Ashes to Ashes - A Mount&Blade: Warband RP

[josh900]

"So what are we doing? Could pick em off, run back, pick the next off." Rowan whispered to Cair as they watched the group while hidden behind the trees.

 

"Ooor... How's about we don't ruin the reunion that's going on there and let this one slide eh? We'll grab what they leave behind, might find enough coin to buy back what's lost anyways." Cair explained as he drew away and started to walk back to their camp.

 

"Gratitude doesn't put food in our bellies ya know, we need coin for that, and we ain't gonna get much if we keep buying stuff for other people ya know." Rowan said as he followed Cair.

 

"You never know, we might get ourselves a hero's welcome when we return with the town's goods, might even throw us a feast ya know?"

 

"And if all they do is shake our hands and send us on our way?"

 

"We'll figure something out, don't you worry." Cair said cheerfully, hoping to keep Rowan's spirits up in an attempt to keep him from doing anything stupid.

[Flipout6]

"Well then." Cameron shrugged as he took a look around the camp and slipped his blade back into its sheath. "We've done some modest cleaning out of the trough that is the scum of humanity, we've a bounty to collect, and our local Vaegir gets his family reunion." He cracked his neck. "A productive day, though the jury's still out on whether or not it was a profitable day."

 

He hopped up on Aristide's back. "Perhaps some of our profits, however scant, might go towards donning this...Emina, was it? Yes, donning Emina in a more modest choice of attire, if only for proper first impressions."

[AurianaValoria1]

Bellatrix watched as Komolov tried to mount the horse, but to no avail. She resisted the urge to laugh, and instead put her foot into the stirrup of the other gelding's saddle, swinging herself up into the seat with ease. As soon as everyone was secure and ready to go, she kicked her heels into the horse's flanks, beginning to lead the way back to Dhirim. With any luck, they would be able to obtain their reward there and spend the rest of the following day in well-deserved relaxation.

 

===========================================

 

Even after hours of travel, dawn breaking over the land, Bellatrix had yet to get used to the gimpy gait of her “new” steed. The gelding limped along – most likely one of its legs lamed by an unfortunate encounter, perhaps with the very bandits they had slain. Still, it was better than walking in the muddy roadway, the grey, overcast clouds threatening to drizzle rain at any moment and add to the squelching wetness of the path ahead.

 

When the road straightened and the treeline receded somewhat, a cluster of figures could be seen ahead of them, coming towards them at a walking pace. As the two parties came closer, it was apparent that the group ahead of them was a small army, at least sixty men strong. A standard bearer bore the arms of the party leader upon a banner: quartered with alternating forest green and navy blue quadrants, divided by a golden cross. The blue quadrants bore black diagonal stripes, while the green ones sported black rampant lions.

 

“Now there’s arms I haven’t seen before,” Bellatrix remarked, “Certainly not around these parts. Those aren’t Duke Klargus’s, I know that much.”

 

"Mirchaud's colours." Cameron noted. "Likely the Baron himself, though I don't know what he'd be doing out here. I doubt his intent is hostile, but it's prudent to remain wary." He looked at Bellatrix. "This one has a reputation for being fair and level-headed, but his reputation is all I know him by. Still, were any of Swadia's nobility to recognize you for more than the presence of your breasts, I believe he would be one of the more likely candidates."

 

The sword sister smirked, nodded, and kept her mount at its ambling speed, not wanting the approaching party to deem the comrades afraid or hostile themselves. Once the figures became easier to make out, it seemed they were indeed being led by a noble lord…apparent at least from the way he carried himself. His armor and weapons were well-maintained but not gaudy – a simple mail hauberk with a crimson tabard, an open-faced, flat-topped helm and coif, with a greatsword strapped to his back. One chain-mitted hand managed his reins while the other rested upon his leg. His horse was a tall and sleek black destrier, a compromise between swiftness and raw strength.

 

"Appears it's the Baron indeed." Cameron muttered. "This will be...amusing to witness."

 

“Probably,” Bellatrix sighed.

 

At that moment, the lord seemed to fixate on her with an almost questioning look, as if debating whether or not she was the leader of the party. Then, a good distance still between them, he held up his hand to halt his men behind him. Once they all came to a rattling standstill, he spurred his horse forward to meet her. Bellatrix mimicked his gesture to indicate they, too, were to stop, and she pulled her gelding to an abrupt halt.

