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

[Devias Harrow]

As he oversaw the construction of The Goblin's Head, Devias Harrow had never felt so confident. The guard had come by several times since the sign had been posted, and not a word had been said. It was an insult to the Crown, bordering on high treason, and no guard had said anything to any of Harrow's flock. It was all he could do to keep himself from laughing out loud. He made up his mind, then flagged down one of his lieutenants.

"Gather our people, we have work to do," Harrow told him.

The man ran off to spread the word, and within minutes Harrow's entire force was gathered before him. They were even armed, though he had not ordered them to be, as if they could sense their leader's thoughts. He smiled widely. They would follow him without question now.

"My brothers and sisters!" He shouted, and the crowd gave him their full attention. "We achieved a great thing the other day, expelling the traitorous dwarves from our city!"

A young man in the front of the crowd raised his hand, saying "But Mr. Harrow sir, aren't there still dwarves in the city?" Harrow's lieutenants bristled, but Harrow waved them off, smiling even wider.

"Yes my boy, there are," he conceded, "but they hide! They run and hide like rats in their holes, and they know they are welcome here no longer!" The crowd cheered, and Harrow paused a moment.

When the cheer died down, he continued: "Yes, we achieved a great thing, but it is not enough my brothers. We must keep working to make Mittelmarch the great city it can be!"

A voice rose out of the crowd, asking "Who do we go after next Harrow? The orcs?" There were shouts of agreement.

"No, my brothers, we do not throw out the orcs," Harrow replied. "At least, not yet. No, we go after a different force, one in the way of our plans for improvement." He paused again, and there was utter silence as they waited for his proclamation.

"Tonight, my brothers, we go after the Crown."

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar wasn't sure if letting Oof go was a good idea, but what else was there to lose. The city he loved was in anarchy, many of the human guard had defected to Devias and many of the non-human left for Moruliima. The city had been split into factions. Harrow's Flock, Defenders, Man Haters, Thieves guild is still down in the sewers, and the City Guard held up in the main keep. We currently hold the most defensible position, but doesn't mean they can't get over these walls and with enough men break through the gate. Both attempts would lead to a lot of death. These are thoughts of that stir in the ogre's head. He sits at the war table in the forum.

"Sir..." A hushed guard speaks.

"Yes, soldier."

"The team has come back with more food and supplies."

"Good."

The guard have been using the old passage out to the Anchor Inn to get supplies in. The entry can only be opened from the inside. Once used for escape for the King.

"The King.." He thought. "Kings are a Joke. So far every King I have served, they have all gave up on their responsibilities."

The voice of Kalimar, and ogre elder, one of his last teachers,

“Stop thinking, boy! Human teach you think too much. Act! Do what must be done, no hesitate! Follow this…” He points to his heart. “…and this!” He points to his gut.

He's right, I'm not human. I'm an ogre and I'm good at one thing.


"I'm going to kill Devias Harrow, but I'm going to need help. Rune you're in charge, I'll be back."

Nichtmar grabs his gear and heads out through the passage. He grabs a shire horse from the stall and rides west.

[oof]

Oof sits in one of the guild houses thinking back on that fateful day with Nichtmar. He remembers screaming at Nichtmar to fight and the Ogres refusal. Thinking of the confrontation he shivers at the emotionless face of the ogre as he ran out the door to find his guild gone to ground and Mittelmarch in chaos. The city he had come to love was slowly dying around him, the mentor who carried him from possessed slave to king of the underground was gone. He reaches out and takes hold of the last volume ever written by Helvaren. Reading the last thing written the great elf "I fear for Mittelmarch if this continues..."

Oof picks up a pen and begins to write.

"I guess i had better continue this chronicle. I am Oof student of Helvaren the Lore Master and also a conservator of antiquity. I wish I was taking over this job under better circumstances, but I am only writing this as a tribute to my friend.

Helvaren, Lore Master of Mittelmarch, Founder of the thieves guild, and the oldest living being in the land, was slain by an assassin's blade the night of the riot. Baethor has left the city with his dwarven comrades, and a human, Devias Harrow now controls the city through fear and tyranny. The guards are either in league with him or terrified to show their faces for fear of being killed. The businesses provided the protection of the guild seem to be fairing better than most, but it is everything we can do simply to keep the number of dead showing up every morning to a minimum.

