[IC] Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

[Penny]

Camilla sighed feeling the male eyes on her. There was an obvious solution of course but obvious didn't mean safe or pleasant.

"Oui, Oui alright," she replied to the unspoken question, tossing her head in irritation and not a little trepidation. Fumbling in the dark she unfastened her sword belt and pistol, wrapping the belt around the gun in the scabbard and handing the whole bundle to Cydric. She took one of the weird daggers she had taken from the elven... vault? Hall? in the mountains and tucked the blade down into the top of her boot. Fortunately there was no need to make herself look bedraggled, the brief fight had already seen to that.

"You will have to wait till they are all gathered around," she cautioned. If they didn't think she was helpless they might kill her the second anything happened. She cast a skeptical eye at Ivan as he unlimbered his recurve bow.

"Vot?" he asked in a rumbling whipser.

"Reiner, if he shoots me with that ..." Camilla began.

"Da Da not shoot ze pretty lady," he rumbled, his accent rendering it lie dee. Camilla took several deep breaths and set of through the brush, circling away from her comrades to approach from a different direction. Suddenly she was alone in the dark and she fought to keep her heart from beating its way out of her chest.

It took her a minute to work up her courage. Then she began to cry. Crying on queue was a useful skill, it nearly always bought you the extra heart beat you needed to put the boot in. The reaction from the sentries was immediate and predictable. For a moment they tensed and then exchanged looks of confusion. Camilla stood up and stumbled towards the light of their fires, weeping and sniffling as she went.

"Who's there?" she called out in tremulous Reikspiel working hard to keep the distress and the Brettonian accent in her voice.

"Please somebody help me." She was clear of concealment now stumbling as though injured in some fashion, into the illumination provided by standing torches stuck into the ground. Looks of concern changed to looks that better belonged on the faces of sharks.

"Over here girlie, we will help you wont we boys?!" he called out. THe men let up a raucous laugh. Camilla let out a little sob and took a few more steps towards them before pausing as though realizing her peril for the first time.

"Grab the bitch!" someone shouted and suddenly they were surging forwards seizing her with rough hands.

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic reluctantly conceded it was the best plan. He gave Camilla a wink when she spoke to him, and the three warriors patiently waited while Camilla did her act. It never ceased to amaze Cyrdic how well she could act. He was too dense to be able to put on a show for people. He guessed Camilla was just as brave as he in her own right, seeing her go out there weaponless.

The pirate 'sergeant' sneered lewdly as his men surrounded Camilla, hooting and making obscene gestures as they grabbed her. His leer was planted on his face even as Cyrdic separated his head from his shoulders, and punched one of the men grabbing Camilla with the hilt of his sword. Ivan and Skaldi ran in, butchering the men without mercy or pause, and Cyrdic pulled Camilla away from the melee, handing her the weapons she'd left, giving her a nod. "Good job."

He left her to finish up the rest, killing them without mercy. He didn't enjoy it, but he was desensitized to such things after his northern campaigns. They couldn't risk anyone escaping. Once they finished them, Cyrdic looked around at the pirate garbs. "Grab a few of their shirts and cloaks. Even if we get discovered...better to confuse them I think." He looked to the others to gauge their opinions.
@Penny

[Penny]

The boats glided across the water towards a large Island, almost but not quite a promontory where the Talabec kinked slightly. Down the river they could see the glow of the burning ships which still blocked the Imperial pride. That would have to be sorted out sooner rather than later. Fires could be seen on the island too, not wild uncontrolled blazes, but the normal cook fires of an encampment. A small barge, and several converted fishing smacks were pulled up on a pebbled beach, apparently unattended.

The small group was quiet, even Ivan and Skaldi had ceased their grumbling and boasting. Camilla privately view that as a bad sign, but it was sensible. Gilbrecht looked nervous and his hand gripped the steering oar with white knuckles. He saw her looking at him and raised an eyebrow, a slight blush coloring his cheeks, hard to see in the starlight, maybe impossible if you hadn't been trained as a courtesan to read people.

Myrimida knew she was scared, and she hadn't seen two of her friends die on this expedition already. She tried for an encouraging smile but it probably looked a little forced. A moment later they were scraping ashore on the pebble beach beside one of the fishing smacks. There was no way to know where the guards normally came ashore, but this seemed as likely a spot and no alarm had been raised yet.

"Reiner and I will take a look," she whispered, the rest of you stay here. The cloaks and cast of clothing were a good idea, but there was no way even an idiot could mistake the dwarf or the hulking Kislivite for members of the original party. Gilbrecht was arguably a better choice than she was but he was the only one she knew could sail the boat to get them out of here. Plus she hated to learn things second hand.

