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Shadows in War: A Lore of Darkness Chronicle

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Post by Cowboy Wed Jan 27, 2016 8:55 pm

Shadows in War foreword
After nearly a decade of fighting in the crusades, King Nicholas Daverax was killed on the icey battle field in the north, Trilogy Gate. A tormented land, scared and desolate, its haunting visage thinly veiled by the unyielding snowfall. After his death, the Ghenrean forces withdrew and slowly started returning home. Thousands of crusaders who had known little else but war and blood shed for much of their young adult life, suddenly faced with the idea of civilian life. For these crusaders, The Kingdom of Ghenrael was home, many months travel south and despite being away for so long, each crusader remembered what home was like.

They remembered Ghenrael was a kingdom surrounded by mountains, with the exception of the north, which was lined with sheer cliffs and pebbled beaches. They remembered Ghenrael's rugged alpine lands blanketed in lush and stoic forests, dotted and streaked by raging rivers and expansive lakes. They knew this Kingdom, while the smallest in the realms of man, was the most fertile and abundant, an agricultural marvel supported by lucrative trades centralised on the largest trade port in all of the north.

Despite Ghenrael's boons, and unknown to the crusaders, the kingdom had fallen to the folly of its rulers. Taxes and Tithes taken without measure for sustainability in the name of glory and righteousness, masks in this case for greed and pride. The kingdom soon became crippled by the demands of endless war, and when the kingdom could give no more, the crown borrowed coin from profiteering factions to quench the cost of bloodshed. Following King Nicholas' death, his son Prince Gwain of only seventeen, ascended to the throne and along with the crown and the dominions it represented, Gwain also inherited years of accumulated debt. Gwain's solution to the economic turmoil was to increase the already unsustainable taxes and tithes which provoked his lords and ladies into open rebellion.

As the threat of civil war looms, winter draws ever closer with the promise of blood shed and destruction. This winter, as any other, brings the decent of the orcs from their lofty mountain dwellings eager to murder and pillage. Each year the kingdom has risen to defend itself against this blight united, but this winter is proving to be far different than the countless that have passed before it.


Opening scene
It is the renaissance, a time of philosophy, intellectual pursuit and colonisation in a world where evil and its twisted denizens are unceasingly attempting to tear the mortal world asunder. The Brightwater lands in the north-west of the Ghenrean Kingdom encompass agricultural plains, mountainous foothills and dense great-wood forests. At the heart of these lands, comprised of innumerable monolithic buildings and structures stands the gothic visage of Van'tese. Nestled deep within this suburban jungle of carved stone and wood is a Tavern, stacked two levels high, called the Malt'n'Boar Lodge. The first snow of the winter has begun to fall dusting the roofs, roads and eaves with white frosting carried on chilly winds. Many horse drawn carts, strolling citizens and patrolling guards move along the cobbled labyrinth branches as the night grows older with each passing moment.

The Malt'n'Boar is one of the local's best kept secrets and is commonly the watering hole for local hunter's visiting town and Holon dwarves looking to pay too much for a proper malted brew. The interior is a canvas of beer stained hard woods, decorated with a combination of dwarven regalia and local hunting trophies, including stuffed bears and wolves, mounted deer and moose heads, ornaments made from beast horns and teeth and skulls and comfortable throws made from pelts and leathers. The tavern itself is owned and run by an ex-pelt hunter team from the north, and managed by their old leader Deter Golgar.

At corner table with bench seats draped in deer and ox pelts, by a window externally framed with building snow, the companions arrive one by one and begin to discuss their plans and reflect on events past by the light of horn mounted oil lanterns and candles.  

Note:


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Post by Cowboy Wed Jan 27, 2016 9:23 pm

Map:


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Post by Cowboy Wed Jan 27, 2016 9:25 pm

Map:
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Post by Comander.c Sat Jan 30, 2016 10:10 pm

It was still early morning, at least by bar standards, when the elderly dwarf sauntered in to the Malt'n'Boar. He had the weathered leathery skin common of his elder race, and while some small effort was made in tying up his shaggy hair, his beard was left to cover his broad chest in all its frosted white glory.

All in all, it would not be a far miss aesthetically to mistake the dwarfs morning demeanor for a destitute drunkard. But this bar was not known for such clientele, and this particular Dwarf could not be further from that description in honor and purpose.

