The Jovian War: Judgement (Present Time)

[Sir Nichtmar]

(Invite Only RP, Baethor obviously you are invited. If you would like to join send me a PM.)

It’s late and quiet in Mittelmarch. The people are resting from a days’ work of rebuilding, just one of several for the next months. Stacks of wood and stone sit on the main street that the Shogunate had brought with them. The prison was empty, but for one cell. Either the Jovians let the criminals go or they killed them. Either didn’t really matter now. A torch outside the cell barely lights its occupant. Baethor, ruff and raggad sits on the cot inside. His back against the wall and his legs down the cot, one knee up. He eye’s the guard in front of him. Nichtmar sits on a short stool, his elbows resting on his knees his head down. Rubbing his forehead, facing the ground, he speaks, “What do I do with you?”

“I want to believe you felt you were doing the right thing, but Mittelmarch blood stains your armor and sword.”

[Baethor]

the dwarf sits silently, staring at nichtmar, in his mind he thinks so i am to be blamed for all of the blood spilled at the battle, as well as what is on my hands. But the dwarf chose not to speak to his former friend. He sat on his cot as if he was carved their. after a few moments of awkward silence the dwarf reached to his still bandaged shoulder and rubbed it gently to keep his shoulder from aching, but the stare he gave nichtmar seemed to say I'm not the only one

At this gesture nichtmar closed his eyes and shook his head. They sat together in silence. after what seems an eternity the dwarf speaks, for what feels like the first time in a long time. Baethors old jovial tone and laughing exterior seemed to have died in the war.

"So are ye to be my judge ogre...Are ye also jury, and executioner?" The dwarf lifted a ladle from a bucket of water next to his cot and tipped the liquid back past his lips. Nichtmar had begun to say something but the dwarf interrupted him. "I do not deny the blood on my hands ogre. But what of your own. Or tatsumura. Or oof. He and his have been killing mittelmarch citizens for weeks claiming them to be traitors. It was MY actions that kept as many people in mittelmarch alive as we did, in the first battle. I pledged to keep this city safe nichtmar, many years ago when I built the walls that defend it, and i've stood on that wall and looked out at invading orcs, dark elves, demons and men. And every time i weighed the options, and even in the face of defeat it was always fight...or die fighting...None of you were their...Mittelmarch was near defenceless...even with dunland arriving at the last second we were outnumbered hopelessly, but even then i was willing to burn to keep my city safe...But something happened nichtmar...The jovians spoke with me...as men...and offered the surrender of mittelmarch in exchange for keeping it and its citizens safe...a new option nichtmar, one that didnt involve bloodshed...The thought of it nichtmar...a choice that allowed mittelmarch citizens to be safe...to have real SOLDIERS on the walls...rather then a rabble of men wearing whatever armor they can scrape together. The jovians brought doctors, Teachers, smiths to equip mittelmarch. We had finally become a city...

we were safe for the longest time. Until tatsumura had to attack supply lines in the attempt to starve the jovians out. Starving the citizens of mittelmarch as well, or at least those who he hadn't taken inte the kyuden....I do regret the blood spilled on my blade nichtmar...I will carry them with me forever...But what weighs heaviest on me is that for all my efforts i have fallen short...I have failed in my one blood oath...Te protect this city from harm...I have become what all dwarves fear becoming...I am the Ungrim, The oathbreaker...The dwarves chest heaved deeply and he did something Nichtmar had never seen in all the years he's known him. Something he hadn't done since Karak Azboferg fell...The dwarf curled his knees to his chest, his stone exterior faded and tears rolled down the dwarves face...

"Leave me nichtmar...Decide my fate i dinne care anymore...If others wish te speak with me send them...I ask only two things...My men who followed me, do not judge them for my actions..Second, whoever comes next have them bring me my pipe..."

[Tatsumura Masamune]

Masamune leaned against a wall, just within earshot of the talking dwarf and ogre. He listened to their words, remaining silent for the moment. He closed his eyes, and rub his side gingerly. He had recieved two jovian arrows to his side from a patrol on his way to join King Anvil's assault.

He listened to Baethor's words, and knew there was truth in them. And then his mind drifted to the aftermath of the battle. The hundreds that laid dead or dying, the hundreds more wounded. Mittelmarch had been retaken, but at a terrible cost. Had it been worth it, were words that dwelled on his mind for the last couple of days. Baethor's words struck a cord on Masamune's thoughts, though only for a moment. Because for all the sorrow and moarnful atmosphere that hung over Mittelmarch, when the refugees that had taken home in Kyuden Tatsumura finally returned to see their home, despite its condition, the look on their faces, to be home, to be reunited with their families, told Masamune that what he had done was right.

Masamune had not held Baethor's decision against him, he understood his position, his time amongst gaijin cultures brought him this understanding. He now wondered if Baethor would understand Masamune's position though. Either way, when the council convined, it would be tough. Masamune would do what he could to make sure no harm came to Baethor, to his onee-san.

Masamune kept his eyes closed as Nichtmar came around the corner. He did not look, only speaking to his knightly friend. His voice was smooth, considering what happened the last time they were this close together.

"So, he is still keeping to himself in many ways, hmm.?"

