Blood in the Streets (Under Harrow's Rule - Open)

[Anvil]

Anvil ran his hand through his thinning hair, the woman in front of him was waiting for orders after telling him about the happenings at the library. She shifted her cloak and for a moment the long knife on her belt showed next to her quiver.

"Tell the rest of the defenders on watch to be careful and rouse the rest of the company in the city and tell them they are on alert." Anvil turns and reaches for his belt and scabbard "no one will go about unarmed and make sure the provisions are secured."

After she turns and leaves another ranger moves from the shadows in the room. "Well?" he asks Anvil.
Anvil turns and stares at him for a moment. After releasing a heavy sigh he nods and says "Initiate the plan, from this point on we are to defend the people no matter what. I'll go and find Nichtmar and deal with him, make sure you put good people watching me becouse that damn ogre has a temper."

[Baethor]

Nichtmar begins barking orders to his gaurdsmen, keeping them on watch around the library as the dwarves go about their business. toolkits clink lightly in the silence of the library as they spread out to investigate certain areas.

Baethor slinks off near the back of the library away from nichtmar and his gaurdsmen, back into areas where helvaryn would let few enter, and none to enter alone. keeping the corner of his eye over his shoulder he quickly scans through the books. he pulls one, bound in red leather with indiscernable runes burned into the leather. he flips through a few of the yellowed cracking pages carefully and tucks it into the satchel on his hip. Repeating this process he borrows a few more books from helvaryn, secreting them away on his person.

A young dwarf walks up to baethor as he returns to the main portion of the library. "Duk'rik, we've found something."

"Show me."

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar follows the dwarves to a back corner of the library. A staircase that goes up to an overlook over Mittelmarch. Before the stair case the dwarf pushes a torch that must be some sort of lever. The stairs seem to lower one step at a time. The first step becomes the highest step and the rest seem to lower accordling so they go down.


"Your men are excellent at what they do."

Baethor nods, "shh", and grabs a torch off the wall and begins to head down stairs to hall that tees. He turns left. and heads to a large vaulted room with other halls heading in different directions. Couches, seats crates of supplies are seen through out.

"Hmm, now what?"

[Baethor]

Baethor turns to the ogre again and raises his index finger to his lips to indicate that the ogre should remain silent. he hands the torch to nichtmar as his dwarves draw their weapons. in a hushed tone baethor looks out into the hallway.

"stay here, we can see in the dark, you cant. we'll see what the situation is while you hold the doorway."

The dwarves cross the stone silently, holding to the walls they move into the darkness... the tread of dwarven boots isnt easy to mask, but soon the halls are silent again. long moments pass as the gaurdsmen begin to sweat, sitting in a deathly silent hallway for what feels like hours, though it only has been minutes.

Suddenly the tension is broken, a scuffle is heard down the hall and a cry of pain echoes down the hallway. the gaurdsmen spring into position awaiting nichtmars orders, just as he is about to give them, a bellowing shout echoes back from the shadows.

"ALL CLEAR! Come on up ogre!"

the gaurdsmen push forward warily until the torchlight reveals the dwarves surrounding a very young pickpocket, held against the wall by a pair of burly dwarves. the young human is frightened clearly.

"E's the only one here. the rest of em must have cleared out when oof was taken inta prison. looks like they left in a hurry, theres still half eaten food on the tables up ahead."

Baethor barks in dwarvish and the boy is let down from the wall, turned over to the gaurds custody. a bit more dwarvish and the dwarves set there weapons at ease and pull back out their toolkits.

"Theres a few trap doors around, most likely fer the theives to make a sneaky getaway or entrance. me boys'll stop em up. No thief will set foot in here again wit'out going through the main entrance. By yer leave sir Nichtmar me men will return home after that."

[Sir Nichtmar]

They start searching around as the dwarves wedge the doors so no one can enter except for through the library. Mittelmarch guard have the library secured, so they have plenty of time. There are scrolls, books, and papers on probably Oof’s desk. The rather large chair gave it away. A lot of the papers have been written in code. They assume jobs of some sort. The dwarves have left and they’ve been down there for hours and haven’t found anything tying Oof to the murders.

A guard comes down, “Sirs, Lord Anvil is upstairs asking for you?”

“Send him down.”

[Anvil]

Anvil scans the library as he is led to the knight, he is impressed by the size and scope of the building. He mentally scolds himself for not coming here before.

Nichtmar is scanning papers on a desk that looks almost a fitting size for the ogre.

