Landon Town (IC)

Location: The Government House, which houses all of the officials of the occupying forces of the Empire. Specific room: Sir Richard's Bedchamber.

Day the Tenth of The Month Of Newmark

It is with some regret that I leave Landon Town, upon the morrow. Five years, ago, when I first received this posting, I cursed being sent to some frontier seaport. I cursed the stupid nepotism that allowed others to steal my position of commander of the royal guards, and then threw me into outer darkness, so that I could not pursue my case before the Emperor.

I have been surprised to learn that I love Landon Town. It is a simple, small city of only a thousand or so souls. After a lifetime living in the Imperial City, it seemed as small as a village to me, when I first arrived. Still, I have grown to realize how much life can thrive in such a small place.

The town is not much to look at. There is a small wooden palisade on a cliff, overlooking the beach. From there, my soldiers would look out over the sea, watching for invasions. We only had eight 20 lbs cannons to defend it with, but that was enough for the few foolish Zarin that would venture to close.

The houses and workshops are all simple wooden affairs, with thatched roofs. I have been surprised by their durability though, in the face of the truly horrible storms that can come in from the Green Sea. There is a small church, which is actually built of stone. It was in disrepair when I arrived, but my men set it to rights. There is a pub, of course, with the usually activities. It has been quite beneath me, though I feel some inclination to get drunk tonight, if only this one time. There is a wind power mill, and a few small farms. The income comes mostly from the wharf and the fishing fleet that Landon Town is know for. It was a simple fishing village at first, but has grown into something of a way-station for merchant ships traveling along the coast.

The people are the real gem of this town. I did not know what decent and hardworking people peasants were, until I was forced to work with them. My life has been a sheltered one, for all the battles I have waged. I have worked to fight off invaders along side weathered fishermen. I have been in bucket brigades for hours on end, trying to save the home of a poor family. I have seen the kindness, and sometimes pettiness, that a tiny city like this can have, between its citizens.

Now, the Empire is in trouble. She finds herself being mauled at her Northern boarder, because the Emperor, gods grant him long life, has listened to the counsel of foolish and malicious advisers and cronies. I, and my men, have been ordered to withdraw. My men have intermarried with local women. Some have children. I, myself, have a pretty girl I have been courting. Her father is the mayor and had intentions to bless our union. Some might have thought it a shame if I married a commoner, but I have seen how uncommon she is.

She will not come with me. My heart breaks, but I must let it, rather than have my vows of loyalty break instead.

There will only been the town militia, of some two hundred fit souls, to defend against invasion. The evil Zarin have been attacking more and more frequently, though we blow their long boats from the water. They have actually managed to land some boats, and assault some of the outlying houses and farms. They are an ugly race of savages, who paint their naked bodies, before going into battle. Their boats are little more than overgrown canoes, and they have no sense of a proper sail, but still they manage to cross from their damned island and assault us! Assault us? No.... assault them, for as of the morrow, I will no longer be one of them.

They will all die now. My troops were all that held back the darkness. Already the priestesses are praying, and talking of offering proper human sacrifices to the gods, but it will not be enough. I have left every pistol and musket I can spare, along with a few casks of gun power. It is a futile measure. My love will die cursing the Empire. I pray that she does not die cursing my name.

http://www.storycrafter.com/cgfx/new/3a244e326e2d0b529044b8b1fc6f41da.jpg

Sophia looked up from the journal with tears in her serious blue eyes. She stared over at Richard of Lent, Commander of the 14th Batallion of the Hononite Empire. His ruggedly handsome face looked older today, than his forty two years. His thick brown hair was speckled with grey and he seemed to have gained wrinkles over night. His scared, muscular frame, seemed leaner than she remembered, as if he had not been eating. They had been casual lovers for six months, since her dear husband's death in battle. She knew his body, and she feared for the changes she saw in it.

http://www.storycrafter.com/cgfx/new/938ee407d50128af00138a515efe236b.jpg

The morning sun was streaming through the window of his bed chamber, and playing across the stone floor. He lay stretched out the wide, four poster, half covered by a linen sheet. His beard had been growing for three days, without signs of a razor, and his eyes were red and swollen. He stared back at her.

"Richard, you can not mean this! Hedra loves you. The people love you. Even I love you, in my way. Tell me that you do not mean this!" She set the journal down on his dressing table, with a thump.

Richard tried to smile. "I meant it, when I wrote it. For fuck's sake." He had barely slept, and had been up before the sun, scratching in his journal, while Sophia slept on. "What am I supposed to do Soph?" He stared at her in turn. She was a lovely, pale woman, with long, blond hair that framed her tall neck and finely crafted face. She sat at his dressing table wearing only her glorious hair. He could see her small, but perfectly crafted breasts reflected in the mirror. Her nipples were tiny pink flower buds, which his tongue knew well.

He had always admired her, and valued her opinion, when she had been the wife of his second in command, Brock Lessings. When Brock had fallen in battle, he had taken her care seriously enough to take Brock's place in her bed, a few times per month. She had inherited Brock's estate, which was modest, but suitable for a minor lady of standing, but she would not keep it, if she could not provide a male heir, or did not remarry, within two years. She had no desire to remarry, so Richard had tried to help her sire an heir. It was his duty as Brock's friend, and soon he found it to be his pleasure as well.

When he had started to court Hedra, the mayor's fresh flower of a daughter, she had know of his affair with Sophia. She had not been entirely pleased, but she knew that Richard was a man of honor. He had promised to continue the affair, until a heir was sired. With Hedra's blessing, the affair went on, as before. Hedra insisted, at times, in joining them, since she still felt some jealousy, and wanted to keep an eye on the goings on. She did not mind Richard making love to Sophia, but she did not want them to fall in love. Richard found it awkward, at times, to find himself the third wheel in the bed, since the two women took so much delight in pleasing each other. They always seemed to reach out for him, after he had watched a bit, and he found that the watching helped to replentish his own flagging desire.