"Where is the king in all of this?" is the cry in the streets. The answer is not here. King Gron has abandoned the city to chaos and destruction. What little hope remains lies with the few who are willing to stand up to this Harrow. I do not know how long i will be able to continue this chronicle, because it is my intention to fight for this city. I owe that much to Helvaren at the very least."

Oof puts down the stylus and closes the book. Looking over to his lieutenant he says simply "send an emissary to Anvil at the defenders Palisade. It's time we took back our city"

[Anvil]

Anvil and a group of Defenders walk into Cedrics. They have been out patrolling trying their best to keep peace in the city as it falls apart. Unfortuently the fact that they walk around in groups of mixed races didn't always help that cause.

"Okay if we get warm by the fire and have a drink at this late hour?"

Without waiting for an answer he collapses in a nearby chair. It has been a busy few days. The Defenders in the city have been patrolling and building their defenses in their paddock. With the departure of so many dwarves from the city the stonework was going slowly. The food coming from the outside was enough to keep the families who sought refuge with them well fed but he knew that they could be disrupted by the weather this time of the year.

So far the Defenders were still a cohesive group even with the mixed races that made up their numbers, they had fought together long enough to realize that each race has something to contribute to a succesful community.

Anvil watched his followers warm themselves by the fire and hopes they aren't wasting their time trying to hold the city together. Why hasn't the council done something about Gron? It was time to set up a new king or goverment, something strong and willing to stand up to Devias and his goons.

[ziglerrobertson]

"Aye, and a bit more ye shall have if I've a mind." Zigler motions to Carneth and Jed to begin serving Cedric's most recent customers. As drink begins making its way around the room, the Inn Keeper disappears into the back and after a while comes back out carrying plates of sliced meat and half loaves of bread from within the kitchen and stored down in the barrels in the storeroom.

" 'tis only salted pork, and day old bread, but me thinks it shall be welcome" he thinks to himself.

Placing the plates down at each table Zigler nods to the man who had spoken before sitting at the same table.

"Carneth," Zigler says quickly as the younger dwarf begins to walk away after having set a mug of Royal Tillman on the table, "bef'r we close t'night, I'd be likin' ta talk to both you an' Dorian downstairs." Looking over at Anvil Zigler asks, "Tell me weary one, how fair the other parts of this city?"

The Innkeeper asks this with a heavy heart as he has been providing shelter to many non-human families in the rooms on the second floor. These folk were packed shoulder to hoof, including not just the vacant rooms but Storm's old room and even Zigler's. During the nights the dwarf would sleep on the bar top, a bottle not too far away from his fingers. Were it not for Carneth and Stubbie Zigler would long have drunk himself to coma many times over these last few days.

[Anvil]

Anvil downs several swallows of the Tillmans before answering the innkeeper.

"The human sections of the city are starting to look more like armed camps and the demi human areas are becoming more and more vacant and vandalized. I'm making more room in our compound for more families and have my folks outside in the forest building more cabins so we can move those who wish to leave the city a place to go till spring."

Anvil grabs some bread and meat and continues "Zig we have to get the city back under control, we need a strong presence to start pulling us back as a community. Do you have any word on Oof or Nichtmar's plans? Better yet do you know where that stupid goblin who calls himself king is?"

Anvil rises and starts pacing the floor, "If I thought it would do any good I'd declare myself king and force things to a head but I fear I'd be a ruler of a smouldering pile of rubble and corpses!"

[ziglerrobertson]

Zigler hands his now empty mug to Jed as the dwarf passes, receiving a fresh one in return.

