Difference between revisions of "DKMortals/SessionFifty"

From Exalted - Unofficial Wiki
Jump to: navigation, search
m
 
m (Replaced content with 'Delete.')
 
Line 1: Line 1:
 
+
Delete.
 
 
[ST] "...have a seat," Soldas says, gesturing to a set of chairs in front of his desk. A few more than usual have been put in. If the murmurings going around the barracks are to be believed, something dramatic is going on. Lots of troops are moving.
 
 
 
[ST] Soldas looks worse than ever, although his hands don't seem to be shaking as much. His voice seems slightly thick, fuzzy, and his eyes aren't properly focusing as he has a seat behind his desk.
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter's eyes are widen with excitement. She sits on her the edge of her chair. "Are we finally going to see some action?" she blurts out.
 
 
 
[Miruna] Miruna knows all too well.  It had taken too long for things to get moving as it was.  He shakes his head at the offer and stays standing.  He'd been feeling slightly weak ever since the hard march back to Icehome, and he refused to allow himself to show it.
 
 
 
[ST] Soldas looks at Otter for a moment, blinking, then nods. "Action. Yes. Although I would have thought you had had enough in your last Raven Hunt..."
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter looks slightly discomfited. "That was different...that was- mere policework. This is war!  Where heroes are made and legends are forged!"
 
 
 
[ST] "You have seen a different side of war than I," a voice says from behind Otter, stony. The one they call Selza. A new recruit, though not accepted into the Once Dead so quickly as Otter. She is said to be an Emerald-dweller.
 
 
 
[ST] "It does produce a large amount of corpses," Morta adds laconically.
 
 
 
[ST] The other woman, the one they call Savage Bear-Daughter, says nothing at all, but Otter can feel her eyes burrowing into her back.
 
 
 
[Otter] "Well, it's different for-" She hesitates. Ordinary people sounded dismissive. So did "commoners". "...For old people." She smiles cheerfully at Selza.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "That they do."  Not that he'd ever seen an actual war.  But he remembered the host that they would be facing.  This one certainly would.  The trick would be to make sure enough were the enemies.  He had to stop himself from pacing.  They were wasting time.
 
 
 
[ST] "Well, ah, be that as it may," Soldas says, stumbling over the words. "The Oligarchs have determined that the Once Dead are to take part in a new war strategy." He folds his fingers before him. Selza returns a flat glare to match the Bear-Daughters's.
 
 
 
[ST] "As you well know," Soldas says, in a tone that suggests he's not at all sure they know this, "The League is a fellowship of city-states and many tribes, each with its own military. We are thus... ah... imperfectly organized."
 
 
 
[ST] "At this early stage in the conflict, we are still struggling to muster and integrate our forces. In many cases we have only a few units of our militia available to defend a very long border."
 
 
 
[ST] "Command has suggested that the Once Dead be committed to this struggle, as liasons and military advisors to various... ah... green forces." He scrubs at his eyes and nods, mostly at Miruna. "You get my meaning?"
 
 
 
[Otter] None of this was new to Otter. The Fox-and-Bear, barely affiliated with the Haslanti at all, chortled over it when they talked over  the weakness of their neighbors. Liason didn't sound promising. Neither did green forces. "But we'll be positioned where we're sure to see battle, right?"
 
 
 
[ST] "Yes." Soldas says dryly, pushing a sheet of paper across the desk where those closest can see. "You will."
 
 
 
[Miruna] He spits at the floor.  On one of the expensive rugs there, unfortunately.  Still, that was his meaning.
 
 
 
[ST] "As you know, the Outwall is only sparsely strewn with Emeralds. They provide logistic value for our nation, but in the short term losing them costs us little. They are but isolated islands, many hundreds of miles apart. The Chain, unfortunately, is an exception."
 
 
 
[ST] "Sixty miles south of Icehome, five Emeralds cluster together. Magdala's forces are moving to try to capture them. If she is successful, she will have captured a staging point within striking range of our capital."
 
 
 
[ST] "I need not tell you this would be unfortunate, I hope."
 
 
 
[ST] He takes a deep breath, nodding again.
 
 
 
[ST] "You will be assigned to a number of militia units at Siahan Emerald. Your goal will be to prevent the Winter Wolf from seizing the Emerald. She will, we believe, try to capture it intact. She wants it as a refuge, not a burning ruin."
 
 
 
[ST] "Any questions?"
 
 
 
[Miruna] "What if we can't.  Do we hand her a burning ruin?"  He asks the question with a rusty voice, but no more manifest emotion than that.
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter glances at him. The same question had occurred to her, but she hadn't voiced it. She had decided they would not fail.
 
 
 
[ST] Soldas' shoulders sag as he gives a heavy sigh. "Yes. But it is to be the option of utterly last resort. These are some of the richest Emeralds in the Outwall. If you destroy them, we won't see them live again in our lifetimes."
 
 
 
[ST] "The Oligarchs are confident we can withstand this assault. The heaviest blow is unlikely to fall upon you. We believe Magdala is leading the fiercest thrust directly through the middle of the Chain. The Treasured Jewel Emerald is by far the largest, and her main objective."
 
 
 
[Otter] "Do they have a contingency if they're wrong? What kind of forces are we likely to face from her? Any air support?"
 
 
 
[Miruna] "We are assigned only to protect one of the Emeralds?  Are we going to be mounting five different defenses accross the Chain?"  He asks, slightly incredulous.
 
 
 
[Otter] Her own tribe made occasional use of javelins and rocks launched from air balloons, but she was excited to see the real thing- burning pitch and great ships that salied over the ground. It would be beyond anything.
 
 
 
[Miruna] All the She-Bitch would ahve to do would be to pin down each defensive force with a small force of hers and overwhelm each separately.  Unless the central force was far stronger than what had been described for theirs.
 
 
 
[ST] Soldas addresses Miruna first. "The Emeralds are to be the anchors of our defense. We simply don't have enough troops to deploy across the countryside. We will meet her with our strongest group at the center, crush her, then advance from the other Emeralds into her flanks, if all goes well. If she goes for one of the other Emeralds, well, she'll be turning her flank for us."
 
