
If you are to begin any sort of reparations, cease the "traitor" hunts immediately. You have ears on the street, the demand is known, and as you have been informed, is not being violated. Let that be enough. Redoubling efforts to root out what doesn't exist is beyond harassment and I think the good people of Lor have enough to worry about without wondering if the next person they speak to will be making a little mark by their name.
Yours in a Free Lor,
Andrew Reid
Post by: Dezza on October 09, 2010, 12:07:18 AM
1/ The infamous mercenary Steel is wanted by Lor authorities and outlawed in the lands controlled by Lor.
2/ No Dark Elves are permitted within the city of Lor nor any lands controlled by Lor.
3/ Merchants will be escorted under guard to the border with Rael by Lor troops.
4/ Anti racism laws are currently in draft to be presented to the Diet and the Mayors.
5/ Lor has sent word to Rael that the borders will remain open and trade be allowed to travel freely into and out of Rael.
6/ Angela Swann has politely been asked to ensure her 'friend' does not visit Lor for the duration of the conflict.
7/ The Mayors have allowed the Office of Rael Affairs to investigate to ensure that Lor is abiding by the agreements with Rael.
Post by: mixafix on October 15, 2010, 02:31:13 PM
Post by: Dezza on October 15, 2010, 07:43:16 PM
Post by: Script Wrecked on October 18, 2010, 01:13:13 AM
As part of her [POST=1706269]tour[/POST] of the Beacon Towers, Argali visits the outlying dwarven communities. She inquires as to their general state, and how they fared during the [THREAD=281265]mobilisation[/THREAD].
She listens to all they have to say, and promises to take any requests to the dwarven council or to the Diet as required.
However, should they look to her for reassurance that these troubles are over, she shakes her head. In dwarven(1):
"This brings her to the crux of her visit. These events have served to highlight the precarious position we live in. These events unfolded and we were unprepared for them and their potential consequences. With this lull, we have been given a second chance. A time to prepare should the unthinkable happen.
"We cannot shirk this responsibility, we cannot deny the circumstance of our peril. We owe our families and our kin a choice to be made in calmer times with clear heads.
"What..." full of emphasis, "What would we do if the Under Dog of Prantz over ran Lor and its out lying areas?"
She looks pointedly to those she addresses. She pauses long for them to consider her point, for her words to seep through any denial that they may have conditioned themselves to regarding the real circumstance in which they live.
"Would we live under the tyranny of Rael?" Again she pauses long for the words to register.
"For, you can be sure, that while all races might be 'equal' under his 'benevolence', you can be sure that some races... one race, would be not quite as equal as others. At best, one race would be finding themselves at the bottom of the social hierarchy, given all the jobs that no-one else is wanting to be doing. At worse... the mines... the Deep... the All'ra.
"So, for those of you who find this unacceptable, what choices do we have?
"To fight the forces of the Tyrant on the battlefield. There is much honour to be had in this. But we have seen the size of the forces the Under Dog commands. This would be the 'quick' option, no?
"We could rally to Lor for the final stand... But what if the Lorians do not wish to fight?
"To make the guerrilla warfare on the forces of the Tyrant. There is also much honour to be had in fighting the superior forces and holding them at bay. This would require much guile and cunning. It would also have much hardship; living on the margins, on the periphery, always being hunted. This is the 'shadow' option, no?
"Or, we leave this battlefield. We yield the ground to the enemy until we are in the position to take the definitive action.
"We are kin. We can take time. We can be just as patient as the Under Dog. More so. We are the true stone. In time, we rise like the mountain. We have purpose. We are forthright. We are unyielding. We are... relentless."
She looks about those gathered, once more giving pause to her words.
"So, to where would we withdraw while we are rebuilding? Is there any place on Dregar that is far enough from the Under Dog's reach to be making it safe?"
She looks about those gathered, genuine in her pause for replies.
"Perhaps further afield, then, with other kin of Layonara? There are the Ulgrids on Mistone, Bloody Gate in eastern Alindor, the Taur'en Hills of western Alindor, and Rhugal's Realm. Each of those have their own particularities of circumstance. With whom would you join, to lend axe and hammer?"
She pauses again, allowing time for those gathered to sift through each option.
"Or perhaps another place, a place where the kin have not made the home? Perhaps the Stort on Alibor. The Councillor Swann has already made the invitation. Father Mithril resides there, and makes the Academy there.