"Friend, I know nothing of any bein's plans. Though both Oof and Sir Nichtmar hav' been 'ere and drank an' fed. I know nothin' of there inner thoughts. As fer yer problems, soun's ta me that ye need a man who can stradle both sides o' the river. Someone who be one who da 'uman's would respect an' the non''uman's would follow. As fer bein' King yerself, go fer it, ya ain't gonna be worse than a King that ain't 'ere!" laughs Zigler before looking down into his mug and sighing. "Were it not for the fact that the 'uman's wouldn' ac'ept me I'd 'go for Gold' meself. Bu' not as a King, we've had enough of those. Maybe a Mayor, er a Diktor, is wha' I would be," comments the Inn Keeper.

Meanwhile Jed continues on toward the front of the bar. Leaning on the mantle of the fireplace the Bloodcarver dwarf talks with the men of Anvil's band.

[Anvil]

Anvil sits back down and looks at the innkeeper.

"Most any charismatic being would work as a leader for the city long as Devias and his kind were taken care of. I hate thinking of disposing of someone just becouse of their prejudices but that man just plain needs killed."

Anvil becomes quite and stares into his mug.

[Carneth]

Carneth nodded at Zigler and left the bar. It was late enough in the day that Dorian would probably be out and about, so he went looking for the man immediately. Dorian, however, was nowhere to be found. After wandering around for an hour and checking the rogue's usual haunts, Carneth made his way back to Cedric's. He was just about to tell Zigler that Dorian wasn't to be found when he noticed the man was sitting by the bar.

"We were waiting on you, dwarf," Dorian said.

Carneth was about to retort when he thought better of it, and then just shook his head and muttered to himself. He signaled to Zigler that he and Dorian would be in the cellar, waiting for the innkeeper to join them and explain what he wanted.

[Baethor]

((OOC)) I should point out baethor is the only dwarf that has left the city at this time.)


*A few nights earlier*

"Skirvir! Fjallnir! HYAH!"

A sharp crack of the reigns on his wagon as it races towards the edge of the great wood. The sun now begins to peek over the horizon as Baethor pushes westward towards the iron mountains. He continually peers over his shoulders to make sure he was not followed.

Finally breaking through the white and black forest the first yellow rays of sunlight begin to pour over the open fields ahead of him. He slows his pair of rams to a trot and continues on his way. Watching his back as his mind races about his preparation. The azoth gate and the books he nicked from helvaryns library cozied in the satchel over his shoulder, he knows he will have his work cut out for him in the coming days...He can only hope that peace can be maintained until he finishes his work....


the day passes without incident, if anyone was following baethor they'd have given themselves up once he past the treeline, the dwarf's cart rumbles it way down a path used by the dwarves to reach the quarry. Taking a sharp turn down an unmarked path his wagon bumps and jostles as his rams pull him uphill. Soon he reaches the foot of one of many small mountains within the range and he knows he's found it again... Setting loose his rams he gets to the task of finding the entrance again.

It takes him almost no time to spot the cleft down the mountains southern face. A small gap, large enough for perhaps a child or a small animal to squeeze through. a small indentation, nearly worn away in the stone, sits next to it. Baethor reaches in his satchel and pulls out a small riverstone, ringed in runes, and sets the stone in the indentation. the ground underhim shifts and grumbles as if a giant was lazily waking up, and what was a gap barely large enough for a child crack and spreads opening into a hallway, who's end dissapears deep into the mountain. "Well...Time to unpack and get te work."

[ziglerrobertson]

Quickly Zigler nods across the table to Anvil, then catches Jed's eye as he too disappears into the kitchen and then down the stairs to the cellar, closing each door after himself. Once downstairs Zigler nearly runs into the backs of both Carneth and Dorian as they stare at the human chained, hand and foot on the large stone table in the center of the room. The woman's clothing is in taters and she has various small cuts and bruises, further turned a sickly pale green by the softly glowing crystal cube apparently glued to her forehead. The shackles give off a lustrous shine, as if they've been polished and well cared for for years.

The dwarf passes between both men, startling Carneth back to reality as Dorian resumes his normal unflustered demeanor, as he reaches for the cleaver laying down beside the chained man.

Tapping the sharp edge in the palm of his left hand Zigler looks at both his.....compatriots, "During teh Jovian War, I was privileged to pass 'long information an' supplies to those fightin' fer our freedom. Now, we face a new enemy, one from wit'in our verry ranks. None of us, ken go into the 'uman parts o' the city now wit' out bein' watched. We, here, need ta know what Devias and his ilk are plannin'."