His name was Thorgrim Ciedhiocghan, Known as either Thorgrim or Old Master Cie in this particuler bar, and he was an old Master Sargent of the Crystalforge Clan.

219 years old, Thorgrim has suffered a terrible head injury in his youth that had left him not himself for many decades. When War came to his clan however, all of that changed. The thrill of battle awoke something inside of him, and he as been striving ever since to hold on to the precious spark of excitement in warriors life.

But today was not a day for fighting, Today was a day for drinking, and preparing to fight tomorrow.

"Boar and malt, double boar!" he called to the barkeep with a smile, as he took a seat at the usual corner table him as his compatriots would argue around. The morning tavern girl made sauntered over, depositing a flagon with a friendly expression. Taking a small sip of the Malt Ale the dwarf said "You know what, make it a double malt too." as he handed over payment, with a little extra for the kind young lass who reminded him of a dwarf girl he knew once...
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Post by Comander.c Mon Feb 01, 2016 2:27 pm

Spoiler:
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Post by Cowboy Mon Feb 01, 2016 2:46 pm

***************************  Mean While  *******************************

Running through the centre of Van'tese is the D'bris River steaming from Brightwater Lake and its Mountainous origins beyond. Sturdy stone and wood bridges of varying ages criss-cross the D'bris, the most notable of them all is the bridge of Tudor Towers, the Keep of Van'tese. Over three generations, the town has slowly grown as new buildings were constructed as dwellings or lots serving as outlets for goods and services. Tudor Tower's however, was present long before the Ghenraen Kingdom was founded by the House of Daverax five generations ago.

Tudor Towers, was originally a weathered and abandoned keep awarded to House Brightlen when the Ghenrean Kingdom was founded, along with the Brightwater lands, for loyalty and demonstrated valour in service to the new Kingdom. Tudor Towers during this time, was the lair of the River Drake Kelmoth. The beast was eventually killed by the Lady Malitia Brightlen, daughter to the first lord of Brightlen. Today, Tudor towers stands restored in all its glory, and in its main court stands a huge stone fountain of a River Drake looming over Malitia breathing a torrent of water against her raised shield while she plunged her spear into its chest.

On this day a small battalion of soldiers and mounted knights flying the banner of the crown marched across town and into the stone court of Tudor Towers. An intimidating spectacle interrupting the mediocrity of the locals' daily lives. Considering the current state of the kingdom and rumours carried by cart and crow, the presence of such as force was tense and unsettling.

Lord Adhemar Brightlen was sitting in the great auditorium hall of Tudor Towers. As custom dictated Lord Brightlen was dressed in his finest attire, a fine linen shirt with laced cuffs under a exquisite high collared purple noblemen's suit and tabard bearing the sigil of his house. Adhemar also worn his House mask, a Ghenrean tradition practised by all in the kingdom, for an unmasked face was considered garish in the Ghenraen culture. The Brightlen house Mask was polished steel forged in the likeness of a River Drake, plated with silver scales. Around the court were the Brightlen guard, wearing less extravagant tabards bearing the mark of House Birghtlen over their Chainmail armour and dark garbs befitting soldiers. Their Helmets fitted with an attached Brightlen Guard mask giving the soldiers the appearance of men with steel drake heads.

Into the grand hall escorted by a group of guards marched a Knight Captain of the Royal Chevaliers and his personal retinue adorned in similar regalia instead bearing the mark of the Ghenraen King, a golden Lion. The Knights Helms rather than Drakes, were made in the likeness of lions. The escorted men eventually came to a halt and the Leading lion addressed the seated Drake, his voice carrying the weight of the crown he represented.

"Lord Brightlen, I must apologise for not sending prior word regarding our visit"

The Drake's demeanour was veiled by his mask, he was both agitated and concerned. The presence of a Royal Chevalier in Brightwater, in light of the Kingdom's current state, was troubling.
"Representitives of his Highness' court are always welcome in this house, Sir Mydas"

The Lion's stance shifted to support a curious bow.
"I see my reputation proceeds me, and I thank you for your graciousness Lord Brightlen."

