Grindle Family/CripRP/Peace Time

Peace Time

Free Time

24 Nov 2007

Unit report for the current climate.

Crip Grindle

Skat Ability: 6

One-and-Thirty Ability: 10

Top Finish: Semi-final

Status: Advanced

Captain Werner (+5)

Skat Ability: 10

One-and-Thirty Ability: 8

Top Finish: Champion

Status: Expert

~=B.A=~ The Bridge

Strength: 22 men

Skat Training: 81 %

Cohesion: 98%

Average Skat Ability: 5

Designation: free time

Last paid: 5 days ago

Last tournament: today

Best schneider by: Prutu

Most improved: Warit

I am currently in Barad Falas with 7 Packs of Cards, 1 Dice, 2 Sets of Rules.

A Spiritual Moment

28 Nov 2007

Crip was sitting in Barad Falas. It had been a surprisingly tiring day. Although he had had nothing official to do, his men had organised a Skat tournament. He had played at a table with other nobles, while his men had played in the outbuildings. He'd lost a few gold pieces to one of the other nobles, and then he'd got a bit of a stomach ache. He wondered if it was related to the iron filings in his diet. He had heard a scout report that armies were on the way and a battle was imminent, but it had turned out to be incorrect information from a young, inexperienced scout. By then, though, he had taken the Carnifex Templar Maladek Arn's advice, and added iron filings to the afternoon meal. Now he and two of his men were experiencing discomfort, and he suspected it might have been more but for a number of his men who he believed had removed the additive.

He went to collect his horse, deciding to try to ride off his illness. Heading out from the walls of Barad Falas, he rode gently towards Galadia. The mighty mountains rose up in front of him: massive towers of stone, perhaps like those under which the sleeping father slept. His stomach still ached, but he was glad of the solitude, so tethered his horse and sat down to gaze at the mountain view.

He sat there for some time, and dusk fell as he thought about the Way. He knew that the iron filings were doing him good - why else would it cause so much discomfort? - and none of his men had had any delusions today so it must be working. As he rested back against a mound of bracken, he looked back up at the huge mountains of Galadia, closed his eyes, and wished he was back in Elroth with his family. It had been too long - he'd not even realised that they had hosted the priest, let alone whether they were in good health.

He was only half-awake... or was it half-asleep... or completely asleep but half dreaming of being awake... he wasn't sure, and the pain in his belly had worsened, when he became aware of something. A female voice. His mother? No, too strong, too confident. Lie back and sleep, rest, he knew he had to rest, so lie back and give the stomach time to recover. Libeck. Was that her name? It was her that was talking, telling him of his loyalty to his family, that he should spend time with them, replenish his strength with a visit home. His family would support him well but only if he supported them. Was loyalty not one of the greatest of virtues? Loyalty to his family was important. He knew that, but for now he must sleep.

A couple of hours later, Crip awoke, with a stiff neck, but a happier belly. The pain had mostly subsided, and he thought - no, he was quite sure - that it had done him good and he was a little more courageous now. He slowly rose, accustomed himself to the dim light, mounted his horse, and rode back to the pleasant dinner awaiting him in Barad Falas.

The Story of Laybeck, Warrior Saint of the Sword

28 Nov 2007

Crip is in Barad Falas, recounting the story of his experience to Sir Friedroch, when a middle-aged man comes over to them.

Man: I know of whom you speak, may I sit with you, good sirs?

Friedroch: What do you know of this?

Man: I am Jirgen Ghrabi, from Melias originally, but I made Barad Falas my home many years ago. You spoke of a Laybek?

Crip: I think that was her name, it was all so, so confused.

Jirgen: I think you must have met Laybeck. Laybeck of the Sword. It was while I was a child that I first heard her story.

Crip: [with uncertainty] She was... she did not mention swords, just loyalty and family.

Jirgen: [pauses for a second in thought, then nods] Ah, she was also known for the loyalty to her family - I must tell you the story.

Laybeck was the most beautiful daughter of Sir, erm, Sir Oundem of Amriel. She should have been married to Lord Byrd, but she turned her back on that life for one of battle and adventure. She roamed the eastern lands of Atamara, fighting monsters and killing dozens. She made a name for herself as a fierce warrior.

She always carried the same sword - one with a ruby on the hilt, and a blade sharp enough to slice a tree in two. You might have noticed the ruby when you saw her, sir?

Crip: Erm, well... hmm, I think so, well, did I even see her?, but yes, there might have been a ruby.

