Jump to content

Shattered Honour Chapter Seven


Parrhesia
 Share

Recommended Posts

They called it a 'goodmorrow'.

It was a local invention, a tough weapon for a tough sort of town. It was an ordinary, stout oaken cudgel, save with a spearhead on its top to stab with. Jacqui had overseen the making of many such bludgeons, as it was possible that, very shortly, she was going to have to lead a revolt.

The pigeon had come only two hours ago. Randel was feverish, his condition rapidly worsening. Some bastard gut him like a fish, right in his own audience hall. Could anyone be safe? Jacqui's own recent experiences proved otherwise.

She weighed the goodmorrow in her hands, judging the heft. Then she nodded approvingly, and handed it over to Jameson the blacksmith, working side-by-side with the woodworker Matthew. "Good work," she said, and turned around to her ragtag army.

This... hadn't gone so well. The weapons? Well, clubs, crossbows and torches were one thing, but Cathar had two legions at his disposal, with battleaxes and longbows and kite shields, and they would cut right through the hardened leather armour most of her mob was equipped with. The bashers, though, them she could deal with. They had no shieldwalls to hide behind. If she was going to reclaim the city, it would be fast, before the legions could arrive. If she couldn't manage that...

Jacqui sighed, and turned to her squire. She'd decided that her services to date had been worthy of a knighthood and a modest village to serve for her fief, and so she had employed a burly youth of seventeen called Rackart as a squire. Granted, Rackart had a clubfoot, but he was still good to carry things around, he followed orders well and he was loyal.

"Ready the designated men," she said. "We're going to set up a disruption."

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

"Look, you leaking cunt," snapped Aldous, "when I want my enemies crushed, I slay them manfully in fight! This skulking bullshit ain't my business."

"Aye, but what of others of your nation?" Glaive's voice was quiet, and his eyes were down on the table, refusing to make contact. His knuckles were rapping on the table in a rhythmless beat. Aldous glared at him.

"You're just scared a Tascaran might be at the centre of all this. Civic pride, eh?"

"Shut it, Captain-" warned Caine.

"Fuck you," said Aldous, hotly. "I ain't been a soldier these twenty-eight years to be insulted by your kind!"

The proud captain marched out before anyone could stop him, pausing only briefly to spit on the ground.

"Impudent-" Charagon began, but Miriam waved him off. The Earl calmed, barely, and began to speak again. "Look, I'm just saying that the man was crazed! Delusional! And they could easily have hired a man from southern Tascara! It's perfect, isn't it, setting us against each other?"

"If that is the case," said Miriam, evenly, "then the southern lords will have nothing to hide, and nothing to fear for. But if they killed my father..."

Charagon looked bitter, but Miriam would not be dissuaded.

And yet, after the meeting, Charagon had more words for her. A quiet whisper in her ear.

"You aren't my superior yet, girl, and I'll always be your better. I will not stand by and watch as you doom us all to a senseless civil war."

It's a long road, but uneventful and kept well-patrolled by bored-looking guards.

The city of Martella itself, however, is a glorified slum. Lord Josef Cathar rules with an iron fist, with massive overtaxation of which he tithes almost nothing to the crown. Randel is... was convinced the rot in the south starts here, and not without reason.

The sigil of Martella is a diamond, but there are few guards on the streets, and they keep out of trouble. Cathar's bashers roam the streets freely in leathers and blue capes, with great two-handed clubs, long, slim and made of iron. They're feared debt collectors, and once they catch hold of you they'll never let go.

You're regarded with suspicion at the gate, but let through quickly when you produce Randel's seal. Within two blocks away of the gate, a young urchin approaches you, scrutinising you through rheumy eyes. "You're those folks the bard wants to see," he says, then dashes off into the shadows, gesturing at you to follow. "Quick! Before Cathar's terriers catch on!"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Replies 204
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

The urchin shimmies into a side alley, almost in a blur, but you're just able to keep in sight.

