Tales from The Wart

[Phantom Lamb]

The refugee camp at Mirakus Post has taken on some permanence at the military base. A rough mess hall has been constructed in the midst of the tent city with the funds and efforts of the Triumvirate. Wooden outhouses line up along the outskirts of the town where there once was only pits. Even the tents themselves have aligned into rows, forming "alleys" and "streets" in the grass and mud.

This city of canvas bulging from the side of the Post's wooden fencing has taken on the name of The Wart. Many of the refugees here have conceded that Sestra is lost. Hope is a rare commodity, but the spirit of survival endures.

More and more of the volunteer Corsair militia are turning in their blades, deserting the people when they are needed most. The militia has fallen out of favor of the people through acts of theft, blackmail, and bullying. A few rotten apples have spoiled the bunch. The Corsairs who quit are citing all manner of reasons for their desertion: shame for the actions of their comrads, anger at the townsfolk, disdain for the Legion, and personal safety. No matter the reason, they leave a void in security at The Wart.

The Legion has made its presence at the Post known. A squad of roughly one hundred men has bolstered the patrol there, but their efforts are limited mostly inside the walls of Mirakus.

Many experienced fighters are quick to note how "green" these new soldiers are at Mirakus. They follow orders to a T, but show idealistic, genuine concern for the refugees--the marks of young men out to change the world, but not wise enough to know how the world really works.

Oddly, these soldiers are not young. They are mostly middle-aged, showing battle scars, haggard skin, and other indications of a harsh life. The squad has a high number of humans, half-orcs and hins. They speak like urchins but act like saints.

(( Want to make up your own story here? We don't mind a little god-modding here--just keep it within reason. Be creative and we'll try to incorporate it and reward you for the effort ))

[Fezzik]

Cybil roams the tents, seeking those still willing and able to fight for their future. She continues to tell the remaining corsairs that it will still be their responsibility to hold the town once it is taken back... and it will be taken back. The people, their families, their children, will have their homes again. Sestra has suffered through hardships before, but it will not fail as long as everyone works together. She tries to bridge the gap between the Corsairs and the people; the people and the Legion; and the legion and the remaining corsairs.

The fighting men on both sides have fought for the return of the people to their homes, she continues. The people will return their soon enough. She encourages the saintly old battle hardened veterans to venture out every once in a while while off duty to see who they are fighting for. The woman, children, and the disheartened men. She encourages them to make amend for certain members of the legion that spoke without compassion or caring as to what the Corsairs have been through.

She also encourages those of the Triumvirate that can spend time there, especially the Tyrans, to help mediate the void of security, as well as any helmites she can muster out of the City. The people of Sestra, the Wart, have to know that they are cared for, that they are not abandoned, and that they will have a home again soon.

Cybil also pays close attention to any children left without families, since they will need the most supervision and help during these troubled times. Foster families in the Wart, and without, are sought, until such time as they can stand on their own, or they have a safe place to call their own until they are grown.

[TamurtheLame]

Dalrion moves silently and quickly through the dense undergrowth that had once been the streets of Sestra. He keeps to the deepest shadows and nothing is left behind to mark his passing. He has a sense of the dangerous areas and can see from the many paths that have been beaten into the tall grass where the enemy lies; therefore, he is very careful to skirt those areas.

However, he has been successful in scouting portions of Sestra and he has made a crude sketch of the area and possible or probable enemy strong points and travelled paths/areas.

Dalrion takes one last look behind him and then slips past the guards posted at the outskirts and enters Mirakus.

Dalrion is assailed at once by the odor of humans! He still cannot believe that humans or any sentient beings would live like this. As he glides through the outskirts of the camp, he thinks of his own people and how they lived with less, but lived much better in the deep woods. As he glides forward, toward one of the guard posts, Dalrion unconsciously skirts a puddle of urine and continues his movements.

"Excuse me," Dalrion says to the guard in front of the Mirakus post. "I have some information you may be interested in. I have sketched a map of enemy strongpoints and the paths they have made through the tall grass, you may want this, or may not, but it is yours." With that, Dalrion turns to go and again moves through the encampment, almost holding his breath as he walks quickly towards the gates.

As Dalrion moves, he looks down to see two hollow eyed children, a boy and girl. They are human and very dirty, with a reek of garbage and urine. Dalrion wrinkles his nose and starts to step around them, but pauses.

*I remember a time, when my sister and I had been abandoned - well, not of our parents volition, but because of the necromancer and his undead horde that had killed almost everyone in their tree village. I don't think we were as bedragled or smelly, but we were sure starving until I could get my bow working again.*

A flood of memories, some horrific, some grim, some wistful, passes through his mind as Dalrion looks down on the children. With a start, Dalrion comes to himself, nods to the children, then leaves.

