Doran started to answer Ymir when the captain appeared. It seems I am to stay with the main group he said to himself.
Not making very good impression with sergeant are ya Doran said his father's familiar voice. No lateness is always call to get scolded, but I think Ymir has plans for me anyways. Probably going to be in smack down in the middle of this war. If I manage to keep up I probably have lot better chance than most of this rabble of staying alive. Ymir knows this Doran thought plus he wants to see how I perform my duties easier to watch if I'm walking and he's riding.
Doran was standing ready waiting for the order to head out when two more came running by. Doran knew one them it was guy in bar the other night. After listening to Ymir for moment and looking at Ymir's direction he saw he was almost completely ignoring the one he knew. Doran thought that's a bad sign if I ever saw it. He continued to listen trying not to stare as he heard the other guy storming off cursing in Elven? So elves are here to help too huh. Looks like I might least be on right side of war he thought to himself. Doran looked back at the guy he knew. Well he thought least maybe I can talk to him and get few answers maybe. Ok he thought i'll try to make friends with that one when he gets back.
The Muster (Open!)
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Guest
Main
As the things calmed down most of the people seemed to be done packing and were standing for being checked by Ymir. The sergeant felt a bit embarrassed, as no one had come forth yet to join Captain Marten in the scout team. Hearing of the young ones preferring not to enter battle was not something he found not odd himself. The task could be dangerous indeed and young ones were in most cases the first to die if the scout group got caught. He preferred experienced people to be doing such a dangerous task but those seemed not be coming forward at all.
A troubled look was on his face he really wanted have at least some of the lads brave enough to aid in that. A hardy speech was necessary here and Ymir who had equipped himself in his Brigandine suit decided to rally up the men. “Men, Ye’ all be knowin’ Cap’n Marten need yee’ aid in recon’ in front of the mainstay. It’d be an honourable thang to do so an’ ye’ be getting’ nicely rewarded as well.†Ymir glanced over the men who showed little enthusiasm, as most were reluctant of venturing into enemy territory. The sergeant looked rather annoyed but continued to speak further. “Let me be puttin’ it this way ye’ hear. If ye’ dun wan’ too, ye’ have to say ol’ Ymir in the face…â€
Much success it did not have as Ymir would never allow people who were either to scared or unmotivated to join. Under the experienced troops he couldn’t find a single person, except for Argis the stout build dwarf in a thick chain coat. This dwarf stepped forward with the largest steps he could muster and roared swinging his hammer around. “I be helping the lads me hammer be crushing the bone of all who oppose!†Ymir seemed pleased as someone decided to join at least but it was the only person he could get who had courage enough.
Ymir looked at the group gathered speaking now on a more quiet and reserved then before. He had given it all a shot but to not much avail as from the thirty or so men, only one had daring enough to join and that was not even a man but a dwarf. It this stage it seemed everyone was going to be on their own for the time being that was until the Sergeant gave word for them to move out. Ymir took it rather easy as now he himself had time to prepare for the battle ahead.
Enzirou & Doran
As everyone mingled it became apparent that neither Doran nor Enzirou knew any of these people. Most seemed to be semi-experienced men called up for arms, seeing from the sight in they were not professional soldiers but mercenaries, fortune seekers and auxiliary. The cursing youth looked at Doran and started to laugh with an annoying tone for some unapparent reason. Then he walked up to Enzirou with a fixed look and stomped him on the shoulder. It was a hard stomp but not one that could be considered an attack of any form; it more looked like he was trying to get his attention. “He friend, check out the beardy dwarf over there he going to be running in the fray?†Laughing loud the Achadhiel made not attempt at hiding the fact of his amusement. “So I saw you in town the a couple burns back, why didn’t you jump the cart with me, friend?†The young lad smiled then looking at Doran again and started to laugh even more. Doran was sparking his laughter for no apparent reason.
Phillinie
Craigh chuckled as he heard of the tale of the pony, imaging the young Achadhiel being dragged behind a pony through the planes over cow dung and gravel. “Yeah it is best to not go on an exploration take unless you used to it. Else you probably be getting yourself killed and that be a shame aint it pal?†A snicker came from him saying this, which could be taking as Craigh was mocking him but then again so far he had seen this guy seem to be at the brick of laughter all the time. “Be not worrying your little butt over it, you be quite well around me I know how a bit of first aid.†A grin on his face showed his teeth, which were crooked and a bit yellow, and his breath smelled of rum.
Sevti’ilan bowed his farewell to the others and then walked with a swiftness fit for an Adhiel to Ymir, who was readying himself a bit further away. Some whispers where exchanged between the, and Ymir seemed to be nodding with a peculiar look. It all merely took a few burns then as swift as he walked to Ymir, the healer vanished away through the crowd and into the background.
As the things calmed down most of the people seemed to be done packing and were standing for being checked by Ymir. The sergeant felt a bit embarrassed, as no one had come forth yet to join Captain Marten in the scout team. Hearing of the young ones preferring not to enter battle was not something he found not odd himself. The task could be dangerous indeed and young ones were in most cases the first to die if the scout group got caught. He preferred experienced people to be doing such a dangerous task but those seemed not be coming forward at all.
A troubled look was on his face he really wanted have at least some of the lads brave enough to aid in that. A hardy speech was necessary here and Ymir who had equipped himself in his Brigandine suit decided to rally up the men. “Men, Ye’ all be knowin’ Cap’n Marten need yee’ aid in recon’ in front of the mainstay. It’d be an honourable thang to do so an’ ye’ be getting’ nicely rewarded as well.†Ymir glanced over the men who showed little enthusiasm, as most were reluctant of venturing into enemy territory. The sergeant looked rather annoyed but continued to speak further. “Let me be puttin’ it this way ye’ hear. If ye’ dun wan’ too, ye’ have to say ol’ Ymir in the face…â€
Much success it did not have as Ymir would never allow people who were either to scared or unmotivated to join. Under the experienced troops he couldn’t find a single person, except for Argis the stout build dwarf in a thick chain coat. This dwarf stepped forward with the largest steps he could muster and roared swinging his hammer around. “I be helping the lads me hammer be crushing the bone of all who oppose!†Ymir seemed pleased as someone decided to join at least but it was the only person he could get who had courage enough.