The Drake was well versed in diplomacy and he was taking ever precaution not to antagonise the Knight. For this one in particular did have a considerable reputation. One of ruthlessness, warmongering and malevolence. When the Ghenrael army first joined the Crusades in the north, Sir Mydas was among the first to take up arms. Over the years many whispered rumours of terrible war crimes being committed by the Knight Mydas and those under his command. The Drake was concerned and wondered what the presence of such a man would mean for him and his people.

As the Lion finished speaking, Lord Brightlen replied.
"As I was not given forewarning of your arrival, I am afraid I am neither aware of the reason for your visit, nor have my people had time to prepare for your stay."

Sir Mydas smiled, though it was hidden beneath his lion faced helm. The lord was caught of guard, and in this battle of wits, the Lion had the Advantage.

"Of course Lord, I understand, and may I once more apologise for the trespass. The reason for our attendance in Brightwater is to ensure order and strict adherence to his highness' laws and royal decrees."

Lord Brightwater listened on, his concerns turning into fear with each word the lion spoke.
"I pride myself on the lawful conduct of my house and my people, surely the need for a renowned Knight and Crusader such as yourself is an exaggeration."

The lion gave a knowing gesture to one of his retinue who quickly produced a scroll which was then handed to one of the Drake's guards. Receiving the scroll, Lord Brightlen broke the Royal seal and began to read. After a courteous pause, the Lion spoke.

"You see Lord, the Ghenraen's involvement in the Crusades has ended and His highness' gaze now settles on the state of his kingdom, and his highness' is displeased with what he sees. It is my job to ensure the measures he is employing to restore the glory of his majesties' kingdom are followed without question. Failure to do so is treason, punishable by"

The Drake's gaze locked with the Lion's has he finished reading the words scribed upon the scroll, finishing the Knight's sentence.
"Death..."

Sir Mydas smiled, and though the Drake could not see it, the Knight's eyes gleamed with malicious excitement.
"My battalion and I will reside at the east wall Garrison here in town while we conduct his Majesties business, I trust we have your full cooperation, Lord?"

Lord Brightlen was still shocked by the escalation. He wanted to order his guard to draw steel and act on this great offence here and now, but doing so would likely end in his death. Moreover, Adhemar had only one son, Wylliam, and were he to die the illegitimacy of Wylliam's birth would mean the land would be awarded to another, like Sir Mydas. The Drake grew angry at the decree, yet another increase in the royal tax and tithe and the presence of Marauders wielding the royal colours to enforce this robbery. The Drake would have retribution, but for now he was forced to play the diplomat.

******************************** Later that day *********************************

Sir Mydas dispatched messengers to post notice of the royal decree, stating the increase in tax and tithe. Groups of Ghenraen soldiers matched through Van'tese and to surrounding villages to begin the task of collecting the dues and punishing those who could not or would not pay. Tensions between the Ghenraen soldiers and the Brightwater guard were growing as kingdom politics justified innumerable executions.    

Wylliam stood by the window of his fathers study hall overlooking the town below. His expression filled with frustration, but hidden by his wooden mask. It was the same as his father's in design yet the fact it was made from wood noted him as a commoner, or in this case a bastard child. His father had just finished explaining all that had happened and the political stance they had been forced to take. Wylliam, like his father a hostile course of action would spark a civil war between the King and Brightwater, inevitably ending in the end of House Brightlen. The lands would then go to another trusted by the King and its people would be faced with a greater suffering than now. No, if action is to be taken it would need to be subtle and tactful. Thought this development could not have come at a more difficult time. Wylliam's gaze rose to the horrizon toward Brightwater Lake. Though it could not be seen, Wylliam knew of the undead hordes and orc tides were tormenting his homeland.

Wylliam's consecration was broken when he felt his fathers hand firmly squeeze his shoulder.
"Politics is as greater weapon as a sword or rifle in the hands of the right man son. We will find a way to weather this storm, let it be us wielding the thunder and lightening."

Wylliam looked to this father. Before he could reply, hss attention was stolen by a figure dressed in blackened cloths and leathers, his mask absent of detail and markings with the exception of a blue key drawn vertically across the right eye. Lord Brightlen and Wylliam turned to face the roguish individual who then spoke.

