User has no status, yet


User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

Cadmon Demet

@VitaVitaAR@Raineh Daze

"Standard tactics would be sending out a basic raid without intent to immediately back them up, and without using them for nothing more than mild testing of the enemy defences," Cadmon said slowly. "Assuming this cult hasn't completely set their own brains to rot like the corpses they dig up, the initial plan is more likely to be ignored as an obvious trick than it is to be taken as bait. It's neither standard nor effective from my view."
Cadmon Demet

@VitaVitaAR@Raineh Daze

Cadmon quickly turned his gaze to Gisela, a deeper frown than her own on his face. "Then I suppose you'd like to dispense with the initial plan as well?" he asked, with a short nod to Velvetica. "Both entail us splitting apart our forces, after all, and I doubt that any of us are so lacking in sensibility that we'd leave whoever we send out as bait, in whichever manner, so wanting for aid so long—nor, assuming we pick who goes into my suggestion carefully, would they be so foolish as to strand each other.

"In either scenario, the rest of us will be close enough to step in when the time is right. Miss Lambert will be ready as soon as their defences are opened enough to go and remove the threat of their necromancer or necromancers. Otherwise, we may as well commit to a direct assault rather than play around with any attempted subterfuge and ambush."
Cadmon Demet


"Perhaps I'm expecting too much intelligence from our target," Cadmon started slowly, turning from Guillaume back to the wider discussion. "But this seems a bit too transparent, unless we intend to put our helpful merchant in harm's way. If they're even remotely competent—and given the success they've been having, we've no reason to assume they aren't—they'll have some clue that they've been watched. Tracked. Some clue that we're here." It would be utterly ridiculous if this cult thought otherwise, given that Velvetica's band was not exactly small.

If they somehow weren't aware, he'd execute their leader himself given the chance for the sheer stupidity of it. "For a strategy like that, we'd be better off waiting for an actual supply train to use as unwitting bait. Let them lull themselves into a false sense of security, thinking that we're giving them time to work, prepare, or simply remove themselves. Otherwise, I imagine they're expecting us to commit full force like a band of holy warriors seeking to...I don't know, stamp out their blight from the land or some such.

"I suggest we do something they wouldn't expect, but would put their trust in, and treat them as a genuine military target." He sweeped his hand to encompass the two next to him, his knuckles rapping against István's breastplate at the end of the gesture as he pointed to Urden with the other. "Send out our own smaller raiding parties. Skirmishers from the vanguard, testing their defences. Lighter groups, but still tantalizing targets. They'll think they can fairly safely hunt down and kill these raiders we send to test their mettle, add their corpses and any of their own fallen to their forces, and that we'll be waiting for the return of any survivors and their word—giving these cultists time to fortify, or perhaps to achieve their goal and vacate the area."

All standard, by the book tactics, up to that point. Send out the expendables to determine the strength of the enemy force, wait and draw up a new plan if they turn out to be stronger than initially estimated. "Instead, against common practice, we'll populate these raiding parties with some of our best, who can make sure to draw these brigands out, make them commit more than they otherwise might have. Not expecting that we'll be far closer than they expect, and after they've spread their lines thin we can mount our full assault: Our main can envelop their extended parties sent chasing our raiders, cleaning them up quickly as we all recombine and push into them. Accelerating the course of the battle, rather than attempting a deception which seems—to me—too likely to be caught on."
Fionn MacKerracher

@Psyker Landshark@VitaVitaAR@Krayzikk

With a small amount of surprise, Fionn nodded at the other knight that came walking up behind them. He hadn't really been expecting anybody to follow him in particular, rather that they'd all elect to see to securing the keep and the princesses within. Overkill, certainly, but no one would be brave enough to suggest it was too much for the future ruler of the kingdom and her younger sister. Seeing that it was the same knight from his hall that immediately got down to brass tacks trying to figure out what was happening, however, wasn't so surprising. It only made sense that the first one to ask after what was going on would be the one to join the goings-on.

"Aye," he muttered at Renar's words, glancing over the horses in the stable. He could recognize his own not far away, as well as some others that he generally liked from among those kept for common use. Precious few were already saddled and ready to go, the stablehands roused at Renar's arrival having gone as quickly as they could. Not that it mattered much, given that all they were doing was riding; beyond that, Fionn wasn't the sort to fight from horseback anyways, and he was still getting used to a saddle. He waved the last night on at the last horse that was already saddled; another had bridle and reins, but nothing more than a blanket atop the back and withers.