*On a dark moonless night, and every four nights thereafter, when the children and their parents awoke at dawn, they found three deer, already skinned and gutted, laid out in front of their tents.*


((To the DMs - I hope I am not God Moding with the scouting in Sestra. I have been there a number of times, even at lower levels than I am currently, and was never detected.))

[Peridan]

Peridan steps into the camp, his things in a sack slung over his shoulder. He takes a look around the campsite, his eye searching for the commander's tents. Sighting it, Peridan makes his way through the camp. People are about everywhere, lying in filth and mud.

An old man, his face lined with the cares of years past trips over a rock hidden in the smoke and haze of the camp. Peridan gracefully catches him before he eats dirt with one hand. He brushes the old man off makig usre he's unhurt.

"Watch it there, old timer. Gotta be more careful these days." He sets him straight and continues to make his way towards the tents, single minded in his mission. He salutes to the guards at the tent, displaying the Legion brand on his arm.

"Here to see the Centurio in charge. I've made a formal request to be temporarily transferred here to contribute my talents to the situation. Immunes Peridan twilight, reporting for duty."

[Product of Void]

*shiv rubs his chin and looks over the pathetic town*

"tis misery..tis profit...let em priest sell hope...I 'ave other wares ta peddle".

Using the disguise spell he wanders the town trying to get a jest of who is in charge and who is in trouble. He starts in drag mingling with wash women listening to gossip. Sliping the skirt he then just tries to dress like locals going by the alias of "Bill". Once finding a fellow who looks street wise and alone he aproaches.

"kind sir you look thirsty 'haps an ale? never like ta drink alone "

*hands him a bottle and gets closer, though shiv's bottle is full of mostly water*

After an odd look from the fellow, shiv waits until the man has enjoyed a bit of the drink.

"Tis more then ale I can aquire...anything ya need? Tis only two questions ta ask, what an how much? anything else makes business....tedious"

*grins*

[Redjack]

A shadowy figure seeks out the disgraced Corsair militiamen in back alleys and taverns. He offers wine and coin and what the men need most, a ear to listen to their story. The dark clad figure offers kind words of sympathy and understanding for their plight.
In the taverns as the man calls to wenches to clear the empty cups and bring more drink, he leans forward and nods in agreement with militiamen. Yes they did their best, no it was never their fault, yes they were betrayed by the people they were trying to protect. As the nights stretch into early morning hours and the angry rants fade to slurred curses, the man leans back and waves a hand as he whispers words of power. The militiamen fall silent as the man leans forward and speaks softly to them. Then the man pushs coins across the table to the broken ones and stands up to leave. Somtimes the men remain seated, and at other times the men follow into the night.

[joker]

During the night, Corvus sneaks into Mirakus Post, avoiding all of the "green" Legion patrols. He sneaks around until he finds one of the remaining Corsairs. Being carefull not to reveal his face, Corvus asks the man, "Are the Corsairs truely giving up?" The Corsair stares at Corvus for a moment, before replying, "Seems most of them do not believe Sestra can be retaken. Those that do believe it can be saved, are in need of new weapons, armor and maybe some training." Corvus thinks on this for a moment.
Then he replies, "Well, maybe I could convince the organization I represent to provide you with some weapons, armor and maybe even some new recruits." The Corsair then says, "Even if Sestra is retaken, the Legion will not stay to help protect it. That is why we are in this mess." "I never said that I represented the Legion. I will let you think on this. I will return in a night or two. If you want the help, I will see what can be arranged."

Corvus then moves towards the nearest alley and vanishes into the shadows.

[Doubtful]

((May contain swearing, if it's a major issue poke me and I'll amend))

“Why'd I hand in my sword? None of your fucking business mate...”

Near the outer edge of the wart another of the corsairs prepares to break camp, his battered armour may have once held the emblems of the corsair militia but almost all of these have been stripped away, some by battle, some deliberately. The addition of a crude sacking hood to the armour masks the man's face.

“Fine, if you insist. But you just shut up and sit down, sooner I'm out of this fucking boil the better, just make sure you keep that fire glowing and that rabbit turning.”

“Let me tell you about the last time I saw Sestra; eight of us went it, trying to find some piece of art for the Gosburghs, they'd paid a fair amount for it from some travelling bard, portrait of them and their kids, gods rest their souls. Poor Emma ain't barely slept a whole night since they got here, can still hear those sounds.”

The ex-corsair sighs, rolling up his bed-roll with somewhat excessive aggression.

“Make yourself useful, there's coffee in the that jar there and that pot's got warm water in. Do us both a cup.”

“Well, something snapped in Emma, got herself right worked up, said she couldn't remember what her kids looked like, couldn't see their faces but could still hear their screams. Rich came and saw us, offered us everything he and his wife had both here and back in Sestra if we could get that painting, he figured maybe if she could see the kids faces again it might get the sounds out of her head as well.”