"My Lord, I bring word from Anvil Gate."
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Post by Fabulous Mon Feb 01, 2016 6:42 pm

After her long tiring day, the priestess pushed open the door to the Malt'N'Boar while running a hand over her intricately crafted stag mask and through her hair, brushing off the excess snow falling consistently outside from her shoulders. Her normally pristine white priestess robes were disheveled and dirty, with blood splatters, torn seams and fraying hems; her skin had a layer of sweat and grime, the engraving on the inside of the ivory mask "cervus non cervus" was digging into the priestess's forehead, and she smelled like she hadn't showered in days.  

The look of annoyance that crossed her face as she stepped over the threshold of the tavern door disappeared as the warmth of the Malt'N'Boar enveloped Adrysse Gothard. She was not one to be dismayed by the state of her appearance, but the cold temperature and constant fall of the snow irked the 19 year old priestess.  

Adrysse glanced reprehensively around the common room as she continued further into the tavern; it seemed her renown for performing miracles among these parts grew as they recognized a representative of the church of Augustown, where her patron Chaplain Renee De'Cartae had adopted her. While Renee did enjoy Adrysse's infamous reputation, it only seemed to cause disapproval for the young female in unfamiliar territory.  

Upon reaching the corner table where her dwarf companion already resided, she called to Deter Golgar for a glass of water and an apple. Settling into a beer stained wooden chair draped in deer and ox pelts, Adrysse became inattentive to her companion as she finished observing the common room; all the stuffed animals and mounted hunter trophies made her skin crawl but after her adventures so far it wasn't unanticipated. Curling up next to a stuffed wolf, she began concentrating on her companion and started discussing future events and adventures to be had.
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Post by Comander.c Mon Feb 01, 2016 11:04 pm

As the young priestess had entered the Tavern, the Dwarf sat motionless, his eyes glazed over in a blank stare. He had been sitting this way for a few minuets as his mind wandered to his past...
=============================================================

The sounds of screaming and battle were all around. The two children were running up the hill, trying to get to the caravan and flee with the others. The younger boy tripped and fell over a fallen dwarf, someone the boy would have known but could not identify thru the bloody gore drenched beard. The girl, the one that the Tavern girl reminded Thorgrim of, pulled up her smaller brother, and yelled for him to run, But she knew the delay would be fatal.

She picked up the fallen dwarfs axe, and prepared to stand and fight, so her brother may have a chance to flee.

The axe looked ridiculous in the small dwarfetts hands.

The undead were comeing, skeletal figures skittering and stalking, looking for prey.

Suddenly a hand gripped the girls shoulder, she flinched with a start, swinging the axe wildly in reflex, but another hand caught the shaft. "You shouldn't play with sharp axes now, little Bonnie" Said a deep aged voice. For but a moment, the girl had dared to hope she may be safe, but there was something off about the old Dwarf..

He smiled. It was a kind smile, and would have been comforting any other day. But not today, for it was an Idiot's smile. The old Dwarf was an Invalid of the clan, War wounded, he had the remains of an ancient blade sticking out from his brow above his right eye. She knew the story, the blade should have killed the Elder centuries when it was thrust into his skull, and tho he had survived the blow, his mind was not intact.

The girl had once heard her little brother, who was at this time running over the hill to safety, ask why they hadn't removed the blade from the Elders head, and her mother had told him it would Kill the dwarf to do so. He had been a hero once, so mother had said, and so the clan took care of him in his dotage.

A skeleton was almost on them then. The Old Dwarf turned, seemingly without fear to face the beast. The girl cried out in thanks, and she began to try catch up with her brother.

As she ran, she heard the Old Dwarf greet the Skeleton. "Hellooo!~" he said loudly and dumbly. The girl had risked a look back, and saw the Skeleton pounce at the Elder. The poor fool hadn't even had the axe up, he was actually waving at the creature.

There was a spray of blood as the Skeleton smacked the dwarf in the head. The Elder dropped, and the Undead beast barely missed a step as it continued to bound after the girl.

The girl screamed as the undead tackled her to the ground, and kept screaming.


=============================================================
Thorgrim remembered the chaos of that day, and the first kill he made in defense of his people in this land. His blank stare flickered, his glazed eyes started to follow the familiar Tavern Girl.
=============================================================

Thorgrim hacked at the Skeleton, its brittle ribs shattering. It spun around in a way that was not natural, and made to swipe at him. He was faster, his axe catching the skull of the beast, and it went still.

