The #Broken_Dagger Forum

They'd been there early, almost all of them; it was, in Councilor Guillaume's recollection, the first occasion on which this had ever occured. Why, even portly Gad had found a seat before he himself had arrived -- albeit one that creaked at his weight -- and there'd been some wondering at the platter of exotic fruits provided for their supping. The appearance of Duke Burel and his wife Lenore had explained this. But in any case, there were pleasantries all around, even on the parts of Lieutenants Kilborn and Duvall, for they as well as the Captain had been invited, before:

"Well, Governor, I guess we should begin here quite, quite soon. What is the first order of business?"
"Mm. There is this matter of the Baie; there's been little word of it recently, and I daresay an update from the good Captain would be judicious at this point. The recent massacre at Tivalti Estate -- quite a panic over that one, they say. Matter of children singing insolent songs about the town. The matter of the drow Audmathus, and also of the bloodied words scrawled on our own doors not a week ago -- have we a translation of them yet? And of course, a continuation of last week's hysteria, I don't doubt. And -- yes, I've reports of troops moving; the good Duke's, I'm sure."

And so it had begun: innocuously enough, to be certain, and to his amazement the troubling existance of the Baie had been almost immediately brushed aside; there was simply no news to report, the beast having been neither seen nor captured nor slain during the past week. It did not suit him quite as well as the Captain must have thought it might; a monster at large is a monster still, and such matters do little to comfort the hearts of merchanters already made to worry -- and already considering a move of their business to safer climes.

But so it was, and Tivalti Estate was their next -- and more pressing -- concern; to the surprise of some, surely, the Captain chose to have his Lieutenant report on this matter. And what an odd report it was: a backpack filled with vials of what Doctor D'Rael -- a Godsend, that one -- identified as a sleeping draught of some sort. It turned out to be a fortuitous visit, the Doctor being able to provide a good deal more than simple identification of potions...

"Apparently, the Tivalti Estate was being used to run a myriad of underground circles. I have since investigated this, to a degree, and found it to be true, thus far. There were cells in the basement of the estate, and they were holding kidnapped prisoners there. ... I have found no concrete proof of cells, however, only word of the kidnapees."
"Well, who are these people, and where are they at the present, sir?"
"I will second that, Gad. Who are they, and what is their condition?"
"There has been no opportunity to examine what remains of the premises, then?"

More questions. And more talk to follow, few answers featuring amongst it: word of mouth accounts, mention of the name 'Basso' -- a merchant-cum-slaver, evidently, and much like the Baie, still at large. Talk of lacking evidence, the need to excavate the premises, the imminent return of Lord Tivalti himself -- unsurprising, nobility being given to hasty decisions when their holdings are burned to the ground, after all. And of rescue attempts, the very notion of which sounded like a good deal of exaggeration and fantasy to him. Perhaps they would next expect Taliaferro attendant, to play the role of the Charming Prince... But in any case, talk had soon moved to more mundane topics; it's here that Guillaume pauses to make note of the warrent for Basso's arrest, and the need to investigate a black market which, until now, had had sense enough to avoid the eye of the law.

"I am quite certain that, in the light of recent disastrous events, the township is more heavily patrolled than has been the case in the past; perhaps you can enlighten us upon this subject."
"The bulk of the Order was recalled from border patrols. ... Thessilane and New Dauntless have more mounted riders than we can put out, and more men. It seemed wiser to use their resources... For the most part, it has been successful. Is there a reason you ask?"
"Is not the safety of our citizens reason enough, Lt. Killborn?"
"I merely wondered, if the Council was seeking to overtake the scheduling of the guards..."
"The recent fire. The return of rumours regarding 'vampires' -- I believe that your own guards intercepted one of their victims? The scrawling of words upon our own Meetinghouse doors. I undertake no scheduling; rather, I inquire as to your undertakings in the matter."
"At present, there are seventy five men on the streets at all times, Councillor. Working to ensure the safety of the populace."
"I am commander of the patrols that keep an eye upon the forest surrounding Myrkentown, and the outlying hamlets, your Honors. We keep an eye out for forest-dwelling.. dangers...

Most satisfactory news, and they might have continued in this vein -- both pleasant and reassuring as it was -- had a man not at this point burst through the Meetinghouse's doors to engage in hushed conversation with the Duke and his wife; he'd had no trouble in passing the exterior Guard, and a single glance at him was enough to explain why: he was filthy, haggard, his eyes alight with urgency.

"Duke Burel? Is something amiss?"

Bah. Of course something was amiss; one needed only look at the small trio to know that. And in time:

[i]"Governor. Esteemed Councillors. I beg your pardon in this interruption, but it is an important one. I have just recieved word from an advanced scout. The Army of the Temurians has been attacked while attempting to enter the Province."

It may well be remembered in tomes of history, many years from now, that these were the words that changed everything.