He stepped forward, grasping reins and mane both, and swung himself atop the animal. "No time for that, lad!" he said to one of the stablehands rushing up carrying a saddle, waving them out of the way before the horses took off from their stalls and thundered out into the night, falling into place beside Renar and just behind Nico's lead. He was somewhat glad for the darkness of night as they rode—no doubt Renar would be bothered at the sight later, given that just as much as Fionn would propose extra tricks and techniques his way for sword fighting, Renar was often trying to get Fionn to be a better, more proper rider. Cavalry work. Bareback riding was not entirely conducive to the way mounted knights fought.

Not that Fionn had any illusions of using a horse for the purpose of being anything more than mobile infantry, of course, but it was good to humour his friend. Even if only because it might buy him some extra leeway if he ever found himself chiding the man like the day before. Rather than think too long on how Renar might react to his riding later, though, he looked out, peering into the darkness as much as he was able with the starlight and Nicomede's lantern. "How far is the mausoleum from Candaeln, anyways?"
Cadmon Demet


Though his face remained as blank as ever, internally Cadmon wanted to swear at the news that came from their scouts. While it wasn't entirely unexpected, he'd been hoping to avoid necromancers and their ilk. Hoping for a quick end to the banditry and raids, a minimum of lives lost, and on to the next task. The likelihood that they'd be sending people in to die against undead that would refuse to stay down when they should was one he didn't want to deal with.

However necessary it was to purge this evil before it could dig deeper roots, it felt like a waste of lives when there were those with skills more apt for the excision of such a blight. If only they were here. But they weren't, and this band of the Lions was. Still...make the necromancers themselves sick, and their ability to control the hordes is diminished. Kill any outright and their servants fall with them. With any luck, we could still use Kayliss—

He was roused from his thoughts as one of the nearby knights addressed him. His memories of Guillaume were rather vague, as young as he'd been when last he'd seen The Sincere. It wouldn't surprise him in the least if he was nearly as old now as the elder man had been when he'd left. Before he had the chance to respond, István jumped in to the answer the question thrown to both of them; all the better, for it gave Cadmon the chance to think over his own.

It seems news doesn't travel fast at all. First Lord Hraesleg had no clue what had happened to his parents, and now Guillaume. Perhaps the royal family themselves didn't yet know.

He returned István's glance, before looking back to Guillaume. "At least one finds himself well—most of the time. The others have yet to send me any complaints, and with Sir Shilage as their example in addressing me, I'm taking that as a good sign."
Fionn MacKerracher

@Psyker Landshark@VitaVitaAR@Krayzikk

At Maletha's barely audible thanks, Fionn stripped off a gauntlet and patted her head before turning to walk deeper into the castle. While there was little he needed to grab, a more substantial belt to take the hauberk's weight would be far preferable to what he had at the moment—and a cloak to cover the mail and muffle his constant clanking and jingling would be useful in the event that the necromancer had anybody that escaped from the mausoleum scouting things out or preparing to seal the entrance. Unlikely, but if there were any such, he didn't want them getting alerted on his approach and entombing his friends.

Of course, by this point his approach was alerting other knights from their rooms, stepping out into the hall to see him go past. Some still fully dressed, others in nightclothes, yet others clearly having just woken up as the castle started to spring back into activity. "MacKerracher? Weren't you just at a ball?"

"Aye," he replied, continuing along. "Should've been there, lads."

"The hell's going on, Fionn?"

He turned to the next voice. The knight was a bit older than him, but not one he really knew the name of. "Assassination attempt. Princesses are here now, assassin's in the infirmary, captain's hunting down a necromancer who started all of it." The knights standing in the hallway stared at him, likely just as shocked by his blasé explanation of events as by the events themselves. Of course, the fact that his borrowed gauntlets and hauberk were covered in blackened residue and scratches from the miniature devil that had appeared to try and finish the murder likely didn't help matters.

"What's the plan?"

He shrugged.

"Grab a better belt and meet Renar at the stables to double back and help the captain down in the Cazt mausoleum. Come with if you like." With that, he passed the final few doors before finding the entrance to his own quarters, ducking inside quickly. A more substantial belt was quick to find, stripping off the one he'd been using and transferring his dagger over. Satisfied that the mail now wouldn't hang so heavily from his shoulders, he pulled one of his cloaks tight around himself, pinning it at his throat and stepping back into the hall. Noise was coming from the other rooms, but he didn't pay it much mind. Either they'd dress fast enough to meet at the stables or they'd catch up after the group started out, or they'd say behind.

Not really his problem at that point.