Anvil takes a deep breath and speaks before the ogre looks up.
"Sir Nichtmar, I come to you as a friend and am telling you this so there will be no mis-understanding between us. You know I have come to your aid many times in the past and plan on doing so agian in the future, but not in this. I think your wrong about the guild and Oof. I respect your authority and will not interfere with you or the city guard, but, I am moving my people out of the guard barracks and we are setting up a palisade and a large wooden cabin on our new land here in the city.

Anvil watches for signs of anger in the ogre as he continues.

"You are bringing about a war in the city. My people will not aid either side but we will do whatever it takes to keep the innocents from getting hurt in this upcoming clash. I will relocate anyone who wants it to a wooded base we have set up outside the city and we will offer aid and protection to the people here in the city in our pallisade."

Anvil's face fills with sorrow as he looks up to the ogre. "This will be a war in the shadows my friend, I hope your ready for that."

With his say finished the former king of dunland waits for the ogre's reaction to his bold statements.

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar stopped looking at the papers once he heard the tone of Anvil and carefully listened to every word. He held his chin for a moment glanced over to Baethor for a moment to see any reaction on his face and then looked to Anvil.

“Anvil, it’s refreshing to hear an honest perspective. No, Oof isn’t behind the murders, but he is a criminal and somehow evidence was put there so we’d bring him in. He has connections and we have no time to negotiate with the giant while people are dying. I fear this “war” you say I’m bringing about was put in motion long before we started looking into the murders. Someone is working against the order of Mittelmarch and we’re going to find them and kill them."

Nichtmar stops to think and puts a hand to his chin.

“A palisade is a good idea. The feuding is at boiling point and I fear for our people. My ogre kind had to constantly struggle with the Tor tribe. They always wanted blood and control over the tribes. Sometimes we’d negotiate a peace, but we all knew it wouldn’t last. Humans and our kind have the same underling prejudices. Sure peace will be had, but it only takes a small blade to start a crack that leads to a gushing wound. ”

Nichtmar stands and gives Anvil a warrior’s hand shake.

“Do what you must brother. We’ll survive this storm as we have all the others.”

[Baethor]

"I think you may have stirred up a hornets nest nichtmar, ye've backed oof and the guild inte a corner. This will get ugly mark my words. I need a drink, I'm finished here Sir knight, by yer leave i will retire fer the evening."

The ogre gives Baethor a look of frustration, and nods for him to leave. Baethor looks to anvil and gives him a stoic nod, then calmly makes his way from the library.

"a quick stop in cedrics fer an ale, then get home to see what i can learn from these books..."

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar listens to Baethor, shakes his hand, watches him leave, and start to vent to Anvil.

"Damn when did this all fall in my lap, I wasn't the only one their making the arrest. Baethor's the one who about crippled him. Although if it were up to me I'd probably have slit his giant neck by now. I'm no leader, at least for not this size of decisions. I'm more of a "here's your enemy and just kill em and be done" type of ogre.

"What should I do, Anvil? I know someone is working against us. Undermining our authority, but what do we do about it when you don't know who the threat is?"

[Anvil]

Anvil listens to the ogre as he lashes out at no one in particular, and he understands the frustration felt by his friend.

"You can do nothing more than what you think is right, pray you bring about no more harm to the innocent than necesary, and rely on your sword arm and friends."

Anvil begins pacing as is his way when he begins to think, and this is something that has kept his mind busy as of late.

"I agree there is an outside force playing this tune, we need to be cautious when we move forward. Unfortunetly we have to many foes who would love to see us turn on ourselves and weaken our forces even more than we already are to be able to quickly root out the culprit. That is if it isn't someone new who hasn't revealed themselves yet."

Anvil stops and seems to be argueing with himself internally with some issue, finally he looks around to make sure they are alone and turns to the ogre.

"I am trying to make contact with guild to tell them the same thing as I've told you about my people staying nuetral in this, I have enough members in my orginazation that are all but rouges themselves that I believe I have a good idea of how to contact them. maybe by bridging the two sides I can garner enough information to root out the master mind behind this."

Anvil walks up to the ogre and in a lower voice says "Sir knight you are a brave and great warrior, but this is my kind of fight, you will be in a running guerrila conflict. There will not be a battle on a field until the end if ever. It will be daggers in the night, snipers from the rooftops and food that will be tainted, your fighters will be worn down by fear and tension. I pray we find the culprit before to many more die and the city falls into anarchy."

[Sir Nichtmar]

"Damn." Is all that he could say. There's no controlling this situation and he's just realizing it.

BOOM. The building rocked over head. Anvil and Nichtmar ran up stairs and out the library doors. Panic was everywhere. A guard, out of breath, ran up to them.

"Sir, the Silvermoon, humans, all dead..."

"Calm down soldier."