 
 
[Miruna] "So we hold and wait for relief from the main force?"
 
 
 
[Miruna] "If all goes to plan."  He added, doubtfully.
 
 
 
[ST] "Yes. You should be in frequent contact with them. Ten airboats have been assigned to this operation. One, the Glorious Wind, will be in your operational area."
 
 
 
[ST] He doesn't comment further on Otter's questions.
 
 
 
[Otter] "Beastmen? Icewalkers? Ravening wyld creatures?" she pursues. She's doesn't tolerate being ignored.
 
 
 
[ST] "There are Beastmen. Rumors of flying creatures. Nothing our airboats can't handle."
 
 
 
[ST] He waves a hand dismissively, entirely too sure of himself.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "Anyone seen more of the things that took down our airship?"  He couldn't believe the rumors he'd heard that they were out of the war now.
 
 
 
[ST] "They don't tell me, Miruna." Soldas shakes his head in a moment of real candor. "They've assigned twice as many airboats as they might otherwise, if that tells you anything."
 
 
 
[Otter] "It tells me the Ears have no fricking idea," Otter smirks.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "But onyl one assigned to our area - are they planning to keep them in twos, or just hope that enough are near if one is attacked by them?"
 
 
 
[Miruna] "Not something to smile about, this time."  He looks as grim as he had ever since he'd come back from the mountains.
 
 
 
[ST] "Fewer have been assigned to the flanks. Once again, it's believed that the center will be seeing the most action. If there are any reports, the airboats should be able to respond quickly."
 
 
 
[ST] "Our forces have already assembled in the area. They await only the Glorious Wind and your arrival," Soldas suddenly figets, tapping at one of the drawers on his desk as a troubled expression crosses his face.
 
 
 
[Otter] "Something else?" Otter asks, watching his face.
 
 
 
[ST] "Nothing." Soldas coughs. "Nothing that should concern you."
 
 
 
[Miruna] "It shouldn't, but it might, yes?"  He leans in a bit.
 
 
 
[ST] Soldas grunts in exasperation. "The Fellai are said to be moving towards Sunset Greenfield. It is my home. I suppose it concerns you as much as it does any other Haslanti."
 
 
 
[Miruna] He grunts.  "My condolences.  How many of us are you sending to Siahan?"
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter's not Haslanti, so she nods symathetically for form's sake. Her mind spins with heady visions of heroism. Killing Magdala was too much to hope for- that was obvious. But perhaps one of the she-pups...?
 
 
 
[ST] "The five of you, and Startled Rabbit. She was sent ahead to make preparations at the ship."
 
 
 
[Otter] Just as well he was not sending Elk, then. All the better in fact: he would hear of her deeds in battle, and be all the more impressed.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He doesn't say anything to this.  There wasn't much to say.  It wasn't enough to leaven even a green scale with veteran troops, so the best they could do would be in command, or what training they would have time for.
 
 
 
[Otter] "That all?" Otter fairly hums with energy. This is what she had joined the Once Dead for- after entrancing Elk and showing how wrong he was to reject her, of course.
 
 
 
[ST] "Dismissed."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
[ST] On the airfield outside Icehome, the Glorious Wind is preparing to cast off. Other airboats scud overhead, dark against a cloudy afternoon sky. As the Once Dead draw near, a pair of reindeer stagger by, pulling a wagon of firepots. The bustle of war is everywhere.
 
 
 
[Otter] "I'll bring you back a necklace made from wolfmen teeth," Otter promises the boy faithfully. She stood tall in richly embroidered armor decorated with prancing bears and foxes, and over it a cloak of spotted leopard's fur. A quiver of javelins is at her hip, and the spear lies against her back.  Her nose is red from the cold, and her eyes are bright with suppressed excitement.
 
 
 
[Otter] The squirrel on her shoulder chatters.
 
 
 
[ST] The Glorious Wind strains at its tethers, the boarding ramp occasionally shifting as an errant gust strikes the ship. The ship looks a little older than the last one Otter was on, with obvious signs of patching. The galloping horse that forms its prow is scarred and chipped.
 
 
 
[Otter] She had already exchanged an awkward formal kiss on both cheeks with Thoughtful Deer. The traditional farewell, and ill luck to ignore it, but Otter's cheeks burn a dull red nevertheless. She turns to Elk last of all; she was sure he had laughed at her.
 
 
 
[Otter] "This is it!" The girl says, flush lingering in her cheeks. "I'm off to war!"
 
 
 
[Miruna] Miruna sits on deck against a barrel of sand for fires.  He checks his armor, piece by piece, making sure the buckles weren't warped, that everything was right with it, and then painstakingly scrapes it clean, taking off the scuffed last layer of paint.  He hadn't decided yet what to replace it with, but it would be too late to take the time soon.
 
 
 
[Miruna] Besides, seeing him painting his armor up might give heart to the airship crew.  He suspected they would be more involved in the battle than they or Command would wish, and it'd help them to see they'd be lead by the best.
 
 
 
[ST] Elk scrubs his face against the cold, giving Otter a brief nod. "Take care." He casts a shrouded glance at the deck of the airboat. "Give Rabbit my regards, too."
 
 
 
[ST] Idiot, he thinks. You are an idiot.
 
 
 
[ST] Selza and Savage Bear Daughter walk past Otter's group, casting a glance their way. Selza is talking quietly. The other woman nods occasionally and sparingly. Otter sees her fingers flicker, forming symbols she recognizes as Frost Bear and a very derogatory slang for the Fox-and-Bear tribe.
 
 
 
[Otter] "Of course!" Otter says, still cheerful, for pride's sake. "Jealous?" she teases, milking the moment for all it's worth.
 
 
 
[Otter] Hre eyes catch the gesture, and her nostrils flare. It doesn't hurt her mood, but some part of Otter thinks: later. I'll her later.
 
 
 
[ST] "No," Elk says quietly. "I hope you don't find anything in this Emerald like I did in the one I visited. Just watch yourself."
 
