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RonSWEF
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Plot Logs
Herewith, ye shall find those logs written by myself that pertain primarily to the overall storyline of A Candle in Chaos rather than to Martin... Read them well.
---
"Define interesting."
"Oh God, oh God, we're all gonna die?"
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26/May/05, 11:31 pm
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RonSWEF
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Plot Log
The room was bright and warm with late-afternoon sunlight. The so-called emissary stood in the middle of the room, facing the gathered members of the de facto government of La Motte. Duke Vincent sat in the central chair, looking the stranger over with a measuring gaze. On his right, Mayor Boumart was idly mending a worn blouse, her domestic appearance almost hiding the keen look in her eye. Next to her was Anne Rois et Reines, apparently serving as secretary, pen poised to take notes. Jean-Marie sat on the Duke’s left, hands resting on the hilts of his weapons in clear warning, and next to him was Father Sebastien, sitting quietly.
The man in front of them was a figure that inspired distrust easily. He wore his hair long, with an unevenly trimmed beard. His clothes were functional and recently washed, but the practiced eye could note a few old bloodstains here and there. He carried no weapons, but he wore sheaths for swords and daggers, and holsters for a brace of pistols. Over top it all he wore an ankle-length cloak of mottled cat fur. He was a Blood Hunter. A slaver. And he had arrived under a flag of truce. “Noble sirs, gentle ladies,” the slaver emissary began, “I am Claude Toussand, and I bring you greetings from Remy de Renard, Captain of the Hunt and ruler of Vergogne. He sends me as an emissary of peace and friendship, in the hopes that our two cities can find common ground on which to build upon in these troubled times.”
Madame Irene snorted and looked up from her mending. “Peace and friendship, from slaver scum? The only thing I’d like to build is a pike to put your head on.” Her bitterness was only partly an act, she’d put in her share of time tending to the freed prisoners from the slaver camp raid some weeks back, and some of the things she’d seen still made the old woman’s blood boil.
The slaver tried to ignore her. “Captain de Renard has authorized me to negotiate a treaty of peace and mutual benefit, and by now of course you have received our token of goodwill…”
Jean-Marie scowled. “You call eight people in chains a token of goodwill? We do not keep slaves, maggot, this kind of gift,” he spat out the words like it was wormy pork, “is an insult to everything we stand for.”
Toussand raised his hands as if to ward off Jean-Marie’s anger. “Noble sirs, we are not asking you to keep slaves. In fact we made their chains and collars easy to remove, as Captain de Renard knew that they would be freed the moment they came into your hands. This is what we offer you, noble sirs, a chance to do the same for the other …people in our care.”
The Duke raised an eyebrow slowly. “Explain yourself,” was all he said.
“Noble sirs, this has been a hard winter for us, as it has been for everyone. However, Vergogne was not spared the ravages of the Madness in the way your lands obviously have been. Food is becoming scarce, and we cannot afford to feed our people for much longer. Thus, we offer you a deal, an exchange of resources if you will. Share with us what food and other materials you can spare, and in return we will deliver you our excess population. You of course will remove their, shall we say ‘excess accouterments’, and everyone will be happy.”
Jean-Marie spluttered, and only Duke Vincent’s hand on his shoulder prevented him from drawing steel on the spot. The Duke frowned. “And if we do not accept your ‘offer?’”
Toussand shook his head sadly. “Then times will become very hard for our people. Many innocents will suffer while we try to find alternative methods of feeding them. The farms around Vergogne were devastated, and we will not be able to restore them in time for a proper harvest this season. We have been hunting a great deal, but the local game and what remains of our city’s once-stupendous cat population can only last so long…” He bowed. “Noble sirs, gentle ladies, I ask that you think of the innocent lives that are within your power to save… With your permission, I will leave you to consider.”
Duke Vincent nodded, and the guards escorted the slaver emissary out of the room. Vincent looked around at his council. “Well?” he asked.
***
Far to the north, a cold mist hung low over an abandoned fishing village on the coast of Doré. The people had fled months ago, most of them taking their boats and sailing them to Avalon. Thus, there was no one there to hear the soft rhythmic pound of drums in the mist. No one saw the carved dragon heads emerge from the fog, and no one witnessed as men and women dressed in furs and rough wool beached their longships and began claiming their new home…
---
"Define interesting."
"Oh God, oh God, we're all gonna die?"
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26/May/05, 11:31 pm
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RonSWEF
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Plot Log
There was a knock at the door, and Mariel looked up. “Enter,” she said crisply.
Martin opened the door and stepped inside. “Sorry to bother you, Sergeant…”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t busy. Shouldn’t you be in town reading?”
“Mitigating circumstances, Sergeant. I need your advice on something.”
“Oh? Sit down, Corporal…” She pointed to a chair. Unlike Martin’s haphazard mess of crates, Mariel’s room was a Spartan model of efficiency and decorum. Her private area was hidden behind a curtain, leaving only a functional-looking desk and chairs within view. A map was tacked up on the wall behind her, and a small stand held her personal weapons and armor. It was, in short, a very military kind of office. “What’s on your mind?”
Martin hesitated. “What can you tell me about kobolds, Sergeant?”
Mariel frowned. “Why do you want to know?”
“Ninth Patrol came down with a plague of them today, while guarding a lumber crew. They signaled for help and we were nearby, but they still got beaten up pretty badly. No one killed, thank goodness, but there’s only two of them capable of standing right now.”
“Farmboys…” she sighed. “What the Captain ought to do is open a school for Patrol candidates and enroll the Ninth as the first class of students. How did your team fare?”