Sophia stood, and crossed over to him slowly. The sunlight light up her white skin, like an angel. Framed against the somber wooden paneled walls, she seemed to glow. Richard felt like an divine messenger was indeed coming to him, ready to dispense some advice from Heaven. She sat next to him, and laid a slender arm across the soft hairs of his stomach. Her other arm reached out, and her hand rested on his carved chest. "Listen love, life is to short to serve a spoiled teenage Emperor. He has ruined the Empire, stretching it out like a calf skin. Now he has stretched too far, and the rents are starting. This is your home, my home.... our home. You can not save the Empire. You know that. But, this place can be saved. Stay here, with me. If you leave.... I won't be going with you. I will stay and comfort the dying, until I am killed myself. Hedra has already asked her father if I can move in with them, and that is what I will do, if the Government House closes.

Richard reached out and held one of her shoulders, with his strong fingers. "I'm still struggling. This is not easy for me. It is tearing at my soul. Look, let us enjoy the morning, and this day, and see if the gods do not show me a sign."

Sophia reached further down from his stomach, toward a more intimate area. Her hand vanished under the sheet, and started to move up and down, causing the sheet to take on the movement of the waves. "Stay Richard, and Hedra and I will surely give you ministrations that will heal your soul. What can your honor, and your precious Emperor offer you, to equal the love of two women and the respect and love of this precious place?" She stopped for a moment popped her head under the sheet. For a few seconds, the waves grew larger, as if a storm were brewing.

A knock sounded at the large wooden door to the chamber, halting the motion of the ocean. Sophia's head shoot out from under the sheet. She stood, almost with guilt, as Richard cursed. She crossed to the changing table, and picked up a yellow dressing gown. When she threw it over her naked form, the sun moved threw it, showing over her curves in relief.

"You better get up and put something on, or I will just throw open the door!" She flipped her hair over her shoulder, and moved too the door. Behind her, Richard stood and picked up a red and black kilt from the floor. He expertly wound one end around his waist, before throwing the other end up over his shoulder.

Without waiting to see if he had bothered too leave the bed, or cover himself further, Sophia pulled the door open.

<TAG- if anyone wants, but otherwise, I am going to post for the Acting-Commander-Of-The-Guards. That will get him out and about, and then he can interact with other players characters>

OCC: Do NOT post here, before you are approved! You can apply at our OCC Thread.

town hall

It was only one glass since the dawn, but already Town Hall was abuzz with excitement. Orlando strode through the marble hallways. His boots clicked on the tile floors. His handsome face bore a scow, above his trim beard. Despite his hurry, he had taken the time to don a neat leather tunic and leggings, and to rub aromatic oils into his skin. Even when the wolf was ending, it payed to stay presentable.

The major was already behind closed doors with his cronies, but Orlando was not diswaded. The two story tall windows let in the morning sun, highlighting the enourmous doors to the counsel chambers. Two city militia guards beside it. Despite their green tunics, pistols, and massive ceremonial polearms, they looked like boys playing dress up. The shorter one might be eighteen summers, but his companion looked closer to fifteen.

Orlando pushed through the millimg crowd outside the doors. "You lads, move aside!" He strode forward, expecting nothing less than full compliance, but found crossed halberds blocking his entry.

"Stand back good sir! Entrance is forbidden to all but the city parents." The shorter one delivered this in a no nonsense style.

"Do you even know who I am? I could have you flogged." Orlando was furious. First the Empire was commandering most of the ships he had in port, and now the fucking city counsel was excluding him from a meeting, even though his ships were responsible for half of the wealth of the city. Having a pimpled youth confront him was really the last straw. Still, he had not obtained his riches by allowing his emotions free.

He forced himself to shut his mouth against further angry words, and turned away from the counsel doors.

Start/End at Stables

Dawn had finally come but Beth had it beat by two hours. She was up in the early hours before sunrise cleaning up after and feeding the horses. She would need to go prepare breakfast for her younger sister and mother soon as well which made the strains of her early schedule arduous seeing as how she needed to work fast in the dark. This morning however she finished early and had at least a few minutes to have a break before she cleaned up and made the morning meal.

She strolled around the stable, her eyes cast out towards the ocean, as tranquil as the sounds of the waves had been to her over the years they had also brought with them reminders of the fierce darkness that could be swept in with them. The Zarin had taken her father from her and since then she has had a hard time turning her back on the ocean.

She broke away from the stable and walked along the path towards the docks. She never would go all the way to them but the path had been a familiar stomping ground over these last hard years. Five years ago her life had changed forever, how could five years feel like yesterday? Life had changed so much, the town was gloomy and increasingly unfriendly. Unsavory people began to inhabit and even the blind knew that under the emperors own blind eye the town was becoming infected with criminal elements. It was even dangerous to walk the streets at times due to an increase in muggings. But for all that had changed, Landon was still Landon. The people she’d known growing up were all still here save for a few, such as her father.

Anabeth sighed as she broke away from the path as she usually did and crept away into the small brush, navigating through trees both big and small until coming to a brief clearing. She had taken a wooden bench from home and placed it there. She assumed it to be safe since she’d never seen anyone else there. On the bench over the years she had carved many things, the age and names of horses, random symbols which she saw in dreams or more accurately nightmares and messages to her father.

Today she had not brought a knife, as she sat on the bench she looked down at the weather-faded wood and ran her fingers along the carvings, tracing around them as tears welled up in her eyes.

“I’m tired father. I’m so tired. I don’t have long, I have to make breakfast. Please, just.. I just… need help. Please help me dad. I…” She paused to wipe the tears that had streamed down her face.