There was a little dwarf girl beneath the bones, covered in blood. Without a moments consideration, he picked up the lass, and felt shallow breaths as he cradled her in his left arm. Keeping his axe up in his right, he made for the sounds of other Dwarfs. He had no idea what was happening any more, and he didn't need his years of training to know to withdraw was the only option in such circumstances.

The little Dwarf girl looked up at the Eldar who carried her, and did not recognize him. It was not because the blood and gore that matted his beard and face, but the fresh scar above his Right eye. The shattered blade was gone, leaving only a freely bleeding gash, set above an expression of grim resolution.

=============================================================

Thorgrim was brought back to reality by the young human priestess as she sat down. He wondered for a moment if that Dwarf lass survived that day. In the Chaos that followed his awakening, he never had found a moment to check.

"Greetings young Adrysse" he began, before taking in the humans appearance "You look like you could use something harder than water, or at least alot more than to drink, and warmed up in a bath!"
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Post by Cowboy Mon Feb 08, 2016 12:12 pm

As the night moved on Torvus and Merick soon joined their companions around the table. The share light conversation over their hearty meals and appreciated the melodies of the minstrel present in the lodge. One by one the four heroes lumber their way up the stair to find their sweet refuge of their beds. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.
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Post by Cowboy Mon Feb 08, 2016 12:17 pm

The midday sun streamed in through the bedroom's windows, draping the hall in hues of yellow. Snow still fell outside and the chilled air easily subdued and attempt the sun made to warm those it touched. Each member had once more taken residence on their chosen beds in the room, their posture and brow weighted with the investigation and the tasks still at hand. For all their progress, their was still so much to do, and the lords life was still very much in danger. However, each took comfort or pride in their efforts that saved the Sharron, her Daughter and the Cobalt Key informant. As they a sat around in the comforts and privacy of their room, the group began to discuss their details and their approach to the Ball that was to be held tomorrow night.
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Post by Mifurey Sun Feb 21, 2016 9:47 pm

Eadwine absently ruffled through his research notes; the stolen ones which he'd secreted under his bed in the Malt'n'Boar during their escapades yesterday. This was more to give his hands something to do than anything else. He read blankly, paying no attention to the words on the page or his companion's conversation. Too many things were battling for attention in his mind to concentrate on any one for a length of time.

Milburga... why would the Chevalier abduct her? Her research was important---crucial even---but still a far cry from the science being performed by Bogglebang and Merryn.

Eadwine mentally scolded himself for a moment spent contemplating Merryn's alluringly unmasked face, such a rarity in Ghenrael. What would Charlotte think? Eadwine realised he did not know anymore. Their parting had been less amicable than Eadwine had wished, and with her new involvement with Peta there was no knowing where her allegiances might lie. Still, she was wearing the ring. With an inward sigh Eadwine acknowledged that he would have to confront this at some point.

Just not yet.

Yes, that was the right decision, Eadwine tried to convince himself. There was too much happening to worry about what might have been. Focus on saving Lord Brightwater, then worry about Charlotte. Too many unknowns.

Besides, he, Eadwine, had killed a man now. And not just one. They had the lowest form of scum in Ghenrael, but they were still men. How would he explain that?

He'd already wiped the blood from his rapier and re-oiled it, but the smell was still in his nostrils. He was surprised to feel little guilt. Sorrow, yes. Anger, but not against himself. It galled him that these Faceless thugs were here in Van'Tese, violating people's families and plotting to remove one of the few just rulers in Ghenrael. Blast!

The paper crinkled as he shuffled it again.

Sharron would be needing a purge tonic, and the sooner the better. He'd have to ask Adrysse...

Eadwine looked forward to reading 'Jack and the Beanstalk' to Clara; the girl reminded him so strongly of Aethelthryth. Reading to her had always been one of Eadwine's favourite things. He fervently hoped she was still OK: Auskell had been in chaos when he left.

Turning over the paper...

Eventually the pragmatic part of Eadwine took over and banished his introspection. The immediate pressing issues were tending to Sharron and figuring out how to play his role as a Brightwater servant whilst leaving himself able to counter any threats to his Lord's life.

Time to get started.