He shrugged. “We came out alright, only one person bit and not badly. He knew how to counteract the poison, so Miette was able to treat the Ninth and the lumber crew before anyone was in real danger.”
“Well done, then. What exactly do you need my advice about?”
Martin frowned a little. “Well, a few of them got away, and Vincent tells me that they’re very territorial and will continue to attack anyone who comes in the vicinity of their nest. What I need to know is how to find that nest and destroy it, we’ll be going out to finish the job first thing in the morning.”
Mariel’s face darkened. “Where exactly did you encounter them?” she asked, pulling out another map and laying it on the desk.
He pointed to a spot along a lesser-used road. “About here, I think. The survivors flew west, I’m not sure how far, though.”
“Flew? Those were gargoyles, then… More or less the same beast, but a gargoyle has different nesting habits. Kobolds prefer to burrow holes for themselves while gargoyles usually seek out caves, especially caves in cliff faces. There’s no caves or cliffs in that area, so most likely they’re hiding in some treetops. We’ll make sure to pack our crossbows…”
Martin blinked. “We? It’s our responsibility, we’ll take care of it.”
Mariel rolled up the map and stood up. “Don’t be silly, Corporal, you’re down a man and you’re on evening patrol tomorrow. Besides, you’re supposed to be it town putting a dent in your reading…”
He shook his head and stood up as well. “During my off-duty time. Cleaning nests of gargoyles out of work areas is duty.”
The older woman scowled at him. “Du Vraise, I am a graduate of the Gelingen Academy, I’ve been fighting kobolds, gargoyles, and other beasts since before you knew milk also came from cows. We’re patrolling that area tomorrow anyway, we’ll take care of them. Your team is not scheduled to patrol until the evening, and you do not want to irritate the Captain by skipping out on your reading. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to let my ladies know…”
Martin sighed as he walked out of her room and headed for his own. “We’ll see about that…”
---
"Define interesting."
"Oh God, oh God, we're all gonna die?"
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13/Jul/05, 11:33 pm
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RonSWEF
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The Morning After...
The office door opened, a head stuck itself in. “You wanted to see me, Captain?” Corporal “Lucky” Luc Loupe asked.
Captain Rois et Reines gave him a glare. “Sit, Loupe.”
Lucky sat, his smile fading a little. “Is there a problem, sir?”
Jean-Marie’s glare intensified. “No, not really. It seems that one of my patrol leaders was found this morning, stone drunk, raving like a madman, and tearing apart Madame Marie’s when he should have been with his unit for their morning patrol… Now in most places, this would be a problem, but since Phenix is only the anchor point of our northern border and is home to only two hundred or so people, I don’t see as anyone would be inconvenienced by this, how about you?”
Lucky sagged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, sir…”
“You’re not going to protest your innocence, then?”
“No, sir… You wouldn’t have called me in here unless you were certain of my involvement.”
Jena-Marie nodded. “True. However, explain to me exactly what you and your band of lunatics thought you were doing last night…”
Lucky leaned back in his chair and pulled the scarf from around his neck to mop his forehead. “Well, sir, we had been hearing rumors that Corporal du Vraise was starting to…well…” He swallowed. “He was letting the stress get to him. Apparently he had some sort of argument with Sergeant Etalon, which if you ask me isn’t so strange, dear Mariel has a terrible habit of only seeing things her way…”
Fanning himself with the scarf, he continued. “At any rate, we thought that what the good Corporal needed was a chance to relax, blow off a little pressure you might say… So last night we snuck over to the Tenth’s headquarters and absconded with him. He was fast asleep when we found him, so we just wrapped him up in a blanket, slung him over a horse, and carried him back to town. We gave him to Madame Marie with a healthy stack of tyros and instructions to not let him out until he was good and relaxed…” He sighed. “We didn’t know he’d been drinking…”
“You didn’t smell it on him?”
Lucky shrugged. “No sir, I suppose he forgot to spill it on himself…” He avoided mentioning the rest of the scene, the way du Vraise had been snuggled up with a member of his own unit…
Jean-Marie sighed. “So out of the goodness of your heart, you abducted another unit’s commander and purposefully made him miss his duty shift to get laid.”
“Well, when you put it that way…” Lucky winced.
“Look, Loupe, I’ve given you a lot of slack up til now, as I knew your pranks were more or less harmless and helpful for morale. Theus knows, some of the Patrols need a little lightening up. This time, however, you and Miette went too far.”
“Patrolman Rois et Reines wasn’t involved, Captain…”
Jean-Marie glared at him. “I’m tired, Loupe, not stupid. I already know she was the one who put you up to it.”
“Well, she and I discussed the idea, but she had no part in carrying it out. That was entirely a Third Patrol affair.”
“I don’t care if seven Patrols and two squads of Militia were involved! I had enough problems with du Vraise and the Tenth Patrol without your help, now I have to decide whether his little drunken rampage is sufficient grounds to discharge him from La Lanterne. I cannot afford to have a peacekeeper with the reputation he’s building, and neither do I need a unit dedicated to causing havoc with badly conceived prankishness.” Jean-Marie gave Lucky his fiercest glare. “The Patrol is the primary line of defense for La Motte. If you and yours cannot bear that in mind, I’m sure we can find something else for you to do. Is that clear, Loupe?”