 
 
[ST] Thoughtful Deer nods, reaching forward to adjust one of the tufts of leopard fur. "Indeed. Do not be reckless, war-wife. Jackal is just getting used to you." Her smile is slight, but real.
 
 
 
[ST] On deck, Miruna finds him the target of observation he was not seeking. Morta dangles backwards from a stack of crates like a bat, her brittle hair hanging alarmingly towards the deck like the bristles of a broom. "Why rub off the paint?"
 
 
 
[Otter] "Not only willl I do that, I'll kill a wolfmen for you too," she promises. Easy enough to ignore his lack of enthusiasm: he had never  joined her jumping over the waterfalls, either. "For each of you." She beams at Little Jackal.
 
 
 
[Otter] She was very well-pleased with him. He'd bested his first Frost Bear in a children's fight just the other week.
 
 
 
[ST] Jackal gives a nod. "Bring your trophies so that we may see them, war-mother."
 
 
 
[Miruna] He carefully applies an even layer of primer to the bare metal plates, a mute milky white so that the other pigments he added over it would hold and be as bright or dark as he wanted them.  He took his time, adjusting for the shifting of the airship.  If this wasn't done right nothing he could paint over it would have the right lines, or show an even color.
 
 
 
[Otter] Before she can lose her nerve, Otter suddenly leans forward and kisses Elk on the lips. She draws back before he can, laughs giddily, and runs for the ship. She stops to wave one last time as she boards. "I'll bring back glory. Just see if I don't!" she calls, before the sailors hustle her impatiently aboard.
 
 
 
[ST] "She thinks of you often," Thoughtful Deer supplies to the stunned Elk, as he raises a hand in a hesitant wave.
 
 
 
[ST] "Don't I know it."
 
 
 
[ST] As Otter arrives on the deck, the sailors pull up the gangplank, grumbling. Tether lines are hurriedly released.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He glances up at her as she asks, not stopping his hands.  "If I painted new over old, I'd need to paint thicker or the old would show through.  And the paint wouldn't hold as well if it weren't directly over primer.  Besides, I don't want to carry old battles with me to the next."
 
 
 
[ST] "Much longer, and you could have said farewell to the Winter Wolf herself," Rabbit says acidly. She sits on deck nearby, lounging back against a rack of barrels. The cold doesn't seem to bother her at all - her thin scarf blows in the wind.
 
 
 
[ST] "But we all carry them with us. My grandmother said there are things in life that you pick up and never put down. They just pile on." Morta gives a low whistle as the ship jostles and starts to rise. "Of course, she was dead at the time."
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter joins the others, plopping down next to Miruna on the deck. "This will be a grand adventure," she confides, curling her arms around her knees. She watches him paint as they rise, then glances at Rabbit. "Elk  said to give you his regards," she says very properly. There. Obligation fulfilled: she could ignore the poor creature henceforth.
 
 
 
[Miruna] She was making him feel a bit morbid, but he didn't paint the scene he was tempted to, crows feasting on a battlefield.  Not good for morale, honesty.  Well, not now.
 
 
 
[ST] Something strange passes over Rabbit's face. "Of course he did. Polite to a fault, that one. Proper." She stands. "I'm going to check the equipment."
 
 
 
[Miruna] He grunts.  "If its boring, it means we've held.  If its exciting, well, we'll kill our share."
 
 
 
[ST] Sailors race by, staggering in their heavy furs, calling out sharply as the airboat rises, swaying slightly in the wind. Below, Icehome shrinks; Otter can just see the small dots that mark Elk, Deer, and Jackal. Morta moves over the the edge, spitting experimentally off the side.
 
 
 
[ST] "How often do you think these crash?"
 
 
 
[Otter] Hah. Driven off. Otter is unashamed to feel a faint glow of triumph. She moves to the railing. "I've only heard of two crashing in the past couple months," she says, waving vigorously down at them.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He starts with the obvious, holding his helmet on his knees before him, painting the cheeks and brow with the Haslanti's three gods, saving the brow for Father Winter.  "Lightning won't strike the same man twice, eh?"  A few of them had been over the side a bit too recently.
 
 
 
[ST] Selza and Bear Daughter make their way over to the group, both of them staying well away from the edge. Selza touches the stub of her ear, as if remembering.
 
 
 
[Otter] "Of course, both had Once Dead on them," she adds thoughtfully. She glances speculatively at the sails: normally, she would call it an adventure, but it would be too bad to crash now and then miss the battle.
 
 
 
[Otter] "So you might say it already has." She ignores the little ice cubling, but smiles at Selza.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He shrugs.  "I just wasn't on both of them, all I'm saying."
 
 
 
[ST] "Hopefully it will not." Selza echoes Miruna, once again giving Otter a pointed look. She seems less than amused.  Morta, missing the entire exchange, spits again, and again.
 
 
 
[ST] "By the time it hits the ground, it will be nothing but snow. And no one will know the difference between my spit and Father Winter's."
 
 
 
[ST] "Soldas is a fool if he doesn't think we'll see those flying creatures again," Selza remarks, eyes on the sky as if the creatures would dare come this close to Icehome. "And I don't think they much care about spit."
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter's brow crinkles at Selza's coolness. What has she said? Her gaze passes to the Frost Bear, then over. It would be the quiet little barbarian. Well, she would show them both, see if she didn't.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He pats the crossbow tied to his pack. 
 
 
 
[Miruna] "I have an arrow for them if they do."
 
 
 
[Otter] She smiles. "Then I doubt they'll dare come in range." A litlte flattery went a long way in soothing old men, she'd found.
 