Together the two mercenaries walked towards the camp. THey didn't exactly sneak but they made no attempt to make themselves visible. The climbed up the shallow slope of the bank and over the roots of ancient trees. Hundreds of feet had worn the path so it was not difficult. As they reached to top however they flattened themselves out and peered over the slight rise. The center of the island was dominated by a small rocky hill. At the base of that hill was a ramshackle village made of salvaged lumber and fishing nets. In the center of it was a large wooden platform on which three figures stood with nooses tied around their necks. All looked like simple fishermen to Camilla's eye but it was hard to tell in the dark. A half dozen more figures stood tied together at the base of the platform. Behind them perhaps a score of men holding torches were listening to a slender looking man in a robe speak.

"... as traitors to the Emperor and to Sigmar your God!" the man roared. And before Camilla could so much as speak he pulled a lever and the floor dropped out from under the three bound men. Ropes around their necks snapped tight and a great cheer rose up from the crowd. Camilla recoiled violently dropping back behind a root and covering her mouth in shock.

"Cydric..." she half choked, "What is going on?!"

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic shook his head, confusion warring with suspicion was writ upon his face. He didn't know how to answer Camilla, but he intended to find out. "Keep your voice quiet," he whispered to her, his eyes locked on the slender man that stood before the crowd. He saw the leader turn, and display his hands outward as if summoning a great daemon.

"Hear me, brothers! Only by the light of Heldenhammer can we take back this land from the heretic and apostates! We shall not linger from our vigilance." His hawk eyed gazed fell upon the remaining prisoners. "Nor our punishments." With that, the hung men were cut from their ropes, and their bodies were dragged toward a makeshift pyre. What in the hell is going on, Cyrdic wondered? All of his life, he'd worshiped Sigmar, as any empire man would. Yes, he worshiped Ulric as well, and occasionally called upon Taal's guidance, but among those deities, Sigmar was the most enlightened. These...pirates dare preach in his name?

"We're going to find out the truth of it," he said to her, his voice filled with a dangerous edge despite his calm reserve. He didn't want to wantonly kill people that hadn't shown themselves as hostile. That is, until the men had dragged up three more prisoners. Among them was a young girl, no more than fourteen years old, by the looks of it. The lean leader slapped her across the face when she struggled, and Cyrdic had seen enough.

"Please!" She cried as she was yanked into a standing position. "Shallya's mercy! I've done no wrong!"

"Confess, slut!" He roared back, the flame of his torch so close to her it singed the bangs of her hair. Camilla could see Cyrdic's hand inching toward his aged pistol.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla let out a particularly vile curse in Tilean. By Ranald's teeth this was bad. If these really were Sigmarites then they should be on their way, preferably far away before they realized that some of their retainers had been murdered. Sigmar was no Tilean diety but she had heard plenty of him and his Witch Hunters since she came to the Empire. But why would Priests of Sigmar block the river, why use pirates like this? If the problem was big enough they could just bring in the army couldn't they.

What if the people down there really were corrupt. Worshipers of the Dark Ones? They had to do something.

"Find somewhere to hide, You'll have to meet us on the other side of the Island," she said to Cydric and then she was off racing down the embankment towards the boats the waved her hand frantically at Gilbrecht. The sailor was already backing the boat out with a long pole, she was pretty sure it was only the looming form of Petrovich that stopped him from rowing for all he was worth out onto the Talabec. Reaching the barge dragged up on the beech she vaulted over its low gunwale and onto the deck with an easy grace. Landing on a mass of rope she lost her footing and stumbled but caught herself on one of the ports for oars. Glancing around she found what she needed and seized a shuttered lantern from a hook.

With a muttered prayer to Ranald she hurled the lantern into the pile of rope with a glassy crash. The smell of lantern oil immediately overwhelmed the slightly fishy aroma of the barge as it soaked the rope. Drawing out her pistol she layed it flat against the oily rope and pulled the trigger. This time the priming caught and the gun went of with a boom that seemed deafening in the still night air. The flash out of the priming pan set the oil on fire with a wooosh and Camilla only barely avoided burning her hand as she jumped back. The fire spread with improbably speed, the decks must have been sealed with tar and polished with linseed oil as within moment hungry flames were climbing boards.

Camilla leapt from the barge onto the rocky shore and scrambled ungracefully across the beach to their own boat already a good ten feet out onto the water. She splashed into the Talabec shouting "FIRE! FIRE!" at the top of her lungs as she splashed into the water. She probably need not have bothered, there was no chance that the assembled crowd hadn't heard the pistol shot. She was perhaps three feet from the boat, she could see Skaldi holding a squirming Gilbrect with one arm, and fighting the current with the pole with the other, when the ground abruptly vanished from beneath her. Her mouth was still open to shout when she plunged beneath the surface of the river and she consequently took a great mouthful of river water.

Panic seized her and she began to thrash but then something grabbed her by the back of the neck and yanked her with force of a crossbow discharging. Ivan Petrovich deposited her on the deck of their own boat with the ease of dropping a sack of grain. Water burned at her throat as she coughed and spluttered. Gilbrect was shouting something but she couldn't focus for a moment.

"You need to watchs your feet Little Dove," he rumbled in amusement.

