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Adventures in Eberron> Chapter 32 posted 08-08-05>
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<blockquote data-quote="skullsmurfer" data-source="post: 2419803" data-attributes="member: 17151"><p><strong>The Hazards of Politics, Chapter 19</strong></p><p></p><p>Captain Rolland Sevin has been staring at the thrice cursed crate for the entire shift. The City Council promoted him to the rank of High Captain and sent him four irritating assistants. He is now in charge of 120 men, 4 warrant officers, 8 Sergeants and a horde of volunteers from the various crews that work in the underground. A contingent from House Cannith is due any moment to cart away the remains of the enemy war-forged. Two of the bodies drove one of their Artificers into a frenzy. He's been dotting over the remains for nine hours now. </p><p></p><p> A bearded wizard from the Twelve took one of the plague jars and left the other two behind. He had a letter from the Seat of Breland. The Council sent word that any one else that attempts collect a sample should be arrested, lethal force is authorized. The Inquisitors of the Silver Flame have been rotating on five hour shifts. They have already killed a changeling impersonating a guardsman. Flamers are entirely too obsessed with the idea of Smiting. The real man's corpse was found in the goblin refuse pile. A request for another Watch Mage has been denied. </p><p></p><p> Lady Eunice Nigma has all but disappeared. He received a letter claiming she has been assigned to a field office. She didn't apply the rose perfume to the letter, but she sent a lacy, scented handkerchief with a separate courier. It is an old fashioned gesture, typical of mature Nobility, he is flattered. Captain Sevin assumes she is in some sort of trouble. An agent from House Cannith denied her existence altogether. When the Captain pressed and asked how they knew to come to the pump rooms, the man refused to speak any further. The Council is demanding that he make a report on his relationship with her. The Captain requested a Writ from them. Even as a minor noble, his private life is his business.</p><p></p><p> “You! What in blazes is your name?” The Captain barked at one of his new assistants.</p><p></p><p> “Roanberry, sir.” the man replied.</p><p></p><p> “Well, Roanberry, that fine blade in your hands is named Lucy. It has been in my family since the last king of Galifar. Don't ever touch it again, or I shall have you flogged.” Captain Sevin took the heavy falchion from the underling's undeserving grasp. He stared the man down until he was sure the threat had time to sink in. “Now go and get me Sgt. Ironson, Private Niabelis, and Private Grimmson. After you do that, find out why you are here irritating me while your other fellow assistants are nosing about my camp. I loathe spies, killing them was my exclusive duty during the war. I expect a written report in, say, three hours?”</p><p></p><p> The assistants may be spies, but as a High Captain he can probably have them executed for looking at the plague box for too long. First, he will test them some more, if he can turn them to some use, all the better. If not, he will play with them until he gets bored, then he will assign them to camp duties. The thought of a bunch Council toadies handling chamber pots makes him smile. The Inquisitors have yet to cross the line, but as soon as they do, he will replace them with Dog Soldiers. It is the mother of all ironies that as a Noble and and a Superior Officer, the only folk he can put his trust in are common soldiers. </p><p></p><p> “Sir! Sgt. Ironson reporting, Sir!” The grizzled officer saluted smartly and then stood at attention until acknowledged. The other two soldiers held their salutes two steps behind.</p><p> </p><p> “At ease. Pull up some seats, I have read your reports and I want to ask you all some questions.” The Captain said, trying to be as friendly as possible. He is too tired.</p><p></p><p> The biggest problem, Private Niabelis, was actually the easiest to solve. She decided to stay with the Dog Soldiers despite the Council's order for her release. As far as the Flame and the Sister are concerned, she signed the contract. Sgt. Ironson gets a medal for the battle with the dolgrim, the men will receive commendations. Private Grimmson, known as Sweet Lips among the men, is a different kind of hassle. The Silver Flame wants to have him examined for taint. They went through the City Council so he didn't have a chance to intervene. Inquisitor Pallas will perform the rite at the end of his shift.</p><p></p><p> “That zealot is getting on my last nerve.” Sgt. Ironson spat. “They should have cleared out hours ago!”</p><p></p><p> “I don't mind.” Sweet Lips stated. “The Chaplain will be there, won't he?”</p><p></p><p> “It takes three Inquisitors to perform an examination.” Niabelis spoke up. “It is uncomfortable, so if he is a Berserker he may not keep his composure.”</p><p></p><p> “What do you mean IF !?” The Sergeant grumbled. “Woman, ye should get yer priorities straightened out.” Private Niabelis looked stricken at those words. Her face turned a deep crimson. Sgt. Ironson immediately felt bad, but he gave her the evil eye anyway.</p><p></p><p> “I can do it, Paw taught me how to keep the rage back” The young man admitted. “He wouldn't let me leave the farm until I could.” He turned to Sgt. Ironson.</p><p>“Tell him, uncle, I can do it.”</p><p></p><p> “Wait, Red Face Grimmson married your precious baby sister!? I thought you hated each other!”</p><p></p><p> “He asked me very politely.” The Sergeant said as he shrugged his shoulders. “Willamina threatened to become a cloistered handmaiden if I didn't give him an answer. I had never seen fear in that man's eyes before that day. That was the only thing that convinced me of his sincerity.”</p><p></p><p> “Wow. What about you Sister Niabelis?” Captain Sevin raised his eyebrows. “Any last minute revelations?” </p><p></p><p> “I no longer hold a council seat for the church and the Bishop suggested I take some time to think about my priorities. He described my political activities as morally suspect.” She said while she stared at the floor. “At the moment I am training to become a regimental Chaplain.”