 
 
[ST] Below, the landscape passes slowly, and the wind picks up, biting into faces and hands. Most bundle up or head below, though a few passengers choose to remain on deck. Morta seems not to notice the cold, watching the roads that wind through the rolling hills below. The roads are alive with streams of refugees heading for Icehome. Occasionally, a wedge of Elk Riders rides by on patrol, hooting up at the airboat loudly enough that they can be heard on deck.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He thinks about the rest as he finishes up his helmet.  No time to be morbid, or clever.  He didn't want to paint Magdala.  She was too powerful to be made a figure of ridicule, certainly as he remembered her.  He settled on scenes of wolves dying - being hunted down for food by Elk mounted tribesmen, dying under a blanket of arrows as men defended a flock of sheep, whatever he could think of to show good Haslanti fending
 
 
 
[Miruna] He settled on scenes of wolves dying - being hunted down for food by Elk mounted tribesmen, dying under a blanket of arrows as men defended a flock of sheep, whatever he could think of to show good Haslanti fending off wolves and the land from destroying what they had.
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter returns these gestures to the Elk Riders and wiles the time away in simple spear drills and becoming immensely popular with the sailors. Elk wouldn't mind if she flirted, Otter thinks, with some regret.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He spoends the first few hours of the flight painting, ignoring the cold as he loses himself in the intricate artwork.  It often helped clear his mind, a good part of why he continued with the tradition now.
 
 
 
[ST] The sailors cry off the exercise after a while, citing pulled muscles and strained backs. They might be shamming for Otter's sympathy, but then they might not be - the Once Dead were stronger than most. As Otter fells the last, and he throws up a pair of hands, laughing and gasping for mercy, a hand falls on her shoulder, tightening a bit too much on her leopard fur.
 
 
 
[ST] Selza stands there, alone, an eyebrow raised. "Otter. Let's talk."
 
 
 
[ST] Morta retains an interest in Miruna's work long after others have lost it. Wrapping a rope around her ankle to anchor herself, she lies on her belly, staring with great interest at the scenes of slaughter.
 
 
 
[ST] "Why are you doing this?" She asks, after more than an hour has passed.
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter laughs with the salior, then turns in surprise, her eyebrows shooting. "Oh- of course." Selza had not sought her about before. She bids farewell to the sailors with a cheerful flourish and follows Selza away from the others.  She stares mediatively at Selza's back as she leads the way. She is more than a little suspicious that the woman intended to give her a bear-jawing, the dismal sort her aunt used to
 
 
 
[Otter] assail her with. Selza had the look of an aunt.
 
 
 
[Otter] Well, she had never listened to lectures from her aunt. Selza could stuff it if she started in.
 
 
 
[Otter] "What's up?" she asks brightly when Selza stops.
 
 
 
[ST] Selza doesn't disappoint. She leans against the railing, not bothering to look back and see if the other woman is behind her. The wind blows errant strands of blond hair from under her hood. Otter's tone freezes her shoulders in a stiff position.
 
 
 
[ST] "You probably think I'm being rather cold to you, don't you?"
 
 
 
[Otter] "Well, you are, of course," Otter says, in a cheerful tone that indicates that it doesn't matter to HER. "But it's no time to be rubbing up against each other, yes?"
 
 
 
[Miruna] He pulls back from his work to answer, not wanting to spoil the detail-work on a wolf being eviscerated by a boar spear while he though about something else.  "Why I'm painting out here?  It'll give the crew some heart."
 
 
 
[ST] "I'm trying to warn you." Selza gives a pained sigh, as if dreading the coming exchange. "That's all."
 
 
 
[ST] Sailors do stop from time to time, carefully clapping Miruna on the back, making low, appreciative comments about the work. "Best painting I ever seen done," one remarks over Miruna's shoulder, even as Morta nods at his response.
 
 
 
[ST] "I didn't mean that," she says. "I mean all this." She rolls her neck around on her shoulders. "The corpse thing. Most of these people did it because they need something. You could have been something else. Why choose to die?"
 
 
 
[Otter] "I can guess," Otter says cooly. "Battle isn't fun. It's not about honor and glory. It's scary, it's tiring, it's a nightmare of death and pain. Blah blah.  Am I right?"
 
 
 
[Miruna] He tries not to wince.  Most of the Once Dead had developed some tact on the subject, given that most of them reacted badly to questions like that.  "I was dead enough anyway, when my tribe left me in Icehome."  They had said he couldn't live their life out int he cold.  They'd been right, of course.  He could feel the scar tightening even after an hour in the open air when it wasn't even winter.
 
 
 
[ST] Selza shakes her head. "You remind me of myself. There was a time I wasn't afraid of anything, even though I knew I should be. I went into battle with the Once Dead with nothing but a sharpened stick. And then I opened my eyes. And saw. And it almost killed me." Her voice sharpens; her gloved hands tighten on the airship railing. "A nightmare of death and pain. You stupid, smug little bitch. You don't even know. You don't even <b>know.</b>"
 
 
 
[ST] She walks away without looking back. Across the deck, Morta nods briefly.
 
 
 
[ST] "In the Shadowlands, life is viewed as a brief condition. And a wasteful one. Maybe you are getting the most out of yours while it lasts. I am." She stands and gives him a strange wave of farewell.
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter stares at her back. She snorts, anger vibrating up her chest . She remembers the creature that ate her mother, lowering its muzzle to her stomach. "Bitch," she echoes, as her flying squirrel curls up comfortably in her hood.
 
 
 
[Otter] She would show them all.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "You spend your first life around one?" he asks surprised.  He'd thought that they were avoided by all.
 
 
 
[ST] "Born in one. You lot think this is cold?" She raises her hands, waving them through the chill air. "It's not cold at all." She whistles softly, vanishing belowdecks.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
[ST] The mess belowdecks rings with shouts and laughter and revelry. Some military minds would advise soldiers not to drink the night before a battle. Such minds have never contended with a sober Haslanti. Tobacco smoke hangs thick throughout the hold, and a cask of good rum has been opened. No sense letting it go to waste.
 
 
 
[ST] "Now," the first mate says, gesturing broadly with a tankard. "The Captain refused to come down here, because she says she has to remain on deck and on guard, but I know she'll agree with me in offering this honor to our guests! The Once Dead!" He raises the tankard higher.
 
 
 
[ST] "For 'tis far better to carry Corpses into battle than out of it, yes?"
 
 
 
[ST] A dull roar rings throughout the hold.
 
 
 
[ST] "Where's the Painted Knight! Show us the paintings!"
 
 
 
[ST] "Let's see 'em!"
 
 
 
[ST] "Where's the pretty one?"
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter laughs and returns the salute with her own full tankard. "Oh, honored by the mention!" she says teasingly.
 