“I love you.” She whispered as she stood, staring over the tree-line at the one star that persisted above the clearing in a matter of minutes it would fade, replaced by the sun for the day until once again night fell.

Anabeth slowly trudged back to the homestead and crept into the house, washing herself clean and changing clothes before heading into the kitchen and continued with her daily routine. Breakfast consisted of eggs, pork belly, and fresh vegetables from a neighbour’s patch. She was grateful that they were given all their food for free from the community, as a way of helping them deal with the loss of Anthony. She in return cared for any animals that she was able to help.

She finished the meal and awoke her sister. Telling her to wake up her mother before changing yet again into her brothers faded blue button up shirt and a pair of slacks. Help tightly to her waist by a large brown belt which had two extra holes punctured into it just so it would fit her.

Now it was time to bathe the horses. She grabbed a bucket and rags as well as a brush then opened the gate to the first horse.

“Come October. It’s time for your bath.” Another sigh escaped her lips as she took the horse out into the yard and began to scrub it. So routine were her days but with the extra horses she was caring for at least days were profitable. Some of the soldier’s brought in horses for her to take care of and prepare for a journey. She didn’t like the sound of that. Were the soldiers leaving? Who would defend the town if they did? The Zarin were ruthless, they raped and murdered and destroyed with no remorse, it was as if they were inhuman. The very thought of them struck fear deep in her heart. To avoid the thought she concentrated more on cleaning October. Things would change, they’d get better. They had to.

North of Taylor's Pond - Croyden farm (Just off western map edge)

Geoffrey Tanner smiled grimly as the patrol marched by his hovel. (Crouched low, he silently admitted to himself it was, in fact, hardly more than a lean-to.) But even though the structure was well-hidden, tucked as it was among bracken, thistle, and underbrush a good twenty yards from the path, there were signs of his tenancy for the careful eye. “Not wary enough,” he growled under his breath. Had he taught them nothing?

“Pah!” he spat softly when the four soldiers were safely passed. “The smell of me alone should have been enough to bring them.”

In truth, he wasn’t pleased with the odour. It was the product of a week’s hiding without benefit of water for bathing. And worse. No shaving, he thought, scratching at the stubble, grown mostly white now. He had earned many of those hairs in long years of service to the Emperor, and he knew the hardness of that service had weathered his face well beyond his actual 38 years. Still, there had been far fewer of the pale tokens in his beard only a year before, a measure of the troubles since then. “Harbingers of things to come,” he muttered, scratching again while rising to stretch and watch the back of the last of the men disappear around a corner of the trail.

“Easy prey,” he muttered shaking his head. Of late the Zarin had become bold enough to slip men ashore in attempted ambush. One would think these men of his – former men he corrected himself – would at least show common sense. Sadly, it was too much to ask for professional pride these days and under these conditions. “Not the army I joined,” he said, turning to gather his things, preparing to move more deeply into the woods. “But twenty-three years is a long time.”

He jammed the tunic with the insignia of his rank, Serjeant of the Foot, into a bag and picked up his muzzle-loader and sword. He would miss the men and the work. He was good at it and had the medals to prove it. He had declined four offers of promotion before the army gave up, before they finally acknowledged what he already knew: He was at his best training men to survive and to fight. In the end, all accepted that it was men like Tanner who made armies, and his value was acknowledged when the Emperor’s Vice-Consul had himself pinned the Order of Vespasian on Geoffrey’s chest, promising with a laugh that the army would “leave him alone and make no further offers of promotion.”

Sighing and checking his camp once more, Tanner set off. He was sorry to lose the spot, placed as it was along the wooded ridge above Taylor’s Pond. It had good sight lines and was convenient to both the sea and several sources of fresh water. It was close to town, although he’d ventured into Landon only once - very late at night - since he’d left the barracks. Should be only a few days now, he thought. Perhaps not even that long.

It was no secret the battalion would be leaving very soon, and there was little chance of being found, but it was better to move again. The price of desertion was also no secret, and while he’d decided when Taryn died that he would be buried beside her here in Landon, he did not want to join her by swinging at the end of a noose. Staying was a death sentence anyway, but he preferred to a pointless execution, the opportunity of killing Zarin until he fell. His wife had loved this town, and he had loved her. For all she had given him, Landon Town’s final defense was the least payment he could make before laying down to join her in death.

He moved in stealth, taking the full day to swing northwest of the town until by sunset he stood on the low rise overlooking the farm of Edward Croyden. Croyden’s was the homestead furthest removed from Landon. From this position of seeming vulnerability, he’d been subject to several raids by the Zarin, and Tanner knew Sir Richard had asked the old man to withdraw himself and his family closer to the town.

He also knew Edward Croyden and his sons would never abandon the farm. Proud and tough, they were insular and entirely self-reliant. All were reasons Tanner and Croyden had gotten along well in the past; they were also the reasons Tanner knew he could lodge without fear at the farm. It would be for a night only, but after several weeks’ living in the woods, it was a luxury Tanner felt justified in granting himself, if only because he would finally get his bath.

Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, Tanner began moving into the valley, following in the lengthening shadows of dusk.

Southern ocean shore/Seraphim's house very south eastern part of town

Seraphim sat on the beach her toes in the sand as the ocean drew forth and receded time and time again each time sending a chill through her entire body, yet she sat staring out as the rose. She had been out her for hours meditating on the dream that had awoken her hours before, the sinking feeling that something dreadful was to befall her and the Town she called home.

While she was not an outsider in the village she had spent years where none knew where she was, when she had come home 6yrs earlier after a 4 year absents some of the locals had been wary of her, it seemed the memories of her mother and her strange abilities had survived the many years since her death.

