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

[Carneth]

Carneth inwardly winced as he made his way through the hall where the Bri'Ak-Duraz staying. He couldn't bring himself to think of it as hiding, but the truth was that they were doing exactly that. He opened the door to the Council room to find that the elder dwarves were already there waiting for him. The Duk'rik was supposed to be the one in charge of these councils, but Carneth had been summoned to this one for a change. He could only figure the other dwarven leaders had something on their minds. He had barely sat down when the formalities were completed, but that wasn't unusual. Dwarves only really cared about getting things done.

"I know what ye would ask of me," Carneth said before any of the others could speak. "And ye know I agree. We need t' get our families out of this Hall. The weeks we've spent here have been tryin' for all o' us. But we need t' decide where t' go first. Do we go t' the mountains, after Baethor?"

"Not to the mountains," replied a white-bearded dwarf. "Not yet. Our families are rooted in Mittelmarch, and we should stay if we are able."

Carneth's hands played with the signet ring on his finger absently. It had been weeks, but the ring never seemed comfortable on his hand. "Then we need t' find a way t' leave these halls," he said. "Send for Alfo, the halflin'. I need someone t' talk t' this Burz, so the two o' us can meet."

[ziglerrobertson]

It was weeks ago when Anvil had walked into Cedric's and asked what Zigler knew about both Harrow and Burz. Since then the answer had not changed much.

"Harrow's be a sneaky ass," Zigler replied to Anvil, "ye can be sure he'll try plannin' a couple or three steps ahead o' himself whilst he's got the power o' the mob behind 'em. As fer Burz...I know not o' this monster. He may be a recent arrival ta the city, er he may have been here for a year an a day as far as I know."

With the completion of the tunnels and passages underneath the Inn and other important area's of the city (including the Palace, the Goblin's Head and the Defender's Tower), the traffic of customers, and the occasional 'notes' form friends very little had been worthy of mention during the Biumvirate's first few weeks of rule. In fact the information Zigler gleaned from some of the Inn's more 'permanent' residents indicated a normalizing of the city as a whole......or two wholes....

[Anvil]

Anvil sat brooding looking over the city from the tower wall. No one had tried to force the defenders from the outer tower along the wall and his people had fortified this section of wall and tower in case of outside attack.

Maybe it's time to go see what the ogre is up to, I need to get out of the city for a bit or this rancor will eat me up. Our defenses are ready here now and we have enough folks here to keep most anybody from attacking our new stronghold. Anvil straightened up feeling better to at least have something to do besides brood over the state of the city.

Heading down to get his horse Anvil calls for a couple of volunteers to go with him out of the city.

[Anvil]

Looking over the Dragoon camp Anvil was impressed. Several groups were sparring and drilling in the open fields, the tents and building were arranged with an eye towards defense and of course the eyes of the sentries hidden around camp had been on Anvil and his few men well before the camp had come in site.

Anvil urged his mount forward to enter the camp and see how the ogre knight was fairing.

[Sir Nichtmar]

The day was warm and the snow had melted making the ground soft and squashy. The ogre was lightly dressed as they lifted up a wall of the future barracks. As he saw Anvil, he started to walk away. The other man started to loose the wall.

Several men, "Wo, wo, wo..."

Nichtmar grinned and jumped back into position. "Humans.." he laughed as the put the wall in place.

He ran over to Anvil as Brom allowed him to enter. He shook his arm and patted his back.

"It's good to see ya, Lord Anvil."

He gestures behind him, "What ya think?"

[Anvil]

Anvil smiled and returned Nichtmar's greeting and said "Tis a fine and defensible encampment my friend. You could hold off a horde of goblins and a dragon or two I'd think. "

Anvil swings down from the horse and stretches, "do you happen to have a drink for a weary traveler?"

[Anvil]

As Anvil walks with Nichtmar he ask "So what are your plans, are you going to stay here indefinetly or do you plan on returning to the city?"

[Baethor]

Meanwhile, in the forest...

There is a difference between Silent, and Quiet. Silence is soft breathing, quiet is breath held tightly. Silence is the sound of a world at peace, sure of the next days sunrise. Quiet is the sound of fear, anticipation of something terrible about to happen...

Tonight the forest is quiet...

A metallic clank, a shreiking howl broken before it can finish. Then the tromp of leather boots heavily moving through the forest. Baethor the dwarf has spent many weeks away from mittelmarch, hiding in a Bri'Ak Duraz stronghold in the mountains west of mittelmarch. But tonight he has been hunting...