Jirgen: Quite certainly there would have been, sir, for she carries no other weapon.

Laybeck was a master with swords. Her sword was the sharpest and best-balanced, and it was she that helped to design it in a blacksmith's in Shanandoah. With that sword she killed a thousand beasts, so it was told.

Ten years she spent, roaming the east coast, ridding it of monster threats, and gaining swordsmanship at every turn. There was no match for her, and along the way she had companions, to whom she taught swordsmanship and for whom she helped create the finest blades. Those companions were truly loyal to her in their time spent together, and she to them.

After a decade, she heard word of a terrible situation. Her family in Amriel were under threat from evil beasts from the Elost mountains. They had come down from the heights and were ravaging Amriel. She had not been close to her family, but she knew she must return, for loyalty was strong within her. On arrival in Amriel and her family's estate, she found her family safe but terrified of the unknown beasts in the region. She stayed with them each night to protect them.

On the third night, the attack came. Giant evil beasts came forth from the mountains, and appeared on her family's estate. She saw them coming, and hurried to protect her family. Her sword slid gracefully through one of the beasts, then another, and soon there were a collection of dead hairy bodies surrounding her. But then a far more giant beast appeared. It put the other beasts in its shadow, such was its height and strength. Laybeck had two choices. She could run, save herself, or stay and fight the giant monster. If she fled, as she would surely have been right to do had she been on her own, she would been able to take cover in the trees and survive. But she knew that by doing so she would leave her family to the beasts, and that she could not do.

She took her sword and ran headlong into the prime beast. Her only option was to take it by surprise. Before it had noticed her, she had run into it, and her sword was slicing easily through its abdomen. But then, as she knew it must, it took her in its hands and crushed her. She lived just long enough to witness the beast falling dead onto its back - still clutching her broken ribs.

The sword was never recovered. Some say it was taken by the remaining beasts and acts as a reminder to them never to attack us again. Others say that her father retrieved it, but it was lost along the long stretch of time between then and now.

Whatever the outcome, know this: that Laybeck was the epitome of loyalty, and died for her family with her mighty sword still in her hand.

Jirgen finishes, but remains sitting expectantly.

Crip: [clearly taken by the story] And Laybeck - she became a Warrior Saint?

Jirgen: [nodding in agreement and looking thoughtful before replying] Yes, a ... yes, she became the Warrior Saint. Laybeck, Warrior Saint of the Sword! Oh, and of family and loyalty too, of course, sir.

Crip: [nodding, and giving Jirgen the couple of gold coins he was clearly angling for after parting with such information] It must have been her - Friedroch, I have met Laybeck, Warrior Saint of the Sword. And! Just think, perhaps that is why only so recently I have had blessings with finding Haragh, who creates such a fine blade for me!

The Disappearance of Duke Tank and Lady Ilya

10 Feb 08

Kruthi: It is, I tell you, it's the lack of blood.

Yugi: You think so? I can see to that if you need me to [gives a look to Prutu, who grins back with a mock-menacing look]

Kruthi: It's no conincidence that both Duke Tank and Lady Ilya were taken from regions near hills and mountains. The God of Earth and Stone has vanished them away!

Lerati: Terribly sorry to interupt, but almost every region is near hills or mountains. And how do you vanish someone?

Kruthi: How should I know? Do I look like a God?

Lerati: Well, no, sorry. But I still don't believe it. There will be a normal explanation. Probably just an illness.

Kruthi: What do you think, Prutu?

Prutu: God.

Kruthi smiles to Lerati, who shakes his head and almost walks into Sir Crip, as he enters the room.

Lerati: Oh, sorry sir, hello sir, I was just...

Crip: Yes, Lerati, so you were. Now what is all this commotion about?

Kruthi: The disapparance of Duke Tank and Lady Ilya, sir. What else could be more important a topic?

Crip: Your training, perhaps? We must trust that news of Duke Tank and Lady Ilya's safety will come before long. And in the meantime, I suggest that you pray to Saint Isa, that she might help find them if they are in difficulty. Now stop this gossiping, and get your weapons repaired ready for afternoon training. Go!

Banking in Tucha

22 Feb 2008

Crip walks into the bank in Tucha.

Crip: Hello, good man, I would like to transfer these twenty-five pieces of gold to Duke Willem Tinsley please, immediately.

Cashier: I'm sorry, sir, we cannot transfer gold, we must transfer bonds.

Crip: Very well, convert these to bonds, and send those. That would be acceptable.