"Attacked? Do we know by who, Duke? Do you have word of the state of the attack? Has the army successfully made it's way past the attackers?"
"The Horde?"
"The information that I have is minimal, Governor. But it was, indeed, the Horde. My scout was alerted to the sounds of battle...Roughly two thousand of the barbarians ambushed the Temurians. The scout did not stay for the entire battle...he felt it more important that we know it had happened.But as there were almost six thousand of the Temurians, I can only presume they were not totally mauled. Even if they were ambushed."
"They are sufficient to hold the border there, then, if they do not immediately move onwards. But how comes it that they strike there, without a single sight of their approach.."
"The Temurians were approaching from the south. It is entirely possible, even probable, the bulk of the Horde had slipped down through Amasynia proper into the Devil's ridge there. The other question, is why now?"
"Does anyone know about the progress of Prince Taliaferro's army? Are they close enough to help Duke Tassnehof defend Myrken and the Temurians?"

An abrupt flurry of words, it had been, not quite an uproar, but a din nonetheless, and only Burel's continued speech could have easily brought it to a halt; there lay more in wait, it seemed, than simply an offshoot of the Horde...

"At least one, though perhaps two.. Dragons, Governor. Black as the night. They ride with the Horde, apparently."
"Dragons.. are you certain?"
"Dragons? How, sir? How could a group of barbarians, err, make such allies?"
"Obviously, Gad, there is more to this horde of barbarians than we first thought."
"Perhaps whatever master they serve has brought these creatures to the fore."
"Well, Governor, does it make a blasted difference that we've had a red dragon wrapped 'round the Broken Dagger for the past few days?"
"Only if the red dragon doesn't like the black ones..."

Oh, very jovial, that -- and from Lieutenant Duvall, amazingly, who he'd never credited with any particular sense for humour. It was a pity that it showed itself at a time so particularly ill-suited to jests...

"As such, I am recalling all of my men. Today. I will have them march to aid the Temurians and hopefully bring them safely through."
"Do you have recommendations as to a course of action, Duke Burel?"
"Yes, sir. Recommendations. What does Myrken Wood have to do with barbarians and dragons?"
"More to the point: Duke Burel, have your men any experience with foes of such a fantastical sort? I would know precisely what chance we have."

There had followed a great many suggestions, and very few actual answers; what else would one expect from such a moment?

"What do I recomend? That you all prepare yourselves for what we know has been coming for months.... the construction of quick fortifications, a ditch, perhaps, and a spike-wall barracade to hold them back. The men and women of Thessilane have no experience fighting Dragons, sir, no. But are well trained and ordered. They will do their job, or they will die trying."
"Well trained...that should read well on the tombstones."
"A ditch won't mean a thing to flying lizards, sir."
"It would to their land-bound allies."
"Do any of the armies have spellcasters among their ranks?"
"There are few within the my army, Sir. But there is still the Kingdom of Ruann. Perhaps we could entreat them for aid."
"Governor, a proposal: we will require mages...I am inclined to believe that a goodly number of them can be found within our own borders. Their services will be required, should these... 'dragons'... come upon us."
"And what of the inquisition, Councilor? How will we protect the mages from the Church?"
"If the dragons cannot be killed Governor, there will not only be no mages, but also, no Church to hunt them."
"If what mages we find are even willing, but given the choice between this or a personal introduction to Lord High Inquisitor Gestahl..."


Which notion had certainly not met with the good-hearted Governor's tastes; it had been shelved, and rather new proclamation: that the willing would be sought out and, more, fully informed of their foe's true nature. At which point an unexpected intruder -- that Saviour fellow; Guillaume recognised him by the hair and the height -- asked if they wished his services (bloody Matyr, in his opinion, but who'd turn him down for that?), and an utter stranger had forced his way inside, by dint of enough commotion to draw the Govenor's attention. A second had soon followed, but this was more a familiar face: Ariel O'Cynen, Joseph's own daughter, come with news of an accident and the intention of sitting as proxy for the man -- none, unsurprisingly, had questioned this. In the process, of course, doors had been opened, words had been spoken quite heatedly -- and Guillaume had no doubt that before sunfall, 'barbarians and dragons' would be the talk of the town.

But in any case, there was this stranger to contend with, who arrived with neither recommendation nor introduction, and proceeded without hesitation to browbeat the entire blasted lot of them -- the Duke included. Evidently the man was not a politician...

"You all are sacrificing your men needlessly. ... We need time to muster a large enough force...they have the advantage of pure numbers, training and strength."

....nor a bearer of good tidings.

"Weaken them. Send our own raiding parties to attack intermittantly. Dig traps to maim and wound the enemy, make them waste resources on them. Break morale. Hurt them and weaken their spirit so when that our armies are ready, we can crush them properly!"

But he was certainly relentless...