Breaking the treeline at the base of the mountain the stocky dwarf carries a bundle over his shoulders, a vicious looking trap resembling the fangs of a great beast in one hand, his runestone in the other. He places it to the nearly unnoticeable indentation in the rock face, and stoically marches back into his lair, the mountain opening wide to welcome him once again, then rumbling shut behind him.

he takes his parcel down the winding corridors until he reaches a series of doorways and alcoves. He walks into his workshop shaking off the brisk night chill in the warmth of his forge. Gingerly he sets the linen bundle on his shoulders down onto a stone table and unwraps it. The gnoll is unconcious, but alive. Baethor see's to binding its leg, not bothering to splint it. "Better if ye cannae run laddie...I'll need ya later..."
[shadow=red,left,300]blood...[/shadow]
Hoisting the gnoll onto his shoulders again he walks through an archway, down another tunnel, and into what could best be described as a holding cell...Other gnolls sit against the wall, chained at the throat, wrists and feet to the very mountain itself. They make no noise as Baethor enters and sets down his newest aquisition, chaining him in turn like his mongrel kin. He turns to look over the rest of the gnolls who cringe away from him as his eyes pass over them. He snorts his disgust at the measures he is forced to take to preserve his home...
[shadow=red,left,300]kill them...[/shadow]
Baethor returns to his workshop and collapses into a stone chair. Wiping his brow he reaches over to a nearby countertop and retrieves a journal.

"Another gnoll captured, as long as i can keep them alive i should have enough to complete the ritual. Now i must focus on finishing the lock so that the key may be applied.

Baethor sets down the the journal again and sits for a long moment in his chair, staring at the glowing forge. He takes up the journal and quill again.

"It has been to long since i've had word from mittelmarch or the dragoons. On the morrow i will leave for the silver meadow to see what Sir Nichtmar has learned, if he knows nothing then i may have to sneak into mittelmarch to find my brothers and form a plan.

[shadow=red,left,300]need...blood...[/shadow]

The dwarf places his face in his hands and rubs his eyes. He's not sure how long its been since he's slept. So much work to be done...a howl echoes down the corridor and the dwarf knows his new pet is awake. he reaches for a foot long spike of iron and places the tip of it in the forge until it is white hot, pulling it from the heat he moves back down the corridor, towards the sound of the howling. entering the room the gnoll snarls and tugs at the chains at his neck, wrists and feet. Baethor is grim as he approaches the gnoll, spike in hand... "Sorry boy...But i need you silent..."



The howls die off against the stone...and the mountain is quiet again...


(ooc: i enjoy comments or suggestions :3 )

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar walks Anvil over to the well and reals up a bucket of cool water. "Fill your cups and your thirst."

He pauses to think, "The people spoke, both sides made peace and they wanted the guard out, so I dispersed the guard. Some stayed, some became Dragoons, some became defenders, and some just left."

"I've dealt with tribal warfare on Torranmar. Last I left there was a peace, but it will not last. The Tor will eventually always want more and that peace will be broken. Such is the way."

The ogre sips some water.

"It's the same here. This human wants something more and he will kill for it. When he does, the Dragoons will crush him."

[Anvil]

Anvil nods "I understand, and you may be right, but I'll stay in town as long as I can to try to keep the innocents safe."

Aftter finishing a long drink of the refreshing water he continues "If you need any help give me a shout and we will be there. I'm sure though you won't need it. But with us still being inside the city we can provide plenty of diversions"

"I'll be leaving soon for our woodland camp, apparently we have had several new people join our ranks and I want to look in on their training. But I had to check and see what you are up to, can't be to careful with you knights. " Anvil jokes as he punches the ogres arm.

[Sir Nichtmar]

"Aye, and you may call on us when need be. I'm sure there will be another time where we are sharing the battlefield."

"It's not the knight you need worry bout, it's the ogre." Nichtmar doesn't smile or jest with the statement, he looks intently over his men. Concern and then pride as he looks them over.

"Ah, but anyway I have heard your numbers grow. This is good."

[Anvil]

"Aye, we grow, but it seems our enemies grow faster I fear"

Anvil notices the lack of humor in the ogre and assumes it has to do with leaving the city. He motions the man over holding the reins of his horse.

"My friend may your sword arm remain strong and your foes few"

[Sir Nichtmar]

"Take care, Lord Anvil!"

"Tell that wife of yours to keep her arrows pointed elsewhere!"

"Ah, the daughters too!"

[Baethor]

Pushing his way through the forest and fog of the early morning Baethor finally slips through the treeline and can finally make out the silver glade ahead of him. He can smell the campfires already, and see's the dragoon symbol emblazoned on the shields of the men watching the borders.

"HALT! Identify yourself!" One of the soldiers demands.

"I'm Baethor Thunderblood, and i have business with sir Nichtmar."

The gaurd recognizes the name, and points him in the direction of Nichtmars house. "He should be in there, he may even be awake. This mittelmarch business has been keeping him on edge recently, the cheiftan has hardly gotten any sleep." "Ai, i think most of us can sympathize..."

Baethor suddenly felt the weight on his shoulders at the mention of sleep. His skin was pale and slack on his bones. But there is just to much yet to prepare. Baethor and the gaurdsmen make their way to nichtmars hut...