Ymir looked at the group gathered speaking now on a more quiet and reserved then before. He had given it all a shot but to not much avail as from the thirty or so men, only one had daring enough to join and that was not even a man but a dwarf. It this stage it seemed everyone was going to be on their own for the time being that was until the Sergeant gave word for them to move out. Ymir took it rather easy as now he himself had time to prepare for the battle ahead.
Enzirou & Doran
As everyone mingled it became apparent that neither Doran nor Enzirou knew any of these people. Most seemed to be semi-experienced men called up for arms, seeing from the sight in they were not professional soldiers but mercenaries, fortune seekers and auxiliary. The cursing youth looked at Doran and started to laugh with an annoying tone for some unapparent reason. Then he walked up to Enzirou with a fixed look and stomped him on the shoulder. It was a hard stomp but not one that could be considered an attack of any form; it more looked like he was trying to get his attention. “He friend, check out the beardy dwarf over there he going to be running in the fray?†Laughing loud the Achadhiel made not attempt at hiding the fact of his amusement. “So I saw you in town the a couple burns back, why didn’t you jump the cart with me, friend?†The young lad smiled then looking at Doran again and started to laugh even more. Doran was sparking his laughter for no apparent reason.
Phillinie
Craigh chuckled as he heard of the tale of the pony, imaging the young Achadhiel being dragged behind a pony through the planes over cow dung and gravel. “Yeah it is best to not go on an exploration take unless you used to it. Else you probably be getting yourself killed and that be a shame aint it pal?†A snicker came from him saying this, which could be taking as Craigh was mocking him but then again so far he had seen this guy seem to be at the brick of laughter all the time. “Be not worrying your little butt over it, you be quite well around me I know how a bit of first aid.†A grin on his face showed his teeth, which were crooked and a bit yellow, and his breath smelled of rum.
Sevti’ilan bowed his farewell to the others and then walked with a swiftness fit for an Adhiel to Ymir, who was readying himself a bit further away. Some whispers where exchanged between the, and Ymir seemed to be nodding with a peculiar look. It all merely took a few burns then as swift as he walked to Ymir, the healer vanished away through the crowd and into the background.
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Phillinie
"Well sergeant, I was not so concerned with my own hide as those who might be counting on me in battle. I would hope others would be as considerate and then we may not have need for those healing skills. Doesn't look like Marten is getting many takers for his advance party other than that dwarf. Probably rides a large dog but at least he knows how. I guess I'll eventually have to learn to ride if I am to be fully effective." Philline said the last line almost to himself.
"Any idea what our role is going to be?"
"Any idea what our role is going to be?"
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Phillinie
Craigh chuckled at hearing the young lad calling him Sergeant; a bright smile revealed his teeth and some more breathe of rum. “You shouldn’t call me sergeant Ymir won’t like that, as I’m now only addressed as keeper of the rabble. They be calling it a corporal nothing fancy not special not much more pay…†A chuckle came from his lips as he pictured a dwarf being pulled through the hills by a mad dog. “Yea dwarves don’t make too excellent riders that’s the truth but they can be pretty good on a driven thing, just don’t be saying this out loud to him or he with slug you down.†Craigh then looked around him as if he noticed something missing. “Drat where Sevti’ go? Elves are a slippery bunch always going on so quick… but you be knowing this don’t you? Well he will show up later… or not.â€
Craigh sighed with some reluctance when he got asked about what the role was and the other things. “Riding is something that’s very useful as it saves time, saves energy and saves your life in some cases, learn it early before your too old. But to answer your important question about what our role is going to be will probably be infantry related so this means a lot of walking, drills and sleeping outdoors. I hope you brought a bedroll or at least a blanket because else you in for a cold night.†Chuckling again the corporal eyes sparkled with delight as he usually saw rookies forgetting this basic thing. “So kid, did you bring your blankey?â€
Craigh chuckled at hearing the young lad calling him Sergeant; a bright smile revealed his teeth and some more breathe of rum. “You shouldn’t call me sergeant Ymir won’t like that, as I’m now only addressed as keeper of the rabble. They be calling it a corporal nothing fancy not special not much more pay…†A chuckle came from his lips as he pictured a dwarf being pulled through the hills by a mad dog. “Yea dwarves don’t make too excellent riders that’s the truth but they can be pretty good on a driven thing, just don’t be saying this out loud to him or he with slug you down.†Craigh then looked around him as if he noticed something missing. “Drat where Sevti’ go? Elves are a slippery bunch always going on so quick… but you be knowing this don’t you? Well he will show up later… or not.â€
Craigh sighed with some reluctance when he got asked about what the role was and the other things. “Riding is something that’s very useful as it saves time, saves energy and saves your life in some cases, learn it early before your too old. But to answer your important question about what our role is going to be will probably be infantry related so this means a lot of walking, drills and sleeping outdoors. I hope you brought a bedroll or at least a blanket because else you in for a cold night.†Chuckling again the corporal eyes sparkled with delight as he usually saw rookies forgetting this basic thing. “So kid, did you bring your blankey?â€
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Enzirou stood up and smiled at the achadiel "I'd be careful at who your laughing at, dwarves can make formidable warriors despite thier size". "My name's Enzirou, I didn't jump the cart because I hesitated, being around so many humans for so long has almost made me forget that I'm half adhiel". He then looked over at the dwarf that his fellow achadiel was laughing at , "Excuse me come and join us and excuse my friend for his rudeness". Enzirou smiled at the dwarf and turned back to the achadiel to continue thier conversation.