Lucky winced. “Yes, sir…”
The Captain pulled a quill from its inkwell and began to write. “Now then, until further notice the Third Patrol is confined to the village of Reines during their off-duty hours. If any of you so much as set a foot in Bascone or particularly Phenix, I will yank your badges. Secondly, Loupe, your unit will be spending their off-duty hours for the next two weeks working in a timber crew without pay. If you’re all too tired to move, perhaps that will dampen your enthusiasm for stirring up trouble.”
Lucky sighed. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
Jean-Marie looked him over. “Granted, but make it quick.”
“Does this have anything to do with my involvement with your cousin?”
“Somewhat. Right now, I do not like the influence you have on her, and I am hoping that both of you will be too busy to get each other into any more trouble for a while. Unfortunately, I am not in a position to lock Miette in a tower, but as long as your relationship causes problems in the Patrol, I will do everything in my power to keep you two apart. Once the Tenth is straightened out, I may reconsider. Any other questions?” Lucky shook his head. “Dismissed, then.”
Lucky got up and left the office, looking a little thunderstruck. Jean-Marie leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead. “What a day…” he groaned. “And it’s not even noon yet.”
---
"Define interesting."
"Oh God, oh God, we're all gonna die?"
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27/Jul/05, 10:07 am
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RonSWEF
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The Morning After, Continued...
Martin groaned and rolled over. This quickly proved to be a mistake, as he ran out of cot long before he ran out of roll. He landed in a heap on the floor and winced. Either someone had been demonstrating horse cannons on his head, or he was in the throes of the second-worst hangover of his life… Eyes still shut tightly, he rolled onto his back and tried to reconstruct the evening. There had been wine, a lot of wine. A lot of wine, and a pair of beautiful dark eyes. He rubbed his head. That’s right, he’d been drinking wine with Selena up in the stable loft, and talking about…what?
He sat up slowly, even though it felt like a mistake. They’d talked about…family? And what else? He had a distinct impression that he’d made an idiot of himself. They’d gone to sleep in the loft. Nothing more memorable had happened, they were both too drunk for that. Martin shook his head slowly, the last time he’d gotten seriously drunk was two years ago in Carleon, but he remembered its effects quite well…
His mind swirled and lurched as new images began to float to the top. A room with lacy curtains and a big soft bed. Half a dozen beautiful women, most of them scantily clad. A chair cracking as he tried to break down a door with it. A big man wrestling him to the ground. He groaned and rubbed his face. “What did I do last night?”
“I can’t tell you, but whatever you did Jean-Marie is very unhappy about it…” A cool wet cloth pressed against his forehead. Martin carefully opened one eye and found himself looking up into the attractive face of Anne Rois et Reines, the wife of his commanding officer and former princess. “You’d better lie still for now, Corporal, apparently you’ve not only had a great deal to drink, but it looks like someone has all but cracked your skull as well…”
Martin nodded and felt his vision swim. “Knocked my head on something, wrestling a big man… Can’t remember what we were fighting about…”
There was the sound of a door opening. “You were fighting because you were trying to demolish a room with an oak dining chair. The man was Big Paul, the bouncer at Madame Marie’s, and for some reason he felt you were a danger to yourself and the women in the room with you.” Even though the fog of a hangover and a concussion, the Captain’s voice was unmistakeable.
Martin looked up at him slowly. “What was I doing there? I never go there…”
Jean-Marie scowled down at him as Anne slipped out the door. “What does one usually do at Madame Marie’s? Apparently Corporal Loupe paid for you to have the undivided attention of no less than six of the Madame’s finest employees, and you decided to go on a furniture rampage in some kind of manic attempt to escape. Beyond that, I neither know nor care what happened. What I know and care about is that you just shamed the Patrol and La Lanterne in front of the whole town.”
Tears stung at Martin’s eyes as it sunk in. “You’re going to pull my badge, aren’t you?” Maybe Nic would let him help with the convent…
The Captain shook his head. “No, I’m not. I’m going to pull your tabard.”
Martin blinked. “What?”
“You heard me, du Vraise. I’m suspending you from La Lanterne until further notice. I may remove you completely if this behavior continues.”
“What behavior?”
“Let’s see… Drunkenness, violence against private property, publicly arguing with other Patrol leaders, pushing your own Patrolmen to the brink of mutiny, ignoring orders from a superior officer, not to mention cutting corners on your punishment… Need I go on?”
Martin managed to pull himself back up onto the cot. “What’s going to happen, then?”
Jean-Marie folded his arms. “As I said, I’m pulling your tabard. That will render you ineligible to lead a Patrol, and thus the Tenth will be passed to someone else. You yourself will be on a few days of enforced rest until your concussion heals, then I will turn you over to someone who will either straighten you out or give me sufficient reason to remove you from the Patrol altogether. You’ve made a significant mess for me to clean up, du Vraise, and I suggest you try very hard to stay out any more trouble. Is that clear?”
Martin nodded. “Yes, sir…”
Jean-Marie scowled. “Get some rest, I’ll have food sent in to you later. Do not try to leave this room. I am not posting a guard on your door, so if there’s anything you need, do without until someone comes for you. The chamber pot’s in the corner, and there’s a pitcher of water on the dresser. I’ve got to finish straightening out your mess…”
As the Captain left and locked the door behind him, Martin looked down at his clothing. His tabard had already been removed, and his Patrol badge gleamed mockingly at him from his left shoulder. He scowled at it, wondering if he should just hand it in and get it over with…
---
"Define interesting."
"Oh God, oh God, we're all gonna die?"
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27/Jul/05, 10:08 am
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RonSWEF
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The Slavers Are Coming, The Slavers Are Coming!
