Dubhaine Family/Ciarghuala/Roleplays/1018/February

5th February

Day -- Poryatu

Donald Augustus Allan

Men hurried to their positions, the clank of armour and harsh cry of voices drowning out all other noise. Overhead the golden sun of House Allan danced a little in the breeze, the white on the banner had been darkened slightly from hours of marching. The company formed alongside the Dupont Guard, which by now numbered only 11 men. Donald Augustus rode at the head of his unit, he sat astride a great white horse draped in the colours of his house. As the men formed up he looked across the plains and saw the beasts headed towards the small party of Lurian soldiers. A gibbering pack of abominations that bounded across the grassland, their foul stench permeated the air and filled his heart with dread. He signalled the Captains to form ranks and then dismounted his horse. When he had set out from Askileon over a year ago, Donald had been captivated by the idea of Lurian mounted Knight: armour gleaming in the sun with one hand resting upon a fine lance, he had aspired for this. But as many man with eyes could have told you, he was far more comfortable facing this threat standing on his own two feet, and he handing the reins of his horse to a squire. He stepped forward and turned to face the amassed warriors “Men of Luria! Fear not these creatures! Stand strong and do not let fear overcome you and we shall claim victory once more time!”

His usual composure that of unwavering confidence, was not difficult to maintain. Donald’s ability to appear before his fellow man with a resolve not unlike stone was his greatest skill, and even with a pack of abject horrors bearing down on him was unable to shake this. Nobody save Donald would know how terrified he was, these creatures were worth at least three warriors each, and these men were his responsibility. He returned to the ranks as the men cheered and found himself standing beside Sir Benedict, “Stand fast Sir Knight, this shall be over before we even know it” he said.

With that the men locked their shields and awaited the monsters who drew closer by the second. They moved rapidly across the plains, but as they neared the Lurian soldiers they seemed to quicken once again. One of the Captains barely had time to call for the men to brace before the beasts fell upon them.

The terrible creatures hurled themselves forward, their claws and fangs cutting, slashing and devouring the men of the front ranks leading several dead in a flash. Donald barely dodged one of the beasts who quickly decapitated one of the men nearby. He lunged forward in fear and fury and plunged his blade in the head of the beast, which recoiled and released a guttural scream.

With barely a second to find his feet another abomination slammed a clawed hand in to his shield splitting it instantly before being raised high for another swing. Donald reacted quickly and cleaved his blade across the monster’s malformed arm, cleaving apart its grey skin and spraying blood across his sword. The monster growled in pain and recoiled for a moment before leaping forward and crashed in to Donald, throwing him backwards.

He landed on one knee, sending pain lunging throughout his body and slung his sword in a wide, wild arc. The tip connected with the creature but it remained undeterred and made ready to strike once more. Donald let out a cry of fear and fury and with all his strength leap from his shaken knee and cleaved at the creature. He felt his blade connect with the wounded arm-like limb and then sever the thing completely.

He felt strong, powerful even! He pulled back his blood drenched blade and struck the thing once again, finally finishing it off. He grinned a savage grin and and thrust his sword in to the air in celebration.

He stood there for a moment, gathering himself, his adrenaline fuelled brain trying to make sense of it all. Then he became suddenly aware of his fatigue and his armour grew heavy, he buckled slightly under its weight on his exhausted body. Steeling himself he remained standing and turned his attention to the battlefield where fighting still raged. “F*ck” he said, all his manners and etiquette forgotten “There’s loads of the bastards”

He allowed himself a moment of rest before bearing his weapon once more and re-joining the fighting.

14th February

Day -- White Coast

Sofia Nistalia

Finally, Giask.

Her arrival was as grandious as the one before, crowds chanted her name as her men walked through, the banner of her house proudly risen, and the commoners swarmed the docks even before her arrival. In her mind, more important matters banished as she forced a smile, her men marching through the city in a parade to commemorate the victory on Garuck Udor. It was, by all standards, makeshift and quick, but it worked for her. The chanting of "Saint of Santoo" and "Hero of Luria" bolstered the flames of faith within her.