 

She watched the lord carefully as he approached and reined in his snorting steed. He seemed relatively young, perhaps no older than she. His eyes were dark, nearly black, and judging from the shadow on his clean-shaven jaw, he was dark-headed as well. His complexion was on the pale side, and his expression was a bit stern, but the slight roundness of his face softened it somewhat. Upon drawing near, he gave her a curious smile as he glanced to her tabard and then back to her face.

 

“I do not recognize your arms. You must be a stranger to Calradia,” he began, his address startlingly more polite in tone than she had expected, “What do you call yourself, if I may ask?”

 

She took a deep breath, “I am Bellatrix de l’Aeryngton, sir. Mercenary and adventurer, at your service.”

 

He nodded, “And I am Baron Mirchaud of the Kingdom of Swadia, lord of Ushkuru, Amere, and Yalibe.” The baron looked her up and down and gave her a wider smile, “If I may say so, my lady, your beauty and grace is in no way inhibited by arms and armor. Truly, you add a touch of humanity to the trappings of war.”

 

Bellatrix could feel her cheeks redden, and she reflexively responded, “And you, I daresay, add a touch of humanity to your horse’s harness…but just a touch.”

 

She must have said it louder than she intended, for there was a collection of soft oohs coming from the direction of Mirchaud’s army.

 

"Well, that's always a good way to open communications." Cameron whistled, smirking.

 

Internally, Bellatrix winced, for she knew she probably should not have been so brash, but it was too late to take back the words, now. Mirchaud half turned in his saddle upon hearing his men, and the smile on his face turned into a grin as a deep chuckle came from his throat. He turned back, eyes fixed on her face as he replied, “You’ve a quick tongue, my lady. And, if that is any indicator, a quick wit, too. That should serve you well in these lands.”

 

He then glanced to Cameron and squinted at the knight’s shield before adding in a bit louder tone, “Cameron Haringoth? I had wondered where you had disappeared to…so does your father, for that matter. This is where you have found yourself, then?”

 

Cameron almost batted an eye at being identified as the correct Haringoth, but instead he nodded. "That it is, Baron. Though I must admit, it's almost troubling to have a reputation for having ‘disappeared’ when I still adorn myself in Haringoth colours."

 

Mirchaud smirked, “I have no doubt that reputation will not last long. It is you we’re talking about.” He then returned his attention to Bellatrix, “You could do much worse than having Sir Cameron in your company, my lady. Much, much worse,” he glanced back to Cameron with a knowing smile, and then added, “I do think I shall be hearing both your names more in the future. I shall be keeping an ear out, in any case.”

 

Cameron shifted in his saddle imperceptibly. He had a rather estranged relationship with his reputation, and to hear that there were indeed some positive things others had heard of him was...surprising. He nodded at Baron Mirchaud in thanks.

 

The baron’s gaze then fell on Bellatrix’s hands, from which she had removed her chain gloves. Slipping his own free hand from his mitt, he sidled his horse closer to her, their knees almost touching, and held out his hand, palm upwards, “Well, then, my lady. I must be going. But allow me to give you a proper Swadian farewell before I do.”

 

She was a bit unsure what he meant for a moment, then hesitantly put her hand in his. He then brought it up to his lips and kissed her knuckles briefly before letting it go, “Good journeys to you, Lady Bellatrix. I am certain this will not be the last time we meet, if fortune favors you.”

 

“And to you,” Bellatrix answered after he had already spurred his horse onwards and motioned for his men to follow. She was silent as the soldiers filed by - one of them wolf-whistling at Emina as they did so - and only after they were long past did she speak again, this time to Cameron.

 

“What….was that?”

 

"Some proper Swadian courtesy." He answered simply. "Nothing like the sneer you'd get from the men in my own family."

 

She grinned, “I could get used to this.”

 

"I wouldn't." He cautioned. "Not many in this world who are fair to a fighting woman, to say the least."

 

Bellatrix sighed heavily, “You’re right, of course. But a girl can dream, can’t she?” She winked.

 

He raised an eyebrow at her from beneath his helmet. "That does not restrict proper mannerisms solely to the realm of dreams, you realize. Perhaps Mirchaud lays on the metaphorical honey more than I, but we both treat you with respect."

 

She nodded, “Aye…and I am nothing short of thankful for it. It’s like a breath of fresh air.”

 

"And you are one for us as well." He frowned a bit, noting his addressing both himself and Mirchaud as one with some confusion. "Though I suspect the reasoning is far more complicated than what words would make apparent."

