(1868-05-17) Goodbye, and Good Luck
Goodbye, and Good Luck
Summary: The Galenthians depart from their allies in the Arrani Legion
Date: 17 Mai, 1868 IE
Related: All related to the reconquest of the d'Kemp Barony
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Jarret  Myrana  Thomas  

Aequor - Northern Road

The great Northern Road! Left by the mighty Vir Sidius Empire, it cuts through the land of Aequor, trod by armies and merchant caravans and simple travelers all the same, bordered by trees, sweeping through planes and leaping by bridges over deep valleys and canals and raging rivers. It touches the greatest cities and towns, sprouting villages and way-stations where roadside Inns offer shelter and food and couriers may take their rest or change horses. If one were to travel the whole length of the road, the changes of their surroundings as they moved north are breathtaking; moving from the dappled shade of beech, acacia and umbrella pines that punctuate rolling hills of grass and vineyards, then north to darker vistas of hemlocks, sugar maple and white ash in its damp, lush forests.

Smaller roads branch off of it to the west and east at various intervals; most anywhere in Aequor worth traveling to is accessible if one has the time and provisions. That doesn't make it safe, however, for highwaymen and every manner of danger both of nature and man plague the unwatched miles, and its the foolish traveler who goes without armed escort.

17 Mai, 1868 IE

A freak blizzard descended on the Argent Legion last week, like winter's last spiteful gout, burying everything in snow and nearly blowing every pavilion and tent onto its side in the process for three days.

That's passed now, and it seems that Spring has finally set its roots into Kemp lands behind the world south of here; the fields are blooming riotously with flowers and the snow has all but dissapeared aside from those patches which cling to the shadows of trees and deep gullies where the sun never quite reaches.

The Galenthian contingent and their captive Kentairish charges had almost been ready to leave when last week's blizzard set in, and this very nearly caused a catastrophe - where were the blankets, the firewood, and the food stores? Fortunately, the well organised nature of the Arrani Legion's Argent attachments ensured that all had just enough to go around… but only just enough.

Now the Galenthians are lined up in marching order. Wagons have been constructed or commandeered to transport the wounded as well a portion of the rather significant loot, primarily weapons and armour, captured from the Kentairish soldiers. Horses are marshalled and men divided into guard sections around groups of the unarmed, but still comfortable looking prisoners who weeks earlier had been arrayed against their captors in battle. Thomas is at the front of the column ahorse his light Tarris charger, armoured only in his cuirass with a wool cap on his head, though his helmet, long shield and some other bits of armour are strapped in his saddle bags. He looks over the troops behind with vague satisfaction.

Having kept to himself a bit in the last few days, after receiving a message, Jarret is ready with the others. He's wearing his usual armor, but his helmet is hanging from his saddle. Mounted on Kholstomer, his horse, he's near where Thomas is, watching the world around him rather absently. And no wool cap on his head at the moment.

Myrana was one of those who got caught out in the blizzard away from the encampment, along with her bodyguard and her brother Dario. She walks up now, flush in the cheeks with the last vestiges of a cold, but otherwise hale and hearty as ever… if you can call someone who rather resembles an alabastar impression of a real life woman 'hearty'. Who carved this statue short and kind of chubby, anyhow?

"Have you gotten everything you need?" She asks, looking at a list in her hands that keeps trying to tug away in the breeze. "The way south should be safe enough, I believe, till you turn west towards Lyionesse."

"More supplies than if all goes well… given the blizzard, and so forth. If there's a repeat performance, my lady, I think we shall be alright." Thomas smiles wanly at Myrana, dipping his head at her from the saddle. He cocks an eyebrow and glances at Jarret. "Until we turn west, my lady? What kind of perils await on THAT road?"

"There are always perils," Jarret remarks, before he nods a little as he hears what's said, offering a brief smile in Myrana's direction, before chuckling. "Can't be that perilous. I mean, bad news managed to get through, right?"

"That is closer to the sea, and the rivers are wider there," Myrana says, opening her hands illustratively. "As I discovered in my home of Fiorello, it is not always possible, even for my father's fleet of ships, to keep all intruders from the rivers of Aequor. There are simply too many to safeguard from the Raiders." A pause as she reflects that it was her brother Nicolo who betrayed her to the Kentaire ships in an attempt to recover his onetime status as Heir to their house, but the surface story, and one she must continue to pretend to believe, is that it was mischance, rather than design. Nevertheless, her blue eyes darken to a stormy hue and her lips thin as she remembers it.

"Perilous news?" she asks, shaking her head as she tries to snap out of it; she misheard Jarret a little, and looks curiously up at him.

