| Log Title |
| Summary: | Up atop the Cathedral, a lonely lute is played. Thomas, Helena & Jarret investigate, with a Varian soon making an appearance. |
| Date: | 1868-08-20 |
| Related: | The ongoing siege of Goldhollow. |
| NPCs: | {$npc} |
| Players: |
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| Atop the Cathedral of Goldhollow, amongst the Gargoyles. |
| Atop the Cathedral, gazing out across the city. |
| 1868-08-20 |
Perhaps the noise is bad enough, but worse is the fact that said noise really shouldn't be coming from way up there. A couple of sentries had already reported a couple of strains of a song that was bring murdered from upon high, a stringed instrument being tortured in a place where it shouldn't be. And so it seemed that it was indeed a good idea to pop up along to the roof of the Cathedral and see just what was going on, and good lord was it an awful lot of stairs.
Should you go upwards and onwards, you find…
Atop the Cathedral, seated at the base of a gargoyle that peers across the city, is a rather portly fellow who at the moment is idly strumming his lute, wrapped in the most ragged cloak of indeterminate colour, the hood drawn close about the man's features that are at the very least noticeably bearded. Beside him rests an old but well tended long cannon, and beside that an old axe. Another idle strum sends a few wavering chords forth, the noise isn't exactly the greatest, if anything it sounds like someone is garotting a wild cat, but along with the bad comes a few good strains that drift across the city. The very strains that the patrol mentioned probably. Though he pauses but once to take a swig from an amber-filled bottle, the bearded 'minstrel' of ill-repute soon strums another chord, before idly adjusting something at the top of the lute and trying once more. The difference isn't all that great.
—
A long day of combat has taxed the Galenthian forces to the extreme, and their commander, Baron Thomas Chandus, has been to and fro, observing from the main tower of Goldhollow's Keep with his newly aquired Parthian glass, directing reserves to this location or that, or reinforcing strongholds. He's made appearances in the fighting on several occasions, bringing a group of Sun Shield Guards, Burnished Spur Long Cannoneers and his Leatherback Archer Skirmishers to bear, enough to swing things.
He looks tired, but this is not his first siege. Hearing that 50 of the West's best heavy infantry have somehow broken through Rikton's blockade of Goldhollow, he's come down to meet them in the main square of the city, near where many troops are quartered in their fortifications. He's even heard that his liege is there. Are the rumours true?
More urgent, though, are the reports of poor music in the Cathedral, only a few hundred yards from their headquarters at Goldhollow's keep. Up Thomas goes, then, up all of those stairs. He's accompanied by Serjeant Verus, his shadow and minder. Perhaps foolish if there's risk of enemy there to have few with him, but all are needed elsewhere. "Who goes there?" He yells up the last flight of stairs, his helm fixed on his head, his shield held in front of him and his sword point forward.
—
Jarret has heard the Sound of Music, if it can really be called music, as well. He's made his way to the cathedral, glancing over towards Thomas as he follows the man up the stairs. Staying a little behind, if the Chandus wants to play hero, who's Jarret to take away that pleasure, hmmm? He has brought the poleaxe with him, kept in one hand, while the left hand holds a lightsilver handaxe kept ready.
—
Helena follows Jarret as she heard the horrible singing. "We are attacked from the outside, why does someone wish to assault us inside?" She says as she follows the two noblemen. She is of course fully armed and armored, since she JUST goot back from the front line of shield bolstering.
—
The shout from the stairs brings a smile to the minstrel's lips, even though the rather badly tuned instrument keeps up its infernal assault upon one of the senses at least! Yet, sat there and resting quite peacefully, if not for what could be lightly termed music, the portly fellow in the tattered cloak finally speaks out, "About bloody time! I thought I'd pop up here for the old view… then my knee started to ache again and the thought of all those sodding stairs seemed a trifle unwise!" The rich baritone rings out, the music finally ceasing as the lute is laid beside the long cannon and the axe. Pushing back his hood, a rich tumble of messy and lustrous grey hair bounces forth from beneath, "Sir Wulfred de Ufford! Just in case you'd forgotten what I sound like. Looks the same though. The city that is. A few extra holes in it though!"