 

Her brow furrowed as she kicked her heels into the flanks of her horse, wondering why on earth she would be refreshing for the male nobility of the land, “It must be…for I have never heard such words come from anyone before.”

 

"I suspect it has something to do with a man being insecure of himself if his spouse is his better." He muttered, and then urged Aristide into a walk as well.

 

She snorted, “Seems there’s more than enough insecurity to go around these days.”

 

"Of various types, indeed."

 

After a few minutes, she asked, “So, indulge me…what is it about a strong-willed woman that disarms a man, so?”

 

"Besides the various methods in which she could literally disarm or de-arm a man?" He asked. "It's certainly something to see a woman with the kind of courage it takes to break her chains. Particularly when the domineering apes we call our rightful rulers would insist on beating you down for having the gall to prove yourself worthier than them. They would do that to the men, too, however." He shrugged. "But coming from a woman, who's expected to be a sniveling, submissive carpet of a person makes it all the more amusing. With more like you around, perhaps you might even succeed in challenging some of those primitive viewpoints."

[Macman253]

Bjorn remained silent as they traveled, his hand clutched his side. The bleeding had slowed extensively so long as he kept the makeshift bandage from his blanket tied tight around his ribs, often changing it while they rode.

 

When they came across the Swadian noble, Bjorn swung wide of the Swadians view, one Swadian is all he could tolerate, sixty plus the ego of the noble was more then the injured Nord could stand. As Bellatrix and the noble exchanged pleasantries Bjorn watched the horizon, seeing an eagle perched on a branch not far away. He looked about to see if others were watching him, then he broke out a large flat folder of parchment and opened it up. He took a piece of charcoal and began sketching the bird, the book was filled with similar sketches of birds from foreign and domestic lands, it was obviously the Nords preferred hobby and a well practiced hand at it.

 

As they began to break from their conversation Bjorn tucked his sketchpad away and wheeled his horse around. "We should continue... avoid any further patrols." He said to Bellatrix as he rode by.

[FreemasonGamer]

If it wasn't for his mud-splattered appearance, Komolov's flushed facial features would have been clearly evident to his fellow companions as he untangled himself and rose to his feet before the dreadful attempt at climbing onto his horse's saddle. Despite the slight humiliation regarding the Vaegir's failure to mount a steed, he sighed quietly in relief when his sister Emina demonstrated how to properly sit upon the horse; her insight in the art was invaluable to him and enough to help Komolov regain his confidence. Wiping what muck he could off of himself, he carefully climbed onto the back of their steed, frequently referring to Emina's assistance. Thankfully, Komolov soon sat upon the steed behind his sister, who took the reins. After sparing an almost apologetic glance to his comrades, the Vaegir inquired finally, "Shall we get moving?"

 

Once the group and their steeds departed from the ruins of the bandit encampment, Komolov resisted the uncertain urge to cling to his sister for stability whilst sitting upon the steed in motion. The Vaegir had come this far as to rally these various warriors against a camp of bandits and even save his sister Emina, so he was reluctant to let his determination waver simply because of his inexperience at riding. Although, the ride back to civilization proper would be a long and frankly uncomfortable one, and it would be a true test of endurance for Komolov...

 

~

By the time their party had crossed Mirchaud's battalion, Komolov was painfully familiar with the unforgiving nature of the saddle. His body was sore where is wasn't aching, aching where is wasn't sore, and fatigued to the point where the Vaegir feared falling asleep and off the steed altogether as a result. Both partially because of and despite his disposition, Komolov welcomed the distraction of watching and listening as Bellatrix and the commander of the battalion exchanged words and customs; the mannerisms of Swadian nobility always amused Komolov to some degree, and Mirchaud's was no exception to that reality. However, what amusement Komolov found was quickly lost as the Swadian troops passed by them, more than a fair number of those soldiers eyeing his sister. When one such soldier had the gall to wolf-whistle at the sight of Emina, Komolov outright scowled until the battalion was well out of sight and earshot.

 

"That seemed to be too many men for a patrol," The Vaegir replied to Bjorn, "And I see little reason to actively avoid them anyhow. While they might be unsavory, at least they won't attack unless provoked..."

 

After a few moments of thoughtful consideration, Komolov added quietly underneath his breath, "I hope."

[AurianaValoria1]

When the walls of Dhirim finally came into view once more, Bellatrix nearly gave a shuddering sigh of relief. The ambling gait of her mount had been utter misery to put up with, and she longed to sell it in order to buy a new one. But first, they needed to present their findings to Duke Klargus...