About a day and a half later, the First Patrol were out for their morning sweep, when they heard the sound of hoofbeats fastly approaching. De Treville raised his arm in alert as the rest of the patrol paused. They listened as the pounding hoofs got closer. Suddenly, a streak of white in a cloud of dust, whipped by them so fast some of the members of the patrol blinked and missed it. Martin however, smiled knowingly to himself.
"What the...?" Madeline cried out as she held her horse steady. Some of the other mounts responded by dancing and rearing up, "Who in Theus's name WAS that....?"
Martin's horse Roderigo, was surprisingly steady as he chewed his bit calmly.
"There's only one person I know with a horse that fast..." he said as they watched the cloud of dust get further and further away by the second....
Selena was so close to Bascone, she could almost smell the alcohol as she bent low to Jo'Har's neck, letting the wind sweep over thier streamlined form. She wasn't even aware of the group she passed until she heard Jo'har recognize one of the horses.
Martin...? she thought and glanced back. She smiled and her heart pounded faster. No time for that now, Selena, you have a job to do...
She focussed her attention on the quickly approaching city and tugged Jo'har to a canter as they reached the edge of town.
"Well done, my friend," she praised her now sweating mare, "We're nearly there..."
She guided her horse though the streets of Bascone to La Lanterne Headquarters where she pulled her to a halt. She hopped down as soon as stopped in front of the building and tied Jo'har to the front rail. The white mare readily dipped her nose into the water trough before her.
"Not too much," Selena warned, "We have to ride to Phenix yet..."
She climbed the steps to the house and stopped as the front guard looked at her. He looked her up and down, his eyes resting on her badge.
"You're with the Tenth, aren't you?"
She nodded, "I need to see Captain Rois et Reines... it's an emergency..."
The guard stepped aside, "Of course, but he's in a meeting with the Council."
Selena smiled at this news, "Perfect...."
She entered the building and headed straight for the meeting room. She knocked on the door.
"Enter," Came the voice from inside. She opened the door and stepped inside looking for the Captain among the sea of faces gazing at her.
"Captain Rois et Reines?" she said as she looked at all the dignitaries of La Motte seated around the table. There was the Captain, Madame La Mayor, Father Sebastian, Anne Rois et Reines and, of course, Duke Vincent himself. None of them look terribly pleased to be interrupted and this made her a little nervous, however she stuck to her orders.
Jean-Marie looked surprised to see her, "Patrolman Byn'hali?"
She nodded and stepped further into the room, "Yes, Sir. I'm terribly sorry to be interrupting, but it was urgent that I see you at once."
The Duke looked her over, "Well then, report..."
She took a deep breath and stood to the end of the table, suddenly feeling a little nervous at all the people staring at her, "The Slavers, Sir...they're coming. They're to attack Phenix as their first target in two days time. I've been told they've been scouting our defenses and they were waiting until we were expecting peace."
The Duke gave her a somewhat irritated look. Actually, he wasn't angry, his face looked that way on its own. "If I remember correctly, your unit was dispatched on a long mission to the
east. How did you come by this information?"
She swallowed, having had the past day to mentally prepar herself for the explanation, "I have a reliable resource. We met her on our way back. My patrol is 2 and a half days behind me and sent me ahead with the warning."
The Duke scowled, "Elaborate on your source, Patrolman. If we have any neighbors, let alone allies, to the east, I am not aware of them."
"She's a grey ghost known to a little girl, Serena, by the name of Aunti Greysilks.. at least that what she calls her..." Selena explained, "we met Serena on our way to Tamis. I met Auntie Greysilks on our way back. She told me that we were to divert our caravan to the south and take that route home as there was great danger in our path. It was then she told me what it was... the slavers...
"Liutenant Riche sent me ahead to warn Bascone and Phenix while they kept our caravan safe..."
The Duke frowned, "A ghost introduced to you by an orphan girl warned you...?
She nodded quickly, "I know it sounds crazy, sir, but I have no reason not to trust this entity. We have seen many phenomenons like this in our travels and none of their warnings have been wrong. This ghost has been protecting the girl most of her life... I doubt she would lie to us."
"Ghost aside, Patrolman, have you seen any evidence of slaver activity on your return trip?" The Duke asked.
Selena frowned, suddenly feeling very silly as she responded, "No Sir..."
To her relief, however, The Duke turned to Jean-Marie, "Have your patrols turned up anything unusual lately?"
He shook his head, "Occasional ghost sightings, a few feral animals... but, nothing of real note..."
Selena watched them, getting a horrible feeling of dread that they wouldn't believe her.
Father Sebastian looked at Selena for a long moment, "It wouldn't hurt anything to send out scouts, would it? The rescuee caravan from Vergogne arrived just a few days ago, if the slavers were trying to catch us by surprise this would be the perfect time..."
Selena smiled a little and nodded to the Duke and Jean-marie, "I could go with them..."
The Duke nodded to Father Sebastien, "I concede your point, Father. Send out scouts and call in the Militia for an extra practice session tonight...."
Selena took a deep breath and let it out in relief. Somehow she didn't feel she was needed anymore and felt her job here was done, "I have to go and warn Phenix, Sir. I'm sure Sgt. Etalon will want to hear about this."
"Yes, Your Grace," said Jean-Marie, ignoring Selena for the moment. He rapped loudly on the table and the guard from outside peeked in, "Gaston, pass the word for Second and Fourth Patrols. Also tell Renardier to call up the Militia."