“Five of us went in, seemed pointless to take more. We wanted to be in and out quick, we were there to get one object, not retake the town. Went fairly well to, got in, got the painting.. Didn't do so well at getting out.”

“Olson was the first man to fall, one of them dog lizards got him, split his gut open before he'd got his shield up.. We beat that dog-thing down and tried to get him to saftey but another one hit him, bastard creature just grabbed a mouthful of the loops sticking out of his gut and ran, poor Olsen and us hanging on to the other end of those guts for grim death. I ain't never heard a man make the noises Olsen did then, and I never want to again.”

“Perterson broke, ran for exit as fast as he could, course panic hit the rest of us then.. I ain't proud to say I ran, but it's how I'm here today. “

“Jackson took it in the spine, saw him go down with a hole bigger than your head torched through his back, Albright.. never saw what happened to him, but a patrol found him couple of days later outside of town. They were surprised as hell he'd managed to crawl that far with nothing but tatters from the belly down.”

“Rest of us made it, mostly.. Peterson lost an arm and I, well, never was going to win a beauty pageant but I'd never been called a monster before. Still, Skullboy's not bad as nicknames go.”

“Trouble was Jackson had been carrying that painting.. Wasn't long before Emma passed away, can't rightly say if she did it or her husband.. But state she was in I ain't going to press to find out. She's in a better place now than she was.”

“But the people didn't care.. Another failure is how they saw it, we'd thrown down lives to try and help folks and we get beaten down more when we don't succeed.”

“I ask you, how many of these fucking refugees you seen picking up a blade and trying to help? None. And no help from the Legion either, they just fucked right off home to look after themselves, even now the cowardly fucks spend more time behind the wall than they do out here in the Wart. “

“The one time we had a chance to take it back to those snakeskin bastards and teach em what happens to those that fuck with Sestra what happens?”

“That one-eyed Legion shit-smear of an elf tells us to fuck off.. “

“Well, Legion and this bunch deserve each other I reckon, a bunch of ingrates and a bunch of wankers. They'll get on like a house on fire.”

“I've seen to many of my men, my boys, get hacked to shit for less than a word of thanks, worse we get called thieves, bandits, whateverthefuck.. I've had it.”

With a grunt the ex-corsair shoulders his pack, takes the rabbit from the spit and pours himself a coffee for the journey, the brief flickering of the firelight shows a ruined face not normally seen on creatures outside of the Necropolis. With his last words he heads down the road and away from Sestra.

“Fuck them, fuck you.”

[Lanemeyer]

The Red Blade Adept walked through the guild hall in Mirakus, she was praying for the Red Lady to bless her brothers and sisters on the creation of new plans. The Red Blades were going and coming all the time carrying on their duties, however, she saw two of the Initiate ones who were new on the ranks with nothing to do. She stepped in front of them and gave them a sharp look, inspecting their posture and their gear. Didn’t take long, and the two of them were standing all disciplined in front of her, once she was not only a higher rank, but also a paladin in service of the Red Knight.

“Initiate Josh reporting for duty, ma’am!”

“Initiate Billy, at your service, Lady Majer!”

Both of them saluted Andy as she returned the salute.

“ Billy, go get the Initiate Raven in his room. Josh, wait with me outside, we are going to patrol The Wart and make sure the folks are safe.” She spoke firmly.

“Aye!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

[Fezzik]

conversations

Cybil approaches the Corsairs at Mirakus post, they seem disheartened, so she approaches them.

"Have faith gentlemen... you'll get what you've fought for soon." She smiled warmly and waited... the leader spoke up.

"Faith? How do you expect me to have faith when... " Cybil heard a man behind her approaching. Raven, of the Red Blades. She kept her eyes on the man in front of her.

"When your town lays in the hands of the enemy? When your people seemingly turn away from you? When the Legion seemingly let you down?" Cybil asked the questions, with compassion, letting the men know that their plight was known.

One spoke up from the back. "Hey, I remember her! She was one of the three that helped us evacuate!" Cybil smiled quietly but listened to the man in the lead.

"Let us down? Damn right they did... ya all did. Sure, I appreciate what some of you did, ya tried your best, but the legion coulda done better, right boys" He looked at the others and they nodded.

"We didn't know what was happening until it was to late, not that that does you much for comfort. Are you willing to help get your homes back... when the time comes again? To work with the Legion? To work with those that want to help you?"

"I would like to try, but it aint up to me."

Raven put in his two staggs. "Get up off your butts, stop complaining, and train!"

"Don't tell us what to do!" The man responded, then looked back at Cybil.

"In a way it is up to you. Everyone will be needed. The fight will be hard, but the Corsairs are the ones that will hold the town, for your families, loved ones, and your friends that have fallen.. You need to work with the people, the people you love, and care fore... the reason you joined the Corsairs was for Sestra, and it's people. For your safety. They need you now more than ever. They need examples to follow."