"Crazy Bitch what in Sigmar name are you doing?" Gilbrecht shriek. His eyes were very wide, she could see white all around them. Behind them on the beach the barge was burning with enthusiasm. Skaldi gave the youth an idle shake, as though perplexed at his apparent cowardice.

"You should have thrown some flames to the others Little Dove," Ivan went on, ignoring the sailor, "be harder to chase us if all boats are on fire da?"

"Would you stop calling me Little Dove," she protested weakly. Ivan shrugged, his face splitting into a grin. He made a gesture at her soaking clothes and the puddle of water around her. Maybe next time she set a ship on fire while running from a group of maybe religious fanatics she would remember to burn all the boats.

"Maybe I could go for Little Duck?" he asked innocently. Camilla managed a weak laugh as she pushed herself to her feet. She thought she could see angry figures cresting the ridge and she hoped that Cydric would be able to avoid them. There hadn't been any time to discuss things.

"Row," she called out, "we need to get around the Island before they figure out whats going on, Cydric needed a distraction." She thought Gilbrecht's eyes might bulge out of their sockets. It was perversely comforting to see someone more terrified then she was.

[Penny]

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

"What, by Ulric?" Cyrdic hissed, perplexed at Camilla's sudden disappearance. He was about to shout he didn't understand, but he realized shouting was not the best option at the moment. He cursed again, and then remembered the girl and whirled to face the sacrilegious questioning. He was on the brink of whether he should run or go and aid the prisoners. Luckily, the decision was made for him when a very real gunshot was heard from across the bank.

He's definitely question Camilla once he saw her again. The broad shouldered man had at once realized that as soon as the firearm had been discharged, the score of men had turned to look at him. He froze, and then suddenly shouted 'they're over there!' towards the eastern shore, not away and not toward where the actual noise had happened. With that, he hunkered down and sped as fast as he could around the small hillock, crouched.

He popped his head up when the land sloped up, much closer to the makeshift gallows. He gazed around, and only saw one man milling about to watch the prisoners. Cyrdic hustled over to him, acting very much out of breath, pointing toward the shoreline. "Orcs!" He claimed, causing the man to look at him with fear. "What? Greenskins, here?"

He didn't have time to finish his thought before Cyrdic walloped him across the head. The man fell like a poleaxed-ox. With that done, Cyrdic took out a long knife and began undoing the straps on the prisoners. "Quiet" he told them. They thanked him by Ranald, Taal, and Sigmar, but he scolded them to keep calm and silent as he freed them. Once he reached the three up top, he freed the young girl first.

"Oh Ulric, thank you sir," she wheezed, tears streaming down her cheeks. The young woman embraced Cyrdic. "Be strong, young one," one of the other prisoners next to her said. The two next to her looked almost as muscled as Cyrdic, with bushy beards and hard eyes. He knew a fellow veteran soldier when he saw one. They were about a decade older than he, with skin like leather.

"Follow me," he told them. Cyrdic had almost believed this had gone without a hitch, before he heard a cry from the village. "Traitors! Men, the prisoners are escaping!"

---

"Well long legs," Skaldi said nonchalantly to Camilla as he held Gilbrecht in one, muscled arm. "There's yer Manling." The Dawi nodded toward the shoreline, and 6 people ran straight for the shore as Cyrdic guarded their flanks, his broadsword flashing and blocking spear and cutlass thrusts from pursuing pirates. A gunshot went off, and one of the fleeing prisoners fell into the sand, dead.
@Penny

[Penny]

"Admittedly I didn't plan for pirates to be chasing him," Camilla confessed as she heaved at her oar. Well no one had appointed her Captain General of Pavona had they? Skaldi let Gilbrect go and grabbed the oar Ivan released as he saw Cydric running across the beach. Gilbrecht immediately reached for the tiller bar to turn them away from the beach but the Kislivite turned a baleful eye on the sailor, freezing him in his tracks.

"You no exactly Captain General of Pavona," Ivan rumbled. Camilla did a momentary double take at the statement, not only because it so closely resembled her own thought, but because she would have bet good money Ivan couldn't even point in the direction of Tilea. The Kislivite wasn't sparing her attention just now though, instead he raised that strange horsebow of his and loosed an arrow. From the scream he hit someone but there was no time to look.

"We are going to hit the beach," Gilbrecht chirruped in alarm. Skaldi let out a roaring laugh.

"That's the idea manling!"

A second later there was a scraping sound, the shore here was sand rather than rock, so the bottom didn't tear out, but the impact smashed Skaldi and Camilla against their oar. Ivan was already off the boat and wading through the calf deep water with murder in his eyes. Skaldi looked at the water skeptically, his lesser height a distinct disadvantage. Camilla badly wished she could stay on the boat but this was her plan and she could hardly hold back now.