—
The baritone voice rumbling down the stairs and nearly vibrating the stones of the cathedral are all the confirmation that Thomas needs to know of the hostility of its bearer. His sword lowers and slides back into its scabbard; his shield goes on his back and a smile comes to his face for the first time in days. "LORD Wulfred de Ufford of Edale. I won't have my loyal vassal pretending he's less important than he is." Uncharacteristically, Thomas actually goes in to grasp the man by his sides and embrace him. "Oh, bloody good to see you, Wulf. Bloody good indeed."
—
Jarret is unable to hold back a wide grin as he hears that voice. "Ah, for all…" he begins, until Wulfred introduces himself. "You crazy old man…" he comments rather lightly, before he adds, "We should stop meeting in this town, hmmm?" Turning to Helena, he offers her a smile, "Relax, Sir Helena. This is one of ours."
—
Helena removes her helmet, revealing her face as she tucks the helmet under her arm. "Greetings Milord." She says with a polite nod and turns to look at jarret. "I don;t usualy come across nobles who sing." She says, granted, she wouldent call the bellowing that came from the man singing anyway, but she isnt going to voice her opinion.
—
Wulfred steps into Thomas' embrace and squeezes the man with a good deal of strength, before stepping back and allowing that all too often repaired and stitched rag of a cloak to billow about him, "I figured I almost died here last time, so might as well see if I can't manage it again… almost on that spot over by the empty pedastal." He gestures with a flick of his terribly fire-scarred left hand, "Good to see you my dear fellow, that it is!" And with a broad grin directed at Jarret, the bearded bellower nods and lets slip a rich laugh, "There are worse places I am sure Lord Jarret! Personally, surrounded by you ugly bastards seemed like a fine choice! The wife will probably have my hide however." And to Helena, Wulfred offers a distinctly stiff bow, clearly ancient wounds and age ensure a certain stiffness, "Sir Helena? If I heard correctly! Good to make your acquaintance!" And slowly he rises once more, stretching as best he can, though his crooked left arm remains set against his side regardless, "Young blood! Just what we need against these corrupt bastards, never trust a Bishop or higher!"
—
"I think this gargoyle here is a replacement for the last one." By way of explanations, Thomas turns to the Kaedon knight, still bearing his smile. "During the siege of this place two years ago in the last war, then Sir Wulfred snuck up to the cathedral roof after fighting some damned assassin on one of the lower buildings. He tipped the predecessor of this monstrosity off the building and crushed a score of Thorn. I don't even know how he climbed anything." He reaches to poke Wulfred playfully in the stomach. "Maybe not so much climbing anymore, my lord?" He laughs. "How did you sneak into this town? I'd have figured that they had it sewed up tighly?"
—
Jarret grins as he hears that. "I'm sure there are worse places as well. It always seems that we end up surrounded by enemies when we meet here, though. It's good to see you, old man." A grin offered to Helena as well. "Are you asking us to sing for you?" he asks, lightly, before he looks back to Wulfred now.
—
Helena let's out a soft chuckle. "Well this town does seam to make heroes of people. I'm still trying to fight off the stories that I myself held the line on my own during the first seige." She says with a chuckle. "Though I wouldent mind trying again, if The good Barron would allow me the soldiers able to make such a push." She turns to jarret and raises an eyebrow. "The only singing I want, is Rollo at the end of my sword, and that army of his singing the 'return home' song once we chase them from our lands."
—
Wulfred barks, glancing back towards the end of the Cathedral he had scaled the last time, not because he wanted to, but because of that damned assassin, "Luck, bluster, and enough blood pumping through these veins to see off that coward and push the bloody thing off the edge. You had to winch me down though, I was leaking blood like a damned sieve." Jarret's words however provoke a bright grin, even as Wulf leans against the nearest gargoyle, "And it is good to see you, see, getting soft in my old age. Never have warmer words been spoken and to a Sokar of all things!" A wink soon follows, indeed a veritable sparkle given the threat of singing, "The Thorn hated our singing." But indeed it is Helena's bombast that inspires a hearty slap of the gargoyle beofre pointing at the young knight, "See, as long as we have young knights with that fire in their belly, we're fine! Why a few good men you should certainly have Sir Helena!"