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Enzirou & Doran
“It’s a done deal do not trouble about it not everyone been raised in an acrobats family.†The young men gave a quick glance at the people in the group then turned to face Enzirou again. “Seems for some reasons us outcasts wind up in dangerous tasks for the lords in the world, it is only natural for some to stray further away then others. But well look at him he is dressed in a full plate head to toe as if he thinks it is comfortable to do so, well we know who to send as a spearhead now don’t we? He, give me a minute while I get myself fixed up, suggest you be doing the same you look like you were sleeping also half a mark ago.†A wicked grin covered the flashing youth cheeks and he threw his hair backwards as if was hung in his face. A scar over his right eyebrow was clearly visible some hair missing suggesting the old wound must have once been rather serious.
Tying his shoulder length hair with a gold coloured ribbon into a tail the youth gnashed his piece of wood with some ferocity. The lad was of average height and had an athletic build physique a sign of a trained youth. Long blond hair, blue eyes made him not to shabby to look at but his attitude needed some working as Doran had noticed. After a few burn of setting himself in order the young Achadhiel looked more presentable. His clothes were in check, the studded jacket set accordingly and his hair bind and tidy. Speaking on a different tone he decided to make his acquaintance again with Enzirou & Doran. “Sorry about the dwarf joke I’ve had a friend who make fun off everything kind rubs off on ye. My name Vale, nice to meet the lot of you seems we are all going to be going to kick some clannish butt is it? I been hearing they been at it again, but there also other rumours, so many one has trouble finding out which one is real and which are phoney. Guess Captain Marten will fill us in later, looks like this one of the overnight thought up campaigns against the rebel sentiment, which is plentiful around Dort especially in the Highlands now isn’t it?†Having quite a chatter Vale had a motor mouth speaking swift and uninterrupted, something that someone reserved might be bothered by.
“It’s a done deal do not trouble about it not everyone been raised in an acrobats family.†The young men gave a quick glance at the people in the group then turned to face Enzirou again. “Seems for some reasons us outcasts wind up in dangerous tasks for the lords in the world, it is only natural for some to stray further away then others. But well look at him he is dressed in a full plate head to toe as if he thinks it is comfortable to do so, well we know who to send as a spearhead now don’t we? He, give me a minute while I get myself fixed up, suggest you be doing the same you look like you were sleeping also half a mark ago.†A wicked grin covered the flashing youth cheeks and he threw his hair backwards as if was hung in his face. A scar over his right eyebrow was clearly visible some hair missing suggesting the old wound must have once been rather serious.
Tying his shoulder length hair with a gold coloured ribbon into a tail the youth gnashed his piece of wood with some ferocity. The lad was of average height and had an athletic build physique a sign of a trained youth. Long blond hair, blue eyes made him not to shabby to look at but his attitude needed some working as Doran had noticed. After a few burn of setting himself in order the young Achadhiel looked more presentable. His clothes were in check, the studded jacket set accordingly and his hair bind and tidy. Speaking on a different tone he decided to make his acquaintance again with Enzirou & Doran. “Sorry about the dwarf joke I’ve had a friend who make fun off everything kind rubs off on ye. My name Vale, nice to meet the lot of you seems we are all going to be going to kick some clannish butt is it? I been hearing they been at it again, but there also other rumours, so many one has trouble finding out which one is real and which are phoney. Guess Captain Marten will fill us in later, looks like this one of the overnight thought up campaigns against the rebel sentiment, which is plentiful around Dort especially in the Highlands now isn’t it?†Having quite a chatter Vale had a motor mouth speaking swift and uninterrupted, something that someone reserved might be bothered by.
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Enzirou smiled and looked at the achadhiel " Well Vale I'm pleased to meet you". Enzirou began to feel uncomfortable so he re-adjusted his armour and weapons the wat Ymir had shown them on thier scouting mission. " This guy talks alot but I suppose it'll liven things up a bit and besides at least I'm not the only achadhiel". He looked over at the dwarf " I wonder if he'll join Vale and I, I did ask him to join our conversation", he then turned away from the dwarf and turned back to the constant talking of his new friend Vale.
Last edited by Guest on Fri Dec 30, 2005 8:52 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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“Guess he isn't in for a little talk about what’s going on here, is he? So the dwarf is like your pal or something you have a long history of being best of buddies? Vale looked questioning as he knew dwarves could occasionally remain stoic and not answer for some time, a serious lot of people when on the job so to speak. “So why’d you join here is it for the pay thing or is it something else? I myself doing it for the pay as a street performer nowadays don’t really get paid a lot, unless you got connection or are with an established lot. So you got any other friends here besides the plated one or is he your only mate?†It was hard to get a needle between his words as he asked a next question even before the first one was answered. Vale seemed nervous and dealing with it through senseless chatter.
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"The only reason that I joined the army was to make a name for myself and also to become a powerful warrior". He looked at the dwarf again "maybe he dose'nt want to talk to us, well I suppose that's his problem". "I've never met the dwarf over there, I just thought it'd be polite to invite him over to join the conversation"."Vale when do you think they'll give us our orders?".