 

"Get your...evidence...ready," Bellatrix remarked as they trotted through the city gates and headed towards the castle, "And be careful with it. I don't think the Duke would look kindly on us dripping bandit blood all over his floors." Once they approached the castle doors, she nodded to the guard on duty as she dismounted her snorting steed, "Is the Duke home?"

 

"Aye, milady," the sergeant inclined his head, "If you seek an audience, be courteous, as his grace's rank requires."

 

With that, he opened the door wide for them to enter.

 

It took a few moments for Bellatrix's eyes to adjust to the dimly lit interior, but once they did, she saw a simple stone hall with the Duke in attendance at the far end, seated upon his throne. Beside him, perched on a stool, was his wife, the Duchess Anna. Both were some of the most elderly nobility in the kingdom, and yet there was dignity and presence still in their figures; Klargus was not one to shy away from combat, even at his advanced age, as evidenced by his readiness to don his armor and personally lead his men into war.

[FreemasonGamer]

Komolov was grateful when the opportunity to dismount their steeds and leave them at the stables of Dhirim finally came, and his lacking proficiency for riding horses did not hinder him one bit as he almost gleefully hopped off of the black steed of his sister's. Stretching slightly, the Vaegir archer was both aching from unaccustomed time spent riding and relieved to be back on his feet again. Glancing to his comrades, he noticed some of them were also in similar spirits now that their quest of bandit-hunting had finally come to a close. As Bellatrix led their group deeper into the city towards the exceptionally marvelous stone keep of the resident Duke, Komolov took conscious note of his borderline filthy appearance; a layer of mud and the blood soaked into his clothes underneath had long since dried, and he also noticed that his odor was reminiscent of horse. Sighing, the Vaegir took a few minutes and broke away from the group, and he found an unoccupied barrel of water to wash his face and arms clean at the very least. Following the quick act of hygiene, the archer then quickened his pace to keep his comrades in sight.

 

~

 

In all brutal honesty, Dhirim's keep was less impressive when viewed from its interior in Komolov's opinion. While the keep was decorated with luxurious rugs, noble tapestries, mounted fixtures forged of polished metal, and similar additions that symbolized the highborn nature of the keep's residents, Komolov disliked its cramped and compact atmosphere. Regardless, Komolov maintained his respectful demeanor as he and his companions strode inward towards the seat of Duke Klargus himself. An elderly man whose features were weathered with decades of experience, Klargus could have passed for a Vaegir, particularly due to his receding black hair... if it was not for his Swadian complexion. Glancing to Bellatrix, Cameron, and the others among their group, Komolov cleared his throat before making his way to the front of their party and kneeling briefly before the Duke.

 

"Good evening, your magnificence," Komolov said in a respectful tone, restraining a smirk at how Vaegir his accent must sound to these Swadians, "I am Komolov Yuliy of Vaegirs, and these are my brothers and sisters in arms and blood; Bellatrix de l'Aeryngton of lands beyond Calradia, Cameron Haringoth of Swadia, Bjorn One-Eye of the Nords, and Monksley von Harwich—who is also a humble associate of mine from beyond Calradia."

 

The Vaegir then slowly rose to his feet following the brief introductions, "Out of a dutiful obligation for ensuring justice and the well-being of innocents whose lives were threatened, we have skillfully routed and eliminated a camp of bandits in the forest north of Ushkuru. Since your grace is the most renowned and recognized sovereign of these northern reaches of Swadia, we have brought the evidence of our good deeds to you. Gentlemen?"

 

Komolov took a step to his left as he looked back to his companions who carried laden burlap sacks stained red with dried blood. "Please be careful not to drop or drip anything, friends?"

Edited June 19, 2015 by FreemasonGamer

[Flipout6]

Cameron enjoyed the free time they spent riding on the way to the keep in Dhirim despite the severed head that occasional rustled in its sack in one of Aristide's saddlebags. He even removed his helmet a few hours after Mirchaud had departed and let his (manky: he needed a bath) black hair catch a bit of the cool breeze rolling down from the hills. He kept the great helm close to him as they rode.

 

He was glad to see Dhirim off in the distance. He didn't mind the road, but access to at least a washbasin would be a refreshing change from having to bathe in whatever body of water he came across. On top of that, Duke Klargus seemed somebody worthy of Cameron's respect, if the reports him of him leading his men into battle even as his hair greyed were accurate. Granted, perhaps it would turn out that Mirchaud was his superior with regards to courtesy, but that didn't discount Klargus's spirit.