Argali pauses once more, this time to allow for the monumentally of all the options to sink in, to be ordered into some sort of semblance of understanding, and not to overwhelm the thoughts of those who had not sought such poignant and far reaching questions.
"She awaits your decision, a decision that we have to make, to make soon, while there are not troops pounding at the door, while our houses are not being burnt to the ground, while our kin are not being dragged away.
"We have time to make this decision, but it is a decision that we must make!"
-----
When Argali returns to Lor, she calls an informal meeting of the local dwarven council members and repeats the same, perhaps mindful of avoiding any undue [POST=1706255]attention[/POST].
(1) without her "Common" accent
Post by: Dezza on October 18, 2010, 02:39:46 AM
Word reaches authorities in Lor of no less than four camps being established across Lors borders each with at least 1500 to 3000 Rael soldiers and provisions for many more.
Nerves start to fray yet again, troubled whispers start to filter through the lands controlled by Lor. now whats going on. Especially since any requests for information as to the odd troop locations fall on deaf ears.
Post by: Filatus on October 18, 2010, 03:59:47 PM
"479 gold coins.. gone, much like miss Swann." Hardragh snaps his fingers. "With Angela Swann gone, this place is like a ship without captain. I do not know who presumes to lead these men, but tis clear something is in need of change. Hells, how is this guard supposed to defend this city when they can not even protect the coin purse of -innocent- travellers."
He wets his lips and shows an amused smile for a moment, starting to enjoy where his rant is taking him and addresses bystanders. "Perhaps tis time for some fresh faces in the guard, aye? Surely, it can not be denied that thievery is going unchecked these days. Something needs to change!"
// If there is the chance for him to affect the reaction of the crowd. Both bluff and persuade would have been 25 at the time when his coins were stolen and he got mugged. (was prepared for a persuade check with a magic vendor when it happened ;))
Post by: mixafix on October 19, 2010, 03:55:27 AM
This was followed shortly thereafter by declarations of support for a firm defence of lor in times of trouble by many Dwarven organisations.
In other news concerns about Rael troop movements left shops empty of foodstuffs, weapons, and horses.
Post by: Dezza on October 19, 2010, 04:15:08 AM
Her second reaction is to shrug and send a squad to ensure the peace is not disturbed any further and to politely ask Hardragh to stop by her office for some friendly sparring.
The burly sergeant receiving the order grins suddenly and touches a large purple and black bruise the Marshal had given him earlier in a friendly 'sparring' practice bout.
Post by: Script Wrecked on October 19, 2010, 07:49:21 AM
Quote from: mixafix
Prompted by a recent disturbance in the dock area fanned by a few individuals over concerns about over personal security - the Diet announced the appointment of Diet Member Ogrefeller Orebasher as head of the Militia within Lor city.
The Captain of the Beacons offers Councillor Orebasher all and any support he might require administering, commanding, instructing, or drilling the Lor Guard.
During this time, she keeps an eye on the Lor Guard to ensure the discipline and training the former Councillor Swann instilled into the Guard is not lost.
Post by: Filatus on October 19, 2010, 09:45:13 AM
Not being one to overstay his welcome, he is soon leaving port with a ship.
Post by: Dezza on October 28, 2010, 03:32:48 AM
Requests for intentions and reasons for the encampments from Castle Mask and Lor have to date been largely ignored or phobed off as simply precautionary camps to rotate troops through for escort duty for merchants travelling from Lor to Rael.
Post by: Script Wrecked on October 31, 2010, 10:45:48 PM
"The net iz drawing closerr. Zhould you be ztuck behind it, we may not be able to be reaching you."
(1) any dwarven community not within or in the immediate vicinity of Lor
Post by: Script Wrecked on October 31, 2010, 10:55:00 PM
Further, she organises a review of the tunnels found at the bottom of many homes within Lor, listing the houses, the nature of the tunnel, and where they come out.
Post by: mixafix on November 02, 2010, 12:21:40 PM
Regular forces, Dwarves, Militia and mercenary forces raced to guard the walls. Warehouses were broken open around town and all manner of sophisticated siege weaponary pulled forth. A group of dockers were almost fully equiped in admantium and iron mail with a more than ample stock of useful weapons broken out of crates before it was discovered the incident was a false alarm. Sheepishly but quickly men and a vast array of material was returned to holding locations.
The Diet played down the deployment as routine training.