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A dull look covered Vale’s face as he heard Enzirou speak of becoming a powerful warrior. “Powerful warrior… eh? Sounds rather hmmm well something many people strive to be. Myself I hope to just make enough money to get by and focus on what I really like and that is acrobatics.†The lad paid now little attention on anyone but Enzirou, the rest of the people could he care less for. “So the dwarf is a not friend of yours, figures he looked way to far out to be your bud… Hmmm, the orders well that is all in the hand of Captain Marten of course when he feels it is time to leave he probably get to hear it from the Sergeant. I’m quite ready for the most of it see, got everything I want with me.â€
Open a rather sized rucksack the Achadhiel showed his meagre possessions to Enzirou nothing fancy, perhaps a bit used still nonetheless useful. “See I got here my cup, plate and spoon… A block of soap, a small pan for making soup with a large spoon to stir… and of course a lantern for light. Let’s see a water-skin, a few cheap flasks with something sweet to drink better tasting then plain water, hehe. A little roll to sleep on and I also got a nice quilt my aunt made me it keeps me nice and warm during the night.†Looking at Vale’s things Enzirou could see the lad made some preparations for a journey spanning at least a few days. Funny was a small set of lock-picks sticking out of leather wrapped coverage, something when Vale saw himself he quickly stuck back in its casing closing it with a piece of string, followed with a faint grin. “As you can see I’m prepared I hope so are you, else it might get a little trouble night can be cold in the heights and I do not know if I’ll be getting a tent nor if the tent is a good one.â€
Open a rather sized rucksack the Achadhiel showed his meagre possessions to Enzirou nothing fancy, perhaps a bit used still nonetheless useful. “See I got here my cup, plate and spoon… A block of soap, a small pan for making soup with a large spoon to stir… and of course a lantern for light. Let’s see a water-skin, a few cheap flasks with something sweet to drink better tasting then plain water, hehe. A little roll to sleep on and I also got a nice quilt my aunt made me it keeps me nice and warm during the night.†Looking at Vale’s things Enzirou could see the lad made some preparations for a journey spanning at least a few days. Funny was a small set of lock-picks sticking out of leather wrapped coverage, something when Vale saw himself he quickly stuck back in its casing closing it with a piece of string, followed with a faint grin. “As you can see I’m prepared I hope so are you, else it might get a little trouble night can be cold in the heights and I do not know if I’ll be getting a tent nor if the tent is a good one.â€
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Phillinie
Phill talks with the Corporal
OOC: There are several things that I have thought I purchased that never made it into inventory. Second set of clothes, blanket, and a few things I wised to purchase before coming to this muster like the garrote wire.
IC:
Blanket...hmm new I forgot something when I was packing, Phill thought to himself. Better not let him know how unprepared I am. I still have much to learn with this adventuring business.
"Blanket, sure... Wait no I left it under that little lass last night. I better find a replacement before we leave. Replacement blanket that is although she would be much warmer, but I hate to share. My cloak will only be so much of a comfort while we are out there." Phill replied to the corporal.
"Where can I pick up a few more necessities?"
IC:
Blanket...hmm new I forgot something when I was packing, Phill thought to himself. Better not let him know how unprepared I am. I still have much to learn with this adventuring business.
"Blanket, sure... Wait no I left it under that little lass last night. I better find a replacement before we leave. Replacement blanket that is although she would be much warmer, but I hate to share. My cloak will only be so much of a comfort while we are out there." Phill replied to the corporal.
"Where can I pick up a few more necessities?"
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Enzirou looked at Vale and then down at his two bags, "Everything I need is in those bags at least I think everything is if not well I'll just have to put up with whatever comes my way". He sat down on the floor and stared up at the sky "I hope I come out of this war alive".
Last edited by Guest on Tue Jan 03, 2006 12:03 am, edited 1 time in total.
Doran Speaks
After few moments of mentally preparing for possiblily of an on coming battle Doran realized he was be asked to join the elf and the guy he saw in the bar. He walked over to the elf and gave him stern look for moment and then a smile.
"No need to oppologize, keeping since of humor is good sign of character,but for future reference (Doran looked side to side and whispered in elven ) I watch who you would laugh at next time. Most of these folk look like they have misplaced there since of humor."
Doran chuckled loudly to himself. He looked at elf's face and sure he was blowing smoke in the wind. If he had scar like that and still spoke like he does he will probably never learn to curb his tongue. Doran turned to Enzirou sitting on ground.
" The last time I saw you I thought you were going to get your eye's scratched out for good measure. Glad to see your still have both of your eye's in check."
Doran took off his helm and ran a hand through his red hair. Then he made quick bow and said .
" I am Doran Norwec son of Duran from Nazereeen. Glad to meet both of you. "
"No need to oppologize, keeping since of humor is good sign of character,but for future reference (Doran looked side to side and whispered in elven ) I watch who you would laugh at next time. Most of these folk look like they have misplaced there since of humor."
Doran chuckled loudly to himself. He looked at elf's face and sure he was blowing smoke in the wind. If he had scar like that and still spoke like he does he will probably never learn to curb his tongue. Doran turned to Enzirou sitting on ground.
" The last time I saw you I thought you were going to get your eye's scratched out for good measure. Glad to see your still have both of your eye's in check."
Doran took off his helm and ran a hand through his red hair. Then he made quick bow and said .
" I am Doran Norwec son of Duran from Nazereeen. Glad to meet both of you. "
OOC: We're going to push forward a little on time here gents. There's a synch event coming, and we need to fudge on the time a little to get us much closer to it. Feel free to post whatever actions and reactions you may have as I'll be pushing us to the eve of the 26th with this post.
IC: While the men spoke and packed and prepared themselves, time continued its march and before too long, Captain Marten could be seen assembling his Sergeants and rallying his men together. Ymir barked for the men to gather well before the other bands under other Sergeants did. It was obvious that Ymir liked keeping the Captain in good standing with the Count, and so therefore he had his men in formation and ready long before the Count's muster was ready to go. It made Marten stand out from the crowd of other commander's and set Ymir as one ripe for promotion once one was available. Craigh had everyone rally to him and get into a marching formation, much to the satisfaction of Ymir and the Captain.
All in all, it took nearly a mark of standing and waiting before three sharp blasts gave the muster the signal to march. True to his word, Marten's men were assembled under his banner in the forward third of the army.
The first thing everyone who had not been in a group this size before noticed was how slow an army traveled. While most in the forward third began to move within just a matter of burns, those in the rear had to wait much longer before they even got the word to march.
Out of the periphery of the city they marched, a great snake of metal, leather and dust. Over the road they traveled, hundreds of booted feet pounding into the beaten road. As they moved away from the city, the discipline of holding ranks became less important as space and comfort became more of a factor. The Captain could be seen riding forward with the Count, and then later to the rear of the column to check on the supply wagons. Marten seemed very keen on keeping the supplies close, and after conferring with a hooded figure who later rode off with several others into the surrounding wilderness, checked on their status several times throughout the day.
***
In his ornate robes of glittering gold and red, The Steward Dein is Mein stood a narrow balcony of the high government tower overlooking the muster as he watched it begin to move away from the city. He had spoken with the Count at length about the plans for the assembled Muster to put down the rebellious aims of the lawless clansmen. He watched the soldiers march away with something akin to satisfaction and pride at the muster of his home. Soon the Count’s seat would be secured, and law and order would return to the land. The thought of which pleased Dein is Mein to no end.