Zigler pulls the cleaver down sharply across his palm drawing blood. His hand bleeding freely now the demon dwarf's eyes begin to glow as drops fall onto the green crystal and upon the womans forehead. The captive moans softly as the cube slowly begins to turn red and emit a strong, red light.

"Laddies," addresses Zigler to the standing men, "Let me introduce you to someone you may have met. her names Sara and she's one of the few Jovian's remaining after ye both helped me slaughter her kin. After her man left 'er, she began to live en da 'uman parts o' the city, mostly drinkin' at the Silvermoon when she weren't in someones bed. She's close to Devias' group o' picked men. Knowing she was a Jovian, they prolly welcomed 'er with opened harms an' stiff peckers. Sara knows what Devias' plans next, don't you SARA!"

Over the last few minutes the woman achieved full wakefulness, "Yes I know what he plan's you half breed piece of filth, and I'll never tell you!" she screams. Both Carneth and Dorian jump slightly at her anger while Zigler simply smiles, raises the cleaver.......and hacks off her left hand at the forearm. Raku's eyes widen as she feels the pain and as Zigler lifts up her severed hand, showing it to her. Despite these actions Dorian's eyes remain fixed on the unbleeding cut while Carneth's looks remarkably unsettled for a warrior of his years..

"Lassie, all yer red bedeviled kin folk said the same thing, they All were talkin' in the end," says Zigler as he drops the severed limb and then snaps his fingers. Sara is instantly, if not without pain, unconscious. The demon bard return's his atteion to the other folks in the room.

"And she will be talkin' I'm sure o' that. What I brung you both down here fer though was fer a diff'rent matter. I need yer help in bringing in Devias' lieutenants one by bloody one." Zigler's eyebrow quirks as he asks both men," Are ye in laddies?"

[Carneth]

Carneth backed away unsteadily.

"I'm gonna need a minute, Zig. Hope ye understand," he said. The older dwarf nodded at him, and Carneth headed up to the upstairs room that Zigler had lent him.

The Innkeeper had put the young dwarf in a tough position. Do I help him? he asked himself. Zigler's a dwarf, a brother. He's never led me wrong before. An' I already helped him kill the Jovians a'fore now. Can this really be any diff'rent? He slumped down just inside his room, and pulled out the signet ring Baethor gave him the other night. This ring held power. This ring meant he was the acting Duk'rik of the Bri'Ak-Duraz. Turning his mind back to Zigler, he decided he could not aid his friend. Not this time, me brother. I helped ye once, but if I'm gonna lead the dwarves I can't help ye now.

He stood up and headed back down to the cellar.

[Dorian Prior]

Dorian took in the scene probably a bit better than he should have. He was no stranger to witnessing such perverse actions; his former guild had in it's employ several torturers, men uncapable of conscience or moral reasoning. He only hoped for his friend that Zigler wasn't past either yet.

While he was momentarily surprised by the lack of bloodloss on the victim's part, he quickly realized that some form of magicka was in play and soon lost interest. Glowing baubles rarely interested him.

"I was aware of your previous actions against the Jovians, and I know it was quite a useful tactic. Unfortunately, my time is spent hunting down the murderer or murderers who started this all in the first place. I may already have a lead, in fact."

Carneth, who had left a moment before, was making his way down the steps once more.

"Though I may not be able to help you now, I wish you the best of luck. And be sure to keep me informed of any information you think may help me in my search. This lead I have is not likely to be the last one, unfortunately."

Dorian bid the dwarves farewell, and left them to talk in the cellar. As he left the Inn, he quickly darted into a nearby alley and made his departure from the place as discreetly as possible.

[Carneth]

As Carneth passed Dorian on the stairs, he wondered if the man had volunteered to help Zigler. It doesn't matter he decided. Dorian's choice was none of his concern.