Clearing her head and letting the red glowing rays of the first beams of sun hit her face she felt some of her worries ease. The sun had always seemed to chase away the darkness of her thoughts. Drawing her feet under her she slowly stood up and began the walk back towards her home.

Her mind drifting in and out of thoughts of rumors carried to her ears by the local women who came to her for dresses. She had heard the Royal Guards were to soon to withdraw and leave Landon Town and all its people to the mercy of the Zarin.

A shiver ran down Seraphim's spine at the thought of the type of Mercy the Zarin would show the men, women and children of Landon Town were they to succeed in invading once the Royal Guard left.

Opening her front door Seraphim walked over to build a fire but noticed that something seemed out of place she could not quite put her finger on it but the feeling was there, like a spider crawling across her skin.

Quickly she moved from room to room not to see if anyone was there but to make sure that the seal had not been broken on her mothers room. She slowly walked to the door, reaching out trying to sense if anything had been disturbed. The seal seemed to be still in its place, the feeling could not be emanating from there.

Slowly she walked back out to the kitchen and placed her kettle over the fire. She had to relax her dreams were making her paranoid.

While the kettle boiled she walked to her work room to pull out her latest sketches. She had been working on perfecting a dress for Hedra the Mayors daughter for sometime wanting to make sure it was perfect. She had not been told what occasioned the dress just how the dress should look. So far she was very pleased with her creation.

The color, the flare, fabric itself seemed to be made just for this dress, Seraphim knew that none but Hedra could wear this. It was perfect for her cheerful, naive nature as well as her beautifuly sun bleached highlights, bright clear eyes and flawless complexion.

Seraphim was not in a hurry to finish the dress as she knew that Hedra would not be here to even order to quite a while. None the less she worked on it making it exactly what Hedra would be looking for when the time was right.

Two For One

Location- CITY HALL

http://www.storycrafter.com/cgfx/new/938ee407d50128af00138a515efe236b.jpg

Richard was almost knocked over by Orlando Longwoods, as he approached the council doors. The man gave him a nasty glare, before moving on. For a moment, Richard considered stopping him, but it was not worth it. His news would make some of the citizens glad, but not that one. Like himself, Orlando was an outsider. He was not accepted as a native, which explained why he was not a counsel member, despite being the riches man in town. It would take at least three more generations, before his offspring were 'from here'. Some might see the good it would do the town, if he stay, but it would not be Orlando. The troops would still be using his ships to make their journey, and it was not likely that the ships would be headed back soon, since the Empire was commandeering any resource that it could, to survive. Life was always about survival. Life was continuing to live.

(to be continued, or tagged if someone wishes)

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

Location- Seraphim's

http://www.storycrafter.com/cgfx/new/953488907ea2dc61e0073d2978483ea6.jpg

Mari knew that she was a pretty girl, but she knew that every flower could benefit from some fresh petals. The troops were leaving tomorrow, and that meant that a lot of lovely lads would be going on a long, lonely journey. Sure, there were the whores that were sure to follow the soldiers, if they were snuck aboard the ship's, but they were just holes for hire. Mari saw herself as a daughter of the spirits of the season. To her mind, each season had a spirit that touched your heart. She was an embodiment of those spirits, and touched more than hearts.

In her mind, she saw herself in a swirling russet color dress, with a dark brown sweater that hugged her generous breast and tinkling bracelets on her ankles. When a new dress was needed, there was only one person worth thinking of.... Seraphim. In Mari's mind, Seraphim was a bit of an avatar for the spirits herself. She loved to sit and watch the woman sow. Her movements were so fine and her plans so exacting, but the results were so free and emotional. Mari sometimes wished that she had such an attention to details, but she knew that she was like a floating lily in the Spring, a flying lark in the Summer, a falling leaf in the Autumn and a drifting snowflake in the Winter. Details tied you down, and to be tied down was the worst thing that could happen to one.

Today she still had on one of her summer dresses. Mari did not find it easy to let go of seasons. There was a wreath of flower in her short auburn hair. Her skirt was the color of hay and swished just above her knees. Her arms were bare, and tanned. Her blouse was tight, white affair, with short puffy sleeves. It was opened at the front, allowing for more than a bit of cleavage. Her mother had groused at her that morning, as she had ever morning forever and ever, that her daughter cover up, and stop acting like a little fool, but Mari had ignored her. If her mother held a spirit, it was the spirit of stone. Stone was reliable. Stone could be used to build. Stone was also immobile and never got to roam. She would not be stone!

Mari breezed into Seraphim's house without knocking. Knocking was for people who might not be welcome, and Mari always seemed to assume that everyone would welcome her.

<tag- Seraphim>

Seraphim's house

Seraphim had just taken the kettle off the fire and was about to make herself a cup of tea when her kitchen door was flung open by non other then Mari. The bright ball of energy flourished her way in without so much as a knock and set herself down at the table.

"Oh is that tea? Make me one would you" she said as her bottom hit the chair.

Ever the kind hostess Seraphim reached for another tin cup to make the young lady a tea. "still just honey dear?" Seraphim asked but already knew the answer as Mari was a frequent 'guest' in her house.

The girl would sit and watch her sow for hours on end always babbling about how much detail Seraphim put into her work and how she, Mari would never be able to put so much detail into anyone thing as it was to constraining of her nature.

Setting the cup in front of the rosy cheeked young lady Seraphim smiled. "Have you come to work on your fall wardrobe dear?"

Beaming at Seraphim Mari nodded "indeed I have, you know how I dislike to let go of Summer yet here I am ready to let go."

Without so much as a word Seraphim pulled out her sketch book and went right to work on picture of a gown fit for the blue eyed, auburn haired girl. Also careful with her pleating and laying as Mari while beautiful was not a conventional beauty, she was a little plumper then most of the other young ladies in town, yet she seemed not to notice as she went about her life, fluttering in here and out of there.