"Stay and help Gilbrecht guard the boat," she told the dwarf somewhat euphemeistically, and then leapt over the gunwale into the waist deep water and waded as quickly as she could towards the beach. Hoping there weren't enough pirates left to kill them, inspite of her oh so clever trick.
@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Good thing the entire score had not come to fight them. The companions were too tired and too drenched to do as well as they did last time. The number against them was two to one, and though numbers were on the pirate's side, they hadn't counted on reinforcements for the prisoners.

Cyrdic fought like a wounded wolf, snarling and moving on instict, his sword flashing to and fro. He stabbed and chopped, running another pirate through and shoving the dying man to the sand as the prisoners streamed past them. The young girl's two bodyguards halted however, picking up fallen swords and joining Cyrdic, Ivan, and Camilla in a counter offensive. They fought like they were born to the sword, and the aggressive attack stunned the pirates, who were swiftly cut down where they stood.

Ivan gave a laugh, boasting these pirates were simple brigands. "Ihve faught muach werse, my friends" he said, looking almost disappointed at the lack of sport once the other two prisoners had joined the fray. Cyrdic shook his head, and then thanked the two captured soldiers who had come to their aid.

"Anything to protect the lady Todbringer," one said, giving a nod in return. Cyrdic was about to call and cast off, but he blinked and looked at the guard with amazement. "Who?" He asked incredulously.

"All will be explained in full, but let us get to safety first." the other replied, and they managed to cast off with the rescued men and women, as well as the remaining companions.
@Penny

[Penny]

The boat was overloaded. Camilla knew this because she watched the water rise to within a hairs breath of the freeboards. There were just too many people crammed onto it. Fortunately Gilbrecht was a true river man. He kept the bow pointed as straight up river as he could, minimizing the rivers ability to push up over the edge. In some ways the low freeboard was an advantage. One of the pirate fishing smacks was underway, visible by the glow of lanterns aboard her. The pirates evidently assumed that their prey would take the easy way down river and the ship moved steadily away from them, silent and invisible a few scant inches above the darkened Talabec.

In the distance the line of burning ships still glowed. It was a sullen red light now, the heat of the earlier blazes cooled to the few parts of the ships that could remain above the waterline.

"Well," Camilla said and the entire compliment of the boat seemed to jump. Everyone had been holding their tongues for fear of giving away their position it seemed. Her words seemed to break some spell as people finally realized they had managed to escape afterall.

"All that and we still cant get back to the Pride." Suddenly everyone was talking at once.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

"We'll need to bank soon," Gilbrecht said, though his words were drowned out by the group talking among themselves. Cyrdic jested that they always seemed to end up into trouble (speaking to Camilla), and he nudged her with a smile that spoke volumes about how he appreciated having his ass saved. Skaldi seemed to mutter about how much he disliked boats, especially such a shoddily made one. True ships were made of steel.

The rescued prisoners did their best not to wail when they weren't shivering.Gilbrecht tried to get others to listen, but they had none of it and kept chatting among themselves until Cyrdic ordered them with a prompt 'shut up,' using the tone of voice he often used when ordering men serving under him.

He turned to the younger woman, and her two retainers. "Now, I don't mean to be too pushy. You're a brave girl for surviving what you have. All of you are-" he said, looking to the rescued people. "But tell us, who are you? Why do you have such capable men fighting under you?"

The young girl seemed to sink into her seat, looking around as if she expected the pirates to appear out of the water. When she spoke, her North Middenland accent was clear. "I'm Jiselle Todbringer," she said. "My uncle is Boris Todbringer." That revelation brought a gasp from a few of the boat, and even the stoic Cyrdic look stunned. "T-The Graf of Middenland and Count of Middenheim?" he asked her.

She nodded shyly, and continued. "Brom and Jory are my guards, and Swords of Ulric." She began to trail off, and one of the men spoke up. "We were visiting one of her aunts in Ostermark, and took the Talabec homeward until we were waylaid by river Orcs. We fought off the beasts, but we lost many and were ambushed by the brigands." He sounded more annoyed than terrified.

The scarred soldier gave a look to Camilla, and then did the best bow he could in such tight and precarious quarters. "I am Reiner, and this is my friend, Vivvienne." He said, presenting Camilla by a gesture of his hand. "If it wasn't for her plans, I wouldn't have been able to rescue you and the others. The large one is Ivan, the boatman is Gilbrecht, and Skaldi is the Dwarf."

"Worry not, little one." Skaldi said, patting Jiselle on her golden haired head. "Yer safe now. Grungi protects."
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla suppressed a low whistle, she might not know the name of every local Baron in the Empire, but she certainly knew who the Count of Middenheim was. Instead she forced herself to sketch a rough curtsey to Jiselle in the Brettonian fashion. It wasn't much in the confines of the boat but the girl brightened immediately at the familiar gesture.

"You have my and my uncles thanks Herr Reiner," she said, "The Knights of the White Wolf will surely toast your deeds."