 
 
[Miruna] Miruna adds his own bass roar to the tumult.  He's careful with his mug, though, unlike some near him.  There was about half as much ale and grog on the deck now as in mugs.
 
 
 
[ST] The sailors begin to stomp and cheer, working themselves up. "Speech!" someone cries. And then someone else, and another, and another. "Speech! Speech!"
 
 
 
[Miruna] "Here's the pretty one!" He yells, half intelligibly, standing up helmetless.  He climbs on the table to wave at the crowds around him, in his armor in anticipation of the rally.
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter cheers him with the rest, glancing briefly at the other Once Dead to see how they react to the merriment.
 
 
 
[ST] Whistles echo throughout the hold, and even Selza blushes and smiles a little. A drunken man wearing the blue leathern cord around his wrist that markes him as a hang glider commando reaches out impetuously and pulls Morta into his lap, kissing a pale cheek. She blinks, startled.
 
 
 
[ST] Savage Bear-Daughter slams a sailor's arm down on the table to a raucous howl of applause, using his distraction at Miruna to finish the deal. Only Rabbit refrains from the revelry, sitting in a shadowed corner by herself, eye boring a hole in the surface of the table there.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He grins, and pulls at his ale, waiting for them to quiet a bit.  His voice'd cut through the clamor, it'd need to when it came to the fighting, but he wanted to let them cheer themselves out a bit.
 
 
 
[ST] Eventually, the voices die down slightly, as if in anticipation.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "Now, I've fought these bastards." He starts, when the cheers have died down a bit.  "And I'm going back in for more.  'S a pity I didn't finish the job last time, but there was only seven of us, and I thought I'd bring a few more with me this time."  He waves his mug at the crowd, tactically emptied already so he didn't spill some like a drunken sot.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "I think a few hundred of you, and a fine ship like this," he slaps the decking close above his head, "might do a bit more to bight that bitch than I could."
 
 
 
[ST] The sailors roar in anticipation of triumph. Otter feels stubble press into her neck as someone kisses her cheek.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "Not to say that she got out the last time without knowing who she'd met."  He plays to the crowd, drawing out the telling of their last meeting a bit, msot of it wholesale invention.  None of them would ahve heard more than the barest rumors of the Once Dead whop'd come out of the mountains, and it wouldn't do to reveal that all of them had been destroyed by Magdala by herself.  His version kept that one solid blow he'd
 
 
 
[Miruna] it wouldn't do to reveal that all of them had been destroyed by Magdala by herself.  His version kept that one solid blow he'd dealt her, and added quite a few more, with some slapstick incompetence from her subordinates thrown in, and a cowardly retreat.
 
 
 
[ST] Miruna's performance draws more rounds of laughter, and cheers. If there is doubt in the minds of some of the sailors, all of them desperately want to believe the story. Only a few, the hard eyed, the old and scarred, hold themselves back slightly, and even they recognize Miruna's goal in telling the tale.
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter shoves the kisser back wth an elbow, in a friendly way. She leaps from table behind Miruna onto  his back, and gives him a slap on the shoulder. "And you haven't heard the best bit." she calls out. "I had it from a man at the battle. The last time this son of a bitch met Magdala, she came whimpering for him like a bitch in heat, and he spurned her like the dog she is."
 
 
 
[Otter] She waits for the approving shouts and yells to die a bit. "We're smarter than them, faster than them, and fiercer than them." She grins. "And for damn sure, are we  better looking than them!"
 
 
 
[Otter] "Let the wolf-bitch fear! Because sure as shit and lice, are we going to stuff their courage down their throats and make them regret ever thinking they could put one foot on Haslanti soil!"
 
 
 
[Otter] Whoops and cheers. Otter gives Miruna an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek, for effect, than hops down.
 
 
 
[ST] Otter finds herself borne aloft again by a sea of arms as the cheers rise higher. Several burly sailors hoise Miruna as well. Somewhere, a fiddle starts up, and the hold rings with the stamp of dancing feet. Morta gives a squawk of surprise as she is pulled up and pulled through the clumsy, agonized steps of a dance.
 
 
 
[ST] After a moment, Selza joins her, taking her hands, working her through the steps known to every Haslanti since birth. Cheers echo and rebound. Rabbit looks away, grunting, full of bile and rage. "Kill that bitch," she whispers. "Fucking kill that bitch."
 
 
 
[ST] The celebration continues around her without notice.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He laughs loudly "Looks like I have better luck than she ever will, eh?  Now, let me tell you, Otter's right.  Magdala, she's an ugly one.  Muscles sure, but she has eight teats, like the bitch she is.  And her tongue lolls out, like a dog that panting after a long run.  Not much chance I'd have taken her up even if she hadn't been my sworn enemy!"
 
 
 
[ST] "I hear she's got six tits!" A woman hoots.
 
 
 
[ST] "No, eight!"
 
 
 
[Otter] The night dances away, and Otter is drunk on ale and bravada and the green eyes of a handsome glider who (but for Elk) would have tempted her very much indeed. She laughs until her sides ache and dances until her feet ache.
 
 
 
[ST] Revelry reigns in the hold of the Glorious Wind, and for a few hours a desperate war for survival is already won, a victory consigned to the annals of history.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He drinks and dances with the crew, making sure to save energy for the more serious dancing he'd be doing soon enough.  He couldn't recover as fast as he would have as a young man.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
[ST] The sun peeks over the horizon, casting long, golden rays across the decks of the airboat as it continues to move south. Onboard, the crew wakes and moves, groggily and painfully, to their posts. The bitterly cold air at least helps many to sober up. Below, the rolling hills of the Outwall stretch out to the horizon.
 
 
 
[ST] Plumes of woodsmoke rise from the Emeralds located on the edge of vision. Away port and aft, one can spot Green Elk Emerald, and beyond that, the edge of Treasured Jewel. Other airboats move across the sky, crewmembers on their deck hefting reflectors on poles to hail the Glorious Wind.
 
