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Post by Max Füchs on Jul 26, 2007 0:42:45 GMT 9.5
Am I really that unusual? Daven wondered sarcastically. Though it's clearly obvious I'm not the problem. He began walking quietly in the direction of the aforementioned east stairwell, noticing small groups of soldiers moving around with no clear direction.
I thought soldiers were battle-hardened and organised. These guys make mercenaries look perfectionist. His thoughts were sharp as he walked down the stairs.
But perhaps this blacksmith can help me. He did follow the smell, as the soldier suggested. After a few mistakes, he opened the door to the smith.
"My dear blacksmith...can I bother you for a period of time?"
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Post by Treijim on Jul 28, 2007 8:09:30 GMT 9.5
A huge man with a round face and narrow eyes looked up at Daven. For at least two minutes, he stared, his sweaty bulk gently moving as he heaved each breath, and then he spoke in a surprisingly small voice.
"You already have bothered me," he muttered, obviously annoyed but not going back to his work. "You must be one of the new ones. Waddya want?"
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Post by Max Füchs on Jul 28, 2007 23:56:04 GMT 9.5
"More like what the new commander wants." Daven responded, raising an eyebrow at the man. "But what I would like to know is what has been happening around here?"
"Soldiers are generally organised, far more than mercenaries. The ones here seem to have broken that tradition." His voice was blunt, his eyes staring straight at the blacksmith. He crossed his arms over his chest. "You don't seem to be in the same state."
"I'm a mercenary, and I'm amazed at the state these soldiers are in." He added. "I'm here for the money, I would have thought that even soldiers would remember the money and stay moralised."
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Post by Treijim on Aug 11, 2007 10:20:28 GMT 9.5
"What's been happening? What's been happening?!" the blacksmith mocked, and though he rolled back and forth and wheezed, it appeared he was actually laughing.
He pointed a fat finger to a plate cuirass on a nearby anvil. It was heavy blemished and had large gashes through it, that seemingly required no effort to make. The smith went and turned it over in his hands, shaking his head.
"This is beyond repair, and I needn't explain the state of the soldier that was wearing this, aye?" He dropped it back on the anvil with a clatter. "Money does nothing to men when they see this kind of thing. People here are so scared they're going insane. I mean, the only reason they stay here is for the pay. But seeing the fate of soldiers here, would you say it's worth it, lad?"
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Post by Max Füchs on Aug 18, 2007 22:58:13 GMT 9.5
Daven raised a furry eyebrow as the blacksmith went to the armour. As he picked up the cuirass, Daven widened his eyes at the gashes and winced slightly. He moved over to the armour to exam it more carefully.
"It would depend." He began his answer to the blacksmith's question. "Being what I am, I would say that it would be worth it. But I have little choice. A soldier, on the other hand, probably would."
He tapped the armour with his claw. "However enough money can tempt even the most fearful into doing just about anything. I'm willing to admit that our new commander will go to such lengths, he probably needs to."
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Post by Treijim on Aug 25, 2007 18:42:08 GMT 9.5
"Okay, all right," said the blacksmith. "I know this feller is a Commander of Lyte and such and all, but there are lots of men on this huge island. I'm not mathematician but doesn't that equally a terribly large amount of money? The pay is already high and I heard our last Captain mutter about stretching the limits."
He fell back onto a big chair and leant against the wall, stroking his beard in thought.
"I'm willing to help, though. Perhaps there's another way to can lower the risk these men are exposed to, if you catch my meaning..."
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Post by Max Füchs on Aug 26, 2007 22:29:20 GMT 9.5
"Your last Captain had already being driven insane, and possibly did not have access to the same coffers his replacement has." The Ildemin watched the blacksmith as he thought. "The Commander is high-ranking, perhaps he can acquire what his predecessor here could not."
As the blacksmith began speaking again, Daven's eyes glinted slightly, as if it were visible that his brain was working within.
"If we do have a way to lower the risk, any way, it may be the moraliser that money will not be. Hope is a powerful motivator, as is a Commander of Lyte. But first..." The Ildemin peered closely at the blacksmith. "What are your ideas, if any, to reduce the risk? I am open to suggestions, we may need them."
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Post by Treijim on Sept 4, 2007 2:29:43 GMT 9.5
"Well goodness," cried the smith, "isn't it your job to think things up? Oh I guess you're just a sell-sword, so thinking isn't your thing, eh?" he teased. "But I'm sure this Murdock fellow can do more than our last leader, if he can even be called that... Look at it this way; the men fear the imminent doom that hangs over this island. Surely you felt it when you came here. What if you were to take some men and trek down to the south, where the real danger lies, and come back with some kind of trophy? Even if it's a skull you found in the dirt, you can claim it's a Folang leader and that they won't be nearly as dangerous now that they have no commanding unit. You'd be surprised what men are capable of when they believe their enemy to be naught."
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Post by Max Füchs on Sept 15, 2007 15:22:06 GMT 9.5
"We could do that. It would be a gambit more than anything, but it's possible. The men may end up believing anything in this kind of state. " He looked at the blacksmith carefully. "How is it that you retain sanity yet no-one else does? You're thinking straight, you show no signs of breaking and you're acting completely normal. Yet you've seen the damage these things can do."
