Wein Lowell
Sniper
The Noble Arrow
If you're a glory hound, then I'm king of the glory hounds
Posts: 268
Lycia Fame: 2
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Post by Wein Lowell on Aug 30, 2014 16:38:43 GMT -6
The sun was setting in the west, lighting up the sky with a brilliant shade of orange as Wein looked out across foothills. This was it. After stopping off in Remi, he was at the border. As crossing into Etruria would be the most dangerous part of the journey for Hiro’s insurgents, this would be the part where Wein would have to pay the most attention. He needed to make sure he learned all the ins and outs of this crossing, including the fastest routes, the most secluded routes, the Etrurian patrol patterns, or any terrain obstacles that could waylay the small army.
For starters, the archer began by running through the list of potential catastrophes he could see befalling the fledgling volunteer army. The border’s presence along the South Illian mountain range meant that Hiro’s men would be vulnerable to flash floods and mudslides if the weather decided to take a turn for the worse while they crossed. Of course, given the season, heavy rain clouds this far north weren’t likely. In arboreal climates, weather patterns typically occurred in the spring, when temperature was beginning to rise, but one always had to consider the possibilities. That being said, it still wasn’t likely, so Wein pushed the thought from his mind.
Worse than natural disasters would be being found by Etrurian military, so the Ostian shifted his focus. They’d have to get across the river without being noticed, a perilous task for over one hundred men and women. From his hilltop position, he could see a shallow section of the river, peppered with rocks and silt, where the would-be soldiers could cross, but it was a ways away out where the terrain was just beginning to flatten out. That made it a spot where crossing force could be more easily spotted. If Hiro’s men moved at night, it would mitigate some of the risk, but the Prophet wasn’t stereotyped as an omniscient divine, not only by his followers but his foes as well, for a reason.
Knowing that the most obvious route was not always the best, Wein continued to look for more routes through when he was interrupted by a snapping twig. Already nervous as it was being this close to enemy territory, the archer practically leaped into the air, his head spinning like a top as he tried to spot the source of the noise. But the brush was too thick.
“Jya?” he uttered meekly, not wanting to be too loud in case he was being stalked by a less than benevolent presence. But, wait, if that was the worry, then why was he talking at all? If it was Jya, and he wanted to get a response, he’d need to speak, but speaking at all to an enemy would signal his position. Ugh, but he needed to know if it was her!
It shouldn’t be her, though. They had split up to cover more ground. They were supposed to reconvene in… Wein glanced at the sun. It was still setting. Two hours? After dark for sure. Maybe something had gone wrong and Jya was here to warn him? Hopefully that was the case. Wait, no, hopefully that wasn’t the case! The last thing they needed right now was for something to go wrong, and it was Jya that would mean a change of plans, and plans only changed when things go wrong. But if it wasn’t Jya, then that meant it was probably Etrurian patrolmen.
His heart pumping in his chest, Wein pushed his way back through the underbrush that he had made his hideout, emerging on the other side. Nothing. Not a person to be seen. Had it just been an animal? The Ostian allowed himself a short, harried sigh of relief. Maybe. At least he hadn’t come out to a sword in his face. He made his way back through the bushes to his lookout point. Ok, river crossing was a maybe, perhaps they could find...wait, what was that!?
Coming around the corner of a nearby hill, Wein spotted the light of a lit torch. It was being held by a man, who was being followed by a bunch of other man wielding spears. Oh no. A patrol. Like a turtle, Wein sucked his head back into the bushes. What to do, what to do? He’d have to hide here. Nobody was paranoid enough to walk to the top of a hill just to check some underbrush, right?
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Post by Riva Harel on Aug 30, 2014 20:35:47 GMT -6
Even at sunset, an Etrurian military camp was still buzzing with life. While the men on day service for the month were readying themselves for a night of rest, the remaining men were already being sent out on their night patrols of the Etrurian-Ilian border. Anyone entering the Etrurian borders needed to have proper documentation and had to go through the proper checkpoints in order to be admitted, so a constant patrol presence 24/7 was an absolute necessity.
Officer Harel clearly saw the importance of this, as her battalion was often moved to high-priority parts of the border when they were due for border patrol. Some of the men weren’t entirely thrilled to be on patrol duty for the next few weeks, but it was better than their march around the delta to get to their current post. Riva would be the first to admit the march to a new post was not her favorite part of her years in the military, but it was a necessary evil. Besides, she had Zuriel and her men to keep her company.
“Officer Harel?”
Riva looked up from the map she had been pouring over in her tent. It was her usual evening ritual, marking the points of interest that had been identified by the men. She was no cartographer, but she would be damned if she didn’t take meticulous notes when on assignment. It was something she learned from Uri, as many a time he was able to formulate a brilliant plan or find a miniscule chink in a force’s armor based on a small note that most would have deemed irrelevant. One of the many things she missed about the man when she was feeling nostalgic.
The female voice that had called Riva’s name belonged to one of the younger soldiers serving in the battalion, a Beatrice Pryce. Though at a mere 20 years of age she was already the head of her own squad, and was looking to be one of the frontrunners for a platoon leader after a few more years in the service. Ambitious, incredibly bright, but unfortunately not from a family name of note, so becoming a lieutenant with command of a platoon was likely as far as she would be able to rise.