 
 
[ST] Mischevious air elementals dart through the sky, their giggles occasionally audible as the Once Dead assemble on deck.
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter leans out over the railing, trying to get a read on the terrain. At least, that's what she says to the young sailor who asks, to cover her gawking.
 
 
 
[ST] They hear Saihan Emerald before they see it; or rather, they hear the piping of the Glass Forest outside it, a modulating, haunting music borne across the miles by the wind. A few moments later, the Emerald itself appears forward - a green and brown bowl set in the Siahan Plateau, with smoke rising from a collection of thatched houses. Siahan is home to over a thousand souls, and all of
 
 
 
[ST] them haven't evacuated yet.
 
 
 
[ST] As the airboat circles, dipping lower, the Once Dead can make out the square shapes of troops standing in formation on what amounts to a parade ground outside the village proper.
 
 
 
[ST] Morta starts to spit over the railing, but stops herself.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "I wish they had the cliffs that your old home did."  He comments quietly, perhaps unwisely, to Selza.
 
 
 
[ST] "It didn't save us," Selza answers quietly, casting a glance, for some reason, at Otter. "But I would take them now, yes."
 
 
 
[Miruna] "Nothing would have then.  Its not so bad this time round."  Hopefully.
 
 
 
[ST] "Hopefully."
 
 
 
[ST] The airboat settles with a bone-jarring jolt. Savage Bear-Daughter's teeth click together audibly as she is jostled.
 
 
 
[Otter] "Don't be so gloomy," Otter says cheerfully. "The fighting hasn't even started yet."
 
 
 
[Otter] She laughs unkindly at Bear-Daughter's discomfiture, and jumps over the side.
 
 
 
[Otter] She lands gracefully on her feet, like a cat. Or a fox.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "She's been in a fight before, I know that," he excuses for her half-heartedly.  Once they'd all fought together, resentments would settle down.
 
 
 
[ST] Bear Daughter signs something in flickering language to Selza, who only nods. As Otter lands, she draws a scattering of applause from the ranks of gathered troops. A pair of women clad in mail approach. One is older, with short, gray hair and a pair of hard, merciless eyes. The other is scarcely much older than Otter, with long, dark hair, a puglike nose, and a pair of heavy, smirking brows.
 
 
 
[ST] Morta only nods at Miruna's comment. The others seem not to hear it at all. By the time the other Once Dead arrive at the bottom of the ship's boarding ramp, the younger woman is tapping a foot with impatience. Not a lot, but enough to show.
 
 
 
[ST] "Welcome," she says, voice tight. "I am Winglord Sela, and this is Winglord Leaping Orca." She gestures towards the older woman.
 
 
 
[Miruna] Miruna hops over the side as soon as the ship settles down properly.  He didn't want the initial introductions to be left to just Otter.  He had his helmet in hand, but kept it off to meet the officers.
 
 
 
[Otter] "Thank you for your welcome," Otter says politely. She bows her head. "I am Spirtely Otter, of the Fox-and-Bear Tribe. And the Once Dead," she adds, a palpable afterthought.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He gives a solemn nod.  "Well met Winglord, Winglord.  I am Miruna, and these are my squad, Otter, Bear-Daughter, Selza and Morta."
 
 
 
[ST] "And Startled Rabbit," the voice from behind him fairly drips with contempt. Sela's eyes flick to each in turn. "Fantastic. I command the Bloody Bears, Icehome milita, Fifth Wing. Leaping Orca commands the Black Trout, Icehome militia, Sixth Wing. We are. Pleased. To make your acquaintance."
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter's eyes widen a bit at the discourtesy, then suddenly she understands. They resented their displacement.
 
 
 
[Otter] But how to soothe them? "Likewise," Otter says, glancing at Miruna.
 
 
 
[ST] "Gunnar Strongarm commands the Elk Tribe riders, but he is out on patrol," Leaping Orca adds.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He'd half expected it.  There wasn't much to say, since he was going to be running things.  They'd just have to eat their pride.  "I've read the reports, but I want to hear your assessment of the troops and fortifications directly."
 
 
 
[ST] "Let's retire to the command tend, then." Orca says. She seems to be taking all this better than Sela. "I'll lead the way."
 
 
 
[Miruna] He nods.  "Let me greet the troops first.  I'll keep it brief.  That way they don't ahve to stay formed up all morning."  He steps past the group, ignoring Sela, who didn't especially like him taking that initiative.
 
 
 
[ST] Sela looks after him with barely repressed annoyance, heaving a sigh as he goes.
 
 
 
[ST] "I've had warmer welcomes," Rabbit observes. This earns her a frosty glance.
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter glances at them both and decides that the conversation would not be improved by being added to. She runs to catch up with Miruna.
 
 
 
[ST] The troops stand in more or less orderly rows.  A wing resides on each side of the parade ground. The Bears and Trout are easily spotted by their insignias. Their captains look at the newcomers with rote discipline that might not last a second in real battle.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He centers himself infront of the ranked troops.  "Command has sent us Once Dead here, because some of us have fought these Wolf-Bastards before, and the rest of us have killed more troubles of the League than any living man around.  Now, I'll do what I can to help, but I don't think you need me here.  I see a few hundred disciplined, well armed, well led soldiers here, and I expect that we are going to kick the Wolves tails so hard up their asses that they'll be shitting their own fur for weeks."
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter grins at this. "Don't expect to leave them alive to shit, myself," she puts in.
 
 
 
[ST] The troops give an obliging shout, but it's hard to tell if the comment has sunk in. Many of them, no doubt, resent their commanders being usurped. As plans went, there were probably better ones.  A much louder cheer comes from the residents of the Emerald, who have gathered at the edge of the field to watch the landing.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He grins wide enough that the scar pulls it off center, and waves his helmet at the troops, before moving off with the commanders to see what they had to tell him.  If the troops were resenting them for usurping thier command, that either spoke well of the commanders, or it said they weren't strong enough to give proper discipline.
 