"Don you think we all know that... we all want to go back there and beat them lizards senseless, but we aint strong enough, and we aren't anyone special... this ain't up to us to decide, we just do what we are told... and even then... we just end up sitting on our asses all day and twiddling our thumbs while some gits who called themselves corsiars run around and make a mess of things."

"Are you willing to be an example of good, in their place - those who have sullied the name? This is what the people need you to be. You have to be ready, for them, for yourselves, and to prove that the lives lost were not in vain."

Raven spoke again, "Just hang on and train as if your life depends on that sir. The day will come, and the battle will be most exciting."

"Bah! Things aint that easy... but I guess... we could train a bit harder, if it means we get peoples hopes up to see some of us are worth a stagg or two."

Cybil slowly smiled and nodded. "I will ask more Tormites to help you, as well as the Red Blades" She looked back at Raven for his response.

"I'm sure the boys would love to help."

"You know the ground, it is your home, the place you love. Be hope, examples for others to look up to."

"Alright men! Ya heard them, get off your asses and lets get to work!" Some grumbled, but agreed, but most were boayed now. "I'm counting on what you said lass. We could always use help, especially from the greatest warriors in all of Sundren," he looked at Raven, "the Red Blades."

(( this was a dm/player converstion, not made up ))

[Espada]

A couple of Tormite paladins were dispatched by the Triumvirate to Mirakus Post after numerous requests from an Illmatari known as Cybil. However, Balthasar has made it clear that their mission is not a humanitarian one. Their sole purpose in Mirakus is to train the Corsairs, boost moral, and root out the bad apples.

Some of the Corsairs seem glad at the arrival of the paladins while others seem to be a bit disgruntled, but overall it has proven to be quite a boost for many of the refugees

And for now all seems well with the training, as indicated by the Tormites' reports.

[Thief Of Navarre]

Peligir walks up to an old man sporting a beard and a greying bedragled comb over, taking him by the bow hand and repositioning him gently as not to cause offense: "If you hold your bow like this your shot will be less easily distracted" he gestures.

The ranger smiles and laughs with the new recruit taking a hour or so explaining the 'point blank shot' to him and anyone interested enough to listen in.

[Fezzik]

Cybil continues to offer assistance to the people of the Wart. Helping them with sanitation needs, acquiring foodstuffs and helping the sick, infirm and elderly. She is often seen talking to ex-corsairs, mostly those that were disgruntled by the actions of their fellows encouraging them to go back and continue their fight with their friends, for they will be needed to keep Sestra secure for their families in the coming days.

[Lanemeyer]

The Red Blade Adept walks through The Wart, she stops in front of the Illmatari and gives her a slight smile.

"Greetings, Cybil. I know how this is important to you, and these people needs aid in so much. Anyway, I got some free time, so I came to help you. I will even help the Triumvirate paladins with the training thing."

[TheBrogueadier]

Cold Hands, Frozen Heart.

Shockingly even the Ice Fury Eira Skald can be seen on occasion lending her hand to the training and defence. She teaches an aggressive, but not reckless, style of fighting, encouraging the use of teams: spearmen for range and stabbing above and below shields combined with axe and swordsmen, the axes to hook and pull shields away from opponents to allow the spearmen to strike. The swordsman to deal with those who try to close quickly upon the spears.

She also takes time to encourage prayers to Auril, seeking out the disenchanted and encouraging a coldness of heart and the strength that can be gained from embracing an inner cold and furious anger.

To those not disenchanted she speaks of the beauty of the snows, and the essentialness of winter within the great cycle of life. To others the promise of a terrible and damaging winter that may devastated crops and freeze people within tents if Aurils wrath is not placated with prayer.

“This is the North, there is no place for those with cold blood here, those who need a hot stone and a muggy atmosphere merely to raise themselves from a slumber.

We must ensure they find no warmth here, no succour or rest. We have not yet the strength to battle in the open, so we must strike hard and fast at their hearts like a dagger of ice, then melt away.

How many attempts at peace were tried? How many times did you attempt to bargain with these cold-blooded monsters? Ten? Twenty? A Hundred?

And each time they broke their word, harried and attacked you, threatened your homes, killed your family or friends.. And now this! Making you suffer here amongst the filth while they breed and lounge in your homes..

There can be no quarter given to these foul monsters, no inch of mercy or clemency for they have shown you none. These snakes and lizards must be driven into the sea; scraped from our lands like the shit they are.

Put your faith in the fury of Auril, for the North is her land and she will not tolerate abominations such as these to thrive beneath her gaze. She will lend the fury and strength of an avalanche to the army that strikes against those creatures that hold Sestra."