“Good to see you rested, Pryce.” Riva lifted her hands from their resting place on the table, already standing as the young woman gave her a customary salute. “Is your squad ready for the night ahead?”
Pryce gave a single, sharp nod. “Yes ma’am. You asked me to report when we were ready to march.”
“So I assume you are?” Another sharp nod. “Good. Allow me ten minutes to saddle up; I’ll be coming with your squad tonight.”
The woman’s eyes widened, clearly shocked that they would be patrolling with the high officer, but she simply gave a third nod. “Yes ma’am.”
Riva smiled. “Alright, then dismissed Pryce, get back to your men.” With that, the young woman gave a quick salute and ducked out of the tent.
Riva’s ten minutes went by quickly, but she was very good at dressing and saddling quickly after all of her years on active duty. So it was no surprise when the fully armored High Officer walked her horse over to the small squad of twelve men, headed by Pryce and ready to get moving. As they caught sight of Riva, they instantly straightened up, a unified salute going through their ranks as she passed. Riva saluted in return, leading Zuriel to the front of the squad before mounting him, looking down to where Pryce stood on foot. The officer knew if she didn’t say something now, the men would look to her instead of their squad leader for orders. “Lead the way, Sergeant Pryce.”
Sergeant Pryce instantly switched into her role, moving the small group away from the camp and towards their patrol path. They weren’t far from the river, and they would be patrolling a 5 mile section of the border. Riva didn’t expect to see much, considering the past few days had been largely uneventful, but she was tired from being in her tent all day and needed some time out. Even if she was High Officer, that didn’t mean she'd lost her soldier spirit.
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Freya Brünhild
Troubadour
It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings!
Posts: 23
Profession: Cleric
Affiliation: Inquisitional Army
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Freya
OoC Alias: Synkkis
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Post by Freya Brünhild on Aug 31, 2014 20:26:40 GMT -6
The young troubadour found herself busy as a bee within the fort acting as High Officer Harel's aide. She had just sent defense and patrol notes to a few of the lower officers when she was ready to report back to Riva. Much to her dismay, she had already left for her patrol. She was like that, always leading by example. Looking out the gate to where her Officer left, she pouted a bit. "I thought for sure I'd catch up to her." Freya sighed, grasping onto the iron grid of the gate as she tried the spot the patrol to no avail.
She couldn't just ride out to the commander... that was strictly against rules to leave by herself and without orders. She'd just have to kill time here in the Etrurian camp until Riva returned. If anyone could take care of herself it was Officer Harel, but she still worried. After a good five minutes or so, Freya was starting to die of boredom. Back to the campfire! It was too darn cold out here in the mountains near Ilia. Back at her tent, she fueled her fire with a bit more wood and then lit a lantern on a metal rod that stuck out of the ground she could hang it from. Luxuries.
Reaching into the acolyte's satchel she bought some time ago, she pulled out a plain red-covered book which she read intently. Riva always had her going at 110% so it was nice having some time to herself that wasn't spent sleeping or doing tasks. This was her time just for her. It didn't take long for the young woman to be enraptured by the text in the book and her to start snickering.
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Wein Lowell
Sniper
The Noble Arrow
If you're a glory hound, then I'm king of the glory hounds
Posts: 268
Lycia Fame: 2
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Post by Wein Lowell on Sept 2, 2014 0:02:38 GMT -6
Wein’s heart continued to thump in his chest like a rabbit that had drunk way too much coffee. It took him great effort to slow his breathing, but he had to do it or else he might be heard. He was panicking. What if those soldiers found him? This was Etruria. They’d probably kill him or something, and probably brand him a heretic before they did it, too. If he was going to die, the last way he wanted to do it was by being hung in front of a bunch of raging Etrurian zealots that wouldn’t shed even a tear for him. He was a good man, dammit, and he deserved to be treated like one!
The Ostian’s eyes stole a glance back out of the bush, attempting to check the status of the patrol troop, but unfortunately he couldn’t see much given the numerous branches that were in the way. He considered sticking his head back out for a better look, but he didn’t want to do so just to get spotted. Ugh, he had thought this scouting run would be uneventful. There hadn’t been much reason to think otherwise. Really, what were the odds he would run into a patrol right as he reached the border? Apparently high. Wein took note that his own experiences tended to fly in the face of conventional statistics.
Taking a deep breath, Wein decided he was going to have to peek back outside of the brush if he was going to plan an escape route. It wasn’t like he could properly escape if he didn’t know the enemy’s position or behavior. That was basic tactics:
Thus, what enables the wise sovereign and the good general to strike and conquer, and achieve things beyond the reach of ordinary men, is foreknowledge. Now this foreknowledge cannot be elicited from spirits; it cannot be obtained inductively from experience, nor by any deductive calculation. Knowledge of the enemy's dispositions can only be obtained from other men.
Wein recalled the passage from a book he’d read, though at the moment he couldn’t remember the name of the title. His mind was still too panicky. Still, the mental recitation helped calm his nerves. It was a mental exercise the Ostian had developed to do just that, given his flighty nature. Heroes couldn’t be jumping at shadows, now could they? Nobody looked up to a guy that peed his pants scared at the first sign of danger.