Post by: Dezza on November 03, 2010, 05:00:44 AM
Post by: Dezza on November 05, 2010, 05:47:46 PM
Word hits the streets in Lor, rumours abound, stories and imaginations run wild!
4 scouts from the army were captured as they camped 10 miles inside Lors sovereign territory. Soldiers trained by Captain Argali found the men and eagerly and triumphantly dragged them to Castle Mask where authorities have placed the men in prison, unsure and fearful of what to do next.
A messenger has been dispatched to the Diet in Lor for help in deciding the matter. No word has as yet come from Rael.
All this as the bulk of the Southern Rael army wends its way ever closer to the southernmost regions of Rael.
Post by: mixafix on November 07, 2010, 02:05:25 AM
The scouts are likely to be expertly questioned and to better identify their task before their proposed negotiated return.
Post by: Dezza on November 07, 2010, 02:45:50 AM
As the negotiators are assembled one joins their ranks and takes charge, Captain Argali with express orders from the Diet joins the team travelling to Castle Mask.
Post by: Dezza on November 13, 2010, 03:56:53 AM
Within days the Diet issues a proclamation to the effect that while Lor is considered to be in agreeance with Rael over their continued war against the Dark Elf threat to the lands it does not give sanction to any Raelian military units for any purpose to cross the borders into lands controlled by Lor.
The Diet further declares that any such transgression may be seen as an act of intention. A serious matter indeed.
Post by: Dezza on November 18, 2010, 12:38:46 AM
Many too arrived just to see the ships of the famous Blood Circle Captains who in the last decade have given Liwich almost entire control of the seas west of Dreger against slavers and pirates.
City officials took the advantage of the visit to put on a large show for them and for the people of the city who in recent months have lived with more fear and trepidation from threats to the north that they care to think about. It was a good chance to many to revel for a while and forget about their own worries and the worries of their beleaguered nation.
Post by: Dezza on November 27, 2010, 06:02:38 PM
On the second day he was treated to a tour of the more charming areas of the city including the old boat building yards that had been filled in to provide more warehousing for mercantile consortiums trading through Lor.
Rumours began to spread when the Regnant of Hurm also took time out of his scedule for private meeting with Captain Argali of the Beacon Guards. Supporters of Rael claiming that Lor may be trying to gain an alliance with Hurm while supporters of Lor indicating it was probably just to get advice on the use of the ships Captain Argali had helped capture from pirates several years prior.
As yet the content of the discussion at the meeting has been left to speculation.
On a side note there was an incident near the docks in the early hours of the morning. Details are not clear but it seems several persons, presumably smugglers, have been killed by the Regnants Guards as they tried to get aboard Saviars own ship. The Regnant refused to comment on the incident. The bodies were handed over to Militia after the incident.
Post by: silverdraco on December 14, 2010, 05:02:50 AM
So she starts to walk to and around Lor asking people for information*
Post by: Script Wrecked on December 14, 2010, 05:46:26 AM
Quote from: silverdraco
*Xanya Enyafailm comes back to her home in Lor(outskirts of castle mask) after being away for several months. As she drops some supplies in her home she starts to wonder what has been happening in Lor while she was away.
So she starts to walk to and around Lor asking people for information*
// [POST=1709975]Link[/POST]. //
Post by: Script Wrecked on December 15, 2010, 07:10:24 AM
Post by: Dezza on December 16, 2010, 08:26:40 AM
Upon arriving at the warehouse she is suprised to find it half empty. Demanding to know where all the equipment has gone the harrassed clerks indicate that when Diet Member Angela Swann resigned her post and left Lor she reclaimed everything she had provided for the forces.
Sasha's response was to click her tongue in annoyance before spinning on her heel and marching for the offices of the Mayors.
Post by: willhoff on December 16, 2010, 04:50:31 PM
Post by: Dezza on December 16, 2010, 05:07:02 PM
Relaxing suddenly she clasps a firm hand on his shoulder gripping tightly. Just the man I needed to see, and leads him towards her offices.
(A discussion unfolds after that in relation to growing angst in Lor, growing unrest, lack of arms and equipment, fearful soldiers, and lack of strong directional leadership since Angela Swann has departed.)
Post by: willhoff on December 16, 2010, 06:15:22 PM
During their discusions in her office Vrebel agrees with her that fears and anxieties are hightened among the soldiers and the common folk. He lets her know that he will fight till the end for Lor as it his home.