The guard nodded and left. Jean-Marie then took a piece of paper and dashed off a quick message on it before looking up at Selena, handing it out to her, "Take this to Corporal Montrichard of the Fifth."
Selena nodded and stepped forward, taking the paper. Suddenly it dawns on her the name and she blinked, "Corporal Montrichard? Where is Sgt. Etalon?"
Jean-Marie looked up at her. His expression read a hint of "Why are you still here?", yet he responded with, "Sergeant Etalon has been reassigned...."
Selena stepped back towards the door and accepted his answer with a polite, "Yes Sir". She knew from the look on his face that she probably shouldn't have asked, but it just came out of her so quickly she didn't think.
The Captain held up a hand, that caused Selena to pause, "Once you have delivered the message, stay in Phenix. I'll send another unit to reinforce the town, but I do not want you haring off to join the scouts. Is that clear?"
Her first instinct was to ask why, but knew better of it as her heart sank to her shoes. She wanted very much to be part of the scouting team. She was after all patrol-less until her unit came back and would be ideal to help out. She knew she and Jo'har would make a difference if they ran into trouble.
Instead she just frowned and nodded, "Yes, Sir."
As she left, the Council then started discussing the best way to determine if the threat was real, and how best to defend La Motte if it was. Selena found Jo'har outside, readily waiting for her. Her ears pricked ahead curiously as Selena mounted her and turned her in the direction of Phenix, keeping her to a trot until they hit the edge of the town. Once into the outskirts of town and the feilds, Selena opened up and let Jo'har go again.
As she quickly approached Headquarters, the familiarity of home swept over Selena. She was thankful for having the chance to get back sooner and saw Albrecht watch her as she approached. He looked down upon Jo'har as she slowed to a canter and halted inside the courtyard. Selena quickly off Jo'har, who gratefully left for her stall once she had retrieved the note for Montrichard.
"What brings you back so soon?" Albrecht called down from his perch. Selena looked up at him.
"There is a possibility that we are going to be attacked by the Slavers. I was sent home to relay the message," she told him before heading into the house.
Albrecht's face dropped at the news and Selena saw him turn a shade of grey before entering the house. Most of the Lancers were in the kitchen eating lunch when Selena walked in. They all looked up as she entered.
"Selena?" said Gabrielle, "You're not due back for a few days yet."
Selena nodded solemnly and appoached Camille, handing her the message from The Duke. She quickly read it over and frowned.
"Attack?" she said outloud, "I wonder what kind of an attack...."
"The slavers," Selena answered. Everyone looked at her. The looks on their faces read one of both disbelief and horror.
"What? Are you sure...?" Asked Gabrielle and Selena nodded, telling them everything that Auntie Greysilks had told her.
---
"Define interesting."
"Oh God, oh God, we're all gonna die?"
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29/Sep/05, 10:41 pm
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The Battle of Phenix
Captain Jean-Marie was out in the practice yard when he heard the bell, its light tone immediately identifying it as Phenix’s. Immediately he stopped and listened to the pattern. The Wind Chasers and the Snow Foxes had gone out on their scouting mission three hours ago, and he was beginning to feel the strain of not knowing. True, Patrolman Byn’Hali’s story could easily be a mistake or a trick, but something in his gut told him that slavers making peace to lull La Motte into vulnerability made a lot more sense than slavers making peace to legitimately make peace…
The message of the bell was clear. The enemy had been spotted. Details would come soon when a rider arrived, but for now he knew all he needed to. Sheathing his weapons, he raised his voice and called for his adjutant. “Jules!”
The guard immediately came running. “Yes, sir?”
“The slavers have been spotted. Get over to the church and ring the Militia Call. On your way, go by the stables and tell Robelac to get as many horses saddled and ready as he can. We need to deploy our forces quickly, before the slavers can attack Phenix.” Mentally he cursed the decision to put the village and its precious fields on the north side of Bascone, but to be fair there hadn’t been any other good sites.
Jules made haste, and soon the church bells were ringing. The Captain closed his eyes and made a silent prayer to Theus. His people had been preparing for months, but they were going to need every bit of help they could get…
***
The slaver army waited just inside the edge of the forest. All along the battle line, fur-cloaked Hunters bullied and shoved their troops into line. The foot soldiers were slaves each and every one of them, pulled from the pens for toughness and tenacity and given crude spears and clubs. The first rank carried sturdy axes, and as they formed up each of them was given a rag-stopped bottle. “When we give the order, each of you takes a swig of that and passes it back to the man behind you,” a Hunter shouted. “And remember, any of you that brings me three enemy weapons after the battle gets made an Overseer!” That would probably have the slaves fighting each other as much as the enemy, but the Hunter didn’t particularly care. Slave scum were easy to replace, and they had more than a few aces up their sleeves…
***
Jean-Marie’s horse whinnied nervously as he spurred it forward. Renardier’s Militia blocks were moving into position with a reasonable amount of precision, but the battle line seemed disturbingly small compared to the mobs of slavers standing in the edge of the woods. Still, the turnout at the emergency Militia drill had been high, a lot of the newcomers had been rescuees from Vergogne. It made sense, after their experiences at the hands of the Hunters they’d be all too ready to fight against them. Still, they were the most green of them all and therefore they were kept to the back ranks.
Between the blocks of pikes and bowmen, the Patrol had formed up. The First Patrol had been ordered to stay in Bascone to serve as emergency relief, and the Third and Eighth were protecting Reines, but all five of the remaining units were here. Sergeant Etalon had insisted on returning to the Fifth Patrol for the battle, and the Lady Lancers and the Stone Dogs looked almost ready to charge the enemy on their own.