Speaking of… that, what was that sound? Wein turned to look at the other side of the bush where he heard a soft trickling noise. It sure sounded a lot like, er, urination. Tentatively, he scooted over to take a closer look, but a shocked face made its way across Wein’s face almost immediately as he wished he hadn’t. Poking his head out of the brush, the archer found himself right next to a man’s very pantless crotch, and that man was currently…
...peeing. Like right there. You know, right there on the bush next to him. Wein was pretty sure he had felt some of it on his hand.
“Argh!” shouted the two simultaneously as Wein jumped out of the bush while the other man began hoisting up his pants. It only took the Ostian a glance to realize that the man was clad, or at least half-clad in this case, in Etrurian armor. What the hell!? Why was there a patrolman taking a bathroom break all the way up here? The sniper didn’t have time to nock an arrow, so instead he thrusted of of the bladed tips of his bow at the soldier. The soldier jumped back, Wein’s weapon scraping against his breastplate, and drew his arming sword. He knocked the archer’s weapon aside, and shoved the sword right up against his neck. Wein froze, terrified of the blade that now made its home right under his chin.
“Umm, I’m, uhh, I-Im sorry for wa-watching you p-p-p-pee,” he stammered, before mentally slapping himself. Dammit, he was a scout, not some sort of creepy pervert. The soldier just made a disgusted face before shouting over Wein’s shoulder.
“I found someone up here!” barked, making his voice heard down the hill. “Someone go get the sergeant!” The Ostian just shook his head, blinking back the quick onset of frustrated tears. No, no, no! He’d already escaped from the last guys that tried to take him to Etruria, and now this? They'd probably kill him!
Someone help.
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Post by Riva Harel on Sept 8, 2014 19:41:29 GMT -6
An uneventful patrol would be considered a successful night in Riva’s mind, but she always had a task in mind when she set out on a round like this with her soldiers. Sometimes it was just getting to know them or something of the sort, but tonight she was watching how Pryce handled her men So far, everything about the young woman’s stature and tone gave Riva the impression that she was more than capable in her current role, which was very good. While other officers only concerned themselves with their platoon or – Spirits forbid – their company leaders, Riva knew a strong battalion required all of the levels of command to be working efficiently together, from the smallest squad leader like Pryce.
It was one of the officer’s practices that garnered some flak from her colleagues, but Riva didn’t mind much. What she was doing worked, and she didn’t intend to change her ways to those of her less successful colleagues. She wasn’t the best battalion in the army, but she was good enough to garner positive attention from their high commanders. That was a success in and of itself for Riva in these tumultuous times.
Her horse Zuriel stepping lightly on the slightly soft ground underfoot, Riva took her eyes from Pryce for a moment to look over their surroundings, largely made up of a spattering of tree cover and wild shrubbery. They were actually close enough to hear the water running in the river, but their loud footfalls and clanking armor covered most of that relaxing sound. Other than that, most of the features of the landscape were blanketed in darkness as the sun was finishing its setting behind the horizon. Just a faint orange glow peeked through some of the gaps in between the leaves.
If Riva’s timing was right, they should be passing the north patrol in a few minutes time, so she focused her attentions to Pryce’s movements until she heard the movements of another patrol... paired with should and quick movements. Riva tilted her helmeted head, curious as to what the men were so frantic about. As they approached, it sounded like they were looking for their squad leader. It didn’t take the harried soldiers long to see the approaching squad with the officer in tow.
“High Officer Harel!” One of the halberdiers came to the front of the squad, saluting Riva as she came to a halt. “I think Sergeant Grahm is with the other half of the squad finishing the first north 2 patrol, but Private Lokir found someone!”
Riva raised a brow, her attention captured. “Pryce, get the rest of Sergeant Grahm’s men organized while...” Riva squinted, trying to make out who she was speaking to, “Private Gibbs here takes to meet our visitor.”
“Yes ma’am,” Pryce and Gibbs both saluted Riva before splitting off to follow her orders. While Pryce started to rally up both squads, Gibbs began walking towards some thicker tree cover, leading the commander who was still seated atop Zuriel. Barely a minute passed before she spotted none other than Private Lokir with his blade at a dark-haired man’s throat. A short “tch” with her tongue brought Zuriel to a halt to allow Riva to drop to the ground, dropping his reins to the ground as a signal for the horse to stay put as the high officer approached the foreigner.
With dark blue jacket and just a shoulder’s worth of padded leather armor, the man didn’t appear to be much of a threat, especially considering his bow lay on the ground in front of him. Looks could be deceiving, of course, but unarmed and surrounded by some of the best soldiers Etruria had to offer didn’t put the man in an advantageous situation.
Riva looked over to Private Lokir. “Never thought your small bladder would benefit the battalion, Private, but it looks like it has served Etruria well tonight.” The private looked embarrassed, realizing the officer had likely noticed his still unbuckled belt but unable to fix the error. Riva smiled, unhooking her axe from her belt and lifting the bow from the ground, handing it back to Private Gibbs.
“Private, make sure we take good care of our visitor’s belongings.” Riva moved closer to the man, looking him up and down again, a soft “tsk” coming from her as she gave a slight shake of her head. “You picked the wrong night to take a nighttime stroll. Lokir, buckle up and make sure to bind his hands. Sergeant Pryce ‘s squad and I will be bringing our friend back to camp.”