As far as leadership, Vrebel makes is known that he doesnt want to step on Captain Argali's toes or get in the way of Sasha but will do what ever is needed to help contain the situation. He will help to supply armor and weapons as well.
After his discussion with the Marshal, Vrebel visits the soldiers on the front lines and shares war stories and helps them train to boost their moral*
Post by: Filatus on December 16, 2010, 09:26:14 PM
*If the townsfolk of Lor regret Member of the Diet Swann's departure, he would berate them for their silence, stating they could have changed much by lending their voice to her cause. Still, he would tell them there might still be ample opportunity for them to let their voice be heard. The battle has not been fought yet and even if the guard of Lor has lost their nerves, the Stonebound have not, neither has Angela Swann.*
Post by: silverdraco on December 17, 2010, 03:01:01 AM
Inside Xanya locks all chests that belong to her to prevent them from being opened incase unwanted people enter her home. she also changes her clothing to that of her usual outfit. Then she grabs herself some wood cutting axes and heads out of the house.
As she exits her house she still has a rather angry look on her face and her body language isn't that friendly either. Wood cutting axes can clearly be seen on her belt as can be her large blade which seems to be almost as big as herself. She is seen heading into the woods.
One can only assume she is going to cut wood to help protect her home.*
Post by: davidhoff on December 17, 2010, 11:24:06 AM
1 Cloak of Reistance +2
1 Dragonskin Buckler
1 Archer Belt
1 Brawler Belt
1 Swordsmans Belt
1 Belt of Eluding
1 Cobalt Reinf. Cloth
1 M. Adventurer's Robes
20 Rings of Bull's Strenth +2
1 Ring of Fox's Cunning +2
6 Rings of Endurance +2
4 Rings of Garnet set in Plat.
14 Rings of Cat's Grace +2
1 Designer Ring
2 Dorand's Helper Rings
1 Ring of Protection
2 Amulets of Owl's Wisdom +2
4 Amulets of Fox's Cunning +2
5 Amulets of Bull's Strength +2
5 Amulets of Endurance +2
1 Amulet of Cat's Grace +2
After leaving the Quartermaster's Warehouse, Tralek goes back to his home to make arrangments to store its belongings somewhere safe and to secure it from a possible invasion. He then graps a few special items and packs his bags and heads out the doors into the woods around Castle Mask.*
Post by: silverdraco on December 19, 2010, 04:06:45 PM
Post by: willhoff on December 19, 2010, 05:12:32 PM
Hope this helps *a nod* Tell the Marshal there'll be more comin'
*With that he hops back in his saddle, a slight grunt from his horse, and heads back to his home. Contents of the chests:
1 Cloak of Resistance
1 Adamantium bastard sword-silver lv3, fire lev4
1 Garnet set in platinum amulet
1 Exceptional garnet set in platinum ring
1 Adamantium Great Sword- titanium lev4/electric lev4
1 Gloves of Fury- fire resist/-10
1 Adamantium Great Sword- titanium lev4/cold lev4
1 Gloves of the Scouts
1 Pair boots of reflexes
1 Talisman of the defenders
1 Pair Stones boots
1 Diamond ring of bulls
1 Diamond ringo of bulls - cold resist/-10
1 ring of the defenders
1 Amulet of Bulls Strength- elec resist/-10
1 Adamantium Helm- cold resist/-10
1 Pair boot of the Militia
1 Greater Flight of Fancy Bow
6 Adamantium shortswords
3 Iron chain shirts
2 Iron shields
1 Belt of Aquisition
1 Utility Belt
5 Cobalt Helms
1 Iron Heater shield
1 adamantium dagger
1 Iron chainmail
*Most of the armor and weapons have the markings of being recently made to the trained eye
Post by: Dezza on December 20, 2010, 01:37:49 AM
"Well dont just stand there gaping! Get some men out here to get it inside!"
Post by: davidhoff on December 20, 2010, 05:00:59 AM
Post by: Dezza on December 20, 2010, 09:38:38 PM
Worried onlookers are talking amongst themselves and soon the word spreads that Baroness Serina Ralda has been held against her will by Lord Rancion III in Castle Mask and that Rael troops have crossed the borders and are converging on the Castle.
A local citizen is seen to be unconsolable near Tralek as she wails.
