Private Tales Regulators Under Fire

[Praetor Leah Kadashal]

THE OLD FORT
TERRITORY OF OMMA​

The troop of Regulators from Gild found themselves under siege.

Campania, the Bloody Crescent, was a region of warring neighbors. Yet it was not uncommon at all for these feuding states, sometimes even in the midst of war, to request the specialities—services and goods—of their fellow states. And Gild was renowned throughout Campania for having the best forces for dealing with magic gone awry, be that in the form of a fiend, a traitor, a curse, or anything which wickedness could conceive.

So it had been with Omma, the Iron Aristocracy. Or, more precisely, a particular town in Ommite lands. The local Headman of the town of Ereshun, unable to find help from the Aristocracy of his own land, reached out to the Church of Jura and the Regulators of Gild. He feared that Fae creatures were abducting or killing men who ventured into the deep woods north of the town.

And so a dozen Regulators, led by the Praetor Boesarius Terral, departed from Gild to answer the plight of Ereshun. But trouble would find them.

An Ommite patrol, ignorant to the reason of the Regulators' presence in the land of Omma and unwilling to listen, attacked them. Arrows flew from the Ommites, bolts from the Regulators. Men fell. A fighting retreat ensued, with the Regulators, largely outnumbered, on the run. The Gildans came to an old Ommite fort, a small garrison meant only as a base of operations rather than as a formidable stronghold, with crumbled walls and damaged towers of stone and wood.

And it was in this fort that the Regulators took cover, and prepared to make their stand.

* * * * *​

Leah Kadashal hid low behind a battlement atop one of the towers, her back pressed to the stones. She worked at reloading her crossbow.

She feared nothing at all. Even in the night's gloom, with the stars and the moons shining silver on the old fort and the landscape thereabouts, with the Ommites down below outnumbering them some three to one, she feared nothing. For this was meant to happen. This was meant to be. And she was happy! She rejoiced! For Regel had delivered upon his promise, that very promise he had made to her so long ago when her life had been saved.

For it was but her and Avric Warstromal, alone atop this one tower. They had gotten separated in the fighting from the rest of their Regulator kin, who all held strong in the fort's other standing tower nearby. A standoff had ensued.

(this is fated)

Down below, in the murk of the fort's ruin, Ommites shouted taunts and threats to the Regulators: "Gildan scum! Throw down your weapons!"

"Surrender to the authority of the Iron Aristocracy! And you will live!"

One of the Regulators from the other tower yelled profanity back at the Ommites.

"Avric," said Leah, her voice calm, almost serene, despite the circumstances, "do you think these Ommites know? That they were born merely to die at our hands?"

Avric Warstromal

 

[Avric Warstromal]

THE OLD FORT
TERRITORY OF OMMA​

The troop of Regulators from Gild found themselves under siege.

Campania, the Bloody Crescent, was a region of warring neighbors. Yet it was not uncommon at all for these feuding states, sometimes even in the midst of war, to request the specialities—services and goods—of their fellow states. And Gild was renowned throughout Campania for having the best forces for dealing with magic gone awry, be that in the form of a fiend, a traitor, a curse, or anything which wickedness could conceive.

So it had been with Omma, the Iron Aristocracy. Or, more precisely, a particular town in Ommite lands. The local Headman of the town of Ereshun, unable to find help from the Aristocracy of his own land, reached out to the Church of Jura and the Regulators of Gild. He feared that Fae creatures were abducting or killing men who ventured into the deep woods north of the town.

And so a dozen Regulators, led by the Praetor Boesarius Terral, departed from Gild to answer the plight of Ereshun. But trouble would find them.

An Ommite patrol, ignorant to the reason of the Regulators' presence in the land of Omma and unwilling to listen, attacked them. Arrows flew from the Ommites, bolts from the Regulators. Men fell. A fighting retreat ensued, with the Regulators, largely outnumbered, on the run. The Gildans came to an old Ommite fort, a small garrison meant only as a base of operations rather than as a formidable stronghold, with crumbled walls and damaged towers of stone and wood.

And it was in this fort that the Regulators took cover, and prepared to make their stand.