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Wein Lowell
Sniper
The Noble Arrow
If you're a glory hound, then I'm king of the glory hounds
Posts: 268
Lycia Fame: 2
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Post by Wein Lowell on Oct 3, 2014 11:46:48 GMT -6
Wein could only curse as the red-headed woman approached him. Judging by the way the other men responded to her words, she was probably the one in charge. She took his bow and handed it off to the soldier that had marched up with her, which elicited a nasty look from the archer. That was the bow Valcrist had made for him! She couldn’t just manhandle it like that! Who the hell did she think she was, just taking it? Well, she was the head of this Etrurian border patrol, so that gave her quite a bit of authority, probably enough to take his bow if she so please, but still!
“What, can’t a guy hide in a bush without getting peed on and arrested?” Wein asked in an overly exasperated tone. He tried to adopt a more cool, joking manner, but try as he might, he could not hide the quiver of fear in his voice. Oh heavens, what were they going to do with him? Was he going to be hanged as an example to those who would try to sneak into Etruria? Or would they torture him, pull out his tongue and tear out his fingernails? Or would they just leave him to rot in jail forever? He quelled a shudder. All of those sounded pretty horrible, though if he had to pick one, he’d probably choose the gallows. At least that would be a relatively quick way to go. Oh heavens, oh heavens, no!
“Look, sorry, I didn’t mean to joke, just don’t kill me,” said Wein, putting his hands together in a pleading motion, which Lokir took as a signal to begin binding the archer’s hands. Wein shot the private a dirty look, but he didn’t struggle. He knew he was outnumbered, and close quarters combat wasn’t his particular forte anyways.
“Tell you what,” said the Ostian. His eyes lit up as he thought of a way to ensure his continued survival, at least for the time being. “My name is Wein Lowell, of House Lowell of Ostia. I’m a noble who escaped a couple of Ostian defectors to Etruria up north. I have connections in Lycia that may be of use to the Prophet. Please, I can be of use to you.” Wein looked at the woman pleadingly. He knew he sounded cowardly and not at all heroic, which made him feel like a damn fool, but what use was there in dying here? There was nothing heroic in getting executed by border patrol either.
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Freya Brünhild
Troubadour
It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings!
Posts: 23
Profession: Cleric
Affiliation: Inquisitional Army
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Freya
OoC Alias: Synkkis
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Post by Freya Brünhild on Oct 11, 2014 4:00:48 GMT -6
Finishing up one of her chapters, Freya slipped a pink ribbon in between the pages as to not lose her mark. She replaced the book in her satchel and fished out a small draw-string pouch that had some hard candies in it. The young woman savored the treat, taking in the small pleasures while being in such a far Northern outpost as this. There were not that many amenities, so it really made her grateful for what she did have.
Realizing that without High Officer Harel around, Freya made a good target for any other officers of her peerage to pick up on Freya not being glued to Riva's side. She made a sly escape to the enlisted areas of camp where her rank itself was no problem for her to be there anyways even if her position was something that didn't bring her around the rank and file much unless she was with Riva.
Approaching the camp, she was greeted by many smiles. These actually looked genuine compared to some other soldiers she has ran into the past. There was no facade as these men and women were legitimately pleased to have her around. Perhaps it was because she was a fresh face for those who always were around one another? It was kind of that way for her now. No stuffy staff members, stern senior non-commissioned officers, or officers who acted more like politicians than leaders of soldiers.
As Freya approached the fire, a slight blush crossed her cheeks. She didn't recognize really anyone here, but they were already standing up to greet her and shake her hand. She made sure to give them a proper handshake and curtsey, but she remained rather quiet. It wasn't until she was offered a seat and she got a better look at the small group that the Troubadour noticed most of them had instruments and were tuning them. How exciting! She loved music! Her eyes really caught onto a woman's lyre and she became a little jealous that she could play such an instrument. Freya had gone the way of singing instead of using tools for music. Either way, she remained quiet as she heard them tune with each other.
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Post by Riva Harel on Dec 29, 2014 12:53:31 GMT -6
Riva smiled as she listened to the man plead to not be taken in. The high officer wasn’t one for unnecessary punishment, of course, and if it had been only a few weeks earlier, she likely would have considered just questioning the man then and there and letting him be on his way if he could properly prove his reason for being at the border. But tensions had been growing high within the ranks of the Etrurian military for reasons unbeknownst to Riva, which led to the borders being completely closed before dawn and after dusk. To add to that, any entry had to be done with proper documentation through an approved checkpoint. It was a pain considering the military had to be the ones to enforce it, but if the commanders believed the assignment was the best use of their time, Riva saw no reason to argue.
Now, the officer wasn’t sure where the man got off believing she would kill him then and there. As she tightened her hand around her lazily wielded axe, Riva realized her habit of drawing her weapon may have been the signal for that line of thought. The woman was always careful when it came to situations she couldn’t be sure of, which always led to her drawing her axe a bit sooner than necessary. The woman painfully remembered that Uri had always been the one who was better at working with civilians and keeping them calm when faced with uncertainty and the military.