He faced Zigler over the slab and it's unconscious occupant. His tone was resolute. "I'm sorry, brother, but I can't help ye this time. Baethor asked me t' lead the dwarves while he's gone, and I can't be caught helpin' ye, ye understand." Carneth paused as he fingered the signet ring in his pocket. "I can't be helpin' ye, but I won't be tellin' ye' what t' do, neither. So I'm not tellin' ye t' report to me what ye find." He winked at Zigler and left the cellar, making a point to ignore his surroundings.

At the top of the stairs he put on the ring, and flagged down another dwarf as he left Cedric's. He gave the dwarf a small stone and spoke to him in dwarvish. "Gather our brothers and meet me at the clan hall. This stone will let you enter." The dwarf nodded and ran off. Carneth pulled up his hood and walked off into the darkness. There was work to be done.

[ziglerrobertson]

Tossing the now useless limb over his shoulder and against the back wall, Zigler sighs, "Whelp lass, it looks like its just you an' me." He looks down at Sara considering what to do next, reliving the other times when Jove's soldier were the only ones on this table, back when Cathan was around and the world seemed a lil simpler.

"A-HA!" shouts Zigler as he remembers a few other things from back then. Quickly wiping the cleaver and applying a bandage to his hand the inn Keeper returns upstairs and, after refreshing everybody's drink, sits back down across from Anvil.

"Ye seem a right salwart an' upstandin' figure of a man. Suppose I tell ye were you can lay hands on, an' secure some o' the larger stockpiles o' weapon's left over from da jovian Warz? Would ye be willing to use them ta help keep the peace in this hear city?" Zigler quirks his left eyebrow after the question as laugheter and the sound of Jed clearing his throat, breaks out behind him.

"Now Laddies, I be from a land were the ground did move, constantly. Ye may not h've seen it, but tis called the sea. And here is one o' our more stirring songs, since ye all be in the mood fer death. With that, the Bloody Cap dwarf winks and then breaks into song, causing some of his audience to hold more tightly onto their mugs.

Another day goes by, another setting sun
As the light begins to fade
Upon this silent ship I now chart a course
Yet no wind blows these tattered sails
For reasons lost to time, that I cannot recall
Alone I sail the endless seas
The hands of fate have slain the crew, my only friends
And soon this doom will come for me

And I look back and wonder
Of the times we once shared

I stand here alone on the bow of the ship
Counting the hours 'til I die
Abandoned to fate with no chance of return
I raise up my fist to the sky
But know that these days were the best of our lives
And nothing can take that away
So when we are dead we will all meet again
And fight to the end of our days

Many years have I wandered
Alone and afraid
It seems now I've found a reason to live
As I stare at my grave
...
And I know that the end comes
There's no reason to be scared

I stand here alone on the bow of the ship
Counting the hours 'til I die
Abandoned to fate with no chance of return
I raise up my fist to the sky
But know that these days were the best of our lives
And nothing can take that away
So when we are dead we will all meet again
And fight to the end of our days

(Song taken from Alestom's album Black Sails at Midnight, To The End of Our Days.)

[Anvil]

Anvil perks up at the mention of the stockpiled weapons.

"Aye, I could use them to help arm some of the refugees we have and better outfit some of our new recruits. Are they close by?"

[ziglerrobertson]

" A fair amount be close, wit' in a days walk er ride. Da remainin' supplies be strung out between here an' the city of Moruliima, formerly know as Jove. It'll proba'ly be a might rusted by now, but there should still be somethin' worth salvagin'. If'n ye've got a map I len mark down where most o' em are," say Zigler before taking a deep draft of his beer.

[Anvil]

Anvil looks over and motions to one of his men and the man retrieves a map from his pouch and hands it to the commander. After unrolling the map and producing a vail of in and quill he motions for Zigler to make the indications of the weapon stores.

"There aren't any traps around them are there" Anvil ask as he sits back and resumes working his mug.

[Devias Harrow]

Harrow found himself, as he often did, lost in thought. His campaign had progressed well, but he had finally run into an obstacle he could not brush aside. His forces had not been successful in their attempt to scare the King and his guards into relinquishing their power. I really don't want to have to make them leave by force, he thought to himself, but the goblin and his supporters are not leaving me any choice. Yes, their resistance is forcing us to act violently. I just wish we were strong enough in number to accomplish this task more easily.

