[ic] nameless III: lost and found

[Stagger_Lee]

Rhys smiles sweetly at the sergeant's bulging vein, and mumbles an apology, though neither remorse nor concern show on his brow.

He bows towards the reeve. "I've no doubt the seargent is very capable. But if there's any truth to this story of the goblins assembling, we may not be able to find a place for *all* of their snouts," without a hint of sarcasm, and looking towards the Sergeant, "Not that I'm doubting the efficacy of you or your men, Sergeant."

He then turns and examines Nate, his eyes flicking over the man's wounds, seeming to weigh him. He ends with a friendly, assuring smile, though he doesn't carry enough weight for that assurance to mean much.

 

[Maerdwyn]

Fredar keeps the grim smile off his face as Nate speaks, but not easily. He may not have been with the Seventh long, but he's seen enough in the past week to know what Nate must be feeling in response to Sgt Dobbel's dismissive assessment. Still, the bastard decides whether or not we eat tonight, so not much point in showing him up any further. We're not going to get much support from him working with him directly, though. Best to go around him.

With Nate having stepped back, Fredar steps forward and addresses the Sergeant, delivering a strictly by the book salute before he speaks "Sir. Permission to answer the Landcarl?" Assuming it is granted, he turns to the landcarl and says, "Sir, our main priority was, of course, to fulfill our orders by delivering the letters of warning to Killingtom and the other townships. As far as the evidence for, and the questionable importance of, a gathering horde of goblins that threatening to sweep out of the forests, I leave it to the judgement of those above my rank. But if I may speak freely, the story makes the most sense if you hear it as part of the whole story of what the Seventh has been through since the goblin raids began."

He pauses momentarily, letting the Reeve and the Landcarl consider this, and deciding whether or not to go on. Worth a shot. "Of course, being the only original member of the company, Nate would be most able to present the information to you in its full context." Assuming he's able to after a whipping, he adds with his eyes, but not his voice. Thus finished, Fredar steps back.

 

[doghead]

The Reeve listens to the conversation with a troubled look on his face. This is all getting so awfully complicated. As Rhys and Fredar add their piece to it all, the Reeve begins to get agitated.

"I'm not sure I understanding *exactly* what you are driving at Guardsman. But it seems to me the gist of it is that there isn't any proof as such.

"No don't get me wrong, " he adds hastily. "I'm not doubting your honesty or good intentions. I'm sure that after all that you have been through, it would seem that the goblins are up to something. But as it has been already mentioned, you have come through alot and perhaps right now you are not in the best state of mind to consider these things calmly and rationally. And hasty decisions are dangerous decisions," he concludes in the songsong manner of one quoting a favourite phrase.

"Yes. Yes. Thats it. Look at you. Good gods, you're wounded. And you haven't event been give time to wash up somewhat. Shame on us for our lack of consideration and hospitality."

The reeve turns his attention to the others.

"I think that we have heard all we need right now. I suggest that, um we allow these fine men to retire to the barracks where they can clean up and have their wounds attended to. Master Travaille, would be so kind as to see to that?

"Sergeant, um, please see to it that these men are feed and looked after. And as we may have some more questions for them later, er ... tomorrow, please ensure that they are available.

"And so if there is nothing else? ... No? Then this meeting is dismissed."

The reeve stands and begins to pull his cloak straight around his shoulders. There are a few quiet words spoken betwen the two merchants. The sergeant gives the reeve a sullen salute and mumbled "As you wish, Master Reeve."

 

[DrZombie]

Nate waits for what is coming. Jaw and fists clenched, still angry at the sergeant for ridiculing the deaths of his friends. Fat stupid inbred piece of horse-manure. You try whipping me and I'll swear you'll regret it.
When he hears the sergeant ordered to get them some food and some healing he relaxes a fraction. He might be slow to anger, but he's even slower to forgive.
Gods, what have I gotten myself into. It seemed like such an adventure, and now some fat sweaty pig wants to lash me because he's to dumb to realise what's going on, and all my friends are dead. I don't know who, but someone's gonna pay the price. And he's gonna pay hard.