"Adrysse, do you know how to make a purge tonic?"
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Post by Fabulous Wed Feb 24, 2016 5:33 pm

Lying on her bed in the Malt'n'Boar, Adrysse began to meditate and revise the past events, what could have been done differently or better, her actions and what she could have done differently or better; taking responsibility for her actions, good or bad. Even though she was good with her gun, she needed to work on her magical abilities. Recently she discovered new things she could do with her magic, like absorbing the magic infused in "Dust".

She couldn't understand or comprehend how someone could take advantage of someone else's life and be so cruel that they control it with a drug; and it's not just a drug, but instead infused with magic. Which means that only someone with magical abilities could make it, and they could manipulate the addict to do anything for the drug. It's disgusting and horrible and wrong.

It's bad enough the world is the way it is, but these people who got a kick out of using people, controlling people and just being plain cruel - manipulating, abusing, raping, torturing and murdering; just the thought made the priestess's blood boil. She may have been only nineteen but she was a lot more mature and understood a lot more than she let on.

"Adrysse, do you know how to make a purge tonic".

Eadwine's voice drew her out of her introspected reverie. Blinking a few times, she rubbed her eyes and took in the golden room. The midday sunlight streaming through the windows was refreshing after the past few dull days of heavy snow clouds and the dark, dank of the sewers. After the priestess's eyes had adjusted to the brightness, she drank some water before responding,

"What's a purge tonic and should I know how to make one?"

Feeling utterly confused about whether or not she should know how to make a 'purge tonic', the next question she asked was,

"Could you ask Merryn?"


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Post by Mifurey Fri Feb 26, 2016 9:47 am

Eadwine bit back a sharp retort. Why was the blasted priestess so blase about everything?

Two things held his tongue; one was the knowledge that he was new to this group and had better not push his luck (especially since she could summon aether lightning...). The other was a growing suspicion that the priestess' flippant responses hid a very deep hurt.

"I could ask Merryn, but she'd probably demand money which I don't have," sighed Eadwine. Plus she probably wouldn't be wearing a mask, again... "A purge tonic is designed to remove addictive substances from a person, by the way. I've heard of them but have no idea how to make one. I thought since you were skilled in healing you might know..."
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Post by Popdart5 Fri Feb 26, 2016 11:37 am

It felt nice to relax in the warming sunlight after spending the morning traipsing through the dark and shit-encrusted sewers. Merick leaned against his bed to soak up the sun's warmth as he carefully watched his muscles slowly lose their enhanced tone. It might be hard work being that crazy alchemist's tester but at least it paid decently.

Merick looked up from where he had gazing as he rested against the side of his bed frame. The newcomer, Eadwine, and the priestess were quietly discussing something quietly but his ears pricked up at Eadwine's last comment. "Who needs a purge tonic?" he interjected from his reclined position.

He stretched his arms as he yawned and caught the sun's rays that came in through the window. Merick shook his head and his grimy brown dreadlocks flung about with the motion. "We can get a purge tonic once we get paid but that won't be until tomorrow at the earliest," he said before straightening up against the bed. "Speaking of which, how are we going to catch these wannabe killers? It sounds like the Faceless have as many backup plans as Torvus has arrows and I reckon those stupid knights also have their own plan if things go belly up."
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Post by Fabulous Sun Feb 28, 2016 11:02 am

Screwing up her graceful features, the priestess was still disgusted by Merick's distasteful hair, but kept it to herself as the mercenary sat up and shook his head. As she sat on her bed, she thought about Eadwine's response. Adrysse may be a priestess but she had never been one to be refined to a profession. She knew how to fight but she wasn't just a fighter; she knew how to heal but she wasn't just a healer. She knew about addictive substances but she didn't know how to make them, use them or rehabilitate someone addicted to them. She was so sick of being stereotyped to being a certain priestess.

Noticing she was working herself up, she took a few deep breaths and re-thought the situation.

Sharron hadn't been given Dust, she was just given another addictive substance. While no rehabilitative cure has been found for Dust, the local monastery should be able to rehabilitate Sharron from her addiction, and help her and her daughter Clara with their traumatic experience over the past few weeks.

"It sounds like the Faceless have as many backup plans as Torvus has arrows and I reckon those stupid knights also have their own plan if things go belly up".

Merick's voice broke through her chain of thought.

Plan. The word kept reverberating around the priestess's head but she couldn't think of anything useful except for the monastery rehabilitation.