He paused. "Unless it's the sight of seeing the things themselves that has broken the men, rather than the damage. Or seeing them in the action of doing the damage. But anyway..."
He shook his head, then pointed at the damaged cuirass. "I suggest hiding that. The men see that..." He let the sentence hang in the air.
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Post by Treijim on Sept 16, 2007 20:09:20 GMT 9.5
The smith shrugged. "I dunno what it is. I aint scared, but then I reckon I'm pretty safe down here eh?" He grabbed the cuirass and chucked it into a dark corner, where it landed with a clang. "I guess that's the reason for my sanity?"
He turned and looked at Daven with dark eyes, suddenly looking peculiar somehow. He stared for a minute as though daring him to respond, and then he turned back to his furnace. Then he wiped his thick moustache, sniffed, and threw himself down in a chair that somehow managed to support his weight.
"So do ye want directions? If yer gonna be heading south to find something to use as a trophy, and you take some men... Well I can easily imagine them running in fear before ye even reach the wasteland. So..." He reached over to his drawer and pulled out an old scroll. "Take this 'ere map. It'll guide you to the caves and back. Waddya say t' that?" He held the map out, looking up again with his strange stare from beneath bushy eyebrows.
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Post by Max Füchs on Oct 12, 2007 0:00:27 GMT 9.5
(I said I'd get it done eventually! Ha!)
"Perhaps. At least that means we have someone sane to give us information on the others here, and the surrounding area." Daven muttered as he watched the cuirass sail into the corner. "The other soldiers seem a little too demoralised to do even that."
He took the map from the smith and studied it carefully. "This is good. It will keep the men I pick from the fresh units under control. Though hopefully their discipline would do that, but you never know..."
He could feel the smith's eyes on him and met them. "So I'll make sure to take them, a small group should be sufficient, so as to not leave the place protected by the already-broken soldiers."
He sighed. "Why are you looking at me like that? Am I really that unusual?"
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Post by Treijim on Oct 21, 2007 7:19:27 GMT 9.5
"Aye that's a good idea," the smith said. "Naw you're not unusual. Not compared to most of the men 'round here anyway. You've got an air in your head. The others have dust and smog." He choked a laugh and turned to get back to his work.
"Just be careful. There are really dangerous things out there, ya know..."
[If you like, you can put your next post out in the wilderness of Curin and begin your small quest]
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Karl
Foreigner
Posts: 5
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Post by Karl on Jun 29, 2008 12:57:22 GMT 9.5
[OOC: Joining in with Thane.]
His dark, thoughtful eyes glared into the flickering flames of the nearby campfire. Leaning on one of the wall's stone pillars, Thane crossed his heavy gauntleted arms across his chest. A warm gleam emanating from the fire reflected against his metal clad armor. The cold weather had forced him to push his visored helmet against his face, concealing most of his features apart from his oculi. Dim fog eluded from his breath, cluttering his sight further.
He didn't like being in this place, yet he did it, just to please his father. "A good opportunity ta' get promoted son!" hurled his father as he waved him good bye.
Thane sighed, he didn't want to be here. Not only were the living conditions mediocre, but apparently men were turning insane, and they were all doomed. For some reason, though, the lad didn't seem particularly bothered by the rumoring.
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Post by Treijim on Jun 30, 2008 22:45:03 GMT 9.5
"He's going to do what?"
"Go out into the wild and bring back a trophy to prove there's nothing to fear, sir," said the trembling.
Murdock seemed infuriated at the least. His raised voice, tight knuckles, and concentrated stare were proof enough, but there was still a strange calmness in his posture that gave him an aura of authority when compared with the cowardly soldiers. He looked at each man individually. They all looked away.
"That's a task for a captain, not a lowly soldier," Murdock said, raising his head. "Bhergen, prepare my equipment for a trek."
"Yes sir," said a large fellow.
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Murdock strode out of the door with surprising grace but then stopped in his tracks. He scanned the room and addressed the first soldier he laid eyes on.
"You there," Murdock said, pointing at Thane.
"Address your superior at once!" Bhergen growled.
Murdock didn't wait for such formalities, though. Before Thane could even stand, he tossed his first offer at the young man: "Accompany me and my bodyguard into the wilderness for three days. I will increase your pay thricefold should you accept. Should you not, you had very well best resign."
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Karl
Foreigner
Posts: 5
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Post by Karl on Jul 1, 2008 10:39:58 GMT 9.5
Thane blinked lightly. Hearing Murdock's "You there", he glanced to his side and nearly gasped as Bhergen shouted to him. He hurriedly pressed off the ground with a loud and clumsy clang of his armor's metallic pieces smacking against each others and stood straight, resting his right hand onto the hilt of his crummy, rusted sheathed iron sword.
A frown adorned his brows for a moment as Murdock explained the orders and his expression eased up on the superior's last comment. Resign? He'd much rather die in the battlefield, his father would be crushed with disappointment.
"Yes, sire." He muttered simply, in a low, rather diffident tone of voice. He flicked the visor of his helmet up, revealing his black eyes which cradled the reflection of the nearby flames. He stood there, motionless, waiting for further orders.
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