Eventually he stops, rapping his knuckles on a door. "'S me, Marco!"

"What's the password?"

"Dunrik."

The door swings open, and the urchin gestures at you to follow. "'S Randel's men."

The broad, barrel-chested man looks surprised, but only briefly. "Run off for Jacqui, then." He glares at you, suspiciously. "I wanna see your seal."

You show it to him, and he grunts. "Best go through, then. It's been a hard few days for us; we've been waiting for you."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Both Ratter's request for a drink and Irene's need for actual information are fulfilled when Jacqui sashays into the main hall, pouring moonshine into a flagon. She passes the flagon to Jack and starts pouring one out for herself. "It's good to see you again, Jack," she says, smiling.

Jack's... close friend has changed in recent times. Not least her equipment; she has, understandably, ditched her lion-engraved cuirass for a heavier and less specifically-aligned coat of plates. A heavy dagger and a meat cleaver attempting to pass for a sword hang at her belt. Her face is still long, angular, and cheerful, but there's a fresh cut above her right eye.

When Jacqui's finished, a blond youth behind her starts pouring out a few more flagons of the stuff. It tastes... rather foul, but it's strong and bitter. Sort of like 130-proof grapefruit juice.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Jacqui." Jack just stares at her for a few seconds before allowing a huge smile to break out on his face. "You're alive. I knew you wold be." He continued to stand there with a silly grin on his face until Irene, who had previously been sniffing her flagon suspiciously, cleared her throat. "Oh, uh, right. We are here to help you in whatever way we can. Due to what happened to Randel, we came here as soon as possible. We are at your command." He bowed and then grinned some more.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Well, it's good to hear you have some enthusia-"

"What, are we going to cook, or something? Could go for a bite, I guess."

Jacqui pauses, and stares at Jordan for several seconds, mouth slightly open. "...sm. Uh." She snaps herself awake. "RIGHT. Anyway, first up you should make yourselves comfortable in the city. Give yourselves a plausible identity; it's not likely Randel's men would have just disappeared."

You notice she gives a little, involuntary shudder when she says 'Randel'. Evidently, she's still shaken from it.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Jacob scowls at the mention of arson, unconsciously rubbing his left arm. He sighs and takes a quick gulp of whatever god-awful toxin he'd been served.

This is certainly... unique... He scowls once again, this time from the taste.

He manages to take another small drink before setting the flagon down and turning to Jacqui.

"It's good to see you again. Well, maybe not good, considering everything else, but..."

He realizes that if he continues, he'll really start to sound like a fool, so he adds "I'm just glad you're not dead." and then shuts up entirely.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Felix cried a little (very quietly) at first, but everything clears up at the mention of arson.

Felix fidgets and grins like a dipshit.

Edited by Integrity
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Whilst he was as surprised to see Jacqui as all the others, it would be pretty silly to announce himself like the others. Instead he listened to the proposed plan, uncertain of its outcome.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Chrysanthum grabs Ratter by the collar and drags him away.

"You'll get more than three drinks if you come with me. You'll get all the drinks in the world. Now shut up and follow me."

He doesn't let go. He goes into the city and wanders about, trying to find an expansive bit of space.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Chrysanthum finds the expansive space he's been looking for.

"This looks like a good place."

He throws Ratter in front of him.

"It's been boring since that last battle. Do you know how strong men emerge? This town reeks, but sometimes, the strongest emerge from pure filth..."

He stabs his sword into the ground, then rests one foot on the hilt and starts roaring in a loud voice.

"Oh ye people of...of...Mar...something," his voice gets temporarily lower, "OH YE PEOPLE OF THIS CITY! Come, those who believe in strength! Ye shall wrestle with us, and should you win, you shall win ONE HUNDRED COINS! But most of all, ye shall win the greatest prize of all: GLORY!"

He takes off his armour and his shirt violently and hangs them on his sword, then he flexes continuously.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

 Share

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.
×
×
  • Create New...