Placing the axe back in its place on her belt, Riva placed her right hand on the pommel as Uri had shown her many years ago, in order to show the man she was only here to talk for now. She wouldn’t promise that would be the case once they got back to the camp and started talking to the man, as that remained to be seen. The man was a noble, which warranted note, though House Lowell was likely burnt to the ground with the rest of Ostia, so their influence might not hold sway any longer. Again, not Riva’s strength, so she’d have to defer to her own Low officer to see how the man should be handled.
“No need to fret yet, Mr. Lowell,” Riva said calmly as Private Lokir, now having composed himself, approached the man with rope in hand and urged him to hold his hands out. “You make an interesting offer, though you must understand my caution. Your intent may be genuine, but I have my doubts since you chose to ignore the legitimate channels. You can make your case back at our camp.” With that, whether the man offered his hands or not, Lokir would finish tying the man's wrists in front of him and urge him forward.
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Post by Valcrist on Feb 4, 2015 21:41:35 GMT -6
Etruria wasn't an easy country to do business in. People were suspicious, and scared of seeming overly eager. He didn't do military contracts in general, so that was a lot of potential fund down the drain. He worked too slowly, and honestly the thought of outfitting the Prophet's army pulled pits into his gut. He did a lot of things for money, some of which he might not be proud of, but that little idealistic part of himself that clung on to every injustice and every wrong and simply refused to say silent spoke volumes against it. He might not be joining the charge of righteous justice, but he wasn't going to turn around and simply aid something he was against for something as simple as gold. Maybe he just had a price on morals and ethics, and wasn't sure if he should be proud or disappointed that it was quite so high.
So generally he dealt weaponry to citizens, with proper permits of course he didn't want to be thrown in prisons, but that wasn't quite the lucrative venture he had assumed it would be from the outset. It might be more accurate to say he tried to deal weaponry to citizens. People were cautious to appear over eager, and even more cautious on how they spend their coins. He kept a record of every sale he made, and was to report the records to merchant's bureaus around the nation. They were nothing if not thorough, a purchase of a weapon to a citizen could be traced to who sold it and who bought it. While there was the simple bookkeeping of it all, there was very obviously an ulterior motive behind this. Anyone who bought a weapon could be traced, watched. It made sense in a way, weapons were dangerous and dangerous things needed to be monitored. It made things difficult though. Perhaps food merchants, or spice merchants got off easy, spreading tales of Etruria's affluence and willingness to purchase whatever random herbs they tossed about. No one was eager to buy weapons. For blacksmiths like Valcrist, if you didn't take government contracts, all it was is a jungle of paperwork for little money. Maybe the people were scared, or maybe they were so confident in their soldiers they believed themselves above weapons, but the simple fact was that Etruria was clearly not the place for him.
So he was leaving. Or well that was the plan. These things rarely worked out the way they were intended to. On the inside and going out, it sounds like it should be easier to breaking in right? Honestly he should have gone through the official channels but he had just had enough of the paperwork, he'd be held up another two days if he went the 'proper' way, and while it might kill his chances of returning (without a hefty restitution payment mind you) he wasn't terribly eager to come back to this little slice of Elibe and time soon. The merchant's guilds here were as ruthless as the ones leading the country, hell he heard rumors that many of the members were assassins in disguise using merchant as a cover story. Kraft, or whoever headed this sort of thing, understood how important controlling commerce was in controlling a kingdom. He had a thought of starting his own merchant's guild, short lived naturally as he was quickly soured on the thought after seeing how a real guild was ran. He was an artist, a swordsman, a blacksmith, not a bureaucrat.
Of course the most easy and simple of plans meant that it undoubtedly would foul up, since Valcrist couldn't have things easy. No, of course not, that'd be boring. The world liked to see him squirm. He wasn't traveling particularly heavy, a pack on his back containing personal items and a few more rare pieces he couldn't just toss. He sold the rest of his things to other blacksmiths at what was basically cost, barely breaking even. He just wanted the gold he spent in preparation back, he wasn't too concerned about making a profit at this point, and he wanted to travel light. One person with a pack was much less likely to be seen then a horse and wagon full of weapons. That was the thought, of course neither was particularly likely to sneak by what appeared to be a full Etrurian patrol. It was late, he'd have thought they wouldn't have been here now, but he could see them in the distance in the foothills.
He sighed. "Great." He said to all of the nobody listening to him. He hadn't been in Etruria long, in fact he only just arrived earlier that month, and already he was eager to get out. It was funny actually, he chose not to follow Hiro's 'heroes' to Etruria, but went there almost instantly anyways. More official, and without an army at his back perhaps, but the truth was he was sort of eager to see how Hiro's group played out. He wanted to be close when the action happened: It didn't. He cocked his head with a small grunt, now how did he go about doing this? He could turn back, but that meant making the trip back THEN going through the front door. Ugh, he didn't want to be stuck in Etruria all month. He could try to sneak, but his stealth was kinda less then spectacular and that pack didn't help. He doubted he could take them, they were a group of highly trained deadly soldiers, Kraft's army wasn't known for being easy to beat. Besides he wasn't looking for trouble anyways. If they caught him, they'd probably make him pay fines. Or throw him in jail. Or just outright kill him. Any one of those really. He could enter under the guise of being a traveling merchant, because he was, but somehow he doubted that would work out. Still he didn't think they'd kill him under that situation, maybe turn him back and tell him to make an official requisition with the military at one of the merchant's guilds, thinking him to be just an inexperienced merchant unaware of how things work. He was rather young, so that shouldn't be hard to pull off. Of course that turns him back anyways, and he was trying to get out and not back in. Hrm or-
"Halt!" Or he could stand there like an idiot and get spotted. Crap. Valcrist just had to love his internal monologues didn't he? A soldier of some sort and some rank, he could probably tell if he knew the first thing about Etruria's fancy uniforms and such. Instead it was just some guy with a lance. "Identify yourself, this is a restricted area."