* * * * *​

Leah Kadashal hid low behind a battlement atop one of the towers, her back pressed to the stones. She worked at reloading her crossbow.

She feared nothing at all. Even in the night's gloom, with the stars and the moons shining silver on the old fort and the landscape thereabouts, with the Ommites down below outnumbering them some three to one, she feared nothing. For this was meant to happen. This was meant to be. And she was happy! She rejoiced! For Regel had delivered upon his promise, that very promise he had made to her so long ago when her life had been saved.

For it was but her and Avric Warstromal, alone atop this one tower. They had gotten separated in the fighting from the rest of their Regulator kin, who all held strong in the fort's other standing tower nearby. A standoff had ensued.

(this is fated)

Down below, in the murk of the fort's ruin, Ommites shouted taunts and threats to the Regulators: "Gildan scum! Throw down your weapons!"

"Surrender to the authority of the Iron Aristocracy! And you will live!"

One of the Regulators from the other tower yelled profanity back at the Ommites.

Quite the predicament. Ever since they first exchanged words with the Ommite patrol Avric thought it was such a shame that they could not be made to see reason.
If Preator Terral was allowed to get close enough Avric was sure he could have presented the orders they received and proof of the request for aid, and all of this would be avoided.

Alas, the Ommites proved unreasonable and foolish and ultimately Preator Terral made the correct decision and ordered a tactical retreat.
Outnumbered and without a homefield advantage they were forced to give ground quickly, putting up a token defense to screen their flank.

Avric knew this was the best decision to make for this situation, but the whole thing still left a bad taste in his mouth. His own crossbow pierced the breastplates of several Ommite soldiers in their hasty retreat, men who, if asked, were likely not apostate heretics but mere soldiers following orders.
With every shot Avric sent a prayer with it, for Regal to guide and protect the believing soul.

Finding the abandoned fortress was surely a blessing from Regal to protect his faithful, it was far better than ducking between trees and hoping an arrow didn't find you.
Once they secured the fortress the Preators and Regulators took to the walls to defend it, aiming their crossbows over the battlements and taking shots at whatever enemy showed themselves from the trees.

They were able to hold this position for some time, but it was only for a time.
It didn't take long for the Ommites to fell trees and make battering rams to assault the gates and prepare ladders to scale the walls.
The fighting became bloody and earnest as the defenders endured assault after assault, their numbers thinning with each attack.

Avric had joined a squad to defend a certain tower, it was positioned to be a threat to enemies approaching the gate and they were able to defend it quite well.
But now, after enduring several volleys of arrows, it was only him and one other regulator who took cover behind the battlements beside him.
She reloaded her crossbow while Avric worked to replace the cord on his, taking one from the dropped weapon of their comrade and using his feet to bend the bow and restring it.

"Avric," said Leah, her voice calm, almost serene, despite the circumstances, "do you think these Ommites know? That they were born merely to die at our hands?"

Avric glanced up from his work to look at her.
From what he could tell in the little time he's spent with her, nothing ever got to her. She seemed invincible to fear or despair and approached this situation with a strange calmness.
While Avric wasn't so immune to the tension of the moment, he also was not worried. As a faithful of Regal he was sure that she still had use for him and that this was not to be his end... But he was also aware that he didn't know the mind of god, and that this could be the end for him.
While death held some fear for him, he was alright with it if Regal called him home this day.

He quirked his lips in a smirk.
"Your faith is inspiring, sister. If they were aware of whatever Regal has in store for them, I doubt they would have opposed us in the first place!"
He finished restringing his crossbow and slid a bolt into place with a muttered prayer.
"... All the same, I hope they see reason before the night is through. Regal may be with us, but his will is not necessarily our own."

 

[Praetor Leah Kadashal]

"Yes," Leah said in loving fashion, "his will is much greater than ours alone, and even these godless Ommites are encompassed by it."

Such was the untarnished truth in Leah's view, that the scope of Regel's Right Ordering reached over the whole of the world, and that nothing acted or moved contrary to his design. And why here, now, trapped as she was atop this dilapidated tower with but Avric alone, Leah felt so elevated in spirit. All might be fated, but time had to run its course. And now she was here!