Her plans were working as she planned, and soon it would all work as she wanted.

20th February

Day -- Giask

Aldrakar Renodin

Sir. The messenger intoned. The man was of middling age and enjoyed the confidence of advancing years and dutiful service. The Knight of Askileon, Sir Jeffrey of House Birkenhead has accepted your challenge to a training duel. Warm eyes glanced over to the parchment in the messenger's hand. Good. I look forward to test the mettle of this new Generation. Aldrakar spoke quietly as he inspected the swords on display at the academia.

Jeffrey Birkenhead

The white towers of Poryatown stood boldly, reaching into the sky above Jeffrey's and the Birkenarrows' heads. Setting up camp close to the city, allowing the men and women to enjoy a handful of days exploring the town, Jeffrey and his loyal captain Andrea were sitting in the commander's tent, brooding over a current map of the lands of Luria Nova.

"Sir Jeffrey, I recommend we move again soon. Some of your men are growing restless." "Don't be hasty, I haven't even attended the court of Duke Renodin yet. Come to think of it, I should have sent a letter first..."

A tall, athletic woman with features eerily similar to Jeffreys entered the tent; it was Bethany Birkenhead, second cousin to Jeffrey, who volunteered serving Luria as part of the Birkenarrows from the day Jeffrey rose to notability and has been dutiful and true in aim ever since.

"Jeffrey, a messenger arrived at our camp. Says he bears a request from Aldrakar Renodin."

Jeffrey smirked. "Speaking of which. Apparently our arrival has not gone unnoticed... well, how could it have with us setting up a camp of six dozen men and women. You can tell him he is welcome here."

Bethany nodded and slipped out of the tent, only to be ushering in the messenger, a middle aged man with apparent confidence in his trade, moments later.

"Sir Jeffrey Birkenhead, Knight of Askileon, Duke Aldrakar Renodin sent me to inquire if you are willing to accept a request for a trainign match."

"A request for a training match? Haha, that exceeds my expectations. I accept! A friendly spar can't hurt, and, who knows, maybe I can even learn a thing or two."

"So be it. Anything else you may want to add, Sir?"

"No, nothing except that I am looking forwards to it!"

Night -- Euschean Sea

Matthew Coffey

The journey to Giask had taken less time than Matthew expected, or at the very least, felt as if it were far shorter. Having spent much of it below deck writing the finishing touches to his treatise, the young lord was satisfied that his work was finally complete. After weeks of writing, reading and doing it all over again, he could sit back and admire his handiwork. True enough there were likely spelling mistakes and grammatical errors, he was just glad the core of it was finished. Now all that he needed was enough copyists in Giask to get the treatise written up in time for the festivities. Not that he expected anyone to read during such, the thought of which amused him somewhat. Too dry for the merrymaking he was looking forward to.

The thought of seeing the many faces he had only met in times of strife caused him to sigh. He had received a few scattered reports of monsters, here and there about the empire, but all that seemed distant to him from his books and the road. Moon Hall was well guarded and had been enjoying his company for some time now. He hoped he might see his acquaintances in lighter company, with good news and hearty tales to accompany some strong drinks. They all deserved it, to say the least.

A knock at the cabin door interrupted his quiet thoughts about any reunion at the capital. Drawing himself from his chair, Matthew lumbered toward the door, opening it to reveal the small, white haired woman that was suspiciously named 'captain' of this voyage. He wasn't confident about taking the ferry under this individuals command, but reluctantly conceded to his servant that he would be late otherwise.

"We'll be arriving soon your lordship, within the hour, no doubt about it." The wiry woman grinned toothily at him, causing an involuntary grimace from the man. Perhaps it was the lack of etiquette, or maybe her age. Matthew couldn't quite tell.

"Good." Was the simple answer the captain received, and nothing more as the door shut in her beaming face. Surprised that she hadn't come to warn him of pirates or sea monsters. That would have really spoiled his day so far. Matthew went about gathering his things upon the desk, so that they might be packed away by the pair of servants he had brought with him.