"I-I, I'm just a Valcrist. I mean a merchant. I'm sorry." Valcrist threw his hands up instantly, eyes wide and shaking his hands just a little to show they were empty. "I-I was just looking to sell my wares in the area." He pleaded.
The soldier looked skeptical for some reason. Uh oh. Maybe the innocent merchant thing didn't work. By this point he had drawn the attention of a second soldier, who walked up with an almost disbelieving manner. "Another intruder? Hopefully you didn't you pee on this one." The man scoffed.
"He says he's a merchant, but... Get the commander. Two people so closely together may not be simple coincidence." Wow, he never knew before now but he really hated Etruria. Maybe Hiro was still hiring, he would enjoy blowing it up.
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Wein Lowell
Sniper
The Noble Arrow
If you're a glory hound, then I'm king of the glory hounds
Posts: 268
Lycia Fame: 2
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Post by Wein Lowell on Feb 7, 2015 22:01:35 GMT -6
Really? Captivity? Again? Ugh, this was getting very, very old. It really hadn’t been that long since he’d woken up bound to a wyvern by a pack of Ostian defectors in the process of shipping him to Etruria. Now he was in some dingy Etrurian holding cell because he had been caught by border patrol. Wein grit his teeth in frustration as he flicked his pointer finger repeatedly against the bars of his cell.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
It hurt a bit each time his nail struck the cold metal, but the pain helped take his mind off of the current situation. The jail cell itself was cold, wet, and musty, and the only source of comfort he was given to help with it was a pile of rough, scratchy hay to be used as bedding. They say you can tell a lot about a country judging by how it treats its guests, but how a country treats its prisoners is so much more telling, and in Etruria’s case, it’s not very good. But really, is that all that much of a surprise?
“Knock it off, Ostian!” came a shout from down the hall. Immediately Wein froze, and with it stopped the incessant sound of dinging. There was a moment of pause, during which the only sound that could be heard was the slow drip of water falling from the top corner of Wein’s cell. Was that it? Had he been making too much noise? The last thing Wein needed was more abuse. The men who had thrown him in here had already made sure to kick him in the ribs a couple of times. He was fortunate that they hadn’t broken anything, but why give them another chance? He’d sit here quietly if that was what was needed of him. The archer rather appreciated the intactness of his thoracic cage.
No further shouting, so that seemed to do it.
There was a long, slow, disappointed sigh as Wein put his hands behind his head and leaned back into his personal hay bed. There would be no squeezing out of his ropes and sneaking into town this time. Quite the pickle. They’d confiscated his bow, his quiver, his hunting knife, all of his food and water, his survival supplies, his books, and his boots. They even found the small strip of metal he kept sewn into his pocket for just such an occasion as this. Say what you wanted about their temperaments, but Etrurians were thorough, if not a bit violating…
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Freya Brünhild
Troubadour
It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings!
Posts: 23
Profession: Cleric
Affiliation: Inquisitional Army
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Freya
OoC Alias: Synkkis
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Post by Freya Brünhild on Feb 9, 2015 21:23:55 GMT -6
The young Etrurian never really considered herself a dancer as much as she had done singing, but here she was skipping around the fire dancing and singing along to the popular folk song the minstrels fretted out laughing as the nervous aide finally showed her true colors. Any man quick enough to pick up on the occasion stood up and danced with her. Freya never really had any trouble with keeping her mind occupied or entertained, yet she was having some 'real' fun for the first time she jumped in with the Army.
Just as quickly as it started, a sergeant came by and broke it up. "Haven't you all heard? We brought in two intruders! Now is not the time! We're sending out additional patrols." the sergeant barked, ordering the men to and fro. Usual bustle. Bleh. The fun police were out in force tonight. Freya would just have to pass her time otherwise until Officer Harel showed up.
Under the guise of official business, the blonde girl made her way towards the holding cells. Perhaps she'd be able to see these "Enemies of the Prophet" for herself. As stealthily as a troubadour could possibly ever be, Freya appeared at the front of the small guardhouse. "Heyooo~ So we got some people?" she mentioned to the rather unamused guardsman. After a brief pause she finally got down to serious business. "Do you like the color purple?" she asked, catching him off guard. Now was the time to strike! She started edging towards the door and placed her hand on the latch. "I don't really care for it. I'm glad the army doesn't really use it!" the naïve girl continued, hoping her plan would work.