Shouts from the other standing tower of the crumbling fort, as Regulators hurled righteous anger down at the Ommites:

"You fools! You were the ones who called us here!"

"Talk is better than death, Ommites!"

And further abuse from the Ommites, lurking below, whether in the ruins of the old fort's buildings or further back from the fort's wretched walls:

"The authority of the Iron Aristocracy is supreme!"

"You will be tried for your trespassing! Are you not just? Give in to the law of our land!"

Leah now had her crossbow primed.

"If any make it to the door of our tower," she said, "we will be inconvenienced."

Inconvenienced. Though Leah had put it lightly, as was often her way, truly it would be a problem, and especially so if the Ommites discovered that only two Regulators held this tower rather than the ten who held the other. But the door had been shored up with what barricade they were able to swiftly assemble—far from perfect, but they had been in a hurry. And, as a last resort, the spiral staircase leading up to the rooftop they occupied now would prove defensible.

Avric Warstromal

 

[Avric Warstromal]

"Yes," Leah said in loving fashion, "his will is much greater than ours alone, and even these godless Ommites are encompassed by it."

Such was the untarnished truth in Leah's view, that the scope of Regel's Right Ordering reached over the whole of the world, and that nothing acted or moved contrary to his design. And why here, now, trapped as she was atop this dilapidated tower with but Avric alone, Leah felt so elevated in spirit. All might be fated, but time had to run its course. And now she was here!

Avric nodded in agreement as he checked his quiver and counted his remaining bolts. There were other quivers strewn around them that they could now avail themselves of, but with just the two of them their rate of fire would hardly be substantial and that would give them away.

Shouts from the other standing tower of the crumbling fort, as Regulators hurled righteous anger down at the Ommites:

"You fools! You were the ones who called us here!"

"Talk is better than death, Ommites!"

And further abuse from the Ommites, lurking below, whether in the ruins of the old fort's buildings or further back from the fort's wretched walls:

"The authority of the Iron Aristocracy is supreme!"

"You will be tried for your trespassing! Are you not just? Give in to the law of our land!"

Judging by the back and forth... Their surrender or death was the only way out of this.
However, Avric doubted their surrender would be any different than an execution.

He was the ranking officer of the two of them. So, it was on him to find a way to keep them alive.
With that in mind he shored up his resolve and set his mind to finding another solution.

Leah now had her crossbow primed.

"If any make it to the door of our tower," she said, "we will be inconvenienced."

Inconvenienced. Though Leah had put it lightly, as was often her way, truly it would be a problem, and especially so if the Ommites discovered that only two Regulators held this tower rather than the ten who held the other. But the door had been shored up with what barricade they were able to swiftly assemble—far from perfect, but they had been in a hurry. And, as a last resort, the spiral staircase leading up to the rooftop they occupied now would prove defensible.

Avric nodded again, stoically.
An arrow struck the stone above his head with a crack and sent a spray of rock over him, he immediately responded by swinging his crossbow over the battlements, taking instant aim back along the trajectory of the arrow, fired off a bolt, and got back down before he could see if he hit or not.
The enemy answered with another volley of arrows at their position.

"There's precious little stopping them from reaching our door. Once they break it down, we'll have to take the battle to the stairs. We're trapped here, and I don't like it. The stone is better protection than the trees or the spaces between the buildings here, but our mobility is restricted."

Avric removed his hat and ran his gloved hand through his hair in frustration.
"This isn't how we fight... We need to be ghosts; we need to be able to disappear..."
Replacing his hat he reloaded his crossbow, glaring at a dead Regulator at his feet as he thought furiously.
"This tower is a deathtrap, we can't stay."

He looked back at Leah.
She was younger than him, and he couldn't help but feel like he'd seen her before... Perhaps... But she was a faithful of Regal and loyal to the church of Jura. She showed no fear at any point in this encounter, by this he knew she was reliable.
"I will accept your input, but here's my plan thus far; We will use grappling hooks to scale this tower and take refuge in the shadows of the ruins below. Perhaps they will think we've perished among our brethren, but it will not matter if they figure it out.
The two of us must then escape the battle, find the Ommite commander unseen and on our own, and force him to negotiate."