A breeze caught the newly woven standard of the Count and Dein is Mein looked up at it in awe and wonder. The sigil was that of a golden fist clutching a ruby on a black field and the banner danced and swayed in the gentle wind. This new standard was the Count’s symbol of gathering the wealth and power of Dort in the name of Erwin, and the Steward took great satisfaction that many would soon come to know the new aims and ambitions associated with that banner.
For far too long we have waited and watched. Now is the time for us to take this land by the throat...
***
The hunched countenance of Vaga Hex watched the muster move away from the city. She cackled and crooned as she saw their faces in the dirty water of her mirror. In her dark and uncontrolled hair were bits of bone and feathers. A bloody chicken’s foot, freshly removed from its previous owner with a sharp knife hung like a gruesome pendant between her shriveled breasts.
“Some will die. Some will live. All will be changed…†The ancient crone croaked ominously.
A crow sat on a perch and watched the withered old woman work her magic. When she looked at him though her squinted, mismatched eyes, it squawked several times and flew off to the south, over the muster and to parts unknown.
Vaga Hex sniffed at the air. A storm was coming. Not a storm of wind and rain, but a human storm. Something whispered to old crone that death was in the air. She made a warding sign with three fingers of her right hand against it, and returned herself to her mirror.
***
Count Johan von Blieb-Hier led his host away from the city and toward his home. In the many yahren of service to the Duke, he had dealt with numerous uprisings and insurrections from the clansman. Most were settled as simple grievances, some were settled with bloodshed, but they all had been settled in one way or another and the Count had initially felt the same about this.
But as he led this hastily assembled force away from the city, something in the back of his mind bothered him. A shiver ran up his spine and deep in his gut he felt a queer sensation of fear and dismay, like he was facing something unseen and unheard of this time, like a disquieting darkness at the edge of his vision that he could not perceive. The feeling ate at him, and he told those closest to him to leave him be for a time. He needed to gather his thoughts, to put together his plan, and to serve his master to the best of his ability. There was no privacy for the man here and now, but he silently plotted, ordering the attacks and strikes to come within the silent confines of his mind. He and Dein is Mein disagreed on a great many topics, but here and now, they shared one thought;
Now is the time to strike...
***
A short trip that normally would take mere tides, turned into days with the slow moving force. They camped in the roving’s and fields of the Middlemarch, and the Count refused to stay under the hospitality of Lars Latham, the Lord of Middlemarch. He instead sent a note with his regards, and ate alone in his tent, prompting some damage control by Captain Marten and several other Commanders to appease the snubbed Lord.
At dawn of the third day, as they began to ascend into the highlands surrounding Islay, the men began to whisper that some evil was working against them. It was taking far too long to travel the distance. There were many delays with the supply wagons, and the Count’s methodical pace was ruining the ability to strike quickly and surprise the clansmen. A crow could be seen circling overhead, and although several attempts were made to bring it down, none were successful. More whispers of evil omens began to surface, and when a horse went down suddenly with a broken leg, many began to whisper of a curse. Ymir did his best to keep the troops from engaging in the rumors, but they were everywhere and on everyone’s lips. By later that day, the morale was so bad in the mustered army that thoughts and words of desertion began to spread. Several men were detained and held, and it was discovered that entire bands of mercenaries had disappeared without a trace overnight.
There was no sign of the enemy. Mounted patrols returned without incident, reporting that the clansman were allowing the army deep within territory that they normally considered theirs. Scouts found little trace of the enemy. Deserted camps and tide old footprints were all they could report on. Whispers and talk turned to the cursed army being led by a mad count. Some called for Dein is Mein to lead. Some simple vanished without a word.
Eveningtide on the third day brought a weary and spooked force to the doorstep of Islay...
IC: While the men spoke and packed and prepared themselves, time continued its march and before too long, Captain Marten could be seen assembling his Sergeants and rallying his men together. Ymir barked for the men to gather well before the other bands under other Sergeants did. It was obvious that Ymir liked keeping the Captain in good standing with the Count, and so therefore he had his men in formation and ready long before the Count's muster was ready to go. It made Marten stand out from the crowd of other commander's and set Ymir as one ripe for promotion once one was available. Craigh had everyone rally to him and get into a marching formation, much to the satisfaction of Ymir and the Captain.
All in all, it took nearly a mark of standing and waiting before three sharp blasts gave the muster the signal to march. True to his word, Marten's men were assembled under his banner in the forward third of the army.
The first thing everyone who had not been in a group this size before noticed was how slow an army traveled. While most in the forward third began to move within just a matter of burns, those in the rear had to wait much longer before they even got the word to march.
Out of the periphery of the city they marched, a great snake of metal, leather and dust. Over the road they traveled, hundreds of booted feet pounding into the beaten road. As they moved away from the city, the discipline of holding ranks became less important as space and comfort became more of a factor. The Captain could be seen riding forward with the Count, and then later to the rear of the column to check on the supply wagons. Marten seemed very keen on keeping the supplies close, and after conferring with a hooded figure who later rode off with several others into the surrounding wilderness, checked on their status several times throughout the day.
***
In his ornate robes of glittering gold and red, The Steward Dein is Mein stood a narrow balcony of the high government tower overlooking the muster as he watched it begin to move away from the city. He had spoken with the Count at length about the plans for the assembled Muster to put down the rebellious aims of the lawless clansmen. He watched the soldiers march away with something akin to satisfaction and pride at the muster of his home. Soon the Count’s seat would be secured, and law and order would return to the land. The thought of which pleased Dein is Mein to no end.
A breeze caught the newly woven standard of the Count and Dein is Mein looked up at it in awe and wonder. The sigil was that of a golden fist clutching a ruby on a black field and the banner danced and swayed in the gentle wind. This new standard was the Count’s symbol of gathering the wealth and power of Dort in the name of Erwin, and the Steward took great satisfaction that many would soon come to know the new aims and ambitions associated with that banner.
