Arcaea/Dining Hall Late 08-09/King Jenred Attacked by Evil Goat!
It probably was because they were drunk, but it might have been from boredom.
Crispen and the men had been carousing all night, and had reached that state of bliss where any action above pure instinct came with difficulty. Their riding, lancing and trouble-making abilities were unaffected, but thinking, reasoning and acting with good judgment were definitely off the menu. Of course, there was some question of whether the latter had ever been on the menu, but we will leave that for another time.
They had just done battle with a small group of goats, withdrawing without a clear winner and their pride in tatters, when they spotted it. Rising up through the gloom, the strange monolith towered over the men and inspired a sense of awe that hushed the raucous revelers.
"It's a siege tower!" claimed one, arching his neck to see the top.
"It's an Oliphant!" cried another, who claimed to have traveled to another island in his youth.
"It's a catapult," grinned Crispen gleefully, without the faintest sign of reason or good judgment written on his face.
-
Crispen Namtrah (Knight of Remton)
"Actually, it's a trebuchant," explained Price, who was helping to load the counterweights. "Ya aims it toward them Cathayans, puts the weights on this-ways, and..."
Crispen wasn't listening. He had bigger problems at had - namely, what to fire.
"Get out of here, (hic)," he said to the billy goat that had reappeared and was nuzzling up against his leg.
He couldn't very well load it with rocks. He wasn't going to catch the blame for starting a war. Ditto barrels of flaming pitch. Burn the camp down. No good at all.
"Will you shove off, (hic)," he shouted once more at the goat, who was trying to head butt his backside.
No, he needed something soft, but messy. Something that would splatter well. Preferably smelly.
"Bleat," said the goat.
Suddenly, Crispen smiled and reached out as if to scratch its head between the horns.
-
Crispen Namtrah (Knight of Remton)
"That should do the trick, wot?" said Captain Andred with satisfaction. "Got it's legs tied, wot? Should land with a splat, wot?"
Crispen stared at his captain.
"Why do you keep saying "wot?", (hic)?" he asked coldly. "Demmed annoying, (hic). Knock it off, (hic)."
He approached the release rope, sword in hand.
"I say, (hic)," he said, raising his sword above his head, "isn't that Lord Tenal just arriving, (hic)? Long history with his family, (hic). Father served under his brother or cousin or mother or someone, I think, (hic)."
And with that, he cut the rope.
-
Crispen Namtrah (Knight of Remton)
To this day, people who witnessed the aftermath are a amazed at how much damage a ricocheted goat can do.
"And the divot, too!" Tyrn, the local blacksmith would tell people for years. "I mean, who would have thought a goat could make such a big hole in the ground? I mean, the ground being hard, and the goat being soft, you would think..."
For of course the trebuchant was over-weighted. When Crispen cut the rope, the long arm swung majestically into the air. And kept swinging. All the way around.
The goat had time to let out one final, piteous bleat before being slammed into the earth at a spot about three feet in front of the basket. The force was so great that, instead of splattering, it actually bounced off the ground and flew off in the direction of the camp.
You may fault Lord Tenal for many things, but a lack of horsemanship is not among his defects. It takes a steady hand, indeed, to keep one's mount under one when it has just been broadsided by a ricocheting goat. The horse bolted in the direction of the encampment; the goat carried forward, scattering the green infantry troops that were marching behind him and thought they were now under attack.
A gentle rain began to fall.
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Crispen Namtrah (Knight of Remton)
"LOOK OUT!" screamed the Royal Guardsman.
The men were some of the best, but really there is very little that can be done under such circumstances. They were lucky to avoid any direct strikes before the object bounced into the tent behind them.
"Attack!" screamed one. "His Majesty has been attacked!"
The warning had been enough. King Jenred, who had been seated at his desk writing a letter, dove across the room to cover Lady Endara with his body.
The goat slammed into the desk, turning it into so much kindling, before tearing through the back of the tent and out into the darkness beyond.
"There! A rider!" shouted a Guardsman who had had the wherewithal to scan the camp rather than stare at the damaged tent. He pointed to a dark figure galloping madly away from the encampment.
"Regicide! Get the Regicide!"
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Crispen Namtrah (Knight of Remton)
Desperately trying to keep his mount under control, Tenal charged through the camp.
"Bloody hells, what in the name of sheep's guts was that!", he yelled over the roar of the confusion his horse was making.
Something had come flying out of the night air, to slam bodily into his steed. The object somehow rebounded further into the camp, but Tenal could not identify it, occupied as he was with the reins. Pulling hard and digging in his spurs was only having a minimal effect. There wasn't much to do now but ride it out. So, instead of stopping his horse, he let it run. Tenal concentrated instead on re-directing the frenzied movements to minimalize the damage to the camp road.
Sir Tenal Quasath Count of Orbeh
After making sure Edara hadn't been hurt in the fall, Jenred leapt to his feet, with Edara not far behind.
"UDO! I want whoever did this at my feet within the hour! Captain Lambert, get your men out on search parties, whatever through that can't have moved far! MOVE!"