"Aye," said the swordsman, Jory, and he seized Cydric's hand in a reluctant but strong grip, "And my thanks as well by the Winter." His voice remained unenthusiastic, despite what was clearly high praise. The moment was broken when the boat ground onto the bank of the river to Camilla and clearly to Gilbrecht's great delight. It had been a near thing to going under.

The two sworsdman wasted no time in carrying the girl ashore, clearly eager she not get wet. It seemed an absurd precaution, seeing they had soaked the girl when they dragged her into the boat and she was filthy besides.

The peasants too thumped ashore eagerly and look set to disappear into the trees.

"Wait," Camilla called to them climbing out of the boat and wading ashore. Most of them didn't but one, a tall fellow with lanky blond hair and a pock marked face turned to look at her as she waded onto dry land.

"Who was that priest, and why were those pirates hanging people?" she demanded, shivering at the memory of the men falling from the gallows.

"They were enemies of our Lord, we were taken to the island because our Lord willed it. To ensure that you came to take back the Lady of the Mountain," the man responded as though the words were the most matter of fact thing in the world. One of the swordsman stepped infront of the girl, sensing something was wrong, even if he didn't understand quite what.

"You knew they would take you? They killed some of you yet you went willingly?" Camilla asked incredulously. The lanky man shrugged as though her confusion was perplexing.

"We needed you to come and take back the Lady of the Mountain. It was important the advesary didn't have her," the fellow went on in his maddeningly reasonable tone. He smiled at her encouragingly as though she were a particularly bright child putting together the pieces of a puzzle.

"The Fisher King we have been hearing about, he sent you didn't he," she said in a soft voice, her eyes cutting to Jisele who's eyes immediately widened. The lanky man's smile was like the dawn.

"Of course," he said simply and then turned and disappeared into the treeline, following the others. The stomach fell out of the bottom of Camilla's stomach as he did.

END OF CHAPTER TWO
@POOHEAD189

[Penny]

Collected Correspondence of Professer Aldolphus Maximillian Krieger. University of Altdorff. Unpublished.

Editors note: Dear Tybalt. If you ever make me edit this sort of trash again I swear by Shallya's Holy Tits I will kill you. ~ Mathis

University of Altdorf
11 Sigmarzeist
Professor Kreiger
Department of Literature

Dear Khol, (1)

Although I appreciate your interest in the topic of the Ciricula for Lungistic studies, I fear you are straying rather far from your area of expertise. The suggestion that I include the Chansan du Jest (2) in my introduction to Brettonian literature is particularly foolhardy.

While the later Chansans (sic) do reflect the embryonic Romance tradition almost all stories in the cycle are poorly dated and corrupt (3). The earliest Chansans, to the extent we may have any confidence in them, appear to reflect a preGiliean tradition that may not be indigenous to Brettonia at all (4).

It is thought by historians that Brettonians migrated into their kingdom some time after the Time of Sigmar but before the solidification of the Empire. As such they would have been members of the Unbergeon (sic) tribal groupings and carried the pre-Sigmarite religious moraes, though there has never been any record of these existing within the Brettonian literary canon(5).

Early Chansans have a preoccupation with a particular type of heroic journey, whereby a Jackass(6) progresses through a world of allegorical challenges in order to achieve a goal which is intentionally obscure. This differs radically from the goal of a Romance, where a knight proves himself worthy of a lady or the Lady by his profession of arms.

Romantic heroes encounter strange beings to demonstrate the quality of their own ethos. Chansan heros are more concerned with the effect allegory has on the world. As such they encounter mysterious beings, talking sphynx, Fisher Kings, animate statues and the like, not to reaffirm the world but to change it in some abstract fashion. Frequently such stories are not about the heroes at all, but rather about some abstract play of forces in which the hero becomes somehow entwineded (7).

Im certain you can see how this sort of literature does not fit the general pattern of Brettonian literature at all and thus to call for its inclusion for first year students is beyond foolish.

He appears to begin paraphrasing Bretonian poetry at this point, as best I can tell the general point of which is to mock Kohl's intelligence and sexual prowess. It is so badly mispelled that I have chosen to omit it.

In conclusion Dear Kohl,
I neither require nor desire you input as to my ciriculum.
Av Reior (8)
Kreiger
(9)

(1)Helmut Kohl served as the Master of Languages at this time, given their history, the ‘dear’ is ironic
(2)Chanson de Geste. Literally every word is misspelled. Every. Single. Word.
(3)Actually most of the work in this tradition is dated by regnal year
(4)He conflates this with Gilies de Breton for some reason, even though that is well into the Romance era
(5)Ulric is mentioned repeatedly in nearly all pre Romance literature. How did this guy become a professor?
(6)He appears to have unironically translated Jacque. A generic person in Brettonian lit, the same way we might use the name Karl to represent the average citizen of the Empire.
(7)Entwineed? Really? Sigmar save Reikspiel.
(8)Au revoir?
(9)Seriously Tybalt. I will kill you.