—
Wulfred completely forgets Thomas' question. He is easily distracted…
—
"We need to sit down, Sir Helena, and formulate some new strategems for tomorrow." Thomas walks over to the edge of the cathedral's tower, looking towards the west over a copse of trees and an open field, to the city beyond. The strongholds and barricade infested roads can be seen from this high up, though details are hard to make out. "As you all know, except for you, my good Lord Wulfred, the field to our west and the trees are trapped all over with some devious devices implanted by Viscountess Kaedon and the Njorfolk. Good to have them in the absence of enough engineers. Beyond them are the two strongholds… well, the first line ones. We're holding them in a straight fight right now, and our ambushers have alerted them to the fact that the roofs are ours to play with. We need to switch things up."
—
Jarret grins again, "Indeed," he offers to Helena, before he grins at Wulfred. "Think the Rikton folks would hate our singing too?" he offers, lightly. "But, as the Baron here asked, how did you get here?" He then steps over towards the edge as well, nodding a little as he hears Thomas speak.
—
Helena looks over the edge and frowns as she set's her helmet down. "Aside from bute force… do we have pitch and stones? Maybe we could roll firey stones down the street and scare them off, then take the gained ground." She says, a quick assesment, but more a fancy idea then anything.
—
Heavy, well-polished boots click slowly up steps of the cathedral. Judging by the sound there is only one set, and so an armed assault seems unlikely at the very best unless it were something of a one-man army. Rounding the last curve of the stairs, the viscount Varian Reine appears slowly from the shaded interior of the cathedral via his leisurely pace. Ashwind jostles gently at the viscount's hip with each step, but the rest of the viscount is unarmoured. He appears to have divested himself of his plate before going strolling about Goldhollow; instead, he wears his casual attire of dark cloth and a heavier, long leather jacket over it embroidered with his house sigil. "So, this is where everyone was hiding then." His voice calls out from the doorway before he approaches further, his long blonde hair freshly washed of the blood that had soaked into it during his arrival earlier that very day.
—
"Step things up? Sounds bloody." Not that Wulf is quibbling as he takes a couple of steps towards Thomas and gazes out across the city and beyond, "Sounds like a good woman that Viscountess and me? Oh!" The old knight nods and rumbles thoughtfully, "Was watching for a while, but some din on the opposite side of the city proved an ample distraction. Snuck in through an old drain or something, covered and sealed it… and as to Sir Helena's idea, there's ample stone up here." Wulfred adds with regard to Helena's plan, "If they truly are believers, a few stones from a Cathedral shouldn't harm them too much, but if they are as corrupt as we think… they'll hurt." Though with Varian's arrival, Wulfred takes a step back from the edge and offers the man a respectful bow, "Your Excellency, always a pleasure and an honour."
—
Thomas is almost entirely too busy with explaining the flow of the siege from his perspective to really notice the sound of someone coming up the stairs, or at least pay mind to it. While his Serjeant at Arms Verus turns to face the staircase with alert eyes, Thomas's attention isn't drawn to it until he hears another long lost voice. Doing an about face, the Baron dips his head respectfully. "My liege. I had heard you'd broken through… most unexpected." He wears a big smile. "And appreciated. Two more nobles from the County of Windholme including its Viscount himself. Things can't but go well, now." He raises a finger to Helena. "I like that idea, Sir. I think we need to cease ambushing them as soon as they show up around the corner every time for a little bit, and prepare something nasty to that affect, yes. Though rolling large stones down the road might be a tad more difficult…"
—
Jarret raises an eyebrow as he sees Varian's arrival, offering the man a bit of a smile as well. "See, our force seems to get better and better. Well met, Viscount," he offers to the man, before he grins as he listens to Helena, and then Wulfred. "That sounds like a good plan," he offers, glancing out there once more. "There should be some way to make the stones move a bit faster, hmmm?"