"Someone blew up the the silvermoon tavern and it was full of humans. Bodies are everywhere. A group of humans took off down the road and there's a brawl going on."

As they speak another explosion is heard. Glass is shattering. People are screaming.

"Men, go in groups of 10 and get people to the Forum if you can't make it their go to the Defenders Palisade. Try not to subdue the brawlers, but if you can't do what you must to get people to safety!"

"Anvil, do what you must. I'm going to see Oof."



FYI:
www.mittelmarch.com/mmmap.htm

[Sir Nichtmar]

Fighting, looting, bodies fill the street and the desperate suffer. A group of vial orcs and laughing goblins play toss with a young human boy from one building to another. The child screams and cries as he flies through the air. The Orcs catch him. Suddenly the head of one orc is taken and the others drop the kid. Another is impaled by a sword. The blade is ripped out and slices open the gut of another. The last orc cowers.

The ogre knight demands “Get out of Mittelmarch and never come back.”

He takes the child to the Forum where several others human and non-human have taken refuge. The gate is heavily guarded.
Nichtmar heads to the prison. He grabs keys off the hook and starts to head for Oof.
“Well, I guess my abilities for judgment have been compromised.”

He unlocks the shackles. He pulls out a very unique dagger with strange jagged-edge kind of like a key.

“Before Helvaryn took his last breath, he told me to give this to you. The blade that the assassin used was poisoned you see. So he knew death was around the corner. He seemed to trust you. I know I don’t trust you, but I hope somewhere in your schemes you are doing what’s best for Mittelmarch.”

Nichtmar sheaths the dagger and tosses it to Oof. “Go. The guards will let you pass.”

[Devias Harrow]

Harrow ran out into the street just seconds after the explosion, rushing to find the source of the disturbance. A massive throng of Mittelmarchers had gathered in the street by the time he reached the decimated ruins of the Silvermoon tavern. There were human bodies everywhere. Exclusively human bodies. He walked forward slowly, breaking away from the group. Harrow turned slowly to face the crowd, tears of rage pouring down his face.

"What did I tell you Mittelmarch?" He half-shouted, half-sobbed. "Did I not tell you this would happen?" He trailed off a second, then spoke again. His voice was stronger now, and he noticed the non-humans had all but disappeared.. "There's no doubt about it now. They're out to get us, fellow humans."

A voice rang out of the crowd. "Who did this Devias? Tell us who's responsible and we'll fight with you!" The crowd roared its agreement.

Harrow paused again, weighing his words carefully. The crowd had swollen since his arrival, and he estimated he nearly had the entire human population of Mittelmarch hanging on his every word. "There's only one race in this city with the power to do this," he said, gesturing to the rubble behind him. "The dwarves must either leave the city, or they must die," He pronounced gravely. "We go to Cedric's!"

The faces of his newfound army were grim, but resolute. Harrow could feel the hatred pouring off of them. They gathered weapons of all kinds: pitchforks, cleavers, clubs, knives, bows, and even the occasional broadsword. They reformed quickly and followed Harrow down Main Street.

Before they had gone far they encountered a group of guards. He stopped and so did his men. Harrow glanced casually back at his army before sneering: "Stay out of our way. Blood calls for blood, and we are the law in Mittelmarch tonight." He moved on confidently, and some of his men even spat on the ground as the passed the guards.

It was not long before the human army reached Cedric's Inn, whose patrons poured out into the street. Among them was the dwarf Baethor, who Harrow knew led his kin. Harrow addressed him.

"You've overstayed your welcome, dwarf. First you allied against us with the Jovians, and now several of our kin lie strewn in the street. I'd prefer to not have to kill you, so my men and I are giving you a chance to leave now. Either way, we will not abide you to stay another night in Mittelmarch."

To Harrow's satisfaction, everyone but the few dwarves present perceptibly backed away from Baethor.

[Dorian Prior]

Dorian turned away in mild frustration. "There is no news."

"I have kept a constant vigil on the rooftops of the city, and have chased nothing but shadows across the alleyways. For someone so unprofessional in their kills, they are masterful in their discretion."

He let out a long sigh. "Oof is imprisoned, but for how long we do not know. The killings go on, and the rabble grow more tireless. Very, very soon we will have open war on our hands if we don't have a true face to this assailant, Mittelmarcher or no. A bloody witchhunt is at hand, and I only hope for our sake that we aren't caught in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Dorian paused, contemplating his next reply, though it would never be uttered. A dull thump is heard on the wind, and the ground shook beneath them. They turned to gaze in the direction of the city; a large plume of pitch smoke escaping into the sky. They looked back at each other for only a moment before they both broke into a sprint back towards their home.