"Sir? You have, perhaps, forgotten that this enemy will not be hampered by wounded and dead? They eat the bodies of the dead."
"You seem quite convinced that this strategy will work, Ser Heldenbrand. I must ask why this council, should heed this advice."
"I would suggest that you discuss such things with the Commanders of the various armies, not the Council of Myrken Wood."
"Who are you?"

....if not quite well-received. His suggestion that the townsfolk themselves be employed to strategic use, set to trapping the forests that they knew with the intimacy of decades' experience, was at first misunderstood --

"If we allow ourselves to be forced to conflict on their terms we shall be risking much more than just our armies, but our entire lands. Draw them about, harass them. Weaken and allow ourselves to strengthen."
"Would you have the population of Myrkentown rush to the forefront to combat this army? I don't see how that's a viable idea."
"To set them upon a battlefield would be murder, man, and I will not countenance it."
"Thank you, Giscard. The people here are hardly trained at such."

-- and then clarified, by the entrance of yet another latecomer: none less than Alexander Kanashia himself, once-Captain, once-Governor, and now? Self-styled advisor, evidently.

"If you all don't, then you might lose Myrken."
"I will never put them upon the battlefield, rather but use those snares to break legs, take off ankles and otherwise maim."
"And when some huge, blasted dragon descends upon them and blows it all to smither-bloody-reens, what do we have then? Oh, a lake, I dare say, where people once stood; shall we name it in your honour?"
"By the time those dragons can even come close to those men, they will have faded into the wood. Attack and move, lure them into the depths -- "
"Then use the bloody soldiers from the bloody armies, use the guardsmen, use Thessilane's army, use New Dauntless's army, use the Temurian army, but for the love of GOD, don't use the peasants--"
"But these so called peasants have lived in these woods about demonic hordes, vampires and other assorted trash. And survived. "
"Survived? Great Bollocking GODS, man, we've had over a hundred dead in these last two months! Over a hundred!They're not surviving; they're dropping like bloody flies!"

At which point matters had become somewhat heated, and had continued that way for a time; records will show clearly to future generations that ex-Governor Kanashia had indeed collared Lieutenant Duvall, and that the good Lieutenant had indeed directed a lewd gesture towards him while bidding the man a miserable day. They will also, however, show that the daugher of Joseph O'Cynen had vouched for both the courage and the ableness of Myrken Wood's townfolk, in the face of so considerable a threat -- and that she had been heeded by the Council as a whole; it was a good, old name, was O'Cynen. It was synonymous with all the old wisdom held by the earth itself. Of course they'd listened. the offer was accepted, the proposal with it, with even Duke Burel himself vowing the protection of his own armed men to what townsfolk would have a part in this; oh, it might have ended very well indeed, if not interrupted by the dull flap of disturbed air overhead, and the first cry of:

"Dragon!"

They had scattered, the Governor set atop horseback by his grim-faced guard, the Guard itself summoned into action, and horses located for such Councilors as were in need of it; in the distance, church bells had rung to call townsfolk to the safety of stone walls and tiled roofs, and all the while there wheeled the black shapes overhead, they with their glistening scales and stink of acid corruption.

The Horde, evidently, was no longer content with ambushes.

Patience, was not a virtue that Kilborn had in his repetoire these days. Too many things required immediate attention and immediate results. Dragons recently, had caused enough chaos in the townsfolk, and even amongst the guard, who were as a whole, unprepared to even consider fighting, or facing such a beast. And that was if they were solitarily gathered, let alone five swooping in at once.

It was upon his return ot the barracks, with the Captain mounted behind him that he could determine those who would be well suited to maintaining their cool under such a circumstance. Not surprisingly, the number was few. Despite certain claims, the populace wasn't exactly prepared for such calamity. There were sufficient to man a few Ballista though, and that was important. The two that were owned by the guard, were ordered to be reassembled and prepared for use. a small squadron of men was assigned to actually search out if they could commission the preperation for more of the devices in the near future. Hopefully there were still a few blacksmiths and metalworkers in town.

In the meanwhile, a more important detail required his attention. Troop movement. Which meant rescheduling the guards, and assigning them to new positions and regions in the near future. Most of them had their assignments already, and were merely waiting for the word to pack up their stuff and move off to settle in. The problem that invoked, was that with over half the Order of Straka sent out to mind the affairs of the armies, it left a small hole as to how well the town was to be patrolled. No doubt Burel's flight was being recalled as well, leaving him with a mere hundred men inside Myrken town.

Which meant, that it was time to call in the Militia. About a tenth of the population was a part of this effort, whose primary purpose served as fire brigade, and other disaster related events. However they'd received some basic training, and would likely be the town's last line of defense. All two hundred of them. Two guardsmen, and three militia members would be what made up patrols of the region from thsi point onwards.

Orders were drafted and set up, before they were sent out. Everything would be looked after in short order. Maybe he even had time for a nap. No. Probably was about to get an invitation to another bloody council meeting. Stupid politicians.