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*Midoran Justice*
Posted: 27 Apr 2005 12:04 PM |
Sirac woke with a groan, desperately pulling both pillows over his head in a futile attempt to stop the incessant pounding inside his skull. He had had a hard few days, and had taken great pleasure last night in forgetting all about them by touring his favourite taverns. Finishing his nights revelry by crawling into a spare bed at the fire knives guild house, for even in his inebriated state he knew better than to return to his lodgings and run the risk of bumping into Sol. She never seemed to appreciate his...enjoyment of the various drinking establishments of Vives, and so he decided to do the honorable thing...and spare her the displeasure of finding out what he had been up to.
As he slowly gathered his wits, he realised the pounding noise that he was so desperately trying to placate actually wasnt entirely due to the drinking of the previous night. The ringing of a strident bell was at least partially to blame, incessantly sounding an...alarm. With a sudden jolt, Sirac came fully to, heart pounding. Had the moment they had been expecting for months finally arrived?
In a single movement he was out of the bed and half way across the room...his headache forgotten, or at least put aside to worry about at a later time. In moments he was dressed, the elven mail responding to his every touch and seeming to slide about his form with minimal effort. Indeed, lack of effort had always been something close to his heart, and the armour was the best he had ever found to fulfill that particular need.
Quickly gathering up the rest of his scattered possessions, Sirac made for the door, flinging it open and stepping out into the hall. The by now familiar sensation of a cloak of darkness being drawn about him caused him to slow to a steady walk, so as not to break the protection his father's shade spun for him, and he drew his blades as he moved to the entrance, worried at what was to come. Sirac relaxed slightly when he saw his lord already striding on ahead of him, Tagreth was never a man slow to act if his odd little...family of thieves and the like were threatened.
The sound of his lord's voice raised in anger kept Sirac alert, and he watched discretely from a distance as Tagreth berated a hideously ugly half-orc lass. It seemed that this...creature had been asked to go and do a very simple little mission, and had managed to end up killing a supposed Midoran citizen on the streets of the city, right under the noses of the red cloaked knights. And then had come straight to the guild hall, leaving every door wide open on the way. Just what the guild needed...a stupid ugly orc without the slightest hint of discretion or common sense. Sirac sighed to himself and yet again wished Lord Tagreth would adopt the policy Sirac had so oft suggested to his mentor, that none of orc blood be allowed membership of the knives. Biting back the anger that so oft accompanied thoughts of that foul race, Sirac listened as Lord Tagreth quickly read a scroll rendering the orc invisible.
Sirac smiled to himself as his lord ushered the orc back outside into the inns basement, where the Midoran guards were already gathering. And he chuckled as he heard Tagreth instruct the orc to make sure she was noticed before she completed her escape, leading the Midorans away from the guild. However Sirac's chuckles died, and his smile faded when after the orc had left, his lord followed close behind. dang him and his kind heart, no orc was going to place the leader of the fire knives in such danger.
But as swiftly as Sirac followed, Lord Tagreth was swifter. By the time Sirac had crept past the Midorans milling around the basement, Lord Tagreth had incanted some scrolls filling the basement with magical darkness. And in the ensuing confusion the orc had escaped, with the Midorans in swift pursuit. However one of the so called Righteous Swords remained behind, unaware that two of the leaders of the fire knives waited and watched his every move from the shadows. The knight looked around with obvious interest at the cluttered basement, and as he then slowly followed after his comrades, he looked back and with a chuckle said,
"Don't worry, we will be back soon enough...and next time we will be more thorough. It is about time this stain on the underbelly of the white city be cleansed."
Sirac frowned and with obvious reluctance but equal determination, blades already drawn, stepped in front of the knight...the supernatural cloak his father's shade wove for him causing the knight to glance away and not even notice his death stood before him. But with a single shake of his head Lord Tagreth caused Sirac to step back, sheathing his blades without the hint of a whisper, and allowed the man to leave. Sirac offered his lord a questioning glance, then bowed his head in acknowledgement as Tagreth's fingers smoothly flowed through the intricate gestures of the thieves own cant...
"Not here. Return to the halls."
When both once more stood in Lord Tagreth's office, they exchanged a worried look. Lord Tagreth looked a little older, and his face carried more lines than Sirac had ever before noticed. As he spoke he sank wearily into his favourite chair...
"Sirac, I appreciate the fact you would have shed blood to protect our own. But, like you, I do not take lives easily or for no cause. We have known for a while the Midorans plan to move against us. It is time."
Sirac struggled to find words to refute this statement, but in his heart he knew it to be truth. They might have days, weeks even. But no more than that, and so he bowed his head once in simple acceptance, and turned and left...keeping his eyes averted from the naked pain and anguish on his lords face. He had his duties to carry out, the preparations had long since been made, and now it was time to begin moving those who could be trusted absolutely to a place of safety...
The next few hours passed in a blur, as Sirac ushered various fire knives out of the building, ignoring their questions, demanding only that they do as they were asked. A demand not made too often of the free-spirited knives, but when necessary all knew to obey without question. And so they followed...and disappeared from sight into the new lair the knives would call home. Sirac returned from the third such trip across the streets of the city, and began to gather some more trusted people for the last trip of that day. Concentrating solely on the task allocated to him, he started in shock when the guild alarm once more began to sound. Surely that stupid orc could not have brought more trouble down upon their heads.