And all Dorian could think to himself were his own words: "Very, very soon..."

[Carneth]

It was not long after Carneth cleared the gates that he found someone who was able to tell him what had happened. The Silvermoon tavern was destroyed. The human called Devias Harrow was currently leading an army of humans toward Cedric's...

Hearing that sent Carneth into a even deeper sprint than before. His short, dwarven legs ate up ground at great speed, startling passerby. In an unbelievably short period of time, he was merely a few blocks away from the inn. He heard Harrow's shouted ultimatum, and drew on reserves he didn't know he possessed. Bursting onto the scene, he pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the small group of dwarves. He wasted no time in pinning Baethor's weapon arm to his side and speaking frantic dwarvish into his leader's ear. It went something like this:

"Duk'rik, we must not fight! We've not enough warriors to come out of this battle alive, much less win! We need to back down!" In the face of Baethor's glare, he backed off and calmed down. "We need somewhere to go, my friend. Where will you send your dwarves?"

OOC: This thread is now open RP, but please PM Nichtmar, Dorian or myself before posting.

[oof]

Oof looks down at Helvarens blade. He hefts it and walk toward Nichtmar. "The assassin, such an interesting way to refer to yourself." Oof snarls at the ogre. "give me one reason I shouldn't slit your throat Ogre, just one and i might consider it. You kill the one person in Mittelmarch who I truly respected, and then expect me to just walk away. Tell me Nichtmar did he tell you who he was? did he tell you he founded the thieves guild? Did he even get the chance?"

Oof unsheaths the blade as he slowly walks toward Nichtmar. Before the ogre gets a chance to speak Oof lashes out with the dagger. His shoulder lets out a loud pop as he moves. Oof bellows in pain as the dagger scores a glancing blow to Nichtmar's shoulder.

[Anvil]

Anvil reaches the street and sees the chaos unfolding before him. A shadow steps out and stands next to Anvil until he turns and nods. The ranger brings a horn to his lips and lets out a long blast into the night.

Shortly an answering horn responds followed by a slow long bell tolling from the defender camp. A bonfire erupts in that diection to illuminate the streets for any souls looking for refuge.

Anvil looks around at the shadows and simply says "Roof tops" Several figures start climbing several building walls and disappear over the edges. Anvil and four more start walking down the streets calling out,

"Citizens, we need men for a fire brigade and to help the wounded, women and children remain inside and bolt your doors, anyone needing safe refuge seek out the defender camp by the city wall, Everyone remain calm."

He starts repeating himself as he goes and his men start pushing folks ahead of them toward doors of homes or the silver moon tavern.

[ziglerrobertson]

"What's all this yelling about!,"

Zigler appears at the front door to Cedric's dressed in simple leather pants, stained tunic and apron. On hid belt is a large cleaver and in his hand a strung and ready crossbow. The rather irate Inn Keep speaks to the crowd, doing his best to down play his minimal dwarven accent.

"Just what do ye mean by scarring away me customers Devias. Memory has it that you weren't too good to have a drink or two in my place before, especially durin' the occupation. Should I go back in and calculate your bar tab or will you kindly STOP THREATEN MAH' PLACE with yer TORCHES an' we'll call it even."

Zigler turns to face the gathered dwarfs.

"Best be getting inside now lad's, looks like there may be a storm acoming."

With that, the Inn Keeper hefts the crossbow and aims it above the crowd's heads.

[Devias Harrow]

"Zigler, we're not here to burn your tavern down, so don't give us a reason to," Harrow said. He turned his attention back to Baethor.

"And you, dwarf? Would you rather walk out or be thrown? Because we can certainly arrange for it." He said smugly.

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar didn't move as the giant stumbled his attack. He didn't flinch at the cut on his shoulder.

The ogre grabbed him.

"He was killed by whoever is behind the murders. He was already holding his guts in when we got there..."

Nichtmar lets go, "I didn't know the side you knew of him. He helped me in my education though. Taught me history and the importance of it. And not to repeat the failures of the past. Or atleast try not to."

"This thing between us, isn't important."

He points out, "That is!"

"After this is all over, if you wish for my blood. I will give you the chance. I know I've wronged you, but I hadn't seen the whole picture."

[A hooded figure]

At the ruin of the silvermoon a group of figures is wandering about helping survivors as the might and assisting in fighting the fires as they can. One of them kneels down before a mortally wounded man. "Brother" he quietly says. The man peers at his guild mate through pain filled eyes. "What happened?" asks the first man.

The second man shudders and stammers out "...was following an agent of Harrow...Went into tavern...followed him in right before ...blew up..."