—
Helena turns and takes a ponder. "Not stones… wagons, load them with straw and pitch, light them up with a few nasty urpises on the front of them, and have some strong lads push them, as we clear the main road, have our best and well rested fill the side streets, while our ambushers fire from above." She says as she takes a knee and looks over the city. "Push them right ot the gates, and then remake our battle ments." She states with a smile.
—
Varian bows neatly before those assembled, wearing his ever-polite smile as he rises back up out of the motion. "Good afternoon to you all, and well met. I am glad to have arrived before things either ended," he remarks with a faint bit of quiet laughter trailing after. A gloved hand moves to the pommel of Ashwind, resting there as he casts a quick glance out over the city visible from their vantage point before looking back to those gathered. "If it is more breathing room you require, I might be able to take some for you. The soldiers from Rikton were rather easily cowed earlier today, but perhaps they just hadn't seen a shield-wall before." Varian's free hand moves up to stroke his freshly shaven chin thoughtfully, but a small shrug follows nonetheless. "Either way, I bring fifty well-rested and armed men. Well, fourty nine. One of them took a spear to the stomach," he notes, ammending the count.
—
"Between the Viscount's men and Sir Helena's wagons… stone filled barrels are rather unpredictable and painful incidently, I think we'll bloody Rikton's men a good many times." Wulfred offers brightly as he steps back to the edge, resting a foot upon the nearest pedestal and lifting his good right hand to shield his eyes somewhat, "I so long to gaze at the gates of Rikton, cannon roaring at my side. One day…"
—
Thomas resumes his overview of the battlefield. "As I was saying, currently our first line of strongholds is under attack. They're manned by platoon groups with infantry, spears and some kind of missile. In the second line, we've got lighter groups. Still good troops but less heavy troops. And then we've our reserve. The problem with pushing them back, Sir Helena, is then we need to occupy the area they've been pushed from. We ceded the front gates for a reason - we've not the troops to hold it, and they can hammer us with their artillery until we give them up again. We can't afford to lose troops in the same way as they can, with their three to one advantage."
He reaches up to wipe some sweat and dust off of his forehead that had accrued there who knows when. "Your wagon idea CAN work, though, but we must do it in a time and place that makes sense… our streets are blockaded off, by and large, but we know the small side streets and and narrow alleyways. We can fill wagons, perhaps, in these streets, with the help of the citizens." Considering what his liege has to say, the Baron answers, "The Dragon's Claws are well needed and well appreciated. Given the length of your march, I think it would be fair to put them in reserve for a day, at least as of now. Your men are the best heavy infantry in the West, I think we can say, and it makes sense to use them in a group together where they can be potent."
Thomas considers. "Perhaps, your Excellency, you would consent to having them lead a push from the southern first line garrison? We could support them with our Reserve Platoon Number Two, led by Lord Wulfred - dismounted Burnished Spur knights, pike and cannoneers. Two lighter forces in the rear in reserve for this. At the same time, one of the raiding forces can steward these burning wagons. I'd prefer to have them laden with explosives if that's possible… but it may not be."
—
Jarret hmmms a little as he listens, shrugging a bit to himself. He glances around for a few moments, both in the direction of the enemy, and the opposite direction, but doesn't say anything right now.
—
Helena smiles. "Well, if we do the wagons at night, some of those silly templars might yell about there being dragons in the streets, that could demoralize the rest of the army, while boosting our own forces morale. A confident man is willing to charge more then one who has a weak spine." She says and as for exploding barrels. "Hmm, maybe some of the rooftop ambushers can make use of them? Light them and drop them on the enemy's patrols. Flash vials during a night atttack would also work, disorient them." She stands up and looks to Jarret. Placing a hand on his shoulder. "Remember when I said we would win this battle by demoralizing the enemy?" She says with a smile.
—
"There's only one Dragon we need in the street to demoralise the enemy." Wulfred intones merrily, offering a wink Jarret-wards, "I doubt she can get here in time though." Helena's ideas however, certainly warrant a firm nod from the old and scarred former hedge knight, "Sounds good to me, we've all bled here enough both in the past and the present… every day we hold out annoys the enemy, makes them more reckless. You know, have we ever besieged? Why are always /the/ besieged?"