A rocket shot into the sky from behind the slaver lines, and as Jean-Marie watched in puzzlement as it exploded with a deafening BANG. A signal, obviously, but for what? His answer came as Patrolman Byn’Hali behind him shouted out a warning, one of the ‘rescuees’ in the rear ranks stepped out of formation and swung his pike at Jean-Marie. The Captain tried to duck, but the thick shaft thumped him hard on the shoulder, knocking him off his horse. Jean-Marie twisted as he fell, trying to soften his impact but there was no time. His head struck the firm turf and his vision went black…
***
The drums began to pound as the Hunters drove their army forward with whips, kicks, and shouted obscenities. The front bank, however, began to keen weirdly as the strange beer in their stomachs began to take effect. Hearts began to beat faster and reality seemed to melt like wax as the potent mix of cheap beer and strange mushrooms turned fear-struck slaves into berserker lunatics. Howling like the madmen they were fast becoming and swinging their axes like arms on a windmill, they charged toward the opposing army. The mushroom beer would kill them before long, but not before they did their best to slay everything they could reach…
Sergeant Gaston Renardier looked around him in growing fear. Patrolman Byn’Hali and her horse were standing over the fallen body of Captain Rois et Reines, holding off the ‘rescuees’ as they tried to finish off the leader. Elsewhere, Militia units suddenly found themselves fighting their own rear ranks, and as the screaming berserker slaves charged the panic grew. “Hold steady!” Renardier shouted, crushingly aware that he was suddenly the senior officer on the field. “Stand firm, men, we can turn them back!” But even he could see that the Militia was starting to break…
***
Images from a battle:
* “CHARGE!” screams Mariel Etalon, and without a thought the entire Fifth Patrol falls in behind her. Spears lowered, they charge toward the rushing line of berserkers and punch through it easily. Their momentum carries them forward, until the Hunters raise their bows and send a volley of arrows hissing toward them…
* A pikeman screams in pain as an axe bites deep into his chest. Unable to wrench his weapon free, the half-naked madman lets go of it and springs on the next man in front of him, trying to bite his throat out…
* Lt. de Treville ducks a “rescuee’s” axe and slashes with his sword. His unit is surrounding the Headquarters now, fighting to protect Duke Vincent and the rest of the Council from the surprise attack… His eyes open wide in shock as a bullet catches him full in the chest…
* A militiaman howls in rage as his pike impales a charging Hunter. The shaft breaks, but he whirls his chunk of wood like a club as the slaves charge him. Several stumble back, skulls cracked, and barely breaking rhythm the soldier snatches up an axe from the ground and starts swinging it too.
* “Fall back!” yells Sergeant Renardier as the Militia units break one by one. “All units, FALL BACK!” The Patrols try to pull together for a fighting retreat, but as the slave army pressed on them it’s all they can do to hold until the Militia have left the field. Then those who can, run.
---
"Define interesting."
"Oh God, oh God, we're all gonna die?"
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1/Oct/05, 12:38 am
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RonSWEF
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The Butcher's Bill
To His Grace Duke Vincent Gaulle dul Motte, from Doctor Bernard Derreaux...
Your Grace, this is as complete a listing of the casualties as I can give you right now. I have been told that we inflicted equal if not greater casualties upon the enemy, but regardless of that and my lack of military experience I can say that this is a battle result that must not be repeated, for all of our sakes. I will not advise you further, as I am well aware of what I am not.
(exerpts and simplifications of the casualty lists follow)
First Patrol:
Wounded: 2
Lt. Guillaume de Treville - Dead
Patrolman Madeline Bright - Wounded
Second Patrol:
Slain: 2
Third Patrol:
Wounded: 2
Corporal Luc Loupe - Wounded
Fouth Patrol:
Slain: 2
Wounded: 4
Corporal Gerac - Dead
Fifth Patrol:
Sergeant Mariel Etalon - Missing in Action
Corporal Camille Montrichard - Wounded
Patrolman Genevieve Soul - Wounded
Patrolman Gabriella Roux - Missing in Action
Patrolman Danielle Gaston - Dead
Sixth Patrol:
Wounded: 2
Missing in Action: 2
Sergeant Tristan San Juste: Wounded
Seventh Patrol:
Wounded: 4
Eighth Patrol:
Slain: 2
Bascone Militia, First Company
Slain: 23
Wounded: 12
Missing in Action: 7
Bascone Militia, Second Company
Slain: 35
Wounded: 27
Missing in Action: 19
Bascone Militia, Third Company
Slain 16
Wounded: 13
Missing in Action: 34
Other:
Captain Jean-Marie Rois et Reines - Wounded
Sergeant Gaston Renardier - Wounded
Corporal Henri LeBlanc - Slain
Jeanne Gaulle dul Motte - Missing
---
"Define interesting."
"Oh God, oh God, we're all gonna die?"
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7/Oct/05, 11:58 pm
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A Report and Some Gossip
“To sum up, Your Grace, we seem to have lost an invading army only to gain a dangerous and enigmatic new presence on our northern border. Frankly, I’d put these “Laughing Ones” in the same category as the Blood Tasters, but so far they haven’t attacked anyone but slavers. This may be due to the fact that we made sure to stay well away from them, but we have no way of knowing yet. It’s not my decision, but I would recommend we not resettle Phenix just yet. Send out day crews to work the fields, yes, but I wouldn’t put civilians out there until we’re more certain of their safety.”
