- Messages
- 14
- Character Biography
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The populace of the small town were on hard times. The landscape showing signs of work atop some sort of event that had torn the very earth from its resting place. Eamon had reached the town to rest. Speaking only when asked as he examined the area by a passing man.
All were wary of him, eyes hardened as if freshly pulled from beneath the mountains that they were so near.
Only the eldest held the look of water worn stones at his approach. Weary in both body and soul as they explained their woes to the stranger sharing a seat and time with them. From some unknown tragedy that had disrupted a great deal of their livelihood, only spoken of in broad and vague words that gave him little besides the side effects, to the most recent event of note within the area. An unknown noble having moved in to the least damaged structure able to support them.
Along with the small band of soldiers they had brought with them. Promises of aid in both building and supplies had bent their ear to the man who'd arrived with warm smiles and an easy air.
Now soured by a lengthy inaction to deliver those promises after receiving his welcome.
What few wares the folk had before given to the noble barely supported those remaining. And further tithes would put them to an early grave without help. Eamon having arrived before the runner to the Knights of Anathaeum had returned from his errand, seeking their aid in the matter. He mulled on their words, the state of their settlement, and pondered the price he would have them pay.
"Any fealty to this... Noble?" His words carrying the inflection of distaste to the elders within the echoing rasp from behind the visor. A vehement shake of their heads gave him the final answer they had been making clear to him since the mention of the man. The metal plates across his hands ground and gave tinny pops as his fingers steeped together, and the steel covering his elbows dug into the table.
Leaning forward to ask his final set of questions before figuring his price.
"Gone... or gone?" The question plain enough to make the trio look between themselves and speak. Playing ignorant to their words as each stress and sharp rasp of the words bounced around the protective shell encasing his head. A final furtive glance to Eamon had them all in agreement.
"Gone."
Leather groaned, and metal ground as he shifted in his seat. The barely present smile hidden behind the shadow of his visor as he rested an arm across the table and gave a slow measuring look between them. To demand much beyond their means would be folly. Aside from perhaps a roof and food, they likely had little else to offer besides their time. When his gaze finally broke away from taking stock of them once more, his fingers tapped against the tabletop.
Ridding them of the Noble however would provide them the means to properly employ his services however.
"A roof, bed, and share your meals. The Nobles spoils will be divided between us. You take nothing with heraldry." An objecting squawk began from the eldest man that was sharply put to silence with a sharp look from the eldest woman between the two others.
"A fair divide of spoils for ridding us of the pox?"
The visor shifted once more to the woman that had guided their concerns with a wisened hand. A crafty woman that wore her age as a badge of honor despite being only what he could guess as fifty years upon her.
"As fair as the flame takes the dry plains." Making no promise of fairness before the deed was done. Another silence followed at the ultimatum. Would they trade one trouble for a potential other? They spoke at length between themselves, hushed tones attempting to conceal their discussion to no avail. Eamon kept that barely there smile alight on each warning and skeptical criticism between themselves that they aimed at him. A sudden hush bringing his eyes from the idle stare they had held on the table to their forms before the eldest woman spoke.
"We have decided."
-Late Morning-
Eamon's arrival into the settlement had been noticed. A total of some twenty souls owed fealty to the Noble that had arrived to likely claim some form of ownership of the ruined place.
By right or might, and ever more leaning towards might given the well armed state of his retinue. All wearing at least half plate and bearing some form of shield. From simple, smaller domed bucklers to heater shields, and even one leaning against what may as well have been a door without the hinges. Most wielding swords, while a sparce few carried blunt objects. Smaller warhammers, with pointed faces to pierce no doubt.
The clack and rippling of his plate and mail announcing himself over the two escorts that saw him up the main way of the town.
Once proper and likely alive with the sounds of daily life the town had once been filled with. The stalls barren and decrepit now by either time or effect of that unknown scourge. Cleaned of anything that might have been valuable in some way as the retinue of soldiers leveled their gaze with his form. They'd stripped him of weapons, the one to his left carrying the bundle of steel and wood to their destination as they walked towards a growing building.
It bore hasty repairs, and more than one window was simply boarded up rather than any attempt to fix what was likely old glass behind it.
The building the Noble had claimed a partial three story building of wood and stone, with the roof in the midst of some kind of repair or simple bolstering to keep it from caving in further. What had been perhaps the town square spreading out and around the building to several other buildings in far better state than the surrounding area, each with at least a set of eyes from the retinue watching his arrival.
A final count leading him to the higher end of twenty as they walked along towards the entryway of the first floor. His hesitation to enter as he looked up and around met with a shove from the free handed soldier.
"Inside."
The door opened to the sight of another soldier in finer gear that gleamed with a muted silver tone in the morning light. An embroidered tabard bearing a boars head covered the solid plate beneath it as the one carrying his gear entered first. Stepping around those at the table and depositing his blades there before Eamon was guided inside and up the stairs.
Four souls sat around a square table, flanked by the one at the door and table as the planks leading upward groaned beneath the combined weight of those ascending.
A small walk down the hallway with adjoining doors led them into a makeshift meeting room. Occupied by a smug and portly man that seemed fixated with the appearance of his facial hair in a tiny mirror affixed to the wall.
"I've been told you were asked by the lesser folk to help them?" Humor plain in the man's tone as Eamon stared through the threshold, taking in the sights of the room. The lingering silence forcing the man to break his attention from the ridiculous mustache to address the man.
"Well? Come in. I'm sure we can reach a better arrangement than that mangy bunch." His steps light and near giddy as he moved to a table and sat behind it. Gesturing to the chair there as Eamon crossed into the room. The soldier behind him shutting the door to those below as the sounds of jeering laughter filtered up from the floor below.