</p><p></p><p> “Alright then.” The Captain ended the conversation. He forgets that her type take things literally. As a Superior Officer, she merely obeyed his request as she would an order. Maybe the Sergeant will teach her how to think. “Let's hear about the ghoul mage you incinerated. I understand it gave you all a hard time.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="skullsmurfer, post: 2419803, member: 17151"] [b]The Hazards of Politics, Chapter 19[/b] Captain Rolland Sevin has been staring at the thrice cursed crate for the entire shift. The City Council promoted him to the rank of High Captain and sent him four irritating assistants. He is now in charge of 120 men, 4 warrant officers, 8 Sergeants and a horde of volunteers from the various crews that work in the underground. A contingent from House Cannith is due any moment to cart away the remains of the enemy war-forged. Two of the bodies drove one of their Artificers into a frenzy. He's been dotting over the remains for nine hours now. A bearded wizard from the Twelve took one of the plague jars and left the other two behind. He had a letter from the Seat of Breland. The Council sent word that any one else that attempts collect a sample should be arrested, lethal force is authorized. The Inquisitors of the Silver Flame have been rotating on five hour shifts. They have already killed a changeling impersonating a guardsman. Flamers are entirely too obsessed with the idea of Smiting. The real man's corpse was found in the goblin refuse pile. A request for another Watch Mage has been denied. Lady Eunice Nigma has all but disappeared. He received a letter claiming she has been assigned to a field office. She didn't apply the rose perfume to the letter, but she sent a lacy, scented handkerchief with a separate courier. It is an old fashioned gesture, typical of mature Nobility, he is flattered. Captain Sevin assumes she is in some sort of trouble. An agent from House Cannith denied her existence altogether. When the Captain pressed and asked how they knew to come to the pump rooms, the man refused to speak any further. The Council is demanding that he make a report on his relationship with her. The Captain requested a Writ from them. Even as a minor noble, his private life is his business. “You! What in blazes is your name?” The Captain barked at one of his new assistants. “Roanberry, sir.” the man replied. “Well, Roanberry, that fine blade in your hands is named Lucy. It has been in my family since the last king of Galifar. Don't ever touch it again, or I shall have you flogged.” Captain Sevin took the heavy falchion from the underling's undeserving grasp. He stared the man down until he was sure the threat had time to sink in. “Now go and get me Sgt. Ironson, Private Niabelis, and Private Grimmson. After you do that, find out why you are here irritating me while your other fellow assistants are nosing about my camp. I loathe spies, killing them was my exclusive duty during the war. I expect a written report in, say, three hours?” The assistants may be spies, but as a High Captain he can probably have them executed for looking at the plague box for too long. First, he will test them some more, if he can turn them to some use, all the better. If not, he will play with them until he gets bored, then he will assign them to camp duties. The thought of a bunch Council toadies handling chamber pots makes him smile. The Inquisitors have yet to cross the line, but as soon as they do, he will replace them with Dog Soldiers. It is the mother of all ironies that as a Noble and and a Superior Officer, the only folk he can put his trust in are common soldiers. “Sir! Sgt. Ironson reporting, Sir!” The grizzled officer saluted smartly and then stood at attention until acknowledged. The other two soldiers held their salutes two steps behind. “At ease. Pull up some seats, I have read your reports and I want to ask you all some questions.” The Captain said, trying to be as friendly as possible. He is too tired. The biggest problem, Private Niabelis, was actually the easiest to solve. She decided to stay with the Dog Soldiers despite the Council's order for her release. As far as the Flame and the Sister are concerned, she signed the contract. Sgt. Ironson gets a medal for the battle with the dolgrim, the men will receive commendations. Private Grimmson, known as Sweet Lips among the men, is a different kind of hassle. The Silver Flame wants to have him examined for taint. They went through the City Council so he didn't have a chance to intervene. Inquisitor Pallas will perform the rite at the end of his shift. “That zealot is getting on my last nerve.” Sgt. Ironson spat. “They should have cleared out hours ago!” “I don't mind.” Sweet Lips stated. “The Chaplain will be there, won't he?” “It takes three Inquisitors to perform an examination.” Niabelis spoke up. “It is uncomfortable, so if he is a Berserker he may not keep his composure.” “What do you mean IF !?” The Sergeant grumbled. “Woman, ye should get yer priorities straightened out.” Private Niabelis looked stricken at those words. Her face turned a deep crimson. Sgt. Ironson immediately felt bad, but he gave her the evil eye anyway. “I can do it, Paw taught me how to keep the rage back” The young man admitted. “He wouldn't let me leave the farm until I could.” He turned to Sgt. Ironson. “Tell him, uncle, I can do it.” “Wait, Red Face Grimmson married your precious baby sister!? I thought you hated each other!” “He asked me very politely.” The Sergeant said as he shrugged his shoulders. “Willamina threatened to become a cloistered handmaiden if I didn't give him an answer. I had never seen fear in that man's eyes before that day. That was the only thing that convinced me of his sincerity.” “Wow. What about you Sister Niabelis?” Captain Sevin raised his eyebrows. “Any last minute revelations?” “I no longer hold a council seat for the church and the Bishop suggested I take some time to think about my priorities. He described my political activities as morally suspect.” She said while she stared at the floor. “At the moment I am training to become a regimental Chaplain.” “Alright then.” The Captain ended the conversation. He forgets that her type take things literally. As a Superior Officer, she merely obeyed his request as she would an order. Maybe the Sergeant will teach her how to think. “Let's hear about the ghoul mage you incinerated. I understand it gave you all a hard time.” [/QUOTE]
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