Duke Vincent nodded as Lt. Riche finished his report. “I agree. My congratulations on the return of so many of the prisoners, Lieutenant. The Tenth Patrol has performed well beyond what Captain Rois et Reines’ notes lead me to believe about them…”
Michel hesitated. “I mean no disrespect to the Captain, Your Grace, but those notes were made during a very emotional and confused period of time. The Tenth Patrol is a unit of competent men and women, who are and will remain an asset to La Motte. I have been honored to serve with them these past three weeks, Your Grace.”
The Duke raised an eyebrow. “You make it sound as if you believe your posting with them to be temporary.”
“My apologies, Your Grace, but I was given charge of the Tenth Patrol with exactly that understanding. The Captain wished me to take charge of the unit and do what I could to build unit cohesiveness and professionalism until they were ready to be given to another leader. In the long run, I am better suited to being a town watchman and magistrate.”
“And who would you recommend I give this unit to? The Lanterne has lost two members in battle, and several others are wounded. I may have to combine and consolidate some units to bring them back to full combat strength, which leaves me needing every officer I can lay hands on. Unfortunately, Rois et Reines’ cracked skull leaves me with only his notes to tell me who is most deserving.”
Michel clasped his hands behind his back. “I was hoping that Patrolman du Vraise would be ready to resume his mantle of leadership. According to what I have heard from a few acquaintances in the First Patrol, he has shown himself to be competent in the field and exemplary in battle.” He didn’t feel it was quite appropriate to mention that du Vraise’s battle exhibition had come in protecting the Duke’s own life.
The Duke sighed and held up a sheet of paper. “I have a request here from him to return to the Tenth as a Patrolman if not as a Lanterne, but unfortunately I no longer have his commanding officer to testify on his fitness. Rois et Reines’ notes on him were not in the slightest complimentary.”
“Your Grace, again I feel that the Captain’s notes should be taken with a grain of salt. The incident preceding his reassignment was regrettable, yes, but after spending three weeks with the unit he formed, I believe that most of the incident was a combination of several mishaps coming together at once. Give him a chance, Your Grace…”
Duke Vincent looked up from his desk with a sigh. “I will consider it. Now, your report neglected to mention something else that was in the Captain’s notes. A suspended Patrolman named Nicolas de Molyneux, whom you supposedly took with you to Tamis. What can you tell me about him?”
Michel winced. This was the part he had hoped to avoid… “Your Grace, it is my recommendation that de Molyneux’s suspension be made permanent.”
“Oh? Why?”
“I believe the nautical term is ‘loose cannon’, sir. He did accompany us on the trip to Tamis, but he ignored my orders, put himself and innocents in danger for personal goals, and took it upon himself to abandon the unit entirely on the trip back. I do not believe he is emotionally stable enough to be an asset to the Patrol. Also, I do not have any proof but given the time and place of his return, I suspect he may have something to do with the ‘Laughing Ones’ that attacked the slavers last night. It seems too convenient for coincidence, if you follow me, sir…”
“I see… I think I will leave him on suspension for now, and let the Captain decide his eventual fate. According to his wife, he should be able to resume his duties in a week or so, and I don’t wish to manage anything for him that I don’t have to… Is there anything else you wish to discuss, Lieutenant?”
Michel thought for a moment. “No, sir, except to suggest that we send scouts to follow or harass the retreating slavers. I’m no general, sir, but it seems to me that these slavers have committed themselves to destroying us or being destroyed, we’ll need to know just how strong they are as quickly as possible…”
Duke Vincent nodded. “A sensible suggestion, one that Sergeant Etalon made almost as soon as she woke up this morning. The Second and Third Patrols have already been dispatched to do just that.”
“The Third? Won’t that leave Reines exposed?”
“Not particularly. The Tenth will remain in Reines until further notice, which should be sufficient. I want you to go to the storehouses and procure whatever you need to look after those people you brought back from Tamis. If any of them know how to farm, put them to work tending the fields out there. I’ll send a runner if there are any further orders…”
Michel recognized that as the dismissal it was, and made it to the doorway before the Duke’s voice called him back. “Lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir?”
The scowling Duke seemed to soften for a moment. “Thank you for bringing my daughter home safely.”
Michel nodded and smiled. “Our duty, Your Grace, and our pleasure…”
***
“You hear they found that girl from Madame Marie’s?” Albrecht looked up. He had been ignoring the gossip of the laborers working on the defensive line under his supervision, but the change of subject caught his ears.
“You mean the one who rides for the Patrol? I heard she’d gone missing in the battle…”
“Oui, that’s the one. Word is that someone found her in a closet in Phenix, out of her skull completely. Drooling and rocking and screaming if a man gets too close.”
“Really? What you think happened to do that?”
“I dunno… I hear the slavers all took turns with her or something…”
Albrecht gritted his teeth a little, but his blood didn’t boil until the next words reached his ears. “I wonder what the fuss is, it’s not like she wasn’t doing that five times a night already…”
“Hey, you two!” Albrecht was surprised at the steadiness of his own voice. “You’ll hold your tongues about Patrolman Roux if you know what’s good for you…”
The laborers looked back at him in surprise. They were beefy, balding middle-aged men, who may have been fat once upon a time but whom hard work and short rations had trimmed down into surly workhorses. “What you fussing about, boy? Sorry you didn’t get your turn?””
His comrade guffawed. “I know I’m sorry… The Madame hires only the best, and she’s a pretty sweet bit.”