[POOHEAD189]

Chapter 3

I've never written much. Only when I needed to, if I am being honest. When we went back to the ruin of the Imperial Pride, I found a pad and in ink pen among a man's body, and decided it was time to put my forced skill into work. Recovering the Ornate Sword and whatever treasures we could, Camilla and I escorted Jiselle and her two Swords of Ulric over the Howling Hills and through what the Middenlanders aptly name 'The Old Forest Road' toward Middenheim. Skaldi had said he could never return to being a cook after having the best scrape he'd had in many years, but his business at Karak Kadrin had us parting company. Ivan needed to meet a long lost cousin in Talabheim, and Gilbrecht was nowhere to be found... The road was dark and ominous, but other than a small skirmish with Beastmen, we arrived unscathed. Little did I know this would be the true beginning to the adventures of Cyrdic and Camilla, Dogs of War.

---

When Cyrdic looked upon the City of the White Wolf, he was in awe. From there the bastion of Imperial Civilization could hold out if every Norscan of the North invaded. Tall walls above a perfect defensive position, with a looming cannon amid chains that could hold a giant gazing down the only entrance available to the city. Unless his eyes were cheated by some spell, a woman riding a pegasus flew over them and landed amid what had to be the Graf's palace.

Jiselle seemed overjoyed, with Jory and Brom escorting all of them through the most prudent route toward the Graf's Palace. Camilla and Cyrdic would gain brief views of the wide, stout streets filled with refugees and citizens, along with sounds of revelry, but they hadn't the time. The five entered through the Konigsgarten, to greet a Knight of the White Wolf stationed at its back. The tall man was clad in a wolf's pelt, with a beard even more robust than Brom's and Jory's, and to Cyrdic's surprise, his eyes lingered on his ornate sword, before he commanded them to follow him.

Without delay, the Knight ushered them into the Graf's Palace, escorting 'Reiner' and 'Vivvienne to a waiting foyer. Inside the palace, the stark white stone amid the Middenland tapestries and great paintings of warfare, Cyrdic felt as if he was out of his element. He had never been in such a place before, so he made sure to make his best impression, shoulders were arched and his chin up, his iron eyes steeled. He sat next to Camilla upon a bench, and was under guard by three more Knights as they awaited to be summoned.
@Penny

[Penny]

Imperials and Tileans clearly had very different ideas about what constituted a palace. Camilla had seen prisons with more warmth and architectural ambition than this place. It was a fortress. A fortress inside a fortress atop a fortress. An invincible bastion which no conceivable army could threaten, it made her feel small.

The knights guarding them looked as grim as the mountain itself. Full bushy beads and hard grim faces. She fought down an urge to try to get them to smile, just to see what would happen. In the back of her mind she wondered if they should have slipped away from Jisele and her party, saving the Count's niece wouldn't save them if it was discovered they were wanted for murder back in Ostland, but they could hardly abandon the girl given what she had already gone through, and the far greater risk of travel by road.

She was about to ask Cydric about it when one of the vast wooden doors at the end of the chamber opened and a portly man with a ruddy face and dark intelligent eyes emerged. He was sumptuously dressed in a fur trimmed robe and jeweled rings several sizes too small constricted his fingers. The man waddled over with a welcoming smile on his face.

"Ah Herr Reiner," he said, his voice seemingly too high for such a big man, "and mademoiselle Vivvienne." He shook Cyrdric's hand and took hers and sketched out the Brettoninan bow and mimed kissing it. His paunch prevented him from bending down far enough to complete the gesture gracefully and he settled for the mime. In due course she sketched a curtsy as best she could while wearing trousers, using the hem of her hunting shirt in place of the dress a lady ought be wearing for such an occasion. That seemed to please the man.

"I am Osforth, the Graf's chamberlain, he bade me to bring you to the audience chamber so that you might be received and recognized for your heroic service to Middenland." He smiled a sunny smile that looked natural on his round face.

"Might I have your last names so we can officially announce, you, I'm afraid this affair has all be rather rushed," he explained with a bureaucrats disapproval for anything that trampled on sacred procedure. Camilla was suddenly thinking very fast.

"Vivvienne Du Couronne," she supplied quickly, giving Cydric time to think. Osforth frowned slightly at that.

"Indeed mademoiselle? I would have taken you for noble blood." Camilla coughed politely into her hand.

"Noble blood Lord Chamberlin, but the wrong side of the blanket, an affair of the heart I'm afraid," she responded easily, providing just enough information for him to draw his own conclusions. She thought that amusement sparkeled in his eyes for a moment.

"Indeed, things are done a little differently in Brettonia I suppose." He was apparently content to let the matter rest because he turned to Cydric.

"And you, good fellow?"

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic felt much more comfortable in this fortress of northern strength, but simultaneously felt very much out of his element. He had never exactly been comfortable with lying or acting. He drew himself up, and gave the chamberlain a salute with his fist when it was his turn to present him. "Reiner Wulfhofen," Cyrdic said. His voice was steady and firm, and the chamberlain seemed satisfied with that.

