[center][h1][b][u]A Noble Far From Home[/u][/b][/h1][/center] [hr] Eighty-one pairs of feet trudged down the dirt road. It was rare for Ketrefa to send a raiding party of this size out so far. But this was no usual raid. They needed miners. Experienced ones. So they needed to find a mining settlement, which tended to be better-armed and better-fortified than most humble farming villages. The Ketrefans knew of one such settlement, but it was far away: Thyma. Lord Milos Karras had disliked the prospect of such a long journey. But he was the son of the Lord-Captain, Ketrefa's highest ranking military official; responsible for the coordination of raids and requisition parties, and tasked with leading the city's armies in times of war. Milos himself was destined to one day take up the position, and although it had effectively become hereditary over centuries of proven service, he still needed to prove himself nonetheless to guarantee that it would stay that way. So he would arrive at Thyma, demand they allow him access to the village, seize the fittest workers from the population, and then requisition some food for the march back. If they resisted, he would have to enact some sort of reprisal. Resistance rarely occurred; the neighbouring tribes had learned long ago that it was easier to give in. There had been united attempts to break Ketrefa's power in the past, but each attempt had been crushed mercilessly. So it was often a simple matter of showing up in sufficient numbers and issuing a demand. In truth, the nobleman found the practice distasteful. While the practice did ensure Ketrefan superiority - in launching regular raids into outside territories they not only kept their own population prosperous, but also kept the neighbouring settlements weak - the fact that the prosperity came at such blatant expense of other humans still came across as unseemly, at least to him. Yes, those born outside Ketrefan leadership were lesser men, but they were still men, which put them above the vile trolls, at the very least. Part of him wondered if it was possible for these "lesser men" to become something greater. If instead of keeping them suppressed, they could help raise them up, and work together. But his father had warned him such ideas were naive. That if they tried to share their city's wealth with outsiders, the outsiders would simply take their wealth and leave them with nothing. But still, Milos wondered... He shook the thoughts off. Even if he was right, he was just one man, and could not bring about such change on his own. He knew of no other nobles who shared these concerns. He was certain that at least a few had to, but they wouldn't dare speak of such matters in public, and therefore they were impossible to find. He shifted his thoughts back to the task at hand. From what he knew of the terrain, they were maybe two or three days away from the next village: Morganstead. A small and pathetic thing, just on the edge of what Ketrefa considered to be viable raiding territory. Even then, it was an open secret the lords who were normally sent this way sometimes chose to ignore it, as its tribute rarely made a significant difference. Milos wasn't certain if it would have anything to offer even now, but it could perhaps be a valuable resting point on his way to Thyma. After another hour of traveling, the village came within sight, and didn't seem to have grown any larger since the last time it was tapped for resources. The sun was low on the horizon. Milos decided he would not seize the homes of the villagers - setting up camp outside would suffice - but they would help themselves to what food was available, as this was a longer journey than usual. Those in the fields and streets saw the host approach, and quickly fled into their hovels, shutting doors and windows. Only one man remained in the street - the village chieftain, who eyed the Ketrefan banner carried by one of Milos's men, and began approaching to speak with them. "Hail, Ketrefan," the chieftain said, attempting to keep his tone respectful. "You speak for these people, I assume?" Milos asked, casting his gaze at the buildings where he knew fearful inhabitants sheltered. The chieftain nodded. "What news do you have of the surrounding area?" Milos questioned, waving a hand to indicate the countryside. "Thyma has been destroyed by a raid, my lord," the man said, bowing his head slightly. "There were no survivors." Milos's air of confidence cracked slightly, as his eyebrows rose of their own volition. "Destroyed?" he asked, shocked. "When?" The chieftain scratched his head. "A few days ago, I think? That's what the druids told us." "And where are these druids?" Milos asked. "Gone. They left yesterday." Now, Milos frowned. An entire village, destroyed by a raid? No survivors? The only witnesses conveniently gone? "I will march to this village tomorrow," he said, his tone sharpening. "And if I find out you lied to me, I will see your village burn. Understand?" The chieftain's eyes widened with fear. "Y-yes, my lord! It's the truth, I swear!" Milos scrutinized him further, then decided he believed him, and cursed inwardly. The entire journey was for nothing. He might not have to return empty-handed - he could take slaves and tribute from the villages on the way back - but he had failed his main objective His father would be most displeased, regardless of the fact that it had not been his fault. The shame would not be constrained to his own family either - other houses coveted the position of Lord-Captain, and would seize any excuse to deem him unfit. This incident on its own might not be enough, but as his father always reminded him, even the most minor of failures would add up without a success to make people forget them. "I would hope so," Milos nodded grimly. "In the meantime, my men will require food and supplies." He turned to address his men. "Gelo, take nine men and go search that farm. The rest of you, set up camp." The lowborn warrior known as Gelo, a reliable retainer who served as his second-in-command on this mission, nodded, and quickly assembled a requisition party. The rest of the host unloaded gear from the quillats which carried their supplies, and began setting up bedrolls, tents, and cooking areas. Milos watched Gelo kick in the door of a hovel, before entering with four warriors at his back, while five waited outside. Screams were heard from inside the building. Moments later, a middle-aged man, his wife, and their two daughters were dragged out, then forced to kneel on the grass. Of the four men who entered the house, Gelo assigned two to watch the family and two to search their home more thoroughly, while he led the remaining five