There were a great deal of things that needed to be done before the festivities could take place, and he had only a few days before he expected the guests to begin arriving. Thankfully, it seemed he would not be alone in his preparations, as Sir William was in the capital pursuing his own work. That large fellow had surprised Matthew in his decision to take on the humble task of arranging provincial militias on behalf of the empire. A necessary task, and one that he hadn't thought of himself. Perhaps arranging the servants at the feast might suit him well now.

Stepping off of the ship into that fabled city once more, Matthew engaged in the customary sensory overload that was Giask's harbour. Perhaps he would start off with a little gift shopping, once the nausea had settled down...

22nd February

Day -- Garuck Udor

Matthew Coffey

Making his way from the Market district, most of his chores before the festivities complete, Matthew decided to take a small detour. With a single servant in tow, the man weaved his way through the bustling crowds with ease, less due to his grace and more due to the commoners making way for the larger lord. Passing through into the innermost city, walled off from rabble and invaders alike, Matthew came to stop in front of a lavish inn with an open topped garden.

Stepping inside, he was immediately assaulted by exotic scents and sounds. He could make out a table of D'haran merchants to one side, haggling or betting he couldn't tell. Some Fissoans, armed and wearing the wealth of plundered lands or peoples, made the bar their home. He, however, sought different prey. Catching the attention of a servant girl with a truly noble scowl, he asked for the whereabouts of a one sir William, who he knew to be in the establishment at the time. It was not long before he had ascended to the gardens, a more private and palatable place as far as he was concerned, seeking out his man. It wasn't hard really, sir William wasn't exactly small.

"It is good to see and hear the voice of our most noble militia captain," the lord smirked, somewhat amusing himself by the statement, "will they have you expanding the moat around Shinnen next? I hear it could do with some dogsbodies..." Had it been another, the tone could easily have been misinterpreted, but Matthew hoped the brawny knight had a sense of humour that accommodated his squire-esque banter. "I have ordered coffee, with sugar and cream. Unless you'd prefer something stiffer?" Waddling toward his companion, he decided to lounge on some great cushions, a comfortable custom that Matthew was glad persisted in the southern realms of eastern Dwilight. With a grin plastered across his features, he finally waved over his servant, who presented a small glass bottle filled with a light orange liquid. "A gift for you, rosewater from the grand market, I figured it would compliment your otherwise... Overly manly appearance."

Report from Ciarghuala Dubhaine

I've been in Garuck Udor for a couple of days enjoying the generous hospitality of Lord Benedict and boring him senseless no doubt with stories of my travels on the Inner Sea as is the way of us old seadogs.

Aside from the pleasure of a long overdue social call I had hoped to establish a militia company here to guard the western approaches but my Captain Septinia was concerned that with so many recent recruits after making similar arrangements in Irvington we lacked a competent sergeant to lead them. She even threatened to stay herself if I didn't make different arrangements.

So imagine my surprise when quite by chance I ran into a retired veteran this morning who owns a farm not three miles from the good Viscount's manor.

Gudhric is an old hand who sailed with my crew when I was raiding the rebellious cities of the Tomb Isles, so that's getting on for two decades ago. Not long after I settled permanently in Luria he met a local woman Shoereth and decided to use his share of our booty to set himself up in business in Shinnen Purlieus supplying grain to the Imperial Army, which is the last I saw of him. Apparently that venture did well enough that he could afford a good sized villa and in Garuck Udor and hardy servants to keep it running even when the hordes overran the region.

Anyway, over a pint or two of ale in the Western Prospect - a fine inn if you're ever in the vicinity - it transpired that he'd been widowed last year and with his sons now either serving in the army or settled in their own homesteads is now at something of a loose end. So I suggested perhaps he'd like to take the Emperor's Shilling and take command of a local militia company.

So thanks to good fortune Garuck Udor is now home to a fine detachment of Free Fontanese Guard under the command of Sergeant Gudhric. I trust they'll provide Lord Benedict with many years of faithful service, and into the bargain repay him for the depredations of my retinue on his wine cellar and pantry over the past few days.