"Very good," he said, eyes switching between them. "Follow me, if you will."

The man shuffled back from whence he came, ushering Cyrdic and Camilla through the small door and into a room far vaster than Cyrdic had anticipated. The ceiling looked taller than a giant, and the white stonewalls made it seem as if they had walked into a world of snow. Two men wearing Nordland colors had just been dismissed, walking past Cyrdic and Camilla toward a far larger doorway than the one they entered. A small crowd of retainers stood at the side, but Ostforth led both of the Mercs to the center of the courtroom.

Sitting upon his throne was a lean man, fierce of visage and red bearded. His eyes were a penetrating blue-grey. To his right was Jisele, who seemed happy to see Camilla and Cyrdic before her. To his left was an attractive female of dark hair, resplendent in golden robes. Most likely a mage, and Cyrdic realized she must have been the one riding on the pegasus.

"My count Todbringer, I have here the esteemed Vivvienne Du Couronne, and her traveling companion Reiner Wulfhofen," he said with a bow, and with practiced ease, moved to the side. Cyrdic held his head up high, and to his surprise, Boris stood up and strode down the steps of his throne to stand before the two of them.

"I never thought I'd be indebted to a Brettonian and and Ostlander, but here I stand," he said, snorting a laugh. The count placed a hand upon Cyrdic's shoulder, staring into his eyes. "My niece tells me you and the lady Vivvienne saved her from a grisly fate. For that, you have my truest thanks." Despite the dangerous fire in his eyes, Cyrdic could tell he was being honest. He truly cared for the girl.

"I shall tell her father and mother of her safe travels, and who is responsible," the count continued.

"Your men Brom and Jory did well," Cyrdic said, which Boris gave an approving nod of. "I'll be sure to remember that." The count gazed downward, and eyed his ornate sword. Recognition dawned on his face. "Where did you get that, herr Wulfhofen?" he asked bluntly, Boris' gaze now shined with an intensity.

Cyrdic wasn't a good liar, and he felt uncomfortable doing it in front of such a forthwright man, so he told the truth. Giving a small summary of Camilla and he in the Middlemountains, finding it amid the rubble of a forgotten cavern. Boris listened, and then replied with. "If you were another man, I would take that blade from you, for its one of the Fangs of Ulric."

"A sword of ancient power," the female wizard said, piping in. She gazed at Cyrdic with a professional air. "Only five have ever been forged. They've power to rival the runefangs, I hear..."

"But, you are a stout and trustworthy man, and you saved my niece. The blade is yours," Boris said, and switched his gaze to Camilla. "Are you lovers?" he asked. Cyrdic was taken aback by the question, and Boris actually laughed. "Dammit man, I'm merely asking if I should prepare one room or two for our guests. We've no room in the palace, but the Boars Feast will have rooms for you, on my honor, and my gold. You'll want for nothing, of course."

Next, he would speak to Camilla.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla made her slight curtsey to the Count who smiled his wintry smile at her.

"And you mademoiselle, my niece has spoken much about you." Camilla blinked, a little taken aback by the words and the Count made a gesture to the girl, who blushed slightly.

"Oh now don't be modest, according to her you cut your way through a dozen bandits single handed, it will be all I can do to dissaude her from applying for a commission in the Reiksguard I fear," the Count went on, Jisele blushed even brighter and Camilla understood. Of course the girl had been excited to see a female warrior and had predictably overplayed her part.

"Your niece is too kind My Lord," she replied giving the girl a surreptitious wink as she did so.

"It is unusual for a Brettonian woman to bear arms isn't it?" the Count asked. Camilla nodded her head emphatically.

"Yes My Lord, I'm a bit of a black sheep I am afraid," she replied keeping her accent in place. She was painful aware that many here were far more familiar with Brettonian than the rustics she had used it on up to this point. The count merely nodded.

"Well you have my thanks, and a more tangible reward which you will find waiting for you at the Boars Head. You can decide if you want to share a room on the way," he said giving her another grin with just a touch of humor. The Wizard's eyes continued to bore into her as the Count turned away to other business. SHe did her very best not to let out a relieved breath as the chamberlain gestured them back out of the chamber.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic gave a bow to both Boris and the Wizard. He was very much suspicious of magic, but he was also very much perturbed by the appraising way the woman looked at him, and the off putting way she gazed at Camilla. He felt as if she would use him for one of her experiments, and she'd unleashed it upon his companion. Though he supposed he needn't fear her. A man like Boris Todbringer wouldn't have her on his staff if she was not somewhat trustworthy. But then he trusted me, as well. That thought brought a twist to his stomach.

Cyrdic and Camilla were escorted out of the Palace by Knights of the White Wolf, being taken through a far less grand entrance as most of the other distinguished guests. Cyrdic was not certain if that was so because they had not been expected, or if Boris did not wish to announce to anyone that his family was often vulnerable on the road.