Sirac ran towards the entrance, determined Tagreth would not have to be disturbed this time, when the doorway exploded in huge jagged splinters, flying towards him in a storm of debris swiftly followed by a concussive blast of pure magical energy. Instinct took over, and saved his life as so oft had been the case in his...career. He flung himself aside from the explosion, narrowly avoiding being impaled by the volley of arrows that swiftly followed. He rolled, and by the time he came to his feet, a cloak of shadows once more hid him from his foes. He surveyed the wreckage as he pulled his hood over his face, hoping against hope that those few fire knives that still remained in the halls would have the chance to flee before the onslaught. Jeremiah, a talented cutpurse who had never raised his voice, let alone his fists, in anger to anyone lay face down upon the floor of the entry corridor, his body riddled with arrows. Sirac stalked towards the entry doorway, his face turning several shades paler as he saw numerous red cloaked figures charging into the guild hall. None of the knights saw him, despite their scanning every possible hiding place. But a mage behind stared right at Sirac, and with a muttered incantation a tremendous volley of magical missiles pummeled him backwards.
With a curse Sirac reached at haste for a scroll, and read the incantation with practised fluency most mages would be proud of, finishing before more magical attacks could seek him out. A rare scroll, written for him by Solitaire, and he knew beyond a doubt he once more owed her his life, as his form became ethereal and he ghosted through the massing ranks of the Midoran knights. Vella, the guild merchant, was pleading for mercy from the hard faced knight that had entered her storeroom, and the resignation in her eyes spoke volumes for her lack of success. Acting without thought, on instinct, as was so oft his way, Sirac broke the safety of his enchantment, and stepped free from the shadows that hid him as his blades went into a dancing, spinning flurry of attacks. The knight that threatened the unarmed merchant fell before the onslaught, pierced through lung and heart before he had even begun to react. But the sound of the armoured figure clattering to the ground swiftly drew attention, and Sirac whirled to face many more adversaries. The look of resignation upon Vella's face was matched by that on Sirac's, when suddenly utter darkness descended upon the entrance to the storeroom. A hand grabbed Sirac and pulled him backwards, and he saw Vella similarly being drawn along. The solid wall at the back of the store seemed to fade out of existence before them, and then into solidity behind.
They found themselves in an earth hewn corridor, confronted by the whimsical grin and beautiful features of Xandra, night mistress of the fire knives. In a hushed voice she whispered...
"Looked like you were in trouble there. Come on, Lord Tagreth is waiting for you both..."
And so an era came to an end, and a new one began for the fire knives of Midor... |
'The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.' - Richard Bach, Illusions. |
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Re: *Midoran Justice*
Posted: 27 Apr 2005 12:07 PM |
((For those that dont want to wade through the verbage, the salient points are:
The fire knives were crushed with total, ruthless efficiency by Midoran forces.
There were, perhaps surprisingly, few casualties on either side.
No one IG seems to know what has happened to any of the leaders of the fire knives. For those that know Sirac is one of those leaders, his fate remains unknown for now also.
Any other info is, to coin a phrase, FOIG)) |
'The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.' - Richard Bach, Illusions. |
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Re: *Midoran Justice*
Posted: 27 Apr 2005 03:25 PM |
Mister Jessup could do little to hide his grin...it was as if it were chiseled on his face. Gregor recanted the story as best as he could. It was the third time. Each time the grin on Jessup's face had grown bigger. Vic stood in the back with a look of interest. When Gregor finished the tale for the third time the room fell silent. The two stood staring at the leader of the Black Hand. Nothing but silence. Then it was broken..by two words that no one thought would ever come out of Mister Jessup's mouth........"Praise Midor!!"
With that the room was filled with laughter. Tonight there would be great merriment. Tomorrow would be a day of planning. |
ONWARD AND UPWARD! |
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Re: *Midoran Justice*
Posted: 27 Apr 2005 04:37 PM |
Johe slowly took off his "Flowbee Codswollop" disguise and looked around the darkness of the sewer as he put on his sneak gear. He had heard the whispers of the relocation from mister Tagreth, but was a bit annoyed that the leadership still didn't trust him enough to tell him where they were going. He grimaced as he remembered himself skipping around the corner hopping over a trap he knew was there and running headlong into the red armored guard. Quick thinking had gained him a minor kick in the rear instead of a major beating. He could tell from the guards angry demeanor that Midor had not caught the knives...but, where were they?
He frowned again and muttered," I told ya we had ta pick a side an' fite"
Pulling on his gloves he slunk into the shadows and resumed his search. |
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Re: *Midoran Justice*
Posted: 03 May 2005 08:52 PM |
| Romulus noticed the vigilant guard of Midoran had been patrolling and even more onlooking than before. Whatever it was, Romulus was sure....one less Burden must of been on Midor for they seemed all the more plentiful with men, and all the more eyes on the precious Gorlath Keep. |
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Re: *Midoran Justice*
Posted: 13 May 2005 06:44 AM |
*Whispers amongst the populace today speaks of a warrior in golden armour who ran through the streets of Midor accompanied by demons slaughtering women and children before finally sucumbing to the might of the Righteous Swords*
*The priests in their sermons spoke of great evil that threatens the walls of the city, from the rebel knights that refused to accept the lawful authority of the white bishop to the ones who in their jealously and inbridled rage, sought to tear down what the great people of Midoran have built.*
*Midoran Justice is as swift as always, and lawbreakers are brought to heel.*
Midor, as always, remains safe for the faithful.
Midoran's will be done. |
Purpose in life: finding better ways of allowing players to kill themselves. Repeatedly.
--
"...Cause he mixes it with love
And makes the world taste good."
--
<@James42> Lawful good isn't in your vocabulary, it's on your menu.
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