100 replies to this topic

[Defeatist Elitist]

"Careful," says Alfred, turning to the big mercenary, "You wouldn't want to question this man's birthright, would you? While it may mean little to you here and now, you would be wise to remember his station... And your own."

Edited by Defeatist Elitist, 20 December 2011 - 05:10 PM.

[-Cynthia-]

Rebekka snickered as the men argued amongst themselves about honor and beauty and whatever else. "I doubt this Lord Randel is too terribly concerned about your so-called honor anyway. Like it or not, you fled the field of battle- none of you are any paragons of warriorhood. And one has to consider that if Lord Randel is that desperate for reinforcements, he's probably not that much better off than we are. Still, the supplies mission sounds like a dead-end deathtrap- no offense to those involved of course- so I suppose I'll go see Lord Randel," she said to the group.

[Ether]

"Hmm... birthright doesn't mean much on the field of battle. But I suppose I may have said too much." Leonhard reconciled with a contemplative look on his face.

"No matter. So then, are there any others who wish to join us on the path to see Lord Randel?"

[Defeatist Elitist]

Looking the tall woman up and down, Alfred snorts.

"It's a pity you feel the need to come with us," he says, "I have a feeling whatever talents you may possess will be wasted on this route, but as you seem to know so much don't let me stop you."

"And I'm glad that you are able to see reason," he continues, turning back to the bulky man, "It's an all too rare trait."

Edited by Defeatist Elitist, 20 December 2011 - 06:01 PM.

[-Cynthia-]

Rebekka laughed at the Alfred's comment. "Oh, if I knew everything, I wouldn't be stuck with you lot. Besides, I have a feeling stabbing people through their vital organs will be a useful skill no matter where I am. Odds are we'll either run into headhunters or Ryslanders sooner rather than later," she said, looking him up and down. Rather fancy armor for a random soldier and given his comments earlier he seems like he could be someone of high status...not sure why random nobles are frequenting the Castrian army but I'm not complaining.

"Rebekka Ravensdale at your service milord," she said to him, extending her hand outward and giving him a roguish wink.

[Defeatist Elitist]

"I shudder to think what that implies," replies Alfred, taking the proffered hand, "Alfred of the house of Oldenfeld, the pleasure is yours I'm sure."

[-Cynthia-]

"It only implies as much as you want it to," Rebekka said elusively, briskly shaking Alfred's hand. "Oldenfeld...I've heard that name from my father, one of the older noble families in Castria. How in the world did you end up here?" she asked him, releasing his hand, tilting her head to the side in curiosity.

[Defeatist Elitist]

"It is both a responsibility and a priviledge to serve Castria on the battlefield, and I don't intend to abandon either," replies Alfred, "Though if you have that knowledge you probably have a contact within the nobility, am I wrong?"

[-Cynthia-]

"Well, at least you're smart enough to know discretion is the better part of valor," Rebekka said to Alfred. "My father was a Castrian nobleman, you may or may not be familiar with a Duke Devon Ravensdale? He did tell me a thing or two about Castrian customs, though I don't think I took too much of it to heart. Maybe you can teach me some along the way? While we're not busy trying to clear our names and fighting for our lives and all of course," she added as an afterthought.

[Defeatist Elitist]

"Blood is thicker than water," says Alfred, "If you ask me, I'll do my best to answer."

[Kopfjager]

Shayna had been quiet all this time, keeping her head down, listening to the plan, and mentally taking notes, but mostly ignoring the squabble between one of the mercs and one of the pompous lordlings. The battle yesterday had sapped much of her reserves, and despite her fatigue, she barely managed to sleep a wink through the night. She had fought, and fought, and fought, fighting to buy time for others to retreat before her, before she eventually was forced to pull back herself, only to see that many of those she fought to save never made it to safety, either being caught by Ryslanders or just dying off from their wounds along the way. not that she got away unscathed either. Her right arm still stung where she took a couple of cuts - she hoped the cuts were not deep enough to cause her troubles should she need to fight, and she prayed that what cleaning she did before she bandaged them would stave off infection, which could easily be fatal in these conditions - and she still can't get used to seeing the world with just one eye, having lost her right eye to an arrow that went through her helmet's eye slit - though fortunately the arrow lost enough force punching through the helmet that it didn't outright kill her instead.

Her armor and shield looked about as battered as she is, cuts, dents, and obvious signs of wear and tear on them, and the flanged mace she kept hanging from her belt still showed the dark red of dried blood on its head, remnants of her victims yesterday. The plan outlined seemed pretty sound to her - at least more sound than the slaughterfest that the incompetents in charge of the castrian army sent them into yesterday - and she quietly - or as quiet as someone clad in full plate armor can be - stood up and moved to join the group that was headed to see Lord Randel.