"Angela abandons us, earthquakes tear at the heart of our city, the Cult spread fear, Rael threatens us and now, now he threatens Castle Mask, my sister lives there with her family, what will become of them? how soon before it's us?" Crying hysterically she is led away by a friend.
Post by: Script Wrecked on December 21, 2010, 02:45:29 AM
"She knows a zerrtain drragon like zis alzo..." she mutters absently, before returning to carousing with the engineering crews and Beacon Tower guard.
Post by: Dezza on December 21, 2010, 03:20:49 AM
Soon all over Lor heralds are heard announcing the public meeting on the morrow.
Those who dally soon notice the Second in command of the Beacon Guards and Lors standing army arrive at the council chambers and enter for another closed meeting with the mayors.
They emerge sometime later grim faced and within the hour messengers are sent out to all quarters of the city and farms beyond to recall all off duty soldiers to barracks.
It's subtle, but to the observant, something has changed in Lor, the mood in the air grown darker, people are tired of being pushed around and being held to a ransom of fear.
Post by: Dezza on December 22, 2010, 08:19:29 PM
Soon enough under heavy escort the mayors work their way through the crowd, shaking hands, giving words of encouragment and guaging the mood of the crowd. Mayor Evelyn Svendowski is radiant, her hair immaculately presented, her sublte jewellery tastefully arranged. She draws a lot of positive attention with many children rushing to meet her. Mayor Gregor follows behind also a quick smile and ready handshake for those he meets until eventually they both reach the stage set up for them.
To one side a City mage has prepared a simple cantrip to ensure all those present can hear their message. Anticipation hangs on the air as Gregor steps up to the podium with Evelyn, his wife close beside him giving support. A hush falls across the assembly.
"We stand here today before you, truly humbled by your presence, your support and your trust in us to do what is right for Lor. Many of you have been with us through the trials and tribulations of the last few decades since Prantz was taken over by Lord Rael."
A few boos, hisses and jeers come from the crowd but are largely ignored as most are totally fixated on the mayors.
"This has mean't a change in the way of life for many Lorites, an adaption if you like to new ways and new ideas. For the most part the relationship with Rael has of necessity been cordial and civilised. Lor is in the most part an isolated state in a larger nation and we have done what was necessary to ensure our way of life, our people and our families can exist and grow and learn and conduct business in a free manner.
The last few years as you know forces moving in the world have approached Lor to aid them in the war against the Cult that now occupies Kuhl. The recent attacks on Mistone have reflected just how easily the Cult is able to strike anywhere in the world at whim. The loss of lives not only amongst local soldiers but heroes and adventurers has shown us the delicate balance in which we survive.
Now, our northern borders are threatened, currently our estimates conclude that over 12,000 Rael soldiers sit waiting for some as yet unknown event to occur.
In the last few days we have been beset by troubles, I refer of course the the earthquake and we thank the gods that no lives were lost in the incident.
By aside from our own personal sufferage in Lor now we face another challenge. Rael forces have officially occupied Castle Mask and even as we speak are sending another 5000 soldiers towards the castle." He pauses for a moment and the crowd rumbles, angry voices are raised the general feeling an ominous signal of rising ire.
"As the Mayors of this good city and having dealt with the Baroness Serina and all matters related to Castle Mask and to Golden we have come to a decision. We can no longer stand by and watch as our lands are slowly eaten up by forces who make little but accusations and demands. Our friends and allies, our brothers and sisters, our families in Golden and Castle Mask are under threat.
As of yesterday we ordered the recall of all off duty soldiers of Lor, within the next day or so they will be assembled in barracks around the city. Both Evelyn and I have come to a very hard and difficult position that could very well mean the end of everything we know and hold dear, but we cannot stand aside any longer.
My faithful Lorites, in the next few days the Lorite army, the first ever assembled will march for Castle Mask to remove the Raelian soldiers and have the Baroness released, peacefully if possible, but through use of force should the situation require it. These are our orders and we pray that you stand with us in our time of need."
The crowd mumbles and fearful glances are made, others seem stunned by the news and as the volume rises, questions, demands, worried comments somewhere from the back of the crowd a song is heard, softly at first but soon those around them take up the chant and before long much of the crowds gathered are singing loudly. Soon it seems the whole city resounds to the sounds of the anthem for Lor started in an inn by a hitherto unknown bard called Andrew Reid but which became popularised very quickly and now echoes around the city showing the unity of those within it.