 

[doghead]

The sergeant turns the members of the Seventh. "Follow me." He leads you out of the room and downstairs. "Wait here." He walks over to where one of the local guardmen stands at the door chatting to the small crowd of half a dozen who remain.

"Get them to the barracks. Have their wounds tended to if need be. But Master Ay'Tennar has booked himself a dance with the lash. Get it ready. I'll be over shortly."

Turning back to the Seventh, he says, "Go with the corporal. And Master Ay'Tennar, there is nowhere to run to. So don't even think about it."

Without another look in you direction he stomps back across the hall and up the stairs you just came down.

The corporal's gaze lingers on you for a moment before he speaks. "Allright then, follow me," he says quietly. He steps outside. Those outside step back to make way.

 

[DrZombie]

Running away? Not only is he fat and dumb, he's a coward as well. This is bloody gonna hurt. But I'll take it like a man, by the Gods. Won't give him the bloody satisfaction.

Nate walks outside, face blank, trying not to show any emotion whatsoever. He winces as he takes off his chain shirt and undershirt. His side is black and blue from stopping a club the hard way, and on his chest a half-healed gash starts bleeding again. Wordless, he hands his shirt to one of the Seven. He rummages in his backpack untill he finds a piece of oakwood. The handle of Mr.Hoggs' scythe. Never knew I'd use it for this.

Basterd is making me wait. Sadistic piece of dung.

 

[Maerdwyn]

Run away? Fredar thinks incredulously. Does the sergeant seriously think a man who's got the stones to stick with a mission that's gotten six of his friends killed or worse is going to be scared off by a lashing? All he's doing is making sure none of us ever pays attention to a word he says, and making a long enemy of the person who's probably best suited to lead the Seventh while we protect his pissant little town. And I'll be damned if I'm going back to get healed, fed, and bathed while the bastard get his jollies at Nate's expense.

Fredar takes Nate's shirt, and steps back, but makes no move toward the barracks. He looks not at Nate, but in the direction from which the sergeant will be returning.

 

[doghead]

An awkward titter runs though the group outside the town hall doors as Nate begins taking off his shirt.

"Whats he doing .. The sergeant said something about the lash ... Looks like he's keen to get started ... They're not going to do it here are they? ... Lords look at him, he's been mauled ... Goblins I ...

The corporal, alerted to the fact that something is up turns around with a puzzled look on his face. "What in all that is holy are you doing? Get your shirt back on now. And fall in behind!" he yells in surprise when he finally registers whats happening.

What in blazers are they going to whip Nate for? ... Nate? You know him? ... Of course, its the Ay'Tennar boy, the blacksmith. Was up here last year some time remember? ... Aye, I remember did a good job on them brackets ...

"Hey Hodgiss, whats going on?"

"Yeah, what's up with this whippping?"

The corporal looks around to face the villagers. "Ah, sergeants orders," he begins awkwardly. "Ah ..."

"Ah ...," mimics one of the woman, "think you need your head examined."

"Whats he done? Give him to me. I'll sort him out," barks another fairly formidable looking matron. "Good and proper like!" To which suggestion there is a shout of laughter. Matron Honnis, Nate recalls, has been a widow for a number of years now.

The corporal looks desperately to the door of the hall.

 

[Maerdwyn]

ooc: are we under orders regarding who we can and cannot tell about the goblins?

 

[doghead]

Your orders were to convey letters to the town and villages between Seven and Killingtom, as well as inform the inhabitants any other farms or manors along the way.* At Killingtom you were to support the garrison there until further orders. So actually, it was your job to inform people about the goblins.

* As a result of a long history of hostilities with the goblins (and others), almost all of the population of the region lives within walled towns or villages. However, about 20 years ago the goblins were driven back deep into the forests and there has been little goblin activity since. So there has been a fair bit of building happening outside the walls, as day cabins become cottages, summer camps become farms etc.