Seeing the look on Albrecht’s face, the first one decided to taunt the young Eisen just a little more. “I’ll betcha I know why she’s all fussed up… She’s mad because the slavers forgot to pay her…”
The next sound the burly workman made was a crunching sound, when Albrecht punched him in the face.
---
"Define interesting."
"Oh God, oh God, we're all gonna die?"
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20/Oct/05, 11:49 pm
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Re: Plot Logs
The light shining in through the windows was bright and warm, and as a consequence the Council meeting was a tad on the lethargic side. At least it had been up to that point…
“Anything to report, Jean-Marie?” the Duke asked curtly. The younger man had been quiet and distracted for the entire meeting, which he found troubling.
Captain Rois et Reines sighed and finally leaned forward. “One item of business. Corporal Loupe resigned from La Lanterne and the Patrol last night.”
The reaction around the council table was mixed, with an equal distribution between disbelief and confusion. Finally Mayor Boumart spoke up. “What brought this on, Jean-Marie? Luc puts up a good front, but he’s not nearly as rash as he’d like people to believe.”
Jean-Marie shook his head. “It stems from a personal conflict. I’d rather not go into it, but I believe I may have overstepped myself in a certain area.”
Madame La Mayor eyed him skeptically, but thankfully said nothing. The Duke frowned. “Whatever your personal conflict is, Captain, I suggest you resolve it and quickly. We need every Lantern and Patrolman we can get, and while Loupe does have an excessively flamboyant streak he’s still a good and reliable man. I hope he can be convinced to resume his post.”
Jean-Marie shook his head slightly. “I will try, Your Grace. In the meantime, the Wind Chasers are still keeping an eye on Vergogne for us. Their latest report states that the slavers have managed to recapture the parts of the city that the slave revolt forced them out of, but they seem too busy getting reorganized to try attacking us again. Corporal du Grace reports that they have also seen the slavers trying to set up farms around the city.”
“It’s almost midsummer, they won’t get much of a crop,” Father Sebastien commented. “Whether they were really starving before, there will be a great deal of suffering come winter.”
“The scum won’t suffer. They never do, it’ll be the poor folk in the chains who will be starving this winter.” Madame La Mayor snorted. “We need to do something for them, before it’s too late.”
The Duke rubbed his temples. “Irene, we have been over this every meeting since we first received news of the revolt.”
“Yes, Vincent, and I am still not convinced. Yes, our armed men and women are not great in number. But how many more of those poor people in Vergogne will die before we have trained enough to play it safe? We must take the risk, gentlemen.” The older woman thumped her small fist on the table as if threatening to pick up a sword and go by herself.
The argument would have begun yet again, had it not been for the soft knock at the door. “Yes?” The Duke snapped tersely.
The manor’s housekeeper opened the door and leaned in slightly. “There’s a gypsy fellow out here, Your Grace, he says he wishes to address the Council.”
The Duke looked blankly at Jean-Marie who shrugged. “My apologies, Your Grace, they slipped my mind completely. The Tenth came across them early yesterday and invited them to come visit Phenix.”
Duke Vincent nodded to the housekeeper. “Show the gentleman in, Claudine.”
A few moments later, a tall man in brightly-colored clothing entered the room. He approached the table and gave the assembled men and women a deep and formal bow. “Lovely ladies and kind sirs of the Council of La Motte, I bring you greetings from the Namara gypsy clan. You may call me Radin, I speak for my caravan.”
The Duke looked up over appraisingly. “And what can we do for your people, Radin?”
“Well, primarily we are here to see what we can do for you. We have been travelling Montaigne for some months now, seeing what there is to see. We offer you the news of our travels and what delight our entertainments can offer. In return, we ask only your hospitality for a few days, and the answer to a question.”
“And your question?” Father Sebastien asked.
Radin’s face turned serious for a moment. “What are the dangers you and your people face here?”
Madame Irene scowled. “The most direct one is those blasted slavers to the north. They’ve attacked us once already this summer and they will do it again. It’s not in their animal nature to ignore us, and they cannot afford to either. We have too much food and too many people.”
Jean-Marie sighed. “We’ve also been receiving reports from our patrols about strange sorcerous beasts out in the wilderness, beasts that draw the blood from their victims and use it to somehow reproduce. Sometimes there are men leading them, other times there are not. Your caravan should be very wary of them.”
Radin nodded. “I see. What do you intend to do about the slavers?”
Jean-Marie spoke up quickly, to forestall Madame Irene. “I’m afraid there is not much we can do at the moment. Many of our people were wounded in the last attack, and are still recovering. As it is, our actual fighting men and women number less than a hundred, supplemented by citizens who train with spear and axe. With the threat from the blood beasts, we cannot afford to send an attack against Vergogne, even with the weakened state they are in at the moment. Madame Irene disagrees,” he said quickly to preclude the outburst he knew was coming. “But the rest of the Council is not convinced that we can protect our people and our farmlands sufficiently without our Patrols.”
The gypsy nodded slowly. “Yes, you do seem to be in a difficult position. Very well, then, my comrades and I wish to offer your town our services.”
Duke Vincent arched an eyebrow. “The assistance of a gypsy caravan?”
Radin grinned and reached into his sash. “Not exactly…” He dropped a polished silver medallion on the table. “I will leave you good people to deliberate, I will be waiting outside.” He turned and walked out of the room, and Jean-Marie quickly grabbed the medallion to show it to the others. It bore the emblem of a cross, entwined by four blossoming roses…
---
"Define interesting."
"Oh God, oh God, we're all gonna die?"
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28/Jan/06, 2:43 pm
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