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar says, "Coffee" as he steps out of his door and stretches.

Brom snapped out of his daze as he grabbed the pot and poured some coffee into a clay cup. He also snatched a handful of bacon that was sizzling on the iron grate over the fire.

"Ow, ow, ow." Brom blows the the hot bacon in his hand and rushes to his chieftain.

"Here, sir."

"Thanks, now go wake the men up." Brom shuffles off.

He shoves a piece of bacon in his mouth as he sees Baethor approaching.

"Bay-for chop chop Goo- num num see you."

He shoves the rest of the bacon in and glurps some coffee. Embraces his long missed dwarf.

He finally swallows it down. "What the hell brings you to the Silver Meadow!?"

[Baethor]

"Ah well ya know, i figured a vacation from the caves would be a good idea fer a few days." Baethor and Nichtmar laugh and exchange pleasantries, just like old times, as if they were back at cedrics. Baethor helps himself to some coffee, better then his grog for staving off exhaustion.

"Come on ogre, there is news to discuss, lets step inside for a bit, away from prying ears."

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar and Baethor go into the barn, where they can have a private conversation. A white wolf runs up tail wagging. "Sit." Stone sits. "Shake." His paw lands in the ogres hand. "Good Boy..." He pats his head and tosses him his last piece of bacon. "Go..." Stone treads off happily.

"What news do you have, friend?"

[Baethor]

"Not much out of mittelmarch i'm afraid, i havnt heard from me brothers in the city in some time. I was hoping you would know what the situation is inside the city."

Baethor slowly takes a sip of his coffee.

"but on my end, the time in the mountains has served well. In fact i may have a way to save the city if we can get harrow, burz and their men OUT of the city."

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar rubs the nose of one of the young shire horses a he listens.

"Hmm well the city seems to have its mind made. They don't want our protection and truthfully the Meadow keeps me busy enough. Finally I can conentrate on Dragoon business. Now if the Warlords wish for control over Mittelmarch, we will sieze it. Till then to hell with em."

[Baethor]

Baethor opened his mouth in protest, but the words died in his throat. Sighing he takes a deep drink of his coffee. "i still dont trust harrow... I'll be in the city after the sun sets, i need to speak with my brothers...and possibly oof if i can find him. Since the dragoons are content staying here, i'll leave you to yer work. But keep yer ears and eyes open on the city. i'm going ta see how well i can stir things up."

[Sir Nichtmar]

"Brother, don't get me wrong, I love Mittelmarch. When the Dragoons are welcome into the city, we shall return. My position with the former Guard has branded me an outcast. My rogues tell me that Harrow has a new army. Any old officers are wanted men."

He kneels down to eye level, "If you go in, keep your hood up."

[Incognito]

Meanwhile in the City.

Jereb the Accountant walks into Cedric's Inn. He's a well dressed human and when he strolls in his eyes full of judgement. Behind him his assistant trips in through the doorway.

Jereb steps up to the bar, careful not to touch anything.

"Where is the owner of this establishment?"

[ziglerrobertson]

Zigler finishes wiping a glass, setting it on a shelf behind the bar, he walks over to the man. Despite this 'Jereb's' well dressed clothes and snooty manner the Inn Keeper tries to be as welcoming as he usually is to any newcomer.

"That'd be me lad. An what can I be gettin' to quench yer thirst fer the night?" As he speaks Zigler wipes his hands on a clean bar rag before proffering it to the man.

[Incognito]

He pushes up his glasses, "Oh no sir, I am not here to partake in...your...food."

He snaps his fingers and his assistant starts shuffling through scrolls in his pack. Snap. Snap!

"I am Jareb Cobblebottom and I am here on behalf of the city. Lord Harrow has put me in charge of Mittelmarch's finances and...well you'd think they had been handled by a hill giant or something..."

He takes the scroll and lays it on the bar.

"Now, Mr Zigler, correct? You are behind on your taxes...very behind...see you owe the city 8,400 gold. You have a month to pay this sum or we will close down your establishment."

[Baethor]

"Aye, thanks for the advice. Not that i was planning on marchin' in through the main gates mind ye...The veterans are wanted huh? That could work to our favor if we move quickly... Right. I should be on my way ogre, on foot the sun will already be setting by the time i can make it into anchors bay. I'll be safe if i can get that far."

The ogre nodded and clasped the dwarfs forearm, pulling him in for a warriors hug. "Take care brother. Dont get yourself killed." "Same ta you brother. I'll send word if i learn anything inside."

The ogre tried to convince his stocky companion to take a horse or a pony, but the dwarf staunchly refused. "Eh, i cant get in till night anyways. An' i can draw less attention without one o yer beasts." The ogre laughed and gave baethor a waterskin and some provisions for the road then the dwarf began his trek towards mittelmarch.