There can be no mistake, Lor is going to war.
Upon the podium Evelyn and Gregor hold each other singing with the crowd, tears of pride pouring down their faces. A people that would be oppressed or live in the shadow of fear no longer.
Several blocks away a Raelite merchant and also a spy for Rael and his gathered men stand at the third story window of their building hearing the chants echoing through the streets. Word had already reached them of what the Mayors had decided.
He turns to his men after listening for several minutes.
"It may be too late for Lord Rael to do this quietly, these people will not go down without a fight, they have pride on their side and they fight for what they believe in, an adversary with that on their side is a dangerous foe. Pack up everything, we leave as soon as we are ready. Lord Rancion III needs to know what is coming his way as soon as possible."
They leap into action.
Post by: mixafix on December 23, 2010, 03:56:59 AM
A reasonable force of mercenaries living in the City for some time are called to warehouses along the docks and long lines form as the men are issued arms and armour from properties owned by the Office. Weapons, armour and shields aplenty stockpiled for just such a day.
The Twin Mayors insurance policy revealed - as one of the apparently most inefficient offices ever created, the office of Rael Affairs, reveals it's true purpose and ample equipment is made available for the army's march north.
Post by: RollinsCat on December 23, 2010, 11:46:11 AM
The writing takes a fearful turn
Tension humming from the script
From the north the news is stern
Once more a quill is quickly dipped
An army marches to the Mask -- once more into the breach, my friend
I'm praying for diplomacy but we'll see this through until the end
Quill tossed down and book left then
The air crackles with a pre-storm lull
A gust, a blank page flipped open
While through a window call the gulls
Whose hand will take the pen of state
From what will flow the next few verse
What future now does Lor await
A free city...or something worse?
He'll march. There was never any doubt. But, mayhaps he can be of more use that just a voice and future casualty - so after planting the tune of his and Lana's anthems in the crowd's mind, he heads to the office of a very sexy Rofireinite he knows who, irrespective of her questionable taste in men (he grins to himself), would probably like to know there is a bard along for the ride...
Post by: Dezza on December 23, 2010, 06:59:47 PM
They ask Lorites to take a moment of time to pray for the dead and injured and to prepare for them when they are returned to the city over the next few days.
As many healers and wagons as can be found are brought together with another 200 soldiers and taken north to the scene of the battle with the 5000 strong Raelite host.
The mayors indicate that the Raelites lost half their number before they were routed including their General while the Lorites suffered as well losing a third of their own number. It is clear that without the aid of the heroes and adventurers with them, including the Captain of the Beacon Guards, Argali Stormaxe, the former Diet member Angela Swann and Toranites Chosen Daniella Stormhaven the Lorite forces would have been overrun.
It is also important to note that on the field of battle a number of giants came to the aid of the Lorites, attacking the Rael soldiers with boulder missiles just as they were about to break over the Lorite front lines and caused no end of chaos for the Raelites.
The remaining force was then led onto Castle Mask to find the castle abandoned by the Raelites who had been there. Suprised and confused the force were told by a gratefull Baroness of how Lord Rancion was set to execute her when he received word that Prantz had been attacked and all forces were to return to he city with all haste.
Post by: Script Wrecked on December 23, 2010, 07:24:54 PM
Shortly after the battle (http://forums.layonara.com/calendar.php?do=getinfo&e=17794&day=2010-12-24&c=3) for Castle Mask, Argali presents herself to the Marshal's office. She makes a full report of the encounter, including her appraisal of the troops, their performance, and any shortfalls she may have noticed. She also brings to the Marshal's attention the names any soldiers she feels particularly worthy of merit.
Post by: Dezza on December 27, 2010, 04:03:57 AM
"All men and women, able and capable of bearing arms are to report to the quartermasters office on the morrow to be issued with equipment. They are then to assemble on the staging grounds north of the city where they will form up with the current standing army.
The orders from there are to march north to join with the 600 Lorite infantry currently stationed in Castle Mask restoring order and then to march north with soldiers from Castle Mask, to Golden and hold position around the city.
Messengers from there will travel to the Rael border and offer Lors condolences on the attacks and her offers to help.
Should they come under fire they are to withdraw and establish forward deployment barricades north of Golden and await further instructions."
Post by: Dezza on January 04, 2011, 06:57:17 PM
With Rael focused on Prantz his soldiers sit and wait facing a rather large and somewhat hostile force.