The Chamberlain halted them at the edge of the Konigsgarten, giving them his elderly smile. "The Boar's Head is merely three streets eastward of the Palace. It's quite a nice Inn," he told them, and handed Cyrdic and Camilla two pendants, wrought in the likeness of a Wolf's head. "Show these to the Innkeeper, and he will know you have the Graf's favor and protection. Food, drink, rooms, are paid for. We will contact you when next we wish to speak to you."

With that, the duo was subsequently dumped into the street as it were. It seemed there was little time for ceremony in Middenland. Cyrdic did not particularly mind. "That could have gone worse," Cyrdic said to Camilla as they began to walk through the city streets. The stone roads led both of them through a marketplace, where men haggled and traded for all manners of pelts, spices, trinkets, and foodstuffs. Vendors of various trades occupied the lanes, ranging from apothecaries to armor smiths. A man juggled balls lit on fire, and a woman stood upon two fingers, her legs posed above her head. One man hailed Camilla with a necklace Cyrdic suspected was fake, claiming her beauty needed such jewelry to be accentuated.

Merry music played and lingered in the air as the two of them passed into the next street, where brothels and taverns filled the ways with all manners of leisure and pleasure. Cyrdic didn't even look when a few heavily rogued women called for him to join them, and they passed by an uproarious tavern where a Dwarf bouncer threw out a lanky, bleeding man.

When they turned the corner to the final street, there were a few lesser Inns that clung to the Boar's Head. It was quite a large establishment, with a statue of Ulric standing at its fore, fully thrice the height of a man and wrought of iron. The Boar's Head was three stories, with men and women milling about and speaking among themselves at its archway.

"I feel as if it would be better for a single room, and I'll sleep on the floor again. I'd rather private quarters so we can speak among ourselves," He breathed to Camilla. "Though I won't blame you if you want privacy."

They entered the archway, passing courtly gentlemen and posh ladies. Even an Elf mingled with the crowd, laughing whimsically. "All I ask is we get a drink and some food while we speak to the Inn keeper." He said, a bit louder. Cyrdic gave her a grin. "Perhaps they have some Tilean Ale, eh?"
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla nodded her head in agreement.

"I like a single room too," she replied thoughtfully, "easier to defend and more privacy, best not to be too indiscreet though..." any place run by the Count likely had facility for eavesdropping not that it was likely he would use it of course.

They entered the boars head without incident. Despite its boisterous nature it was definitely a higher class of tavern. Dark polished wood seemed to be the overwhelming theme, giving the place a warm homeyness compared to the barefaced stone that made up most of the city she had seen thus far. Expensive wax candles rather than the usual smokey tapers lit the place with a soft glow and although it smelled of ale, the usual sour stench of sweat and vomit was absent.

After a searching glance from the bouncer landed on their pendants they were admitted and a barmaid a few years older but with the full figure of an Imperial woman bustled over to their table and took their orders. Camilla ordered ale and some of the rich stew that was simmering in a large cauldron over a fire as well as a few loaves of the crust bread on display on a shelf above the bar. Within minutes the hot fresh food was piled up in front of them. The ale was cloudy and cold, as though it had been stored in an earthenware pot rather than a keg and it was the most delicious brew Camilla could remember tasting.

"What do you think the chamberlain meant when he said he would contact us 'when he next needed to speak to us'" Camilla asked, but before Cydric could answer the serving maid sashayed her way back across the room with refills of ale.

"Do you have a bath house?" Camilla asked when the barmaid, before she could turn away .

"Yes Milady, out the back, shall I draw you a bath?" she asked with formal propriety.

"Yes, heat the water please, and see if you can find some soap," the maid looked dubious but nodded.

"And for you as well sir?" she asked Cydric, her tone a good deal warmer than it had been for Camilla and with fluttering eyelashes to boot.

"Do you need a bath, or is there anything else I can get for you?"

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic ate his fill. He wasn't used to eating in the manner of polite company, but he did not fling food around like some barbarian either, and realize there were two rather attractive looking women close to him. He placed a closed fist to his broad chest and bumped it a bit to help the food ease down. He guessed he had eaten a bit fast, but he hadn't truly been served food in a very long time.

The ale was fine, if a bit hearty. Though truth be told, that was just how he enjoyed his ale. Perhaps the two outlaws could actually relax without worry. He was certainly feeling much more sore after the long road, and the hike up the mountain. Even he had to rest sometime. The maid strode back and forth, always seeming to be just next to Cyrdic whenever he turned his head. Of course Cyrdic was a bit dense when it came to such things, so he simply though the service here was very good.

Though when she fluttered her lashes, he couldn't help but notice. He'd been so focused on the food, after all. Oh well, nothing usually comes of such things, he told himself. "Yes, I'd love a bath," he said. "If you could heat the water as well, that would be very fine." He told her, and placed a silver crown on the table for her as a tip.
@Penny