<tag- Mari>

Location- Seraphim's

As Seraphim sketched away, Mari poured honey into her tea, and chattered.

"So can you believe that they are actually leaving? I heard from Marge Simpcott that the Empire's commands stated that any troops who stayed behind would be considered deserters! Can you believe it?" She took a cautious sip off her tea, and frowned. A few more spoonfuls of honey did the trick apparently, since she smile at her next taste, and drank the cup.

"Hey, this is really heavenly? Did you put rose petals in it? Yes.." She sipped again. "And there is a hint of Westland Briar Rose." She impulsively jumped up and gave Seraphim a quick, crushing hug, causing her to almost drop her notepad. "You are so brilliant? Have I told you that?"

She backed up and twirled around. Her short skirt flew out like petals opening, as her feet nimbly spun. "Did I tell you that I let Tommy Thresh kiss me? I know, he is so big and... clumsy, but there is something sweet about him." She stopped twirling, and looked serious for a moment. "Have you ever made a wedding Seraph?"

The next thing that Seraphim knew, Mari was leaning over her shoulder, peering at the drawings. "I don't know. Can't you give me a big more cleavage? I mean I know its for the Autumn, but I might as well have fun, before the Winter comes. Grandmama could make me a shaw that could kind of cover me, when I went out. OH, I do like those puffy sleeves though! Are those going to be rose then?"

<tag- the victim>

OCC: The Pink Seems Appropriate For Her

Start at stables/End at city hall foyer

(ooc sorry for the wait folks)

The order was for the horses to be brought from the stable once they had been groomed and take them to city hall for payment. Beth had seldom been to city hall save for going to watch some theatre production in the auditorium or once in awhile for a town meeting.

This time she was going to bring horses to some high up soldier one of those leaving town. Beth had been pretty out of the loop she had heard some soldiers were leaving but she didn’t see what the fuss was about, everyone was worried. It wasn’t like all of the soldiers were going, now the thought of that was truly frightening.

Anabeth replaced the saddles upon the two horses, seeing how the elegance and fine craftsmanship of each piece had been lain to waste by scars of combat and the general wear and tear of being used frequently. The chestnut brown colour of one was faded and mingled to make a more rouge colour thanks to the blood spilled upon it.

“Come. Let’s get you back to your masters.” She gently coaxed the two horses into movement and began her way down the path towards town hall which wasn’t far from the stables. Greeting other citizens as she passed with a smile she felt an ominous melancholy blanket spread across the town. Looking up to see the sun blocked by clouds it seemed appropriate to her for the skies to be as grey as the townsfolk.

She came up to the formerly grand doors of town hall but didn’t stay to admire them. She brought the trotting horses around back, tying them to a pole before coming up the steps, wondering if maybe she should’ve dressed more appropriate, her brother’s slacks and fathers shirt were not exactly fashionable and the presence of dirt, mud and other stains certainly wasn’t helping that fact. Nonetheless she believed people should come as they are and not hide who they are.

So there she was, face doused in mud hiding her features on the doorstep of something much grander than herself. She was greeted by a guard and his silence spoke enough so that she knew she would need to state her business before given entry. Something not common for this old town hall.

“I’m here with two horses, I’ve groomed and prepared them. I’m here for my payment. Would you show me to your commander?” The tone she used was stern but still respectful, she’d learned early that to be successful in business especially a young woman, she couldn’t let people push her around. All too common was it for someone to try to avoid paying or bully her into lower rates. She did a lot of work for free for the community but they helped her back, it was those not native to town that she shed no tears for when payment time came.

The guard held his hand out waving her to come in. She was seated on a bench while the guard went away down the hall. Beside her sat one of her neighbours, Elora Marsdelle, she seemed distraught and stared vacantly, not noticing Beth until she spoke.

http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m182/getwreckedrp/red-1.jpg

“Elora? You look out of sorts. What’s wrong?” She asked, closing in to her and resting an arm over Elora’s shoulder. Elora didn’t turn to her but burst out in tears.

“They.. they’re all leaving. Not just some of them everyone. They’re taking Ronald. Families aren’t allowed to come.” She muttered the words with a distinct nausea, a feeling that Beth now shared with her. They were allowing horses on the ships but not people? No wives or children? What sort of Emperor would do such a thing to split up families and leave those families unprotected. Beth saw Richard down the hall, she knew him and knew his face, he was in charge. Her temper got the best of her and she marched up to him. Fire in her eyes and clenched fists.

“Who do you think you are?” Her voice started quiet but quickly rose.

“How can you leave us all to die. How can you leave wives without their husbands and children without fathers? Are you that afraid of the Zarin? Are you that cold? That cruel to leave us to our demise?” She inhaled and almost let out another flurry of questions she didn’t want answers to until she heard Elora’s crying grow louder. She looked behind her to see Ronald consoling her.

http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m182/getwreckedrp/Rob.jpg

She almost teared up herself at the sight of them. She held them back though as she turned back to Richard.

“That will be 300 for the horses.” She muttered almost ashamed that she was asking for gold in this situation. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes, half out of distaste for him and half out of shame.

Location: City Hall Foyer


Richard grabbed both of the girl's arms and hauled her behind a marble column. By the look in her eyes, and the way she fought him, he knew that he had to make is case quickly, or she would cry assault, manage to hurt him herself or go spreading rumors that would ruin his reputation.

"Calm down for a moment! I am not your enemy! Until I discuss things with the city counsel, I can not tell you the details, but I not just abandoning the city!" She was trying to tear herself away.

"Please listen!"