Harrow began circulating strategies through his mind as he oversaw the daily concerns of his operation. He wasn't one for giving up when he put his mind to something, but when he realized he was considering sneaking his troops into the palace disguised as washerwomen he took a break from his musings. He was chuckling to himself when one of his lieutenants knocked on his door.

"Enter."

"My lord Harrow, a young orc has arrived asking for parlay. Shall I drive him off?"

Harrow, however, was intrigued. "No, don't," he replied quickly. "Let's see what this monster has to say."

The orc turned out to be more of a half-orc, and while Harrow could tell the youngling had more man in him than orc, the lad could not have passed for human. Still, it was a sophisticated and thoughtful gesture. "Diplomacy? Politics?" Harrow smiled and wondered aloud, "And here I thought they were incapable of it." This drew a few laughs from the Flock and a scowl from the orcish lad. In truth though, Harrow was even more interested than before. "Come with me, youngling," he said. "We can talk in a more private setting." A group of guards made to follow him, but Harrow waved all of them away aside from his lieutenant. He wasn't sure he wanted this meeting to be in the public eye.

"So what message do you bring me, young one?"

The orc boy was very nervous, being surrounded by so many enemies. He put on the bravest face he could muster. "Devias Harrow, I bring you an invitation from my master, Burz. He wishes to meet with you in private and discuss the future of Mittelmarch. The location of this meeting is written here," he said, handing Harrow a note. With that, the boy remained silent. Harrow nodded at his lieutenant and the man opened the door again. The orc boy practically ran out of the room.

"You can't be thinking of meeting this Burz monster, can you my lord?" His lieutenant asked when the door was secure again.

"Oh, indeed I am, my friend," he said, reading the note. "In fact, I plan on it."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dusk fell and a light rain coated Mittelmarch in a soft sheen. A hooded man exited the back door of The Goblin's Head. He made his way circuitously, making sure he was not followed, until he reached the proper location.

Harrow lowered his hood and took stock of the meeting place. Burz had chosen well. This meeting would be private indeed.

A large orc stepped out of the shadows, and faced the man. The orc was so burly that Harrow was surprised he could have hidden in any shadow. His hand tensed on the long dagger he carried at his waist. For the first time in a while, Harrow was afraid. It looked like he had walked into a trap.

He sized up his opponent. This orc stood taller than all but the tallest of men, and looked to be as strong as an ogre. He had jagged tusks that jutted from his bottom lip, and a thick scar on his scalp from some old battle wound. He carried no weapon, though it looked like the only weapon he'd ever needed was his fists. Harrow began to draw his dagger when the orc spoke.

"Calm yourself, Devias Harrow," he said. The orc's voice was not the snarling growl Harrow had expected, but a deep, rumbling bass. He spoke with confidence and authority. "I'm not here to kill you."

Harrow let go of his dagger. "Nor I you, Burz of the orcs," he said proudly. "Tell me then, for what purpose did you invite me here?"

[ziglerrobertson]

Zigler looks down at the map and marks various locations before replying, "None to mah knowledge lad, but bored students an' privates sometimes fin' interestin' ways to pass their time. I'd be careful, but no' to expect any surprises at every point."

Putting down the pen Zigler reaches for his beer, but before he can take another drink a young dwarf comes up to him and speaks softly to the Inn Keeper, "The Duk'rik wishes you to attend an emergency meeting at the hall."

Zigler looks at the young dwarf and then at Anvil, "Anvil mah new friend, it pains me ta say it but I must be going. I'd appreciate it greatly if you and yer men would stay here and help Jed keep an eye on ta place."

[Anvil]

Anvil looks up distractedly from the map and nods "Of course we will be happy to, warmer here than that route we've been walking most of the night. besides it won't be much longer till dawn anyway."

After the dwarf excuses himself Anvil returns to his thoughts, the old life as a pictish warrior returning. The city is ripe for a takeover and with the weapons stores shown on the map he and his could pull it off, but could he do it somehow without seeming like an invading force, and could he force a peace without to much bloodshed? He would have to discuss it with some of his followers later back at the palisade.