toward the granary. All this had been done in less than a minute; there was no denying the man's efficiency. He quickly broke down the granary door, and then his men moved inside. This time, it was Gelo's men who did the yelling. Rallying a dozen men who stood nearby, Milos charged toward the granary. He arrived just in time to see Gelo and two men struggling to haul out a screaming, feral boy with half his face bandaged. Another one of Gelos's men stumbled out soon after; he swayed like a drunkard and his helmet was dented. He staggered off to the side, doubled over, and vomited. The two remaining men followed soon after; one dragging the other, who was knocked out cold. Gelo released his grip on the boy's feet, who began wildly kicking. The two other warriors, each holding an arm, were then able to pin him to the ground, after some difficulty. Milos was astonished at how many it took. "What happened?" he demanded as Gelo approached him, breathing heavily. "That boy..." Gelo spoke incredulously. "He was waiting for us with a piece of wood. Got the drop on us. Somehow brought two of us down. Don't give me that look..." then he seemed to remember who he was speaking to, and his eyes widened. "F-forgive me, my lord! But that boy - he's not natural. He's stronger than any man I've ever fought." Milos did not want to believe it, but somehow, after seeing how difficult it was for the two men to keep such a small boy pinned... he did. Then the grim reality of what just happened finally set in. An outsider had attacked one of his men. At the very least, the expected response to such a transgression was to put the offender to death. The offender who, in this case, was a small boy that likely didn't understand the weight of the action. Milos winced internally, for it was a cruel punishment. But if he did nothing, and word got back to Ketrefa... he might be seen as weak. Sympathetic to the savages. He could perhaps justify putting the boy's parents to death instead... but then the boy and his siblings would have no one to care for them, and if they survived might be even more likely to raise a hand against Ketrefan soldiers in the future. Perhaps the village chieftain might suffice instead? [i]Tekret... Cadien... Evandra... what do I do?[/i] he thought quietly to himself. As he wrestled with the cruel dilemma, a deep voice he had never heard before suddenly sounded inside his head. [color=violet][i]No.[/i][/color] "What?" Milos asked, startled. Gelo looked at him with confusion. "I didn't say anything, my lord." "Resume your search!" Milos snapped. He looked to the dozen men behind him. "Back to the camp!" With a frown, Gelo bowed and went back to the task, while the men he had gathered to run to Gelo's aid withdrew. Milos himself, meanwhile, stood alone in his confusion. [color=violet][i]Is this how low Tekret's favoured have fallen?[/i][/color] the deep voice resumed with contempt. [color=violet][i]Now, before you butcher this entire village to find out who is saying this, know that none of them are responsible. For it is I. Cadien.[/i][/color] "C-Cadien?" Milos whispered hoarsely, falling to his knees. [color=violet][i]The child before you is of my blood. You will not harm him, or those who protected him. You will not go to Thyma, and you will not loot this village. Tomorrow, you will turn back and march home. And if I see you do otherwise, I will see your [i]city[/i] burn. Understood?[/i][/color] The revelation issued in tandem with the threat made Milos pale in terror. "F-forgive me, your holiness," he whispered desperately. "I... I did not mean... I did not know..." [color=violet][i]Silence. I can see your most deepest thoughts, and I know your true feelings. Hmm... perhaps you and your city may not yet be beyond redemption,[/i][/color] the God mused. [color=violet][i]You will take this child back with you, you will take him into your household, and you will raise him as if he were your own son. And you will keep this conversation to yourself,[/i][/color] he commanded. "But... what of my father? He will not-" [color=violet][i]Your father is dead,[/i][/color] Cadien cut him off. That news felt like a kick to the chest. He had never been particularly fond of his father, but still... to lose him so suddenly, to be told like this... and then there were the responsibilities he was meant to inherit. He was the head of House Karras now. And now the Lord-Captain of the army, if he could somehow attain the position - yet alone retain his nobility - after what he was now required to do. "I... I understand, your Holiness..." he whispered. [color=violet][i]Good. See it done,[/i][/color] the God of Perfection commanded sternly. The young lord took a deep breath, and rose to his feet. He looked to his men who held the boy in place, and to his surprise, the child stopped struggling. Instead, the boy looked up from him with a gaze that was surprisingly free of hatred or fear. Milos wondered if the God of Perfection had spoken to the child too. "Release him," he commanded. [hr] [hider=Post Summary] Our post begins with a Ketrefan warband on its way to the village of Thyma, to procure some experienced miners as slaves. The warband is command by Milos, a young noble in his mid-twenties. His father is the commander of Ketrefa's armies, and has high expectations for this raid. Milos himself has some doubts about the way Ketrefa does things, but has learned to keep them to himself. He arrives at Morganstead, where he hears that Thyma has been destroyed. Not good. He decides to march to Thyma anyway to confirm the story, and in the meantime has his men search a farm for something to eat. They find Brundt hiding in the granary - he was actually able to beat the shit out of two grown men before being captured. Milos suddenly gets angsty, because if he doesn't enact some sort of punishment on the village as retribution for this offense, then his father and the other nobles back home might think of him as weak. Just as he is debating what to do, Cadien contacts him. Cadien orders him not to harm anyone in the village, and that he must also take Brundt back and adopt him on his own. If he does not comply with these orders, then Cadien will have Ketrefa destroyed. Oh, Cadien also drops the news that his father is dead. [/hider] [hider=MP Summary] [u]Cadien[/u] [b]Beginning MP:[/b] 4 [b]Beginning DP:[/b] 0 -1MP to stop the heart of Milos's father. [b]Ending MP:[/b] 3 [b]Ending DP:[/b] 0 [/hider] [hider=Prestige Summary] [u]Brundt[/u] [b]Beginning Prestige:[/b] 10 +3 prestige for 5k characters (the amount of the post he was present for.) -1 prestige to beat the shit out of two Ketrefan soldiers. [b]Ending Prestige:[/b] 12 [/hider]