Cashier: I'm sorry, sir, do you have another twenty-five gold pieces?

Crip: No, I just want to send these twenty-five pieces here.

Cashier: Yes, I appreciate that, sir, but do you have another twenty-five gold pieces in order for me to convert these to bonds?

Crip: [starting to get a little frustrated] You are charging me twenty-five gold pieces in order to transfer the same amount!?

Cashier: No, sir, sorry, sir, you can have that twenty-five back straight afterwards. It's just that we can't issue bonds of less than fifty gold pieces.

Crip: So, let me get this straight: You want me to give you fifty gold pieces, so that you can transfer them all to bonds, then send twenty-five to Duke Willem as I requested, and then you'll just hand the rest back to me? Why should I be stuck with extra bonds just to be able to send a few?

Cashier: Oh, no, sir, we'd convert them back to gold for you.

Crip: Even though there would be only twenty-five left?

Cashier: Of course, sir.

Crip: Well I have only forty-eight pieces of gold with me. Now let me check. If I had fifty, I could give them to you, you'd convert them to bonds, send twenty-five to Duke Willem, then give me the remaining twenty-five back as gold.

Cashier: Yes, sir.

Crip: Which would give the same result as if you converted twenty-five to bonds, and I kept the other twenty-five as gold?

Cashier: Well, yes, sir, it would, only we don't d...

Crip: Yes, so why can I not just give you the twenty-five pieces of gold, you convert them to bonds and send them, and I'll just keep my remaining twenty-three?

Cashier: Well, sir, you'd need to give me another twenty-five gold pie...

Crip: [now really annoyed] How is this so hard to understand? Just send these to Duke Willem! No messing about converting and unconverting funds that I don't have and you don't need!

Cashier: But sir, we do need the extra funds, to convert them to bonds, and...

Crip: And to convert them straight back again! Do you not see the nonsense in that? - you're messing around requiring gold from me when I don't have it to give, and you don't need it!

Cashier: It's not nonsense, sir, with all respect, since we do need it.

Crip: You said you'd give it straight back - so you don't need it!

Cashier: We need it to convert to bonds, sir.

Crip: Ok, ok! Right. How about, if I give you forty-eight gold pieces. You make out bonds for fifty gold pieces, send twenty-five, and then when you convert them back, just give me back twenty-three gold pieces. That way you can create your precious bonds, and we can get this done and I can get out of here.

Cashier: Oh, no, sir, I'd need fifty gold pieces; we can't convert less than fifty gold pieces to bonds.

Crip: Damn it, so I see! So just bend it so that it works!

Cashier: I'm very sorry, sir, I can't do that, it would be most improper.

Crip: Bah!

Crip curses the cashier, curses the bank, curses the world, and has to have a double brandy to calm down.

He sits and muses over a future where banks are all automatic and you could just think gold from one place to another... in a few hundred years' time, this sort of nonsense would never happen. Damn it for him being born in the wrong century.

A New King - not "of the Mist"

25 Feb 2008

Crip: Where is my sword, please, Liert?

Crip's scribe fetches it for him.

Crip: Liert, there must be some mistake. For it is the start of the week, we have war looming, yet this sword is blunt. Not only is my sword sharpened at the start of every week, but it is sharpened in readiness for battle. My sword would be far sharper than this. So where is my sword.

Liert: [pointing to the sword] But, Sir, this is your sword - see, the mark where you slayed the undead near Tucha...

Crip: Yes! I know! So why is it so blunt!?

Liert: Sorry, sir, I shall find out.

Liert takes the sword and walks outside. He finds some of Crip's men sitting around.

Liert: Lerati, why is Sir Crip's sword so blunt? He is fighting mad about it - well, as mad as he ever gets, anyway.

Lerati: Oh, sorry, er, well, er, I would think that would be Haragh's job, er, probably, wouldn't it?

Prutu: Haragh.

Klurt: [pointing] He's over there somewhere.

Liert walks away in the direction of Klurt's finger, and soon finds Haragh. He's sat, on a small rock, a report in his hand, and tears rolling down his cheeks. Liert takes the report, nods as he sees 'Lord Jambo: 428' at the top of it, and sits down next to Haragh.

Liert: Haragh. You're no use to anyone like this. Now get this sword sharpened before Sir Crip uses it to carve you into tomorrow's dinner. Worse things have happened. And Jambo will be a fine King, just you see.

Haragh takes the sword, shakes his head, and mopes off to sharpen it.