 
 
[ST] While the scale lords disperse the wings, Orca and Sela lead the Once Dead to their command post, which has been set up on the ground floor of the Emerald's meeting house. The scrawled drawings of children lie piled in a corner - now, maps and glyphs cover all of the walls and most of the tables. It is a scene of barely organized chaos.
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter steps up as Miruna leaves, glancing at his back and grinning.  "Give another cheer for glory, friends-of-battle.  We have the advantage of terrain, advantage among  local divinity, and we'll be fighting them at places of our choosing." She smiles. "And we're fighting for our homes. This is something we'll all tell our grandchildren about." She waves to them, and then follows Miruna in.
 
 
 
[ST] "Don't ask me to be happy about this," Sela says. "I think it's a mistake. I don't trust these orders. And I'm not sure if I trust you. Deadmen, really? Half of you were criminals, and the other half are insane."
 
 
 
[Otter] She had figured it out: she was going to watch him, learn from him, and once she knew everything he did she would learn how to be better than him.
 
 
 
[Otter] "I'm not a criminal!" Otter pipes up. "I don't think Miruna is either." She stares mediatively at a wall. "Or Selza. Startled Rabbit is, probably."
 
 
 
[Miruna] He gives her a short glare.  "We give up our lives and crimes when we die.  All of us have bled for the League, and we will again."  And those who did still cause trouble solved more of it than they caused.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He moves to the maps.  He didn't want them to have time to say anything that he would ahve to react to.  "How are your defenses set up?"
 
 
 
[ST] Bear-Daughter gives a warning grunt in Otter's direction. Sela leans against the table, brushing sweaty strands of hair out of her eyes. "Fine. Maybe that's true. I hope it is. I didn't say I wouldn't do it. But if you're not worthy of the faith the League has in you... I'll make sure you regret it."
 
 
 
[ST] Orca hurriedly leaps in.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "If I'm not the Wolves will.  You give my corpse a kickafter the battle if you want."
 
 
 
[ST] "Well, you can see on the maps that the Emerald isn't particularly secure. Multiple ways in. The plateau itself isn't very high. We can't be everywhere at once. We don't have the troops."
 
 
 
[ST] Sela nods. "What we do will have to depend on what they do. And we don't know how many of them are coming for us."
 
 
 
[Otter] "Do we have scouts out looking for them? Our scouts, I mean? How far out are their pickets- how much warning would we have?"
 
 
 
[Miruna] "Do you have plans in place for the probable approaches - maybe a berm or a trench?
 
 
 
[Otter] Though you never knew. They could be bloody insane enough to hide in a wyld fog or somesuch. She heard beastmen didn't regard mutation with the same revulsion as proper people did.
 
 
 
[Miruna] They certainly sounded a bit passive about it for his tastes.  Sure, they couldn't know what they had to do before the enemy showed up, but they could have prepared for some of it, thought about it at least.
 
 
 
[ST] "We haven't been here long enough to build much. We only got here a day before you. There are some defenses already in place, though. A small trench in Shaha's Defile. There are the ruins of a fortress about ten miles south of here, but it's beyond our power to restore in the time we have."
 
 
 
[ST] "We're hoping that the enemy won't advance through the Wyldfog Zone," Orca adds. "But I do not believe we can count on that."
 
 
 
[Otter] "Are there any Fair Folk who live there?"
 
 
 
[Miruna] "You've had a look at it - I couldn't see much of it from the air.  It seems too far south to defend if it can't hold by itself, but do you think its strong enough to be valuable for the enemy?  Might be we should we rip it down ourselves, and use the stone for something else."
 
 
 
[ST] "Not according to the locals," Sela says. "Or at least none they ever see. That doesn't mean much, though."
 
 
 
[ST] "As for the fortress, it's more defensible than most locations. They'll probably try to capture it. It's old stone, though, and the ones that are left are still strong. I don't know if we have time to dismantle it before the Wolf is on us. Her main force can't be more'n a few days away."
 
 
 
[Otter] "What's the last intelligence you have of her?" If it had been a Fox-and-Bear battle, they would KNOW how many fighters were coming.
 
 
 
[ST] "Her main force numbers in the tens of thousands, but we won't see that. We won't know what we will see till it splits away from the main force."
 
 
 
[Miruna] "If we can't hold the fort, the airship can break its military value pretty quickly."
 
 
 
[Otter] "Better to spend those bombs on the enemy," Otter observes. She cocks a head. "Unless we want to set a trap?"
 
 
 
[Miruna] "How are the units you are commanding - I see what it says on paper, but you've lived with them.  Are they disciplined.  Will they hold?"
 
 
 
[ST] "The Bears are the best unit in the League's milita," Sela says. She pauses only a moment before adding. "The Trout are good too. The Elk riders are what you would expect. Brave and somewhat reckless. They will all hold, if they are led well."
 
 
 
[Otter] "I like them already."
 
 
 
[Miruna] He nods.  "They will be.  You said the Elk Riders were out scouting?  When are they due back in?"
 
 
 
[ST] Selza looks askance at Otter, but doesn't say anything.
 
 
 
[ST] "They should be in by noon. Now that the airboat is here, we can also use it for reconaissance." Sela nods firmly. "That, at the very least, you have brought us."
 
 
 
[Otter] It's a shame that Elk wasn't here. He could show these provincial greenfielders a thing or two about reconnoitering.
 
 
 
[ST] As the day wears on and the airboat prepares to depart, heavy clouds fill the sky, and a light snowfall begins to fall across the region.
 
 
 
[Otter] "If we kept the airboat up high, over the clouds, and launched gliders....Perhaps we could preserve the element of their surprised we're not surprised."
 
 
 
[Otter] She has pulled on gloves of white fox fur.
 
 
 
[Miruna] Miruna nods.  He runs over to the airship to get it out as fast as possible.  THey needed information as fast as they could get it.  "I need you to do a run south, and see what you can.  Make a loop, just incase they aren't coming straight at us.  Keep low at first, and return immediately if you see them.  But once you are more than a day's march from us, try to get into the clouds and use the gliders for recon.  I'll lea
 
 
 
[Miruna] But once you are more than a day's march from us, try to get into the clouds and use the gliders for recon.  I'll leave them with you for now.  Try not to be seen, if you can help it.  If you see the Elk Riders in trouble, don't engage unless you are sure you can pull them out.  Don't compound any mistakes they are making."
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter tags along and watches. The green-eyed glider is one of their best, and when his officer tells him the mission he asks for a bead from Otter's hair, for luck. He says it with a grin that's half a smirk, so she punches him in the shoulder, but she she gives him a bead anyway. He kisses it before he loops it into his hair, and she blushes.
 