Masamune looked up finally, this time, looking the ogre in the eyes, noting the lack of the previous darkness.

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar stood and bowed to Masamune. Then looked to Baethor and back to Masamune.

"I owe you both an apology, I was not myself last we saw each other. For that I am sorry."

He turned back to Baethor, "I did want you dead, Baethor. You may have been unaware how close death was to you. Masamune saved you from my rage, and he also saved my soul. God, Gods, whomever that watches over us chose for you to survive. I have no desire to kill you, my friend."

[Tatsumura Masamune]

Masamune pushed off the wall, placing a hand on the large shoulder of Nichtmar.

"There is no need to apologize old friend, you were not yourself. Besides, we have all done things lately we are not particularly proud of."

Masamune pulled his hand away, and made his way to Baethor's cell. He peered inside, seeing the uncharacteristic cowed appearance of the dwarf.

"Do you mind if I join you onee-san?"

Masamune stood back, waiting for a reply.

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar walked off into the dark for a moment and returned with a leather pouch and tossed it on to Baethor's cot and then leaned on the wall behind Masamune.

[Baethor]

The dwarf sits quietly but motions to the chair across from him as if to say "Not anything i can do to stop you." , not looking up, he reaches over and picks up the leather pouch, giving a nod of thanks to nichtmar as he pulls his distinctive pipe from the pouch, holding it like an old friend the dwarf to great care to pack the bowl with the last of his hobbit-pipe weed. Drawing a long thin stick from the bag he leans towards a candle nearby and lights the tip of it, bringing the smoldering twig to the bowl of his pip and lighting it with ease.

The dwarf breathed a sigh exhaling a cloud of thick smoke in front of him and looked up to his captors.

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar, unlike his un-tapered youth, now he thinks before he speaks, he lets everything come into view. The possible reasons of why Baethor would think these Jovians were worthy of joining. He also had been on the wrong side, whether the curse made him do it or not, Nichtmar’s own will was too weak and he had also slain Mittelmarchers. So Nichtmar could relate to what Baethor was going through.
“We all seek redemption for our past, friend. I cannot judge you. I have been where you are. The question is, are you ready to pick up your axe once again for the glory of Mittelmarch?”

Nichtmar pulled a familiar dwarven axe from behind him. Its runes meant nothing to Nichtmar, but to Baethor they are as familiar as air.

[Baethor]

The dwarf locked his eyes on the axe. The runes shimmered in the pale candlelight, a trail of smoke left Baethors lips as he looked up at the ogre. "Nichtmar...I still dont think ye quite understand...Would i take up the axe and shield again, of course i would...but who would stand with me now...The people of mittelmarch who stayed perhaps. But those who've returned like you view me as a traitor...If they had there way I'd be strung up by mornin...My men who i lead as jovians, i do not even know if they would even walk beside me much less fight for me...I am unsure i can even stay in mittelmarch at this point...This city that i love, that i built with my two hands...And if it nay yer place to judge me then its also not yer place to set me free... It will be the Mittelmarch council, ai?" The dwarf puffed his pipe a few more times, his old stony exterior returning to him.

"An' if rumor is true..It may not metter what the council decides..I've heard Oof's thieves guild has turned assassin on mittelmarch itself. If the damned giant views me as such then no place in the city is safe fer me, Ai?"

[Sir Nichtmar]

He looked hard at Baethor. "Then the people will decide."

He marched out of the prison.

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar met with Masamune.

"Masamune, I will be leaving for Dunland. I will find out what the alliance plans to do next."

Nichtmar bows and leaves. He travels as a commoner. He has no desire to be found as a Mittelmarcher by Jovian scouts.

[Tatsumura Masamune]

Masamune stands there for a moment after Nichtmar leaves. He makes his way into the cell. Sitting down across from Baethor, Masamune leans his head against the cold stone of the wall.

"Have I ever told you about the Crab clan?"

Baethor shakes his head no, ever so slightly.

"The Crab serve as the first and in many ways, best defense against the Shadowlands in Rokugan. They are like the dwarves in many ways. The Kaiu have built the great Carpenter wall, that I believe even the dwarves would appreciate. The Hida, defend the wall, holding back the endless nightmares that come from beyond it. Many years ago, the wall was built to stop an advancing army out of that hellish place. Many of the warriors that fought to make sure that there was time for the wall to be built, became Tainted."

Masamune pauses as Baethor raises an eyebrow at the word.

"The Taint is a disease of sorts, the work of Jigoku and Fu Leng. It corrupts not only the body, bu your very soul. Twisting you into a monster, bent on the destruction of all that you once held dear. The only way to cleanse the Taint from your soul, use to be to commit seppuku, or sucide as you may call it. But the Crab at that battle found another way. They became a group, calling themselves the Damned. Even though they were tainted, they would fight till their last breath against the beast and oni of the Shadowlands. Those that die in combat against the Shadowlands, are cleansed of their taint."

Masamune stands up, and walks to the cell bars, looking out.

"Being much like the dwarves, is their something similar within your own societies?"

Masamune turns to look at the sullen dwarf.

"And also, wondering who would fight beside you? I would fight beside you onee-san."