 

He expected Bellatrix or even himelf to be the one to present the severed bandit heads as evidence of their success once they entered the Keep, but instead, the Vaegir was the one who introduced them. The Swadian shrugged and withdrew the head he carried, thankful when he beheld the bloodied sack that he'd "doubled up," so to speak, and wrapped the sack carrying the head in another bag. He held the head overtop both flaps of burlap, preventing the odd trickle of blood from touching the floors.

 

"Rest assured, Komolov, for I am not nearly that foolish." He replied coolly when the Vaegir pleaded they not leave a mess on the Duke's floors.

 

Perhaps not the case with our dear Nord, here. He thought.

[AurianaValoria1]

As the comrades removed proof of their deed for the Duke and his wife to see, Anna covered her mouth and looked away. Klargus, however, seemed unabashed by the presentation, merely standing with a sigh, "And I suppose you will be wanting compensation for your deed? Very well."

 

He snapped his fingers and gestured to a servant in the shadows, who merely nodded and approached to take the evidence from their hands. The Duke then explained, "These will be placed on pikes high upon my walls...and may they serve as a reminder to other foolish brigands that justice shall be meted out in the Kingdom of Swadia." Beside him, the duchess seemed to be a bit disgusted by the decision, apparent by the expression upon her face, but she said nothing in objection to her husband's will.

 

When the servant returned with a bag of gold in hand, he bowed and gave it to the Duke, who then rose from his throne and came closer, "Who is the leader amongst you?"

 

"I am," Bellatrix immediately stepped forward before anyone could respond, chin held high.

 

The Duke hesitated, sharp grey eyes squinting at her skeptically. Anna watched over his shoulder, her new expression hard to read. Finally, however, he plopped the bag of coin onto Bellatrix's outstretched palm, "One thousand denars. To be shared amongst your men as you so desire." Klargus, seemingly disinterested in her, then fixed his gaze upon the knight in their company, "Cameron Haringoth. Odd to see-"

 

He was cut off abruptly as a soldier burst through the keep doors and scrambled to kneel at Klargus's feet, "My...lord...I..." he panted, obviously having run as hard and fast as he could for some distance, "Nords...the Kingdom of the Nords has declared war on us...disputed land on our northern borders...again..." he trailed and shook his head, "Your orders, my lord?"

 

Klargus looked back and exchanged glances with his wife; Anna looked wistful, but nodded. The Duke then turned to the messenger once more and answered, "Spread word that, as Marshal of Swadia, I desire our combined forces to be mustered here in Dhirim in four days' time. The king may do as he pleases, of course."

 

The messenger stood, bowed, and then dashed out of the keep doors again to do his liege's bidding.

 

There were a few moments of silence following the messenger's hasty departure, during which only the crackling of the fires in the sconces could be heard, but then the Duke returned his attention to Cameron, "So...Lord Cameron. As a noble of Swadia, will you be following us into battle, as duty demands?"

[FreemasonGamer]

Komolov smiled proudly as Duke Klargus handed a hefty-sized sack of denar to Bellatrix; their payment was rightfully earned in blood from both parties involved in the matter. However, the Vaegir slowly began to realize that his own mission was not yet complete; of his three sisters, only Emina still resided with those bandits by the time Komolov and his companions had arrived. Emina had said that their two sisters—Beriya and Rykoya—were sold into slavery, and Komolov had absolutely no feasible leads to track them down. This bleak reality quickly dampened Komolov's spirits, and he began to acknowledge his own wariness in his brooding state. His entire body was sore, but his arms were particularly ached with dull pain from the wounds he had sustained; both he and his fellows would surely need a few days of respite to recover from their recent endeavors.

 

When Klargus inquired if Cameron would fulfill his noble duty to Swadia and fight alongside his troops against the new threat of a Nordic war, Komolov glanced worriedly between Bellatrix and Cameron. As Komolov saw it, they were a group of sellswords who replied upon one another; one's leaving could endanger the entire group, especially if it was the trained Swadian knight who was leaving. However, they as a whole were not in any shape to fight, much less fight alongside hundreds of other men in a war between nations. Consequently, they were in a bind in every sense of the word. Cameron couldn't—and most likely wouldn't—possibly submit to any noble duty, but Komolov doubted if abandoning such duties in the presence of a Duke would do much good either...

Edited June 29, 2015 by FreemasonGamer