As rumours of the situation in Prantz slowly reaches Lor tensions are high. The Mayors are resolute in their decision despite some small rallies of opposition to their stance amongst some of the pro-rael populace.
Word of calls for Lord Rael to finally annex Golden/Castle mask and Lor into one unified kingom of Rael once again affirm the Mayors decision to oppose any such action.
For now the tense situation continues with nerves on a knifes edge.
Baroness Serina Ralda has returned to Lor to meet with the mayors and be on hand should any quick decisions need to be made in the coming weeks based on Raels reaction to the Cult attack.
Post by: Dezza on January 10, 2011, 09:55:55 PM
Baroness Serina Rald and the Mayors of Lor have decided to travel back to Castle Mask together and reassess the situation there.
Post by: Dezza on January 19, 2011, 06:33:04 PM
Eager and yet worried at the same time the small army goes over everything ensuring they are prepared for whatever may happen when the force reaches the border.
Post by: Dezza on January 23, 2011, 06:14:34 AM
Heralds cross into Disputed land and politely request an audience for those who speak for Golden, Lor and Castle mask.
Mayor of Lor Gregor and Baroness Serina Ralda ride forth with a protective escort to meet with the former occupier of Castle Mask with some trepidation.
The meeting is short, barely an hour and soon the party returns to the main army encampment. Leaders and captains gather in the main command tent for a briefing with the Baroness and the Mayor and within half an hour the camp is bustling wityh activity.
Captains give orders to sergeants, sergeants carry out those orders and within minutes soldiers are roused and tents being broken down and packed for transit.
Word spreads quickly. A truce has been reached. The threat for now has ended. But another war has begun, one that could be just the same as or even more deadly than any war might have been with Rael.
The first ever combined Lor, Castle Mask and Golden Army breaks up going their seperate ways with their respective leaders.
There is much preparation to be done.
Post by: incahootz on January 26, 2011, 10:21:24 PM
"Guess Oi'll just go kill meh some Cultists den instead. Oi dun really care it it beh Realites or dem, dey all deh blewdy same teh me anyway. Oi'll jus' ask Argali who teh kill. She'll tell meh roight."
He goes off to find her.
Post by: Chazzler on February 02, 2011, 10:49:09 AM
Bloody 'ells...
Post by: Dezza on February 05, 2011, 03:13:36 AM
Watching from a nearby doorway some of the off duty militia who had gathered to watch the match suddenly snap to attention as Mayor Gregor enters the parade ground and stands waiting for them to finish.
Eventually Sasha notices the disruption and promptly disarms two of her opponents, knocks another down and holds the point of her practice blade to the throat of the last. Strands of blonde hair are plastered to her face from sweat and she smiles encouragingly.
"You're all improving, you might be able to beat my mum one day." With a loud laugh at the good natured responses from the men she grabs a towel from a servant and hands over her practice sword and shield then wiping her face and neck makes her way to the doorway where the mayor awaits her.
Stopping before him she bows briefly.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit Lord Mayor?"
He smiles, I thought you should know that I have had a response from Angela Swann regarding the chair she left vacant when she departed from Lor after Lord Rael's ultimatums during the Dark Elf war.
Sasha throws a towel to one of the guards nearby casually.
"What did she say?"
"You were right, she took some time but she has agreed to resume her position on the provision that Lor supports her right to allow Alantha to return to the city."
Sasha nods in thought. "Did she say when?"
"No, I am hoping its soon, we may have another problem, there is a Cult army landing soon in Sederra. My advisors believe they will strike from Sloven to take Seawatch Fort and then Lor. I have not heard back from Captain Argali what the council is doing about it yet. But I hope they hurry. Anyway, I just thought I should tell you since it was your idea in the first place." With that he leaves the building pauses momentarily to acknowledge the men standing at attention still near the door.
With relieved groans the men chatter amongst themselves after the mayor leaves while one approaches Sasha.
"Why didn't you lead the forces that went to Hilm Marshal? They could use someone with your experience."
Sasha's pale blue eyes seem to stare through the man for a few moments before she answers. Placing a comradely hand on his shoulder she says, "It's a long story Marcum but needless to say these days I won't do anything like that unless I'm asked, and frankly, I haven't been asked. So I'll stay here and do my duty to Lor and if the Cult threatens us I'll continue to do what I do best, take care of law and order in this city until someone tells me differently."