Beth's eyes narrowed at him and she almost screamed when he grabbed her and pressed her against the pillar. Though he spoke before she reacted telling her to calm down. She looked up at him, hearing the words he said but playing it inside her mind to see if she believed him. Her distrust told her he was just saying it to shake her, then again he could've had the guard remove her without answering her at all. Of course not without her payment. Instead however he was talking to her and for all she tried she couldn't help but feel he was being honest.

She rotated her shoulder pulling her arm away from his grip which he'd loosened. She peeked out at her friend and back to him.

"And what about him? Maybe you won't abandon us, but everyone else will. My family has already given a father to the Zarin. If the emperor won't draw their weapons to defend us, then I like many others will die doing it." A tough, brave speech but she was trembling. Being able to hold and use a weapon did not make someone a soldier and she knew their efforts to defend would be futile at best. She feared her own death but even more-so she feared for her family and the rest of the town. It was all she knew and if everything she knew perished what would that make her except a shell whose insides had been removed. She was nothing without the town and the people she'd known and loved her whole life. Yes she did fear dying herself but she could not do nothing.

"We're afraid. Can't the Emperor see that? Will he not defend his people?" She asked though not expecting answers to those almost rhetorical questions.

Beth looked at him incredulously as if what he asked of her was preposterous. She wasn't his lacky but something in her told her to do what he asked. She stuttered for a moment before walking away from him over to her friend and her husband. Whispering in his ear to go see Richard taking his place with Elora, holding her tightly in an embrace, a tear rolled down her face in empathy for the young woman she'd known since child-hood.

Ronald slowly walked towards Richard, a look of gloom on his face before he stifled it with the stern look of a soldier.

"Sir?" He asked as well as greeted Richard with, not sure what to expect next. While he waited Beth was knelt down by his wife, helping to comfort the distraught woman.

"Where's Ron Jr.?" Beth asked, not seeing the small child who looked so much like his father.

"He's with my mother, he's going to stay there until..." She broke out in tears again unable to speak. Beth felt her shoulder get moist as the woman's tears soaked into the shirt. She couldn't help but look back over at Richard as she held the woman's head to her shoulder.

Location: City Hall

Richard looked at the lad sternly. "Where do your loyalties lay son?"

The younger man responded quickly. "Sir! I serve the Emperor sir!"

Richard nodded slowly. He had already been talking, secretly, with some of his most loyal troop leaders for week, feeling them out. He was sure that there was discontent. If he were to declare his intentions, without a considerable force behind him, he would be arrested for treason. The only way to go about it was to have enough force on his side to not make it worth the loss of life to take him and those loyal to him. Every time he spoke to a soldier, the risk increased, but without speaking, he was stepping off a cliff, not knowing if he would be caught by a branch, or fall to his death.

He decided to spit it out. "What if I were to tell you that I was not going back. Would you stay and serve me, knowing that it meant breaking our vows, and becoming outlaws and dishonored men?"

The younger man looked startled, then hopeful and then scared. Richard imagined that the lad was already trying to figure out if he was telling him the truth, or trying to ferret out disloyalty. Richard understood the struggle only too well. Fear and trickery were the hallmarks of the Empire. It was why he despised living in the capitol, and found Landon such a relief. It was the reason he had finally decided to dishonor himself, but in the process honor this place that he had realized was his home.

"Its not a trick lad. I am deadly serious. I am going to go over to that young mother of yours, right now. If you are with me, you will come and stand beside me, and tell me the child's name. If you are not, then come over and tell me that I am wanted in the council chamber. Neither statement will incriminate you. Neither will give me any proof against you.

He turned deliberately and walked toward the two women, aware that they both probably hated him.

Tag- Valina

Beth stood up as Richard walked over to him, followed by Ronald. She stood between Richard and Elora almost in defense of whatever words he would speak. Ronald looked confused and frightened, what did Richard say to him?

She felt she should say something to him but didn't know what to say. She was out of her element here and was speechless. Partially due to Richard's intimidating figure. He was not a small man and he commanded a presence that few men she'd met did.

"What?" Was all she could muster, Elora behind her couldn't sit anymore and stood, taking hold of Beth's hand. They gripped each other tightly in anticipation of what was to come. Ronald's face didn't give them any answers as he seemed to be struggling internally with whatever Richard had said.

lay vicarage (adjoining the church)/the main road

I love these people. I have learned to love them. By God I wish I did not have to kill them. Lay Minister Donner John thought behind hooded brown eyes. I wish... but oh I sold my soul that night on the white and red sands and even now I almost do not regret--

"... And then I said to her, I said 'they can't be leaving. It wouldn't be right.' Well take Ronald's woman, you know the dear... Beth, I think... 'take Beth' I told her 'She and her children all alone without a man. I remember when the Emperor wouldn't allow such.' And I do. I'm that old, though I don't look it..." The old woman prattled on, breaking into John's thoughts.

She sat, prim as a button in her company clothes, across from him in the parlor of the lay vicarage. Her name was Gleana Carlswif and she had called on him for advise about some small matter, he had already forgotten it, but, as in the past, it was simply an excuse for her to gossip at him. He had gotten used to it. In fact, he had grown rather fond of her and her eccentric mannerisms and the way she regarded herself almost as his mother. Currently she was trying to remarry him. If the thought of marriage had not brought up old, bad memories best left forgotten he would have found it amusing.