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Post by Riva Harel on Feb 10, 2015 15:36:41 GMT -6
Zuriel snorted as Riva slowed his jog to a walk as they approached the camp’s entrance. “Whoa, boy, it’s alright,” she reassured her steed, patting him on the neck, just below his knotted mane in an attempt to soothe him. In reality, it was Riva who needed a bit of calming down. They’d barely been patrolling a few hours and had found two foreigners trying to sneak their way into the country. In the past week, no one had even appeared on the other side of the border, let alone tried to cross it. It made the officer wonder: why tonight, of all nights?
“High Officer,” one of the privates standing watch on the edge of the camp saluted as Riva dismounted. Giving a nod, she handed Zuriel’s reigns off to the man while instructing him to bring him back to the stables. While Riva enjoyed patrolling the border with the troops, she had bigger issues to deal with for now, mainly centered around the two men in their custody at the moment.
The man who had introduced himself as Wein had been brought back to the camp a little while ago, so by now he should have been in the holding pen. The other, well, Riva knew he existed, but she hadn’t had a chance to make his acquaintance yet. The men on patrol had run to get her when they’d found him, but Riva had decided it was best to make haste for the camp and talk to the “merchant” they’d found within the comforts of their camp. As much as she hated it, it was easier that trying to do everything while still out on patrol and trying to manage those men and women.
Which reminded her. As soon as the private began leading Zuriel towards the stables, Riva walked quickly toward her Low officer’s tent. A young man named Stephen Urban, her Low Officer was the man in charge of the battalion when she was out with the troops or on leave. Normally her appearance back in camp would mean Urban was relieved of his duties, but that unfortunately wouldn’t be the case for him tonight.
Pushing back the tent’s flap door, Riva entered the plain temporary housing. Some of the lower-ranking troops would pin small momentos to their bunks or the side of their tents, but Urban, like Riva, had only the basics in his tent: his cot, his pack, and his neatly-stored armor and officer’s uniform. As Riva entered, a shirtless Urban looked up from where he sat in the middle of his cot. While it was customary for the two to salute one another, Riva simply sighed and shook her head at the younger man, who smiled in return, standing and grabbing his officer’s shirt.
“Didn’t expect you back so soon Officer,” Urban said as he buttoned his shirt from his belly to his neck, tucking the tails into his pants before grabbing his jacket and slipping his right arm into it. “From the look of it, though, you’re not here to relieve me.”
“No,” Riva confirmed, shifting where she stood. “There were two men found within 2 miles of one another, trying to cross the border. I’m fairly certain it’s no coincidence, and more may be coming. We need to mobilize half of the day men and have them ready to go patrol the border within ten minutes. Can I trust you to handle it?”
Urban nodded, having finished buttoning his jacket closed. “Of course,” he replied, straightening the wrist cuffs of his jacket. “I assume you’ll be dealing with our visitors then?”
Riva nodded. “You know I don’t like when my men are threatened, and these intruder’s collective presence does just that. Keeping the battalion safe is my top priority, so it’s my personal duty to attend to the foreigners.”
His uniform adjustments done, Urban gave a quick salute, which Riva returned. “Yes ma’am. We can always count on you to have an eye out for us, High Officer.”
Riva smiled, moving to the side to let the clothed Urban pass as he went of to rally the sleeping men. They’d be unhappy, of course, but that was the risk that came with protecting your country. Sleep wasn’t the priority.
“Oh, and Urban?” Riva called after him before the man had gone too far, letting his tent flap fall. Urban looked back, though remained silent. “If you see Miss Brunhild, could you send her my way? I’ll be at my tent for about ten minutes, then straight to the guardhouse.” Urban nodded, another ‘yes ma’am’ confirming he’d follow the laid-out orders before he turned away again.
Riva went back to her own tent, entering the small canvas room that made her feel at home. She quickly began removing her armor piece by piece and replacing it with her officer’s uniform. The High Officer didn’t think it necessary to show up at the guardhouse in her full suit of armor. It was a statement too forceful to speak with their foreign guests. Besides, the armor was a tad uncomfortable, as Riva kept forgetting to have it adjusted by the battalion’s smith, so since she had just a bit of time before their guest arrived, she figured she’d changed into a much more comfortable set of clothes.
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Post by Valcrist on Feb 10, 2015 19:57:32 GMT -6
"Oh hey hey hey! Be gentle, I'm delicate." Val said as he was so rudely shoved from behind.
"Like a flower I'm sure, get moving." The soldier sneered as he jammed his shoulder into the small of the smith's back, he cringed a bit at the guard's rough mannerisms, but there wasn't a lot he could do about it. His hands were bound by scratchy rope in front of him, and they managed to take his pack as well as all of his swords. What a bunch of jerks. He could have run when they caught him, actually he should have run when they caught him, he's just now realizing that. Well they didn't manage to get all his weapons, after all he still had his rapier wit and silver tongue.
Yeah this wasn't gonna end well.
They captured him, which was wholly unnecessary really since he's about as dangerous as a kitten, and bound his up so he couldn't resist. He didn't resist either, since he thought they were just gonna ship him back to central and slap him with some fines, instead they were treating him more like a prisoner. They mentioned he was the 'second one' or 'another one' or whatever the words they used in specifics are, meaning that this was likely not about him sneaking by but rather about someone else sneaking by and him getting caught up in whatever nonsense the other guy was causing. Talk about bad luck, but then again for Valcrist this more like 'normal luck' since he really shouldn't have expected things to go well in the first case. Still, even bound and potentially headed to a death sentence it beat going through customs.