Sneaking around was never something she was good at, so the supply run was out of the question.

Edited by Kopfjager, 20 December 2011 - 09:34 PM.

[ReformBlade]

Watching the others jump on the first task left Angeline little choice in her mind. Someone has to do it, I suppose... why not me? "The way I see it it'd be ridiculous to send any more over to gather some manpower, so I'll volunteer for a supply run..." Simply stating her stance was enough. It's not like anyone would actually argue with her, and if they did, she wouldn't care. There were more important things at stake here than the opinion of a random stranger. Either way, Angeline took a seat and simply waited. There was a twinge of fear that she'd be the only one getting supplies, but that was simply paranoia kicking in. She looked from person to person, wondering just how much she could rely on them. Only one I can truly rely on is Raguni. He's always been there for me. Stood by me when I struggled, stood by me in my victories.

[Ether]

As the armoured woman clanked her way over to the group headed to coerce Lord Randel, Leonhard gave her a quick look over. She seemed quite overly beat up, her armour dented and dinged, and scars adorning her face. Giving a slight smirk, Leonhard walked over to where she placed herself.

"You seem to be one who understands what I mean, no? I can tell from the way you carry yourself, you take pride in the badges of honour shown by that armour. Each is a fight you have fought with your all, and survived." Leonhard said to the woman with a hearty laugh, giving her a rough, yet friendly pat on the back.

"Still, it looks like quite a few of those are fresh. Were you one of the few others I saw cleaving their way out after the masses had fled?"

[Kopfjager]

"Not like there was much choice to be had.." Shayna replied, her lips forming a slight smile. A defeat was a defeat, and while it makes no difference to those that persecute them, it made a difference to her that she stayed and fought till she could no longer do so. "Either had to bash my way out, or end up a corpse."

"Yet I disagree with what you said. They are not badges of honor. They are lessons learned, and paid for. In blood and lives." She then gestured to the bandage covering her right eye. "Some just happen to be more expensive than others."

[Furetchen]

"Save the small talk for later," says Chisford, rising from his seat. "That marks seven of you going to meet with Randel. The knight, Alfred Oldenfeld or however you styled yourself, shall serve as leader, for now. Randel will expect the lordling to take command, and so it shall be.

"The rest of you are to go on the supply runs. Avoid violence if possible, but if it's that or your lives, or more importantly the supplies, then don't hesitate to kill them before they call for help.

"Both of you have dangerous tasks ahead of you. The armoury is just outside, and I have Kris taking stock. Those of you without equipment, ask him for what you want, he'll hand it to you. If he gets snippish then I'll smash his bloody head in."

He looks at you for another moment, then nods, satisfied. You are dismissed.

Edited by Furetchen, 20 December 2011 - 11:48 PM.

[Ether]

"A lesson learned is a trial survived, however. Those scars, those injuries, they are marks left on you by the trials you have overcome as a warrior. The fact you survived to get those scars is what you take pride in. And you use the lessons they taught you to survive harsher trials, and defend the honour of those who stood along side you. but fell by the wayside." Leonhard said with fervor, defending his point.

"If it weren't for those scars, those lessons, could you call yourself the same warrior? Without them, you would be just as you were before even taking up your mace. To have those scars is the proof that you have lived in the heat of battle and emerged the victor. So even if you do not think of them as such, they are still badges of honour." Leonhard finished with a smile.

[eclipse]

Selina blinked several times. Her vision was still blurry. She honestly didn't care where she went, as long as she could help others.

The conversation sounds interesting, but I can't quite see straight yet. Best to wait a little longer, and hope I get my vision back. Teacher said this stuff was supposed to mess with the opponent's eyes for a week. My drops were meant to prevent the worst of it, but even the guys I tested it on said that they had problems seeing for a few days. Nothing to do but wait.

[Kopfjager]

"It would seem that we agree to disagree then." Shayna said with a smile of her own. "Regardless, it is pleasant to have people who knows what they're doing around."

"My name is Shayna." She said, extending her hand for a shake.

[Defeatist Elitist]

"You heard the man, let's move along. We won't accomplish anything standing around," says Alfred, heading out of the tent.

[Furetchen]

Kerrard gave a quick, slouching salute, and was utterly ignored by Chisford, who was staring intently at the map on the table. Bastard. Well, it looked like he'd managed to join the safer route, and that was good enough to overcome his apprehension over his comrades.

He picked a good, solid battle-axe from the quartermaster, who proved reluctant to give steel to a foreigner. As for his bow... that he kept, trusting to Petrarchan yew, and his ringmail hauberk. He didn't intend to be parted with either until his death day.