 
 
[ST] The captain of the airboat nods, saluting by raising her hand in the traditional Haslanti fashion. The glider pilot extends a hand over the side to Otter. "Coming along? We could use another set of eyes."
 
 
 
[Otter] Her eyes brighten. "That sounds like-"
 
 
 
[Miruna] "We need her here," he quickly steps on it before she can say any more. He didn't want her out with the recon just yet.  She'd been a bit too eager, and besdes, he'd need all the help he could get evaluating the troops they had on teh ground.
 
 
 
[ST] "Best of luck, then, beautiful," the glider pilot says with a nod. There is a general commotion behind him, and he blushes slightly before disappearing from the rail.
 
 
 
[Otter] Her heart belongs to Elk, but he is a nice young man, Otter decides benevolently. 
 
 
 
[ST] After a final check, the airboat lifts into the sky, its tethers cut. It soon dwindles to a black dot against the gray backdrop of the clouds, winding its way south.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "We need to evaluate all the militia here, and run them through drills if we can."
 
 
 
[Miruna] He says it in halfway appology.  "Lets get some rack space - we can divvy things up there."
 
 
 
[ST] Selza nods. "At least the winglords seem willing to folllow orders. For the moment."
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter nods, confining herself to a wistful, "It's been a long time since I went gliding."
 
 
 
[Miruna] The nearby inn was already full of officers and their servants.  Miruna didn';t want to turf them if he didn't have to, but they needed to be close to the command area.  He commandeered a nearby house, instead.  People who would spit in a militiaman's face tended to go quieter with the Once Dead.
 
 
 
[Miruna] They each claimed rooms, or at least beds, of their own, and tossed whatever extra kit they'd brought down.  Then they gathered in the kitchen.  "We need to assess all of the troops here.  And it looks to me like we're going to have to command them ourselves."  Sela didn't have enough initiative, and the others hadn't had the stomach for it, from what he could see.
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter looks alarmingly excited, though she doesn't say anything right then.
 
 
 
[Otter] Then she bursts out: "I get my own command?"
 
 
 
[ST] Selza sighs heavily, seating herself on the corner of the table. "Can we hold them? We don't even know how many thousands may be coming here."
 
 
 
[Miruna] He tries not to wince.  Really, he does.  "We all do, yeah, but you still listen to orders, and you don't charge when you don't need to!"  He wasn't going to tell her to not charge without orders.  The Once Dead didn't work like that, and besiudes, communications might well break down.  Never give an order you know wouldn't, shouldn't oir couldn't be obeyed.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "We'll see what they're made of tomorrow.  The Bears do have a reputation, and I haven't heard anything bad about the Trout."
 
 
 
[Miruna] "We don't know what we're up against yet, but we'd better divvy command now, so we can each take our soldiers through their paces."
 
 
 
[Otter] "Charge? I get the Elk Riders?" She glows and hugs Miruna. "I'll take good care of them, I promise!"
 
 
 
[Miruna] "Foot can charge too, lass.  But you grew up with the tribes, right?  I can't go with them, and I expect you're the best rider.  But I tell you now, I expect I'll be holding them as a fast acting reserve at least at the beginning."
 
 
 
[ST] "What about the rest of us?" Rabbit snaps. "What's Short, Dark, and Tongueless over there gonna do?"
 
 
 
[Otter] "Of course. Highly mobile. Highly dangerous." She keeps her lips buttoned on all the stories she had grown up on about heroic calvary charges; nothing, she reflected, would diminish her credibility more.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "Bear-Daughter, you can ride an Elk also," he half asks, "so you're with them also.  I want to split the Trout into two wings.  Selza and Rabbit, you take them.  Morta and I will be with the Bears."
 
 
 
[ST] "I've never seen a bear," Morta comments, somewhat incongruously.
 
 
 
[Miruna] Morta seemed like she couldn't handle troops, so she would be where she wouldn't be running a command separately.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "After noon, we make sure they all know which way to point the pike.  You all better go and deal with the unit commanders you'll be 'advising.'  First impressions count, so make sure none of them will cross you.
 
 
 
[Otter] Otter's lips thin as she glances at Bear-Daughter, but she doesn't object. It would be ungracious reject even a Frost Bear as a subordinate.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He made a quick hidden gesture to Bear-Daughter.  They'd need to talk in private after this.
 
 
 
[ST] As the others file out to attend to their duties, Bear-Daughter lingers. It's not hard for her to go unnoticed; she was quiet even before losing her voice. She gives Selza a pat on the shoulder as she goes, then turns to look at Miruna, raising a dark eyebrow.
 
 
 
[Miruna] The others left to accost their new subbordinates.  He felt sorry for Rabbit's lot, as pissed as she was.  Do them good, though.  "You get additional orders.  Sorry to saddle you with it, but you need to make sure Otter comes out of this alive.  Despite herself, yeah?  Its political.  And stop her if she starts to do something stupid with the Elk cavalry."
 
 
 
[ST] She stops for a minute, holding up her hand and opening and closing it rapidly to display the other woman talking. Her smile is derisive. After a moment, she shrugs and nods her head.
 
 
 
[Miruna] He gives a small half smile.  "We don't get to humiliate her in front of the troops, either.  If we can, we get her to come out of this looking good.  But she survives, or apparently someone up the line catches hell."
 
 
 
[ST] Her hands flicker in a pattern that seems to suggest: Politics. But she seems willing enough to listen. A good soldier, for all her wild nature.
 
 
 
[Miruna] "I know I can trust you.  You pulled through that hell-slog better than most of the veteran Dead.  Get going, maybe you get to hear her pre-victory speech."
 
 
 
[ST] She nods, smiling a little at the praise as she leaves.
 

Latest revision as of 01:08, 29 January 2011

Delete.