After a quick detour to the kitchen to gulp down something to keep his throat wet and take some scraps to eat along the way, he found Renar and Nicomede already waiting for him. "Anybody coming up behind me?" he asked as he approached. He hadn't really been inclined to attempt any active recruiting for the task—even with the circumstances of his birth affecting things, Renar likely had more experience and comfort doing such than Fionn ever would. He preferred to just dive into things and let people follow as they would, whether that changed the number from three to five or to twenty.
Cadmon Demet

@Psyker Landshark@HereComesTheSnow@Eisenhorn

Of course, there was no way he could be seen walking around with nearly anybody without István having some sort of comment to make on it. Before he had the chance to make much reply, though, a mug of hot coffee was thrust into his hands. He accepted it wordlessly, bringing it up to his lips to take a sip, as Kayliss glared at the larger man. The mercenary, for his part, quickly introduced himself, jabbing back at István for him.

"Don't let her sharp tongue deceive you, she is lovely company," he interjected before either of the others had a chance to respond. "Intelligent, composed, and not so fragile as to take my flat affect for an insult." He took another sip of the bitter liquid in his cup. "I don't think I'm the one who needs to worry about peril, for now."

Hopefully none of them would; they had more important things to do than trade jabs and threats with each other, after all. "Now. I was planning for the three of us—now four—to be there when Lady Velvetica debriefed her scouts, and I'm fairly certain I saw plumage weaving between the tents. Let's hurry along."
Fionn MacKerracher

@Raineh Daze@Psyker Landshark@VitaVitaAR@Krayzikk

Once the plan was settled, Fionn reached down, scooping Tili up off the floor. "She should be fine in time," he assured Elisandre, before Tyaethe led the way to the exit. While teleportation hadn't really been something he was expecting, he still took point like he said he would, sword in one hand and Nem in the other as he led the way back to Candaeln from where they'd ended up. Once back inside the castle, Tili was passed off to other knights better equipped to take care of her, while Tyaethe set about trying to make arrangements for the princesses for the rest of the night.

When Renar caught his eye, he nodded briefly. While he might need a moment to re-arm, Fionn's borrowed gear was barely any different from his actual. It would have to be returned at some point, so there was little reason to strip out of it, change to his own, and then head back in the direction of the castle towards the mausoleum without it. "You coming along, Nico?"
Cadmon Demet

@Psyker Landshark@HereComesTheSnow@Eisenhorn

He'd been in agreement with her, up to the end; they had the same opinion of how likely it was she would get used, and what use they might get out of her skills. At her last words, though, the young noble stiffened perceptibly, his eyes narrowing towards her.

"Sir Shilage keeps his own counsel in such matters. He comes when I send for him, but if not, he's perfectly free to do as he wishes. It is my hope that he meets us at Lady Velvetica's pavilion." As much as some in the camp might wish to levy insults against his own face, Cadmon was just as content to let them come and shrug them off; to speak in such a way about the man who'd become just as close family to him as his own parents had been, however, was something he refused to let pass without some comment or correction.

Neverminding that István likely wouldn't care one bit himself.

"Hopefully between the three of us we can convince her to set you loose. I'm not feeling like a pitched battle today—sick opponents are always easier to subdue, and I'm sure you know all sorts of ways to leave them feeling quite ill." Truth be told, he was surprised how quickly he'd grown accustomed to battle, otherwise the thought of one rapidly approaching might well have left him feeling sick to his stomach, not that he'd ever admitted to it.

Luckily enough, as he picked his path back through to the center of the camp, he quickly caught sight of István a short ways away, alongside one of the mercenaries who'd joined on with the Lions. At least the presence of others should help forestall any actual argument brewing between himself and the assassin at his side. "Well. It appears my man has made a friend. Shilage!"
Cadmon Demet

@Psyker Landshark

The effort needed to resist rolling his eyes was nearly herculean. What was needed to keep his jaw shut for a moment was even greater.

No, no, I just thought I'd take a romantic stroll around the war camp with my favourite assassin.

As much as he wanted to say something sarcastic like that, it would be pointless. Antagonizing her would be no help at all with what they were soon to face; beyond that, he had little doubt of his low likelihood of waking up in the morning if she decided she disliked him enough. Not that she seemed inclined to harm an ally, certainly not in that way, but he only trusted an assassin as far as he could throw them.

Given that Kayliss was a somewhat tall human woman rather than a Nem, that wasn't very far at all.

"With any luck," he said after a moment. No true confirmation for her question, yet, but he was hoping. "Assuming they didn't meet with an unfortunate fate, our scouts are due to make their reports to Lady Velvetica today. If they bring back something useful, I'm hoping that we could make use of your talents."
© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet