Decisions, Decisions with Cherry Jubilee and Olde English Mead
Posted this here by mistake, but eh. It can stay.
Author: Jon
Rating: PG
Challenge: Cherry Jubilee #3 - Quartering Troops
Olde English Mead #9 - Sweets for the Sweet.
Toppings: None
Extras: None
Word Count: 1496
Story: Separate Paths
Notes: The party starts to form. Of course, I'm an ass, so there are a few hidden details, red herrings and other such things thrown in here. Bwahahaa? Plus, only two more to go for Cherry Jubilee. Then I can get two more lists, since apparently it's gone from four to five while I've been lazy.
True to his prediction, the Golem returned fairly shortly, announced by the solid thud of his bound leg as he walked past the tavern window. Emala watched as he entered, shuffling through several pages of parchment and returned to the table. He laid the papers down with a distinct air of satisfaction.
“As I thought,” he said in his mechanical tone of voice, “There are plenty of people whose employer got killed or arrested during the takeover, or don’t wish to serve with the new masters of the town. Or were already here and looking for work anyway, of course. Means we have plenty of choice. I wrote down a few details about each of them for they to review.”
Emala looked up at him. “Me? Why me?”
The Golem shrugged his huge shoulders. “Your mission, for all intents and purposes. I’m closer to an investor and guide than a force leader on this one. Plus you’re military, even if you were and engineer. You must have dealt with mercenary forces before.”
Emala turned a sheet of paper towards herself. “It is certainly true that Terat occasionally hired...specialists outside of the military structure for certain jobs, yes.” The Golem laughed nastily. “Yes, well. Who have you got for me?”
“Oh, quite a few. Decisions, decisions...”
They spent the next several hours, talking about each of the names or groups on the list. Some were discounted quickly when it became obvious they were either not as skilled as other people on the list, too expensive for the Golem’s meagre funds or simply unsuited to the task ahead.
“What about Sskaris?” The Golem tapped his finger on the parchment with the name on it. “Saurians are rare, and summoners rarer still. I quite like the idea of a mage that has enough armour to survive an arrow strike as well, between his scales and wargear. I’ve even met him once or twice before, albeit it briefly. He seemed interesting.”
Emala gave him a look. “From you, interesting is not a good recommendation. But a Summoner could boost our numbers when we need it. We’ll give him an offer. Now, what about the swordsman Conall Magar? From your notes, he’s supposed to be well trained and disciplined.”
“So I’m told,” the Golem nodded, “But he’s someone I’ve heard of only recently. Still, the people who speak his name speak it loudly. He was attached to a couple of mercenary units in good repute, so he’s worth talking to.”
The papers rustled again and the Golem held up another. “Raziela the Mystic. Her Sight could well keep us out of trouble. Of course, she’s reputed to be a touch odd, but oddness makes things more interesting.”
“Please stop saying interesting.” Emala studied the paper. “I don’t think I recognize Mystics. What are they?”
The Golem replied, “Difficult to explain without an in-depth lecture. You won’t have run into them, they didn’t exist in your time. But as I understand it, because we’re outside of Creation the normal rules don’t apply. We have magic because the jump here left a hole through which it leaks. But Fate is different. We’re not governed by it as strongly as the residents of Creation are, and so it is possible to alter things. Mystics, Seers and Oracles can all see the potential futures to a greater or lesser degree, but they have issues. Mystics are odd, but there powers are the least. Seers tend to have trouble focusing on reality. And Oracles are the most powerful, but their mind tends to get destroyed as they exercise there power.”
“So they can see the future?”
The Golem shrugged. “They seem the paths the future can lead to. Say I tossed a coin. They could see it landing with the crown up or the crown down. On the other hand, if you hurled a rock into a crowd they could see the potential victims, what would happen, if they would fall, if they could die...before the stone left your hand. It’s the potential futures they see, which is what makes them go odd. And sometimes they get it horribly wrong.”
Emala remembered the times she had know what the result of an action would be. It had only started happening since she had come here. She’d assumed it was simply her mind’s way of presenting her with potential outcomes, that her own experience was working out the answer and presenting it to her because of the stress she was under, but if she instead had this power then it might be useful. Of course, it could also make her go mad...
It was better not to let the Golem know for now, though. She wanted an extra if they came into conflict, and right now she had no idea if she was right. “Even so, that sounds useful. An early warning would be right. Let’s invite her too.” And maybe Emala could ask her a few questions once they were on the road.
The next name was a small group. “The Kamere Family.” The Golem tilted his head to the side. “They’re a group of four siblings who hire themselves out as a unit. According to those I talked to they’re very effective at what they do, but they’ll stick together regardless. It can make handling them tricky, but apparently they make up for it.”
Emala took a sip of wine and frowned. “What happens when one dies?”
“Apparently it hasn’t come up yet. Lucky for them.”
The Golem paused over the next name. “Pedah Tzur.” For a moment he stared at the name.
Emala watched him. “A problem?”
“Odd, it strikes a memory.” The Golem shrugged. “Such things happen. He’s trained by the Knights Arcana of the Church of Truth, although apparently he was relieved of his position with them soon before the attack. Hence why he’s still here and not dead nor a prisoner. He’s supposed to be a good swordsman but only a mediocre spellcaster. Useful all the same, although my source tells me he’ll be a project.”
“A project?”
The Golem laughed. “Being relieved of his knighthood didn’t sit well with him. He’s apparently not been seen sober since it happened. I think it’ll be worth the effort or drying him out though. Knights Arcana are good at what they do.” The Golem paused for a moment. “Each Church has a millitary arm, supposedly for protection. Some only use them as such. There warriors are all trained in both the sword and magic, although some are better at one than the other. The Knights Arcana are one such, but I’ll admit, one that I respect. Not exactly new, but they’re pretty much exclusively Church warriors in this time.”
Emala shook her head. “Alright, we can try. But if he’s a problem we’re dumping him with enough money and supplies to reach the nearest town, and I expect him to be sober by the time we move.”
The Golem snapped off a salute. “Yes ma’am.”
Ignoring him, she held up another paper. “Now, let’s talk about this mage Ixis...”
All told, the list of names at the end was about two dozen strong. More people than they likely needed but it wasn’t likely they could get all of there choices, and would reject some once they’d actually met.
As the sun rose higher the Golem pointed out that Lethia would be awake soon. They packed up there things and the Golem bought a large apple tart to take to her. But as they stepped outside they had to pause as two men argued, angrily, with a soldier. Emala turned to the Golem, her eyes questioning.
The Golem sighed through his breather. “Not enough room in the barracks. Apparently the new commander of the city wants all his soldiers within the walls, but that means quartering them in people’s homes. Apparently someone isn’t happy about it.”
One man raised a fist, but his friend grabbed him and dragged him away as the soldier’s hand went for the sword at his waist. “This is stupid,” The Golem muttered with irritation in his voice. “Yavellia had no reason to capture this place, and it’s going to end in bloodshed. Someone is playing a silly game and it’s damned stupid.”
Emala couldn’t help but agree with his assessment.
When they returned to the Healer’s shop, Lethia was sitting up in her bed looking vaguely irritated by the Healer’s ministrations. She was somewhat appeased by the Golem presenting the tart with a flourish, saying, “Sweets for the sweet.” A final round of checks allowed Lethia to get dressed and out of bed, walking slowly to the Steam Wagon.
“We’ll rest and recover this eve,” The Golem said as he walked beside Lethia. He hadn’t offered to help her, Emala had noticed, but was close enough to prevent her falling. Especially with his reflexes. “Lethia can take a peek at our choices. Tomorrow, we’ll start assembling the troops.”
Author: Jon
Rating: PG
Challenge: Cherry Jubilee #3 - Quartering Troops
Olde English Mead #9 - Sweets for the Sweet.
Toppings: None
Extras: None
Word Count: 1496
Story: Separate Paths
Notes: The party starts to form. Of course, I'm an ass, so there are a few hidden details, red herrings and other such things thrown in here. Bwahahaa? Plus, only two more to go for Cherry Jubilee. Then I can get two more lists, since apparently it's gone from four to five while I've been lazy.
True to his prediction, the Golem returned fairly shortly, announced by the solid thud of his bound leg as he walked past the tavern window. Emala watched as he entered, shuffling through several pages of parchment and returned to the table. He laid the papers down with a distinct air of satisfaction.
“As I thought,” he said in his mechanical tone of voice, “There are plenty of people whose employer got killed or arrested during the takeover, or don’t wish to serve with the new masters of the town. Or were already here and looking for work anyway, of course. Means we have plenty of choice. I wrote down a few details about each of them for they to review.”
Emala looked up at him. “Me? Why me?”
The Golem shrugged his huge shoulders. “Your mission, for all intents and purposes. I’m closer to an investor and guide than a force leader on this one. Plus you’re military, even if you were and engineer. You must have dealt with mercenary forces before.”
Emala turned a sheet of paper towards herself. “It is certainly true that Terat occasionally hired...specialists outside of the military structure for certain jobs, yes.” The Golem laughed nastily. “Yes, well. Who have you got for me?”
“Oh, quite a few. Decisions, decisions...”
They spent the next several hours, talking about each of the names or groups on the list. Some were discounted quickly when it became obvious they were either not as skilled as other people on the list, too expensive for the Golem’s meagre funds or simply unsuited to the task ahead.
“What about Sskaris?” The Golem tapped his finger on the parchment with the name on it. “Saurians are rare, and summoners rarer still. I quite like the idea of a mage that has enough armour to survive an arrow strike as well, between his scales and wargear. I’ve even met him once or twice before, albeit it briefly. He seemed interesting.”
Emala gave him a look. “From you, interesting is not a good recommendation. But a Summoner could boost our numbers when we need it. We’ll give him an offer. Now, what about the swordsman Conall Magar? From your notes, he’s supposed to be well trained and disciplined.”
“So I’m told,” the Golem nodded, “But he’s someone I’ve heard of only recently. Still, the people who speak his name speak it loudly. He was attached to a couple of mercenary units in good repute, so he’s worth talking to.”
The papers rustled again and the Golem held up another. “Raziela the Mystic. Her Sight could well keep us out of trouble. Of course, she’s reputed to be a touch odd, but oddness makes things more interesting.”
“Please stop saying interesting.” Emala studied the paper. “I don’t think I recognize Mystics. What are they?”
The Golem replied, “Difficult to explain without an in-depth lecture. You won’t have run into them, they didn’t exist in your time. But as I understand it, because we’re outside of Creation the normal rules don’t apply. We have magic because the jump here left a hole through which it leaks. But Fate is different. We’re not governed by it as strongly as the residents of Creation are, and so it is possible to alter things. Mystics, Seers and Oracles can all see the potential futures to a greater or lesser degree, but they have issues. Mystics are odd, but there powers are the least. Seers tend to have trouble focusing on reality. And Oracles are the most powerful, but their mind tends to get destroyed as they exercise there power.”
“So they can see the future?”
The Golem shrugged. “They seem the paths the future can lead to. Say I tossed a coin. They could see it landing with the crown up or the crown down. On the other hand, if you hurled a rock into a crowd they could see the potential victims, what would happen, if they would fall, if they could die...before the stone left your hand. It’s the potential futures they see, which is what makes them go odd. And sometimes they get it horribly wrong.”
Emala remembered the times she had know what the result of an action would be. It had only started happening since she had come here. She’d assumed it was simply her mind’s way of presenting her with potential outcomes, that her own experience was working out the answer and presenting it to her because of the stress she was under, but if she instead had this power then it might be useful. Of course, it could also make her go mad...
It was better not to let the Golem know for now, though. She wanted an extra if they came into conflict, and right now she had no idea if she was right. “Even so, that sounds useful. An early warning would be right. Let’s invite her too.” And maybe Emala could ask her a few questions once they were on the road.
The next name was a small group. “The Kamere Family.” The Golem tilted his head to the side. “They’re a group of four siblings who hire themselves out as a unit. According to those I talked to they’re very effective at what they do, but they’ll stick together regardless. It can make handling them tricky, but apparently they make up for it.”
Emala took a sip of wine and frowned. “What happens when one dies?”
“Apparently it hasn’t come up yet. Lucky for them.”
The Golem paused over the next name. “Pedah Tzur.” For a moment he stared at the name.
Emala watched him. “A problem?”
“Odd, it strikes a memory.” The Golem shrugged. “Such things happen. He’s trained by the Knights Arcana of the Church of Truth, although apparently he was relieved of his position with them soon before the attack. Hence why he’s still here and not dead nor a prisoner. He’s supposed to be a good swordsman but only a mediocre spellcaster. Useful all the same, although my source tells me he’ll be a project.”
“A project?”
The Golem laughed. “Being relieved of his knighthood didn’t sit well with him. He’s apparently not been seen sober since it happened. I think it’ll be worth the effort or drying him out though. Knights Arcana are good at what they do.” The Golem paused for a moment. “Each Church has a millitary arm, supposedly for protection. Some only use them as such. There warriors are all trained in both the sword and magic, although some are better at one than the other. The Knights Arcana are one such, but I’ll admit, one that I respect. Not exactly new, but they’re pretty much exclusively Church warriors in this time.”
Emala shook her head. “Alright, we can try. But if he’s a problem we’re dumping him with enough money and supplies to reach the nearest town, and I expect him to be sober by the time we move.”
The Golem snapped off a salute. “Yes ma’am.”
Ignoring him, she held up another paper. “Now, let’s talk about this mage Ixis...”
All told, the list of names at the end was about two dozen strong. More people than they likely needed but it wasn’t likely they could get all of there choices, and would reject some once they’d actually met.
As the sun rose higher the Golem pointed out that Lethia would be awake soon. They packed up there things and the Golem bought a large apple tart to take to her. But as they stepped outside they had to pause as two men argued, angrily, with a soldier. Emala turned to the Golem, her eyes questioning.
The Golem sighed through his breather. “Not enough room in the barracks. Apparently the new commander of the city wants all his soldiers within the walls, but that means quartering them in people’s homes. Apparently someone isn’t happy about it.”
One man raised a fist, but his friend grabbed him and dragged him away as the soldier’s hand went for the sword at his waist. “This is stupid,” The Golem muttered with irritation in his voice. “Yavellia had no reason to capture this place, and it’s going to end in bloodshed. Someone is playing a silly game and it’s damned stupid.”
Emala couldn’t help but agree with his assessment.
When they returned to the Healer’s shop, Lethia was sitting up in her bed looking vaguely irritated by the Healer’s ministrations. She was somewhat appeased by the Golem presenting the tart with a flourish, saying, “Sweets for the sweet.” A final round of checks allowed Lethia to get dressed and out of bed, walking slowly to the Steam Wagon.
“We’ll rest and recover this eve,” The Golem said as he walked beside Lethia. He hadn’t offered to help her, Emala had noticed, but was close enough to prevent her falling. Especially with his reflexes. “Lethia can take a peek at our choices. Tomorrow, we’ll start assembling the troops.”