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar finally rode up to the Dragonwind Station near the Kyuden.

He dismounted and walked up to the goblin at the desk.

"Mr. Goblin?"

"Eh, what do you want? er I mean How...can...I help you?"

"Do you deliver messages?"

"Aye, Destination?"

"Dragoon Camp, Northern Steppes."

"er... they like to kill my friends!"

Nichtmar drops a sack of gold on the desk. The goblin peeks into the bag.

"No problem."

"Thank you, Lord Goblin."



About an hour or so later...

Nichtmar rides up to the Mittelmarch main gate. The portcullis is jammed open with random debri. The entrance is divided in two. Silvermoon rubble and other trash has been used to to divide the city with a couple of openings for those brave enough to enter the territories.

One entrance says "Human Only" and the other "Die Pinkys".

The ogre walks his shire horse through the human side. Signs of Harrow for King are posted throughout. Four humans with shields and swords form in his path.

"You must turn back or die!" Yells one.

Nichtmar ignores him and looks to one of the other men.

"Daek, what on earth are you doing."

Daek's eyes down cast, "Sorry Sir, I kind of got stuck here and the Non-humans wouldn't let me get through to get to the barracks. It was join or starve."

"I'll take you home. Get on."

Daek ditches the shield and sheaths the sword.

"Daek, get back here!" orders a man.

Nichtmar swings Daek up behind him, rears the horse and they take off through town. They head for one of the border openings where a pac of orcs and goblins are standing guard. They aren't soldiers, and Nichtmar knows this. He grabs his sword and stands in his stirrups charging for the group. There weak wall folds and they scatter out of the way as the shire horse strides through the streets. Eventually they make it to the main keep as the guards open and close the gate behind them. Daek gets off and joins his ranks. Nichtmar heads out to Cedrics. He noticed defenders posted there.

A few minutes later...

Nichtmar walks into Cedrics. "Lord Anvil, you once led a Kingdom, you now lead the Defenders. Mittelmarch now requires your leadership to get us through these dark times. My strength is on a battlefield, and this is a type of war I do not know. Command me and I will echo your command to the Mittelmarch Guard."

Nicthmar extends his hand for a warriors hand shake.

[Anvil]

Anvil finds himself at a loss when he hears the knights words. he finally rises and takes the big mans hands in a firm clasp. Anvil motions for the ogre to join him at the table nd sits back down.

"I know this must be hard for you and after we secure the city and the safety of it's people we can decide how we want to proceed on who will lead the city afterwards. But the city needs to be brought back to a sembalance of normalcy first. Is the council behind you in this and how long will it take for you to consolidate your troops in the keep? We need to coordinate your men and mine in a sychronized show of force against the several fractions in the city at the moment. "

Anvil pulls out some parchment and starts writing down things as he speakes.

"We will need scribes to make several parchments to post around the city with the following..
Be it known to all that as of this point any citizen commiting a violent act against another will be forcibly detained and sentenced to hard labor. Any armed mobs are hearby ordered to disband and all barricades in the city are forbidden and must be dismantled immediatly.
All citizens are expected to return to work and be assured that the city council will have an announcement soon about the leadership of the city.

After handing the parchment to the knight Anvil continues,

"Yours and mine will stike out at the same time in two large forces to start posting the signs and tearing down barricades. We will need to be ready to show force and possibly put down some small groups who oppose us, violently if need be to discourage others from trying to emulate them."

Anvil scribbles a few more lines on a seperate parchemnt and hands it to one of his men. "See to it at once"

The man unrolls the sheet and reads
Find Oof, we will need to get his support for this for it to fully succed. Also make sure we get troops out to secure the weapon stores on the map.

[Sir Nichtmar]

"I will have my men make that happen."

Nichtmar gives a nod to Zig, " Ziggy! Good to see ya! Got anything to wet these parched lips!? Preferably something that comes in a tall mug!"

[Anvil]

Anvil rises from the table and motions for his men to make ready to leave.

"I have a lot to prepare for, I beg your leave Sir knight. I will send word on the date we sally forth, it shouldn't be more than a day or so."