"I don't know all that much about addictive substances but I'm sure the Van'Tese monastery would have some rehabilitation options and could help Sharron and Clara's traumatic experience as well, and it won't cost anything", she replied nonchalantly.
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Post by Comander.c Sun Feb 28, 2016 7:03 pm

Thorgrim half-listened to his compatriots chatter as he worked on polishing his hauberk for tomorrows ball. Lain Dow beside him were his best deep red tunic with a silk spun silver colored knotwork round the collar and buttons, and brown breeches beside well shined boots. The dwarf glanced at them, he knew that by the balls standards he would appear drab. But then again as a maskless dwarf, that was inevitable, and the thought of the garish style of the locals upon a dwarf caused a wave of embarrassment. No, better to look like a Noble Dwarf, than try fit in with the local circus.

At the priestesses nonchalant reply Thorgrim piped in "The lass has a good point. The convent would be a good place in many ways for the family, leastways if they are anything like the dwarfish priesthood." He lowered his tone "not to mention the husband is a traitor and even with allowances cannot remain with his lord. The girls could fare well tho, either way..."
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Post by Mifurey Sun Feb 28, 2016 9:32 pm

The air escaping Eadwine's mouth could have been a sigh of relief or a sigh of frustration: even he could not really tell anymore. Still, Adrysse offered a great solution to the problem posed by Sharron and Clara.

"That's brilliant," he said to Adrysse sincerely. "We might need to send Vincent their way shortly after the ball too."

With that piece of his mind at peace, Eadwine turned back to considering Merrick's questions. He was right, if not eloquent; they were likely to be plans and back-up plans, and maybe even plans within plans.

He had a few thoughts, but found something so surreal about the idea of killing somebody by dropping a chandelier on their head that he could not really take any of them too seriously. Still, he had to...

Wouldn't poison be an obvious thing to try? After all, there was guaranteed to be food. Maybe someone should snoop around the kitchens? A poisoned bottle of wine and a toast could go a long way towards an assassination.

A dagger in the back? Probably too obvious.

An alchemical trap, which would explode when a tile was stepped on or a wire was tripped or some such? This could work as a back-up, but it could hardly be made to look like an accident.

Eadwine outlined these ideas to Merrick and Adrysse, loudly enough that Thorgrim could hear (he was sure that Torvus would have no problems) too, and awaited their responses.
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Post by Comander.c Mon Feb 29, 2016 9:31 pm

Thorgrim nodded at Eadwine's comment, considering the matter settled for the moment.

"As for the rest, id well say you are right Merrick, After all this whole mess seams a tad more up your ally..." He let the implication settle before continuing "as for their plans, i can well doubt we will be able to consider anything the local court has not. And less so whatever actual scheams the Skal bastards. We could plan for everything, and should be ready as such. But i don't like it one bit.. Like heading into an ambush knowing right well its there but with no idea of what may comprise it..."

The old dwarf lay down his shining mail, and reached for his Axe. The weapon's fearsome blade was somewhat more tame while locked in its blade cover. The Dwarf set about polishing the worn leather knot-work and pondered how best to make it more parade worthy.

"I've got only the one idea, and that is to go for their command... Perhaps, if we can capture the Assassin, he can be forced to implicate the true villain, giving an opportunity to bring this into the light."
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Post by Mifurey Mon Feb 29, 2016 11:40 pm

"Surely you're not talking about trying to take on the Chevalier? That would lead to a war that Lord Brightwater could not win without support from other cities." Eadwine was somewhat aghast following the dwarf's comments. "If the assassins"---he stressed the plural---"could be captured in a covert manner then Lord Brightwater could use them as leverage, true, but it could not be done in a public manner. Leastways, not yet."

Eadwine paused for a moment to gather his thoughts.