Thomas grumbles a bit, but only so much as is acceptable for a nobleman. "Bandits? I do suppose that war time sees an explosion of them, like mushrooms in a dark, dank forest. We'll have to keep our troops under tight control and our nightly camps well patrolled." He too is curious about what Jarret's said, cocking an eyebrow at the Sokar heir.

Myrana snorts. As an Armaz, she has RATHER AN OPINION on bandits, raiders, and pirates. They are extremely bad for profits.

And mushrooms. Oohhh mushrooms with bacon. Myrana's gaze unfocuses slightly… and then her stomach growls very audibly. She looks down, mortified.

"Ah, bandits," Jarret remarks, before he offers a brief grin. "I'm sure the men could enjoy a few training exercises in dealing with bandits, if needed, yes?" A brief shrug after that. "It's just that I got some… unwanted news from back home, a few days ago. And since the messenger got through, we should be able to get back safely."

"You're not being married off to some wine-guzzling lush, are you?" Myrana asks. She grins, totally unapologetic for having escaped the common, expected fate of marrying someone you don't well know, or maybe even dislike. Hohoho! "Invest in hidden stills."

Jarret grimaces a bit at Myrana's words. "I can't really answer that at the moment," he replies, before he adds, "Nothing's for certain, yet." A brief pause, before he shrugs at Thomas, "Ah, but fighting an organized army is different than fighting bandits, after all."

Thomas might hold his ground to a subordinate, but Jarret is his peer. He smiles and raises his hands in the air to concede the point. "This is true, Sir Jarret, and bandits do tend to spring up during the wars. Like a wolf pack smelling blood."

"…oh. OH! Oh, eh- I spoke a little hastily." Myrana was closer to the mark than she realized; so Jarret's had engagement news. Hopefully whoever she is, she's a good match. "You're a very handsome man; I'm sure your mother was able to find a good match for you." When in doubt, compliment. She strokes her chin thoughtfully, and siezes upon the other subject. "These aren't bandits; they're Raiders. This far north, they are better supplied than they are when they attack, say, Gryphon Point. You must be careful."

There's a brief shrug from Jarret as he hears Myrana's words. "The letter mentioned someone, but I don't know…" He shrugs, before he nods again at the mention of the Raiders. "We promise we'll be careful," he replies, nodding to Thomas as well.

"And if you happen to come across any," Myrana adds with a delicate clearing of her throat, a devious light coming into her eyes. "I have a friend who is very interested in their cultural symbolism. If you notice anything interestng about their ships or devices, you might write to me about it." Beat. "So I can tell her."

Thomas's eyebrows knit together when Myrana distinguishes between these two categories of criminals. "Please, pray tell, what are Raiders, if they aren't bandits? I had understood that was a local word for them. Is there more to it?" He pauses a moment, thinking, and then asks, "Do you mean White Hallers?"

"Yes," she says. "There are houses of theirs who are friendly to Four Corners, but many of them are dangerous."

Jarret whistles momentarily as he hears the conversation, raising his eyebrows at Myrana's words. "You have some strange friends, you know…" he remarks.

"Hmm. Yes, we actually have a colony in the Tarris Duchy made up of some White Hall settlers. They're barbarians, but they are adapting and as they settle in civilised lands, will become so with our instruction, I think. They've got allies in their home, too, the Raskbrooks. Some are friendly. Many are not, it seems." Thomas scowls. "The rest are savages. A thousand years ago, they invaded the West and defeated our ancestors heavily. But that was then. We pushed them back into their sea, and will do so again if they decide they'd like to tangle."

Myrana's brows raise up, but doesn't demur. She simply doesn't know that much about White Hallers, but she has her suspicions after the war with Queen Kyrena of the Icenalia. The similarities are very strong, indeed, though there haven't been that many opportunities to investigate further. She tangles her fingers together in her braid behind the small of her back. "Strange friends are the merchant's strength," she says instead with a warm smile and a canny wink. "Now, you'd best be off while the sun is coming up rather than stalling overhead."

Jarret smiles, "Those from there I have met when they were not trying to kill me has been interesting people," he remarks, a bit lightly.

"I'm always rather afraid of ending up on someone's shoulder," says Myra, under her breath.

"Interesting indeed, Sir Jarret." But Myrana is right - the Galenthian army has been waiting while their commanders stalled, exchanging pleasantries and jokes with an Arrani Legion commander. "Baroness Myrana, it was an honour and a pleasure to take the field alongside you, your husband and your banners. I only wish we could finish the job and see these devils off with you, but our Queen must get to the south. At the least, I am glad that the way is almost clear. God speed to you." With a bow of his head, Baron Thomas Chandus turns to the signaller next to him and nods. The man blows the 'advance' and the Galenthian army steps off to the south, and eventually, Lyionesse.

"Take care, and don't get killed," Jarret offers with a brief grin to Myrana, before he starts moving with the others again now.

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