For far too long we have waited and watched. Now is the time for us to take this land by the throat...
***
The hunched countenance of Vaga Hex watched the muster move away from the city. She cackled and crooned as she saw their faces in the dirty water of her mirror. In her dark and uncontrolled hair were bits of bone and feathers. A bloody chicken’s foot, freshly removed from its previous owner with a sharp knife hung like a gruesome pendant between her shriveled breasts.
“Some will die. Some will live. All will be changed…†The ancient crone croaked ominously.
A crow sat on a perch and watched the withered old woman work her magic. When she looked at him though her squinted, mismatched eyes, it squawked several times and flew off to the south, over the muster and to parts unknown.
Vaga Hex sniffed at the air. A storm was coming. Not a storm of wind and rain, but a human storm. Something whispered to old crone that death was in the air. She made a warding sign with three fingers of her right hand against it, and returned herself to her mirror.
***
Count Johan von Blieb-Hier led his host away from the city and toward his home. In the many yahren of service to the Duke, he had dealt with numerous uprisings and insurrections from the clansman. Most were settled as simple grievances, some were settled with bloodshed, but they all had been settled in one way or another and the Count had initially felt the same about this.
But as he led this hastily assembled force away from the city, something in the back of his mind bothered him. A shiver ran up his spine and deep in his gut he felt a queer sensation of fear and dismay, like he was facing something unseen and unheard of this time, like a disquieting darkness at the edge of his vision that he could not perceive. The feeling ate at him, and he told those closest to him to leave him be for a time. He needed to gather his thoughts, to put together his plan, and to serve his master to the best of his ability. There was no privacy for the man here and now, but he silently plotted, ordering the attacks and strikes to come within the silent confines of his mind. He and Dein is Mein disagreed on a great many topics, but here and now, they shared one thought;
Now is the time to strike...
***
A short trip that normally would take mere tides, turned into days with the slow moving force. They camped in the roving’s and fields of the Middlemarch, and the Count refused to stay under the hospitality of Lars Latham, the Lord of Middlemarch. He instead sent a note with his regards, and ate alone in his tent, prompting some damage control by Captain Marten and several other Commanders to appease the snubbed Lord.
At dawn of the third day, as they began to ascend into the highlands surrounding Islay, the men began to whisper that some evil was working against them. It was taking far too long to travel the distance. There were many delays with the supply wagons, and the Count’s methodical pace was ruining the ability to strike quickly and surprise the clansmen. A crow could be seen circling overhead, and although several attempts were made to bring it down, none were successful. More whispers of evil omens began to surface, and when a horse went down suddenly with a broken leg, many began to whisper of a curse. Ymir did his best to keep the troops from engaging in the rumors, but they were everywhere and on everyone’s lips. By later that day, the morale was so bad in the mustered army that thoughts and words of desertion began to spread. Several men were detained and held, and it was discovered that entire bands of mercenaries had disappeared without a trace overnight.
There was no sign of the enemy. Mounted patrols returned without incident, reporting that the clansman were allowing the army deep within territory that they normally considered theirs. Scouts found little trace of the enemy. Deserted camps and tide old footprints were all they could report on. Whispers and talk turned to the cursed army being led by a mad count. Some called for Dein is Mein to lead. Some simple vanished without a word.
Eveningtide on the third day brought a weary and spooked force to the doorstep of Islay...
Last edited by Vanadius on Wed Jan 04, 2006 4:10 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Phillinie
Day 1 through 3 of the march.
Phill completed his back and forth conversation with Corporal Craigh. The Corporal’s permanent smile and slight laughter behind his voice made talking to him at length uncomfortable. Phill had a feeling most of the time he was being laughed at more than laughed with. Although upsetting, he was determined to perform well during this campaign both for the skills he may acquire but also he did not want to let Ymir down. Ymir seemed to be a rising star and it would do him well to hitch his fortunes with that Sergeant.
Phillinie spent the next few hours trying to acquire a few items prior to the campaign. There had to be warm blanket roll someone was willing to part with, and a cloth collapsible hat to keep the sun off of his face and neck. He also searched for some hard candy and jerky to carry along in his pack. He then packed his load, sharpened his blades, and took time to stretch out using his martial art katas. It was during this time that the call from Ymir came to muster his troops.
Phill picked up his pack and headed toward where Craigh was mustering his group in marching formation. Phill looked over his squad mates. While trying to look professional, Phil thought they looked a little rough compared to some of the professional solider groups. Their uniforms were anything but uniform, but they were much more organized than some of the other mercenary squads. Phill felt a small sense of accomplishment by making Craigh and Ymir look good in front of the Captain. I
It seemed like a long time and people were becoming more and more restless as the large group got into order. Phill was used to the hurry up and wait tasks of a large group. Having sailed for a few years it was not uncommon to have ship muster hours before the ship actually cast of her lines. It was during these times that Phill took the time to do light meditation and muscle control. A practice he began when he started studying martial arts. Think of one specific muscle and attempt to contract and release it while leaving the others relaxed. Overall this gave him the appearance of standing very still, almost statuesque. His inner peace was disturbed by 3 short blasts.
It was not long before Phill began his slow march out of the grounds. He looked over his shoulder to see at least as twice as many people behind him. It was hard to imagine the clansmen having such a force to stand up to this many. Maybe the overwhelming force will cause them not to but up a resistance he thought. There was concerted effort to keep the formations tight and orderly as they started off. Spirits were high with the excitement of a new adventure and the prospect of action. The rhythmic sound of boots hitting the road at the same time echoed in Phillinie’s ear. After a few marks, the rhythm was still there but the formations were at a more relaxed origination as people fell into a more natural cadence.
Phill spied the Captain moving up and down the long formation. His constant movement up and down the lines was like a mother hen looking after her chicks. The formation was slow in moving and loud. It was hard to imagine this force putting a quick end to anything you ought to be able to here them for miles. Phillinie got lost in thought while walking and was almost startled when they stopped for the evening. He made his camp next to his squad mates.