"We do have one advantage: we gain the initiative the moment that the chandelier trap fails. They don't know that we know about it. What we need to do is figure out how to maintain that advantage."
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Post by Comander.c Tue Mar 01, 2016 1:27 pm

The dwarf chuckled darkly. "You're right young lad, but from what I've seen that war is already started, in a cold shadowy way, and tis but a matter of time before it gets hot. That's what this is all about. If the shovler is incriminated legally, the war can be stalled a little longer. Else while if he is half the manling he's made out to be, there is little way this ends in peace that is not a victory of his design. He's a kingsman, so bet is its the kings work he does..." The dwarf glowered as he spoke, this whole situation was typical of human shortsighted stupidity... "Idiots the lot'a'em. Either way I want done with this foolery and back to the true war. Let the manling nobles handle their foolish politicking."
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Post by Comander.c Tue Mar 01, 2016 2:31 pm

"With the mess left in the sewers, I wouldn't be so sure of our element of surprise neither..." Thorgrim added hastily.

Usually he wound avoid lowering moral suchly, but this wasn't his usual kind of battlefield. It was more akin to guerrilla warfare, cowardly and honourless...
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Post by Mifurey Tue Mar 01, 2016 5:22 pm

"That was something that worried me too..." Eadwine was a little pale under his mask. "But see here Master Dwarf: I need the Lord's money more than I need this war at the moment, and I'd wager the Lord feels about the same. So, despite it being nonsense, can we try to keep him alive?"

Eadwine rubbed one hand up underneath his mask to wipe his face as he settled back onto his bed.

"If we're going for the 'drastic' option then I suggest we give the assassins what they want; let them think that they've killed Lord Brightwater. Could we arrange an illusion, or simulacrum of some type? Or else we could stage our own botched assassination and pin it on the Chevalier somehow.."
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Post by Popdart5 Tue Mar 01, 2016 8:34 pm

Merick let himself gradually slide down the side of the bed to follow the tracking sun. He was content to listen to everyone chatter back and forth but he grew a little frustrated as the conversation began to talk in circles.

"I think you all need to learn something about the Faceless," Merick stated as he pulled himself back up into a seated position. "We're crude, obvious, and not above straight up bastardry if the coin is good. The only reason that the Faceless in this town are being low key is because they don't have the power or money to run around like blind drunk hooligans. Killing the lord will get them that power and money and I bet they would throw everything they had at it for the chance."

Merick pulled one of the small pouches that he had stolen from the Faceless down in the sewers and casually began to toss it into the air. "Why do you think they bothered cooking up all this dust, huh?" he asked rather abruptly. "They didn't need all of this stuff just to keep the women under control and we haven't seen anyone else buying this stuff off the streets. I mean, shit, this stuff could supercharge one of their assassins and he could mind control the lord into slitting his own throat. Or they could mix the dust into all of the food and drink and have everyone go nuts with magic. When the Faceless kill someone, they make it bloody obvious that they're responsible."

He caught the pouch and stowed it away at his belt before he stood up and stretched his arms. "And besides," Merick said as he stifled a yawn, "even if we stop the Faceless assassins, the Chevalier knights will find some other way to take down the lord. I've heard that if they want anything, no matter what it is, they'll get it through any means necessary. I'm going to need a lot more silver and gold if they want me to save the lord's life again after this."


Last edited by Popdart5 on Wed Mar 02, 2016 12:22 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Post by Comander.c Tue Mar 01, 2016 10:20 pm

Thorgrim grimaced as Merric talked about his scoundrel kin. "hmm" he grunted, not without appreciation of the Mercenary's point.

Addressing Eadwine the dwarf lightened up "You should be proud of your schooling lad, that's rather genius. But how would we go about doing it?"
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Post by Mifurey Wed Mar 02, 2016 12:43 am

Eadwine blinked, somewhat surprised that Thorgrim agreed. "Thank you," he responded after a moment. He turned back to Merick. "Merick, I agree with you in part." Eadwine strove to explain without being patronising. "The fact is that in all likelihood the Faceless are not the only ones involved in this operation. It is clear that the Chevalier is just using them as a front to give himself plausible deniability. He won't unambiguously reveal himself as the source of these assassination attempts until he's ready to declare war upon the Lord in the King's name."

He turned back to Thorgrim (what were Adrysse and Torvus up to?). "I have only foggy ideas: perhaps a fake assassination could be made using a paralytic instead of a poison. Maybe some sort of magical transportation: that sort of thing isn't up my alley. Or perhaps Merryn could cook up some simulucrum which would stand in the Lords place."


Last edited by Mifurey on Wed Mar 02, 2016 9:37 am; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Clarity: my 12:30 am brain thought it was smarter than it actually was.)
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