The man sighs "Rest now"

[Baethor]

((ooc for clarification. anything in italics will be considered to be spoken in dwarvish.))

Baethor had locked eyes with devias, he could feel his heartbeat pound as blood and righteous anger swelled through him. his hand resting easily on the dwarven sabre on his hip. His expulsion would cost devias dearly....

"Duk'rik, we must not fight! We've not enough warriors to come out of this battle alive, much less win! We need to back down!" In the face of Baethor's glare, he backed off and calmed down. "We need somewhere to go, my friend. Where will you send your dwarves?"

His few loyal dwarves were bristling, ready to fight should it be commanded...for a young dwarf carneth speaks with a clearer head then i. baethor muses to himself...raising his hand he bids his dwarves to stand down in dwarvish. "Do not worry lads. I have a plan."

"As the dwarves who have built this city, i cannot allow you to continue this madness against cedrics devias. Yer men ar armed with tools and fire. Mine are armed with steel and years of experiance killing the nastiest things to come from the mist. To attack this bar would be to sell your lives dearly... However...I would prefer no more bloodshed on this terrible night. So i will accept your demand, so long as you agree that your mob will not touch cedrics...One single thatch in the roof, one errant stone...and i will descend back from the mountains with such a righteous fury that bards would sing of for generations... Do we have an accord? Or do i settle this in blood..."

Baethors hands gripped tightly to his pommels to accentuate his point. Devias smiled grimly at baethor, but knew that with the dwarves in the way the people would be much that much harder to draw to his cause...a nod of consent is all that is given.


Baethor rallies his dwarves and slowly walks in the direction of his house. Baethor hopes that nichtmar and the gaurd arrives soon.

"What is this plan Duk'rik?"

I'll explain while we pack what i will need. Come along.

[ziglerrobertson]

Zigler nods in the direction of the dwarf's in the fading light then resumes his stance, simply looking at the crowd. Devias and the others look to themselves and the flaming ruins of the SilverMoon across the square. Finally Zigler turns his back on them and walks into the Inn. After bolting the door the half-dwarf heads over to the bar and, opening a dusty bottle, sighs and says,

"Well ol' friend, it looks as though our paths may soon part again."

Raises the bottle to the empty room before taking a deep drink and snuffing out all the lights.

"Hopefully this won' be th last I see o' my Brothers. So ist das Leben."

Taking another drink, the Inn Keeper proceeds to sit down at a table, facing the door. He lays the cross bow down on the far side of the table and the cleaver next to it while continuing to drink in the reflections of the torchlight through the windows.

[Anvil]

As Anvil and his small mob that he and his men assembled along the way arrive in the square one of his rangers raises the horn and gives a long blast, the men all start moving to help the wounded and subdue the fires. Anvil notices the large cluster of men by Cedrics and moves toward them yelling out.

"What are you people doing?! Do ye not see the fires and wounded?! Get your arses over here and assist us before I yank you over by your hair!"

[Carneth]

Carneth finished wiping down the last table and tossed the beer-soaked rag into the fire. The rag caught instantly, and was already turning to ash as the dwarf collapsed into a chair by the hearth. He was exhausted, and more so than he would normally be at the end of a shift at Cedric's. There was a tension in Mittelmarch. The once friendly populace was now all dark glances and muttered curses. Fights were becoming commonplace, and Carneth had had to throw out more rowdy patrons in the past week than he had in the first year of his employment.

The fights weren't limited to Cedric's, either. The guards had broken up more than one brawl in the streets. Gangs of humans and non-humans alike roamed the city, casting threatening glares at each other and trading insults. People had begun to only leave their houses when absolutely necessary. Carneth himself rarely left Cedric's anymore, as the sight of a dwarf would likely cause any nearby gang of humans to attack.

The last time he had left the inn was to catch a group of non-humans before they started a fight. He had gotten word of their intentions and ran out immediately, catching them just as they cornered a young man in an alleyway. He told them off and they had backed down, though he was sure the broad-bladed axe he was waving around may have had something to do with their cooperation. What had stuck in his memory most was their exit, which had haunted his dreams the past couple nights. They had sulked away angrily, clenching their fists as they retreated. They had looked more like animals than people.

Even more worrying still was the other new development. Devias Harrow, who now controlled the humans of Mittelmarch, had ordered the reconstruction of the Silvermoon tavern, with a few changes. The sign, already made even before the foundations were relaid, now read:

The Goblin's Head
Open To Humans Only

It was merely a gesture, but the fact that Harrow had gotten away with it worried Carneth. The Crown of Mittelmarch seemed to have less and less power each passing day. Things were about to change.