OOC: Chance here for a separate thread if someone wants to exchange stories or information.
IC: The excitement of the morning had been worn off by the road. Philline was ready to get to the action. Before going to bed he checked his belongings and his feet for any signs of blistering, even a novice like him knew you had to take care of your feet on a march.
Day two was much the same as day one. The semblance of formation was all but lost. Philline thought they were moving so slow they might as well be marking time. He heard grumblings in the ranks and rumors of desertions from some of the other mercenaries. Ymir came by often to keep spirits up and keep the troops from spreading rumors, but Phill could hear the mention of ill omens and bad signs. What had started as an exciting beginning had started to feel like a heavy impending storm. He was already missing the scouting action tat he had had just a few days prior. They day passed without major incident but the low morale was weighing heavy on him. Phill remained silent most of the evening and tried to quell any talk of bad luck or evil omens that came up in their area.
Day three began with a bright red sky. “Red sky at morn, sailor take warn.†Phill talked to himself. “ I guess you can find a bad omen if you are looking for one. “ Phill again checked out his equipment and set his pack. Maybe today was the day they would see action. Rumors abounded in ranks and Phill tried to squelch any he heard. Speak of the evil and you invite it in your door. Phill had been part of sailing crews where they felt that the ship or journey was cursed. It was usually a self fulfilling profecy. Even though he tried to keep good spirits the overall mood of the force was chilling an hanging like a thick, damp, cool fog and seeped into his bones. Action will clear this away he thought. He noted how quickly the mood had darkened in just three days and wondered if an enchantment might be behind it.
“Nonsense†he said out loud to himself.
Phillinie spent the next few hours trying to acquire a few items prior to the campaign. There had to be warm blanket roll someone was willing to part with, and a cloth collapsible hat to keep the sun off of his face and neck. He also searched for some hard candy and jerky to carry along in his pack. He then packed his load, sharpened his blades, and took time to stretch out using his martial art katas. It was during this time that the call from Ymir came to muster his troops.
Phill picked up his pack and headed toward where Craigh was mustering his group in marching formation. Phill looked over his squad mates. While trying to look professional, Phil thought they looked a little rough compared to some of the professional solider groups. Their uniforms were anything but uniform, but they were much more organized than some of the other mercenary squads. Phill felt a small sense of accomplishment by making Craigh and Ymir look good in front of the Captain. I
It seemed like a long time and people were becoming more and more restless as the large group got into order. Phill was used to the hurry up and wait tasks of a large group. Having sailed for a few years it was not uncommon to have ship muster hours before the ship actually cast of her lines. It was during these times that Phill took the time to do light meditation and muscle control. A practice he began when he started studying martial arts. Think of one specific muscle and attempt to contract and release it while leaving the others relaxed. Overall this gave him the appearance of standing very still, almost statuesque. His inner peace was disturbed by 3 short blasts.
It was not long before Phill began his slow march out of the grounds. He looked over his shoulder to see at least as twice as many people behind him. It was hard to imagine the clansmen having such a force to stand up to this many. Maybe the overwhelming force will cause them not to but up a resistance he thought. There was concerted effort to keep the formations tight and orderly as they started off. Spirits were high with the excitement of a new adventure and the prospect of action. The rhythmic sound of boots hitting the road at the same time echoed in Phillinie’s ear. After a few marks, the rhythm was still there but the formations were at a more relaxed origination as people fell into a more natural cadence.
Phill spied the Captain moving up and down the long formation. His constant movement up and down the lines was like a mother hen looking after her chicks. The formation was slow in moving and loud. It was hard to imagine this force putting a quick end to anything you ought to be able to here them for miles. Phillinie got lost in thought while walking and was almost startled when they stopped for the evening. He made his camp next to his squad mates.
OOC: Chance here for a separate thread if someone wants to exchange stories or information.
IC: The excitement of the morning had been worn off by the road. Philline was ready to get to the action. Before going to bed he checked his belongings and his feet for any signs of blistering, even a novice like him knew you had to take care of your feet on a march.
Day two was much the same as day one. The semblance of formation was all but lost. Philline thought they were moving so slow they might as well be marking time. He heard grumblings in the ranks and rumors of desertions from some of the other mercenaries. Ymir came by often to keep spirits up and keep the troops from spreading rumors, but Phill could hear the mention of ill omens and bad signs. What had started as an exciting beginning had started to feel like a heavy impending storm. He was already missing the scouting action tat he had had just a few days prior. They day passed without major incident but the low morale was weighing heavy on him. Phill remained silent most of the evening and tried to quell any talk of bad luck or evil omens that came up in their area.
Day three began with a bright red sky. “Red sky at morn, sailor take warn.†Phill talked to himself. “ I guess you can find a bad omen if you are looking for one. “ Phill again checked out his equipment and set his pack. Maybe today was the day they would see action. Rumors abounded in ranks and Phill tried to squelch any he heard. Speak of the evil and you invite it in your door. Phill had been part of sailing crews where they felt that the ship or journey was cursed. It was usually a self fulfilling profecy. Even though he tried to keep good spirits the overall mood of the force was chilling an hanging like a thick, damp, cool fog and seeped into his bones. Action will clear this away he thought. He noted how quickly the mood had darkened in just three days and wondered if an enchantment might be behind it.
“Nonsense†he said out loud to himself.
-
Guest
OOC: Just writing a little for making unfinished business to an end, as it wouldn’t be normal for Ymir to send his own out shivering of the cold. Ymir’s Dort soldier Kit worth (16 Lance or 1 Coronet) is a simple looking gear made from wool of the highland sheep. The value might seem low but consider that because it is made from supplies of highlanders which are usualy low cost (due to people scamming 'm) and also Ymir getting special bargains.
The gear itself is just enough to be considered armour, much like a padded clothing. You have to learn an armour skill but do not worry it wouldn't be hard to wear it for lengthy times when you learned this. We will have to figure this thing out when the matter arrives.