—
Varian nods his head in Thomas's direction. "Certainly, if you think that is how best to use them. I've only brought some extra hands to assist, not to take over this siege. Rikton has yet to take the city, so I can only assume those already leading things are doing well enough. Though I am, of course, happy to assist where I can." The mention of demoralizing the enemy does give the viscount a bit of pause as he glances in Helena's direction thoughtfully albeit silently for a moment. He can think of a few methods of demoralizing the enemy, though he remains silent on the subject for the time being. "I'm afraid I'm somewhat uninformed about the battle lines, however. Who is leading the enemy?"
—
"We'll win by making them choke on their own blood." Thomas doesn't put down Helena's idea, however. "Until they don't think that they can take this city without losing an unacceptable amount of men. They've still got a campaign to run, outside of Goldhollow, but this is key terrain for them. However, it is vital ground for us - loss of Goldhollow would do enormous damage to our cause." He falls silent for a moment, and when he resumes speaking, his voice is quite a bit lower. "Rikton may yet decide to light this city on fire. We must be prepared for that, as well. We need to be digging our fortifications deeper. We need to be prepared for a concerted and indiscriminate bombardment."
At Helena and Wulfred's talk of dragons, Thomas motions to Varian. "We've got the only Dragon necessary. And since we'd like to bleed them, a Blood Dragon is rather appropriate. The enemy commander is Lord Captain Rollo Tusca, the commander of the Order Templar. His army is House Tusca troops, two hundred heavy Templars, most of whom we have not met in battle yet and thousands from other sources. At the outset, they were in surplus of 6,000 - over thrice our strength."
—
Jarret offers a brief grin to Helena as he hears that, nodding at her words. Then he hears Wulfred's words, and he's unable to hold back a chuckle. "That would terrify enemies and friends alike," he remarks, with a bit of a chuckle. As Thomas speaks about the enemy possibly deciding to light the city on fire, there's a brief moment of raised eyebrows. "I'd prefer us to be outside and them to be inside, if the city were to burn," he remarks.
—
Helena nods and smiles. "Well then Milords, shall we go and find a table to better discuss this stratagy?" She says with a smile as she picks up her helmet tucking it under her arm. "I could do with a goblet of wine anyway." She says giving a bow as she makes for the steps down.
—
"Fires will need to be dealt with all the same, citizenry can be rallied to ensure serviceable chains if need be." Wulfred offers as he steps away from the edge and moves back towards his belongings, slinging the old long cannon over his right shoulder and sheathing the axe at his hip, while also gathering that accursed lute and the bottle of amber colour liquid that had been left all forlorn and neglected beside it, "Right! Either way… I should go and make myself presentable, the Wife ensured that my old tabard and such was rolled up tight, and I'll see if I can catch up with a few of the men. I have to say there is no place I would rather be than with you lot and though that likely means I have suffered one too many blows to the head, I mean every last word!" The words offered with a stiff bow to all those present.
—
"Of course. We all would, Sir Jarret. And yet, we are called by her Majesty Queen Melisande to defend this city. If it burns, that does not mean that we need to burn with it, but nor does it obviate our need to continue to defend. If we defend a smoking ruin, the so bet it. I am charged by the Lord Marshal to ensure that Goldhollow holds." Thomas is firm about this. "So. We must conscript the citizens to improve our fortifications. I believe the White Haller Inga was a suitable taskmaster. At the same time, we can begin to cluster them in safer areas. Perhaps the Keep, although 10,000 citizens is almost certainly over capacity. I am considering evacuating them from the city, to be truthful. We can retain volunteers who wish to stay and help us fight fires." He trails off. His watery blue eyes grow steely and intense. "Or, we can ensure that the residents stay, and burn with their city. If this would happen, it would surely galvanise the Kingdom and all abroad against Rikton." He does not appear to like this.
—
"To the last breath and the last ball of shot!" Wulfred intones as he heads towards those accursed steps, "We'll figure something out, good Galenthians all if I recall." And down the steps he goes, not too slow, but taking his own sweet time about it. After all. There's no rush!
—
Nodding a little again as he listens, Jarret turns to move down the stairs as well. Expression thoughtful as he walks, leaning slightly against the poleaxe as he does.
—