"...but what do you think of her?" The Gleana's voice intruded again. somehow John thought she sounded shriller, more annoying. He scratched his weather aged chin, miming thoughtfulness. He nodded and mumbled something conciliatory about good works and riches of the spirit, but he needn't have bothered. gleana continued on over him, not waiting for a response. "She is quite, quite secular, and as a minister I know... Well... My husband was a minister, you know. He was very picky in choosing a bride. I was honored, though I knew that half of it was my beauty. Men, pardon me dear minister, always go after the pretty ones." The old woman paused for breath and John felt his mind slip away again into memories and--

It was pure madness on the beach where I lost her: chaos and noise and fury. But when she went down everything else became blank. It was just me and her and all that blood. I can't, I won't, allow anyone else on that beach. And they tell me I didn't. When I came to in an Imperial Garrison it was almost a miracle that I remembered what I had been told to--

"...A man your age wifeless is a shame..." This time Gleana's aged voice was like metal scraping over stone. It grated at John's ears. He smiled past her at the tapestries on the wall, focusing on their intricacies, and struggled to block out her chatter.

I have my mother's blood in me, and she her father's. Thats what they said. We were perfect for this. We were chosen and our love was just another proof of it. On the night that I left, the last time I have felt woad cool and powerful against my skin, they blessed us and we tied the wifing knot. We kissed in front of others for the first and best time. We--

"...Of course she is the Second's widow. And I hear, well I hear all sorts of things about her and a certain Commander you know. But as a minister's wife, why... You do know of all her charitable work? And her projects? And she is quite the cultured woman, from the interior and born noble, anyone can tell you that. What do you say? A word in the right ear..." Gleana paused and smiled at him conspiratorially, forcing him to respond.

John stammered, began to say another platitude, eager to get back to his thoughts and comforting pain. Then he realized that any answer he gave to Gleana, affirmative or negative, would prolong the conversation. Its time for this to end, as any farce must. "I'll think on it, though I doubt much'll come of it..." He said as he rose, signaling the end of her call. He smiled into her wrinkled eyes and offered his hand to help her rise. "Please." He said, as he lifted her, light as a feather on his strong arm. Go now, I tire of you... "Thank you for calling, Mother Carlswif, and do return, but I must get to my work and then my rounds." And then, betrayal. "It has been simply lovely talking to you."

John helped her to the door and saw her teetering off on her way to the well and her gaggle of bosom friends before he let the smile slip from his face. He stood at the doorway of the vicarage and stared out at the townhouse across the street in the direction that he knew the sea to be.sighed. He was alone now with his thoughts and found that he couldn't think them. The old woman had soured his afternoon. He scowled and went inside. He had work to do, the Parochus wanted a message passed to a certain wealthy merchant widow, and as lay minister it was his action, not his approval that was needed.

John was halfway to the wealthy widow's home when Lester Fine caught him. The Town Constable and Sheriff of the Forest was a big man, one of the few who could look John in the eye. He and his oaken staff commanded respect at the secular court, many a wench's headboard, and the inn's barroom, though not necessarily in that order of significance. He laughed a deep rolling laugh as he gripped John's shoulder in a hand like a vise.

"Hey John. Don't tell me, off to what's her name's for the young Parochus now? I always said she was good at what women do. He's got a decent eye. Hahahaha!" Lester leaned close so that John could smell the ale on his breath when he laughed.

John laughed along with him, enjoying Lester's ubiquitous talk of women. Lester was one of the few friends he had made in his six years in Landon. And the Constable will be one of the first to go. and damn me but I almost do not regret it... "It's true." John laughed. "But we both know that. Some enter the church for faith, others for a good, and wealthy I might add, fuck. What's new?"

Tag> Lester (does someone want to write for him? If not I can)

Location- road near vicarage

<<<"It's true." John laughed. "But we both know that. Some enter the church for faith, others for a good, and wealthy I might add, fuck. What's new?"

http://www.storycrafter.com/cgfx/9111.jpg


"A goodly fuck eh? Is that why that old hag Gleana comes to you? I knew that there must be some reason! She was an old woman when we were still young. Bet she was bore with bobby pins in her hair." He leaned closer to John, sending more of his dubious breath across the other man's neck.

"Truth be told I've plowed that field myself, though that was a life time ago. A pretty redhead she was then, and a fire in her when you stoked her engine. Still, when I wasn't giving it to her behind someone's barn, she treated me as if I were a lepor. Good enough for a screw I was, but not good enough to not treat like shit, when we met around town."

http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m182/getwreckedrp/Rob.jpg

The young man stood for another moment and then words rushed from his mouth.

"Sir Richard, may I present my lovely Elora, mother of my son, Ronald Junior. I am not sure I had the occasion to introduce you before. Our son is being watched right now, owing to the goings on, but Elora insisted on coming with me today. Under the circumstances it seems..."

http://www.storycrafter.com/cgfx/new/938ee407d50128af00138a515efe236b.jpg

Richard halted him with a lifted hand. "That is enough for now. It is lovely to make your acquaintance, Laura. I know that if your son is as fine a man as his father, then you both have a right to be proud." He looked around.

"I believe that young Ron has some news that will be of great interest to you, but I beg that he not deliver it to you here."

Donner John laughed a deep belly laugh. Gleana? "Gleana? My dear Lester..." Donner John started to speak and then doubled over in laughter again. "Oh gods of the earth.... Me... Fucking... Gleana?" He looked at Lester through hooded eyes and prolonged his laughter long after it otherwise would have died away. Lester's talk of sexual prowess and casual wifing among the parishers was normal. John found it hilarious, most of the time. But Gleana had ruined his mood, reminding him of bad memories. And now Lester's jokes about women were, aside from their initial amusement factor, reminding him of how much he still felt the loss of his woman. I have never touched another man or woman in real passion since she died. Now, I am not sure that I am able.

Donner John smiled at Lester and forced away his depressing thoughts. Lester was his best friend, a huge joker who could brighten the day of any man or woman perhaps save his own wife. No more thoughts of the inevitable. "Its mad thought!" He cried, "Though if she's as good as you say?" He glanced at Lester conspiratorially and they both laughed at the unspoken joke.