IC: Ymir being of good character had used some his own coins and owed favours to supply his own men with some needed equipment. He had good relations with the people of the Dort surroundings and they were always helpful in supplying what he needed for his boys. The cold and moist climate common to Dort could make one easily lose men due to flue, blue cough or the sneezles. Indeed he was a sergeant who cared very much for his men, which had a lot of young and inexperienced lads among them but they where full of zest and courage. The sergeant provided his own men with a lengthy tunic and cap to keep them dry and warm. In addition the also received a warm blanket for the night and a sack in which they could keep their belongings. Everything made from the brown wool of the sheep that lived in the highlands; the wool of this animal was very capable in keeping out the water.
1) A woollen tunic with sleeves made from wool meant to keep one warm and dry. The collar was upright and shaped with a piece of leather inside it, going from the neck all the way until the shoulder onto the chest where it is thickened. The elbows, waist and flanks were padded the same way, leather covered both out and insides by sturdy wool. It even went as far as just above the knees given a good protection against the elements. The tunic bear the mark of Dort stitched with simple yarn on the left side of the chest and was a welcome addition to the travelling men. A bit shameless it seemed to look somewhat like a surcoat worn by knights then a simple tunic a regular soldier would have, except it being made from wool rather then cloth and more suited under an armour rather then over it. (8 Lance)
2) A simple cap made from simple model leather with over it wool to make it rain tidy. It didn’t provide much actual protection in combat but was designed to keep the heads dry and the rain from dripping down into the eyes. It had long flaps of wool to cover the ears, neck and even the shoulders keeping them warm. It could be worn under a helmet as to cushion an impact and keep out the cold weather at the same time. (4 Lance)
3) A large blanket large enough to cover a grown man from head to toe. It was prickly to the naked skin, but was very durable and also was able to hold out rain with relatively easy. Tightly woven it could be used to either cover supplies or goods from the often-rainy weather of the Isle or to keep a man warm. It was much better then any of the regular blankets sold and had highlander made quality all over it. (2 Lance)
4) This was being given in a woolsack, which could be rolled up and tightened with a wool band for easy carrying and placed above or below a backpack. It could be used to sleep on making the cold ground more bearable. Same highlander quality as the blanket it looked like something you’d see a clansmen use itself. (2 Lance)
Ymir explained the usage of the items supplied in the Kit, which he had gathered for them. Everything looked rather dull in their brown colour but it supplied some blending in with the surrounding, in contrast of flamboyant colours the more established elite units of Dort enjoyed using. The tunic could keep a man dry and warm as well suited to be under a suit of arms ranging from humble leather up to chain or even plate. Still one had to heed his warning that even with these items a night in the heights was still chill filled and it also was hard to determine how the highlanders would respond to their presence… It would took some courage, perserverance and will to make a difference and to survive the unslaught.
The gear itself is just enough to be considered armour, much like a padded clothing. You have to learn an armour skill but do not worry it wouldn't be hard to wear it for lengthy times when you learned this. We will have to figure this thing out when the matter arrives.
IC: Ymir being of good character had used some his own coins and owed favours to supply his own men with some needed equipment. He had good relations with the people of the Dort surroundings and they were always helpful in supplying what he needed for his boys. The cold and moist climate common to Dort could make one easily lose men due to flue, blue cough or the sneezles. Indeed he was a sergeant who cared very much for his men, which had a lot of young and inexperienced lads among them but they where full of zest and courage. The sergeant provided his own men with a lengthy tunic and cap to keep them dry and warm. In addition the also received a warm blanket for the night and a sack in which they could keep their belongings. Everything made from the brown wool of the sheep that lived in the highlands; the wool of this animal was very capable in keeping out the water.
1) A woollen tunic with sleeves made from wool meant to keep one warm and dry. The collar was upright and shaped with a piece of leather inside it, going from the neck all the way until the shoulder onto the chest where it is thickened. The elbows, waist and flanks were padded the same way, leather covered both out and insides by sturdy wool. It even went as far as just above the knees given a good protection against the elements. The tunic bear the mark of Dort stitched with simple yarn on the left side of the chest and was a welcome addition to the travelling men. A bit shameless it seemed to look somewhat like a surcoat worn by knights then a simple tunic a regular soldier would have, except it being made from wool rather then cloth and more suited under an armour rather then over it. (8 Lance)
2) A simple cap made from simple model leather with over it wool to make it rain tidy. It didn’t provide much actual protection in combat but was designed to keep the heads dry and the rain from dripping down into the eyes. It had long flaps of wool to cover the ears, neck and even the shoulders keeping them warm. It could be worn under a helmet as to cushion an impact and keep out the cold weather at the same time. (4 Lance)
3) A large blanket large enough to cover a grown man from head to toe. It was prickly to the naked skin, but was very durable and also was able to hold out rain with relatively easy. Tightly woven it could be used to either cover supplies or goods from the often-rainy weather of the Isle or to keep a man warm. It was much better then any of the regular blankets sold and had highlander made quality all over it. (2 Lance)
4) This was being given in a woolsack, which could be rolled up and tightened with a wool band for easy carrying and placed above or below a backpack. It could be used to sleep on making the cold ground more bearable. Same highlander quality as the blanket it looked like something you’d see a clansmen use itself. (2 Lance)
Ymir explained the usage of the items supplied in the Kit, which he had gathered for them. Everything looked rather dull in their brown colour but it supplied some blending in with the surrounding, in contrast of flamboyant colours the more established elite units of Dort enjoyed using. The tunic could keep a man dry and warm as well suited to be under a suit of arms ranging from humble leather up to chain or even plate. Still one had to heed his warning that even with these items a night in the heights was still chill filled and it also was hard to determine how the highlanders would respond to their presence… It would took some courage, perserverance and will to make a difference and to survive the unslaught.
Please join the Battle of Islay thread in Islay.
https://tazlure.nl/board/viewtopic.php?t=11415
This thread is now locked and sent for Skills.
https://tazlure.nl/board/viewtopic.php?t=11415
This thread is now locked and sent for Skills.