Jenred's eyes were blazing in full fury now, and his long knives slipped into his hands as he ran off after Captain Udo's detachment. That rider must have had something to do with it...No other reason to be galloping along at such a pace...
The men spread out to make sure the rider couldn't make it back this way, and at their calls some of Aerywyn's cavalry, stationed near the center of the camp with Jenred and the rest of the Council members, blew their battlehorns and rode out after the lone rider, looking like the vengeance of the ancient Fey People themselves...
Sir Jenred Bedwyr King of Arcaea
Father Bactra was a man of peace. For thirty years he had served as a lay priest in The Order of the Elders. He had seen all sorts of outrages, and had learned to keep his calm during the worst of them.
"...let us give thanks for..."
WHAM!!!
The goat flew into the open-ended temple and smashed against the alter, scattering the Holy Vestments.
Father Bactra stared at the bloody carcass, and the destroyed alter. His teeth clenched. His face turned red. Steam seemed to rise from him.
"GET THE INVADERS OF OUR LAND AND DESECRATERS OF OUR HOLY PLACES!!" he roared.
Fifty angry peasants stormed out onto the street.
-
Crispen Namtrah (Knight of Remton)
Meanwhile, back at the catapult...
Crispen and his men had watched the bouncing goat with growing unease.
"Good shot!" shouted one of the men, when it had slammed into Tenal's horse. He was quickly hushed.
Eleven men winced and ducked as it plowed into the King's tent.
Eleven men paled visibly when shouts of "Regicide!" rose up from the camp.
Eleven men were already on their horses galloping pell mell for the border when the peasants ran out of the temple.
"Regicide!" shouted Crispen, "find the Regicide, (hic)!"
"Regicide!" shouted his men eagerly, desperately hoping to be gone before anyone noticed they were ever there in the first place.
-
Crispen Namtrah (Knight of Remton)
“Jenred…wait! Wait! What just happened? Did someone try to kill you? What was that?”
Edara hurrieed to catch up to Jenred, her shorter legs hampering her goal. Everyone was scrambling, rushing into the night in different directions. From just beyond the edge of the camp, a mob of peasants boiled out of a temple and came rushing towards them.
“Jenred!!” she screamed it, wanting to be certain he saw this new threat. Of all the times to be without her scythe! Why had she chosen just this day to give it off to LionHeart for repair? She could have mown down a peasant or ten with that in her hands, as it was, she dodged back out of their direct path. Was this part of an assassination attempt? Some sort of sneaky Ethialan plot?
Soldiers were beginning to take note of the onrushing mass and were changing direction to meet it. This was going to be messy.
Lady Edara Kindon Duchess of Nocaneb
Jenred turned at Edara's call, and snarled. Of all the times...
He ran back, putting his knives away, and pulled his pendant out to let it hang in front of his chest. As his feet settled next to Edara, he drew his sword, and pointed it at the leader, who looked to be a lay priest.
"You. You may not recognize my face, but I'm quite sure you recognize the Hawk emblems we wear."
His eyes burned into those of the priest.
"Drop your weapons and lie on the ground, and you will be sent to the work camps. Continue your attack...And I will make every last one of you wish your mothers had smothered you in your cradles."
The King's voice dropped into a guttural, bone-deep depth that reminded the Priest what this particular King was famous for, and he fell flat on his face, cowering and quivering with his followers as some of the grim-faced units from surrounding camps became visible from around a hill.
Sir Jenred Bedwyr King of Arcaea
The priest was weeping in the dirt, bemoaning the “desecration of the temple”.
‘We didn’t desecrate any temples? Did someone bother a temple?” Edara’s voice had an edge to it, “I didn’t order any temples looted…we don’t do that.”
She wheeled and marchd to the Elder’s Temple from whence the mob had rushed. It was little more than a shack, roofed, but open-sided. The ruined altar and the offending mass that had caused it was plainly visible on the ground. Edara poked at it with her foot. It was bloody and broken and misshapen…but the head was unmistakeable.
It was a goat.
She started to call for Jenred, but realized that he had followed her to the Temple.
“It’s a goat.”
Lady Edara Kindon Duchess of Nocaneb
The priest was weeping in the dirt, bemoaning the “desecration of the temple”.
‘We didn’t desecrate any temples? Did someone bother a temple?” Edara’s voice had an edge to it, “I didn’t order any temples looted…we don’t do that.”
She wheeled and marchd to the Elder’s Temple from whence the mob had rushed. It was little more than a shack, roofed, but open-sided. The ruined altar and the offending mass that had caused it was plainly visible on the ground. Edara poked at it with her foot. It was bloody and broken and misshapen…but the head was unmistakeable.
It was a goat.
She started to call for Jenred, but realized that he had followed her to the Temple.
“It’s a goat.”
Lady Edara Kindon Duchess of Nocaneb
Jenred glared balefully at the offending animal for a long moment before a shout from one of Edara's men made him turn.
"Your Majesties! We've found...well...You have to see this for yourselves..."
Jenred and Edara followed, curious...And took in the sight. Jenred drew a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"This...looks more like someone got completely wasted..."
Sir Jenred Bedwyr King of Arcaea
Briefly watching his master ride off hard out of camp, Captain Gisbert forced himself to pay attention to his men.