"Perhaps," Lester said, "You've been missing the real reason she comes to see you all these years. And my poor man, the experience she holds, granted in no small part by myself, could be worth more than whatever spiritual guidance you've been foisting on her?"

"Gods of the earth, Lester." John swore. "But you cannot have caught me in the street simply to tell me to fuck an old woman! I must be on my way, but if you have more to say then come with me to the inn and after I have completed my business you can enlighten me over a tankard or two."

Tag> Lester or (if we just skip to the inn) anyone who happens to be there

"Old is she? I suppose so, but then so am I. Hell's shithouse lad. I'd still bed her myself, just to feel those steel nails on by back again! A wee young man like yourself can not appreciate a mature form. Come on then. Let us get drunk and get you laid... (to the INN)

OCC: quick lunch break post. more later

HoleInMyHead said:

"So can you believe that they are actually leaving? I heard from Marge Simpcott that the Empire's commands stated that any troops who stayed behind would be considered deserters! Can you believe it?"

Click to expand...

Seraphim heard Mari say as she continued to sketch the rough look of her fall dress. It was going great already, having the girl here barely even phased her concentration as every time Mari stopped by she constantly chattered.

HoleInMyHead said:

"Hey, this is really heavenly? Did you put rose petals in it? Yes.." "And there is a hint of Westland Briar Rose." "You are so brilliant? Have I told you that?"

Click to expand...

Seraphim nearly dropped her note pad when Mari had suddenly grabbed her and gave her a quick but hard hug. Smiling at the overly energetic and infamously scatter brained girl Seraphim couldn't help but wonder how the poor girls mother ever managed to get a thing down whilst Mari was in the house to torment her.

HoleInMyHead said:

"Did I tell you that I let Tommy Thresh kiss me? I know, he is so big and... clumsy, but there is something sweet about him." She stopped twirling, and looked serious for a moment. "Have you ever made a wedding Seraph?"
"I don't know. Can't you give me a big more cleavage? I mean I know its for the Autumn, but I might as well have fun, before the Winter comes. Grandmama could make me a shawl that could kind of cover me, when I went out. OH, I do like those puffy sleeves though! Are those going to be rose then?"

Click to expand...

Seraphim was at first a little shocked by what Mari had said and it took her a moment to respond about the kiss never mind differ about the cleavage on the dress.

"Mari no you had not told me that you let him kiss you, does your mother know?? Oh never mind that, yes I have down some wedding material before but that my dear comes long after a first kiss no matter how seriously you look at me when you ask the question."

Seraphim went back to sketching, the sleeves as puffy as they were indeed seemed perfect for Mari, as she did like to stand out as the flower in the room, non could rightfully look over her as it was near impossible to ignore her attire most days.

"How about this?" Seraphim asked as she squared the neck line a little bit giving it more the illusion of being lower as opposed to actually lowering it. "A happy medium for us all, you do know that the thing that keeps men interested is the allure not the flaunting of your many gifts."

Seraphim went on adding color and detail not worrying about whether or not Mari would concede to the neck line as Seraphim after all was the one sewing it.

beginning on the road/ continuing at the inn

"...But who are we to talk of age!" cried Lester as he and John walked through the door of the inn. His voice turned the heads of those sitting nearest the door leading from the hall to the main room. Some of the men laughed. Many of the women quickly looked away. One of the men looked as if he would rise from the dice game he was playing, his face twisted in disgust, but then was forced back into his chair by the other players. Two old men crossed themselves. A half dozen youngsters newly released from a night in the drunks cells cheered. Lester ignored them all. "You know the saying," He said as he leaned into John, "A man is only as old as the woman he beds. And that makes you twice as old as me!"

Lester moved away from John toward the nearest pretty barmaid and John walked across the inn's entrance hallway to the stair. A half dozen of the town's richest had apartments above the inn and one of them was the lady John had been sent to see. John's business went quickly, a few words in the ear of the lady's maid and she had scurried off giggling silently to give her mistress the message. When John got down to the inn's main room, he found Lester sitting in a corner, uncharacteristically womanless.

John went to meet him.

Tag> Lester or anyone at the inn

Location: Seraphim

Location: Seraphim's

IC: No one had ever accused Mari of having an sense of mystery or any subtlety. It was on the influences of friends, like Seraphim, that kept her from seemed more loose than she really was. Truth be told, though she had warmed many folks nights, she had never done this without working up to it first. Each new partner excited her, and have her butterfly feelings of the possibility of love and a future. As soon as she had bedded them though, these thoughts flitted from her mind. She was like a bumblebee, always looking for a new flower that might have a nectar that was just a bit sweeter than the last one had.

Mari lean heavily into Seraphim, and then pulled herself up, looking a bit grouchy. She flounced back over to the teapot and prepared another cup. "I never said I was getting married. Its just that a girl never knows. The next one might be him. He has to be out there somewhere, and your not helping me find him by covering too much." She plopped down in her chair. The design did not matter anyway. She would pull at her neckline, and push at her bust, until there was an enticing amount of exposed flesh.

"You would not understand anyway. I almost never see you with a young man." She blushed slightly. "Or a woman. How could someone competent like you, who has their own world, understand? I really do want a husband, and to have loads of little one running around! I am quite sure that I will be a wonderful mother. I just don't want any old man though. I can't know if a man is the one until we've.... done it, and it seems like no one ever is the one! If I am going to spend the rest of my life with one man, he has to be able to.... please me. Never mind, you just would not understand."

Mari downed her tea, and started to pour another cup, looking like a depressed worker downing ale at the Inn.

OCC: I can have Mari leave soon, if you wish to go about town, or someone else could come in and distract her. I am enjoying the exchange, but do not wish for you to feel trapped.