They came to a standstill for a few seconds, Valcrist having been forcefully escorted by two guards. One of the entered a tent of sorts, probably to talk to someone but the Nabatan wasn't paying attention. Instead he let his eyes drift around the area seemingly aimlessly. "Hey guardman, any idea how long this will take?" He asked in a casual manner. "I'm sure if I just show you my papers-"
"Be quiet." He said, interrupting Valcrist's statement. Geez, rude. The smith twisted his face into a frown as he gazed around. He didn't feel like he was particularly intimidating or worrisome for any reason or another, what kind of people think a single traveling blacksmith is a threat to the peace of an entire kingdom? Etrurians obviously, why'd he even bother asking, that was completely in character for them. Maybe he should throw in a few 'praise Krafts' or 'glory to Elmine' or whatever they say up here.
The soldier held a spear, Valcrist wasn't particularly talented with spears but he was certain he could make one work if he had to. He shrugged to himself, sighing. For all intents and purposes he wasn't really as worried as he ought to be, after all this could be what ends him. That soldier could stab that lance right through his chest and what could he do about it? Kraft could descend from his... wherever that man hides and order him dead and really what option did Valcrist have but to let it happen? Sure he could try to fight his way out, but he wasn't some one man wrecking team like Kenshin or Richter, maybe he could just make a run for it? It's still not too- Okay maybe it was too late.
The guard returned from the tent, giving a silent nod which prompted the man behind him to shove Valcrist again. He stumbled into the tent, landing on his knee and groaning. "Ow." He took in a sharp breath through the teeth, that hurt. Quickly he tried to explain what was going on as he stood up, of course it probably didn't matter as they simply didn't care. "Look I don't know what's going on, I just wanted to sell some weapons."
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Wein Lowell
Sniper
The Noble Arrow
If you're a glory hound, then I'm king of the glory hounds
Posts: 268
Lycia Fame: 2
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Post by Wein Lowell on Feb 16, 2015 10:23:48 GMT -6
Outside of being told to stay quiet, Wein had not heard a word from anyone, and to him, that was a good thing, because the Ostian had no delusions that the next thing he was going to hear was “We’re letting you go.” No, it would probably be something like “We’re transferring you to an actual prison” or worse, “We’re going to execute you” and neither of those were preferable to silence. Thus Ostian had made no effort to drum up any conversation or get himself visitors. Keeping things silent and peaceful seemed like the best course of action, because if he was lucky, they’d forget about him long enough for the cell to deteriorate and him to escape.
Of course if they forgot about him, that meant they’d stop feeding him, and he would starve. Then they'd probably have to men haul out his body, toss it into a pile the dead bodies of other unfortunate people they'd caught crossing the border, then they'd light them all on fire and use their ashes as fertiziler. They probably do so while dancing around in circles singing war songs, too.
Another sigh. Great, Wein, that was a wonderful thought. Way to stay positive. You're definitely going to get out of here like that, but thinking about it... was there any real reason to be positive in this situation? He had been crossing their border illegally, and it wasn't like Etruria had a reputation for mercy. Maybe it was just best to roll over and die in this cell. Probably easier than desparing about it.
Wonderful.
“Uggghhh…” groaned Wein as he ran a dirt covered hand through his hair.
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Freya Brünhild
Troubadour
It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings!
Posts: 23
Profession: Cleric
Affiliation: Inquisitional Army
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Freya
OoC Alias: Synkkis
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Post by Freya Brünhild on Feb 25, 2015 22:46:39 GMT -6
Of course it wouldn't work. "B-But purple is my favorite color! How could you not like purple!?" the guard whined, visibly upset. It didn't help that the man wore a purple shirt under his armor now that she could see a bit better with the illumination of a torch sconce. Actually, if purple people started attacking their camp right now, he would probably be chosen as their ambassador for mercy. Purple people would probably be merciless. Well, this guy wasn't merciful. He wasn't letting her pass.
"Well, I don't mean all purple! I mean that sickly brownish purple or purple that's trying to be pink! It just doesn't look healthy! I like regular purple." she said, trying to find some way out. She felt good. That was totally on the spot and it didn't sound bad neither!
"But the army doesn't use those kind! Are you some sort of purple hater!?" the guard was now getting pretty hostile. She stood by what she said. You can't trust purple people.
"Uhm... I'll go take a poll. See ya!" the aide took off towards her tent. She could never show her face around the prisons again! "I guess the foreigners are just gonna have to... pass me by~..." Freya sighed, now briskly walking. Seeing a lantern lit in the tent next to her own, she saw that Riva was finally back from patrol. So early, too? Goodie!
As customary to military custom, she stood next to the opening flaps of the High Officer's tent. She clicked her heels together, the riding boots she wore making a very clean and sharp sounding report that the army prized itself of. "High Officer, Ma'am!" Freya made herself known. However she would react, she didn't know. They did bring in prisoners, anywho. Despite how most people saw Harel, she did like to vent a little in a relaxed environment.
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