"Right, that was a bloody surprise, but take this as a lesson. Anything can happen. Anywhere. Anytime. Always be on your guard! Anyone see what bloody hit Lord Quasath? No? Alright. We don't wait for him to return, we continue our march to our site. Not much further lads."
In the distance, a large crowd was bursting forth from a temple, their roars of fury echoing into the night.
"Scratch that, lads. Trouble in the rear. Mob mentality does us no good. About FACE! March AHEAD!"
The Pumas double-timed it towards the mob and a collapsed tent, from which frantic guards searched every nearby face suspiciously.
Captain Gisbert, with sharp eyes and mind due a man of his rank, noticed the Hawk emblem and the furious looking man as he approached. Calling a sharp, "HALT!" to his men, Gisbert knelt for his King.
"King Jenred, Captain Gisbert at your service. You seem to have admiringly controlled the situation. May I and the Pumas be of service?"
Sir Tenal Quasath Count of Orbeh
Jenred examined the man, scanning for insignia...Ah, yes...Tenal's men...
"Yes, thank you captain. Someone has been flinging...goats...around with this and I want them found and brought to me. We have other units searching the area, but I want you to take your men to town and find out who might have had a trebuchet, and everything else you can find out about it."
Jenred shook his head.
"In the meantime..."
A Messenger appeared with a rush of air and deposited a letter into Jenred's hands before disappearing again.
"Damn them...Useful...But not what I needed to see right now...Unsettling at the best of times...And this is...Papania's seal..."
Jenred sighed.
"Love, I have to leave this to you, if Lysaer is talking again, I need to make the most of it..."
Sir Jenred Bedwyr King of Arcaea
Given the mission and then dismissed as the King's attention was needed elsewhere, Captain Gisbert bowed his head from his kneeling position. "At once, Your Grace," he replied and kept his head bowed as he rose. Turning to his men, he barked, "Triple-time now! March to camp and unload supplies. We move in 5 minutes." Sending the men into a run, Captain Gisbert kept time.
He stuck to his old sergeants habits. They were hard to break.
Sir Tenal Quasath Count of Orbeh
"Well...now..," Goffrey said, blushing mildly as he absentmindedly scratched the back of his head, "I don't wanna... get ahead of myself..."
He chuckled a small slightly embarrassed laugh, remembering the whole debacle Jenred had coaxed/tricked him into vividly.
"...Thank you, Harmony... I think... I really needed to hear that from someone," he said, smiling a warm hopeful smile, as he locked eyes with her.
Abruptly he rose from his log and stretched out alittle, "Well," he said, in a weary yet still cheerful sort of way, "Its getting late, and I've said what I've come to stay, I think its about time I hit that old dusty trail."
He turned away from the glowing embers of the fire, preparing to leave, before he stopped on the edge of the light and turned back to Harmony.
"Harmony... if you ever need anything... anything at all... I'm just letter away... remember that..."
Goffrey Massey Baron of Sasat
Edara focused her attention fully on Jenred for long enough to kiss him goodbye thoroughly before returning to gawking at the trebuchet. She had never seen one in person before, only pictures. It was…fantastic! She examined the mechanisms carefully, lightly touching the various parts as she walked around the machine.
“I want to see it work! Can we shoot something? Not a goat…a rock or a bag of sand or something?”
The men looked uncomfortable, “That’s what got the last bunch in trouble, Majesty,” a lean-faced man spoke up.
Edara pouted a little, “Well…yes…but can’t you…aim it…so that it doesn’t hit any tents or temples or anything? Can’t we shoot at say…that hillside over there?
Shrugging, the men set about manoevering the machine, adjusting the mechanism, and loading it with a bag of sand. Not being drunk, they were able to get it balanced and aimed correctly. The smack when the bag impacted with the rocky hillside was most satisfactory, and Edara applauded with delight.
She looked around: the sky was starting to lighten.
“Well, I can certainly see the appeal of launching something with this, not sure why they had to use a goat, though. That was mean…and a waste of good meat. I suppose I should see if anyone’s found the culprits. You lot secure the machine and don’t let anyone else go firing things with it until we’ve sorted this out. I’m going to see where Lambert’s hared off to.”
Lady Edara Kindon Duchess of Nocaneb
The rime Minister nearly jumped out of his tent with such enthusiasm after recieving word that he nearly tripped and fellin the mud.
"Congratulations all! Arempos has been taken away from Ethelia and it's new government is about to be brought up!"
The messenger that handed the note grunts in an attempt to get the PM's attention.
"Not now," in a hushed tone. "We can use this Glorious show of strength and move it on towards the next target towards-" "quit it.." "Complete victory in the defense of Crown Ethelia's Lands and that of Ohnar... West..."
The angered man spins quickly around "What is it! cant you see that im trying to give out a speech! that this is one of the more important... What are you pointing at!! ...oh, wow. I did not see that there."
Enter goat.
Sir Fallin McBlathery Prime Minister of Ohnar West
Crispen read through his correspondence and stopped dead in his tracks.
"Wot?" he thought. "King Jenred is alive, wot?"
Crispen Namtrah (Knight of Remton)
