Fable - Ask The 44th

[Arn]

Cortosi Boarder - Fort Etrich
Arn had never seen so many people in once place. At least he was pretty sure he hadn't.

Standing atop the hill above Fort Etrich really was a sight to see. Just two weeks ago the small alcove pressed against the Baara mountains had been an open plateau, filled with nothing but a few boulders. Now, standing on the cliff, Arn could not have counted the number of soldiers if he'd tried. There must have been ten, or perhaps twenty thousand Guardsmen below.

The Fort was arranged in perfect order. Rows and rows of tents following exacting columns. Larger canopies stretched in the distance serving as everything from mess-halls to officers quarters. It was something that he was sure nearly every Anirian saw at least once, but he had never quite expected it to be so...much. Thousands of men and women, ready to march.

Ready to go to war.

The thought put a pit into his stomach. "Quite a sight, eh?"

A familiar voice echoed out from behind him, Lieutenant Reeve. Arn, recently promoted to Sergeant, had been put underneath his Command. Reeve was a good man, though it hadn't taken long to learn he absolutely despised Dreadlords. Why that was Arn hadn't quite figured out, but his distaste was more than clear. Still, he seemed better than the last officer he'd and the others had, and Arn was thankful for that.

"106th, 23rd, and the 44th all in one place." Reeve said with a shake of his head. "The Red Robes really don't know what they messed with."

The Lieutenant continued. "But come on, can't spend all day staring. Bet you'll get made fun of less now that you've managed to catch some food."

"Doubt it, Sir." Arn replied almost immediately, not taking the time to think on his answer. The Lieutenant letting out a bark of a laugh as he shook his head and motioned for the farmboy to get going. Arn hefting the strange lizard that he had managed to catch near the River Baal just a second later. Slinging it back over his shoulder and beginning to tread down into the camp below.

Intent on making sure his squad had a good night.

 

[Felix Nevarre]

"Excuse me...Pardon me...Sorry."

Those and several more apologies sounded from Felix's lips as he was knocked through the crowd of guards bustling around to complete their own assignments. In Felix's hands were two heavy boxes of medical supplies for the 44th that he had to barter his way into getting. No matter how hard he tried, supply officers would always play favorites if he was not looking out.

As he made it back to the 44th's camp, he was greeted by the sounds of groaning. It was so loud that it was even drawing the attention of those walking by the camp.

Felix rolled his eyes as he dropped the boxes off by the medical tent before grabbing a puck of white bread and a mason jar of green liquid and making his way over to the groaning.

"Rambis, for the love of all, please shut up and just take this. You're not dying. You just don't have the patience to let food cook before trying to inhale it."

Felix did not wait for a reply as he turned back to go and break down the supplies. He and the other medics were to make a medical bag for each member of the 44th to have on them at all times. That was going to take most of the day...

The work never stopped.

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

She should be scared, gathering with others to share in their nerves for what was to come, but it felt as if any other day she had grown up in Vel Cirak. Werewolves liked to torment the fortress city in the Falwood, and she had grown up with the many drills and procedures to defend themselves against them.

Rhory had also taken part in many missions and deployments in her career with the 44th. With menial tasks and excursions into Cortosi lands to scout, she seemingly faced all that could go wrong with such risks taken... Her last scouting mission she was still recovering from.

Did she feel bad she had promised to visit the medics for them freshen her bandages at her neck? Not a lot to make her move towards the tent, but enough that she promised to buy Sky and Felix a drink when all of this was done.

"Oh! There you are! The—"

Rhory turned, lifting a brow. "I wasn't gone that long." She grumbled, knowing just who had wished to summon her. Rhory hadn't thought herself to be an artist, but her ability to keep maps clean and concise landed her a gig with the cartographers. She had just finished up updating maps when she had gone for her stroll, and now moved with a sigh back to the tent to collect the atlas to present to those that had asked for it.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

VEL NUMERA​

Mayor Arnold Caspian sat in utter surprise. Overwhelmed, even, by the most unexpected turn of events. He had received into his office what supposedly were mere envoys from House Banick. Despite their allegiance, and the attendant longstanding rivalry between House Banick and House Pirian, this wasn't business too extraordinary. He thought it likely to be nothing more than another deal securing foodstuffs for the Banicks, maybe some this-for-this thrown in.

Mayor Caspian hadn't expected the Lord Banick himself.

But the cloaked man who sat before his desk threw back his hood, and indeed it was that Garron Banick revealed himself.

"I hear you very much like being the Headman of Vel Numera, Arnold," said Garron with a voice like sweet poison. "The man in charge, when the Lord or Lady is away..." he mused, smiling.

"How...?"

Yet Arnold Caspian could not know that, indeed, there was a link between him and Garron: Duresh. For Mayor Caspian had shown his seditious desire to the half-orc, Garron's bastard son (one of many), and through a long and near inscrutable line of passing word did Arnold's ambitions come to Garron's attention. And, ever the quintessential Banick, Garron saw a deal to be made, one of mutual benefit.

* * * * *

CAMP OF THE 44TH​

Kristen Pirian had been called by the Guard into active service, and thus had she answered.

Blessed Aionus, what timing! She counted it fortunate indeed that the summons from the military had come when it did, lest she be abroad in Salesia or Sharyrdaes when it arrived—such would have made for an intolerable delay in her answer! Ever since walking through the Academy gates that final time she wondered when, or perhaps even if, she would be called to service from the Reserve. It certainly did happen much sooner than she in all her ruminations could have anticipated!

But she desired greatly to do her duty, and do it well. Foremost for her country, and secondarily so for her own pursuits. Mayhap she could earn Third Rank here in this campaign, casting off the unfair and ignoble rank of Fourth, which, in her case, she thought to be the product of foul political play by House Pirian's influential foes.

From the muster point in Vel Anir city had Kristen along with other troops been transported to the war camp near to Fort Etrich. All her gear she wore or carried on her back. She wore no livery of House Pirian. Indeed she looked very much the sight of a young Guardswomen freshly entered into military service, save of course for the expensive make of her armor.

Presently her instructions were to report to one Lieutenant Reeve, for she was to be attached to him and his men. A series of asked directions had pointed her, she hoped, in the right direction, and now she stood outside of a particular tent, expecting "at any minute" (so said one helpful Guardsman) for Reeve or one of his soldiers to return.

One, at least, seemed to be. And this, as yet unbeknownst to Kristen, would be Arnold Viretholm.

"Hello," she said to Arn when he came near. "Might you tell me—"

She noticed it then. The thing he was carrying. The strange lizard.

"Is that...what is that?"

Arn Felix Nevarre Rhory Grimmere

 

[Arn]

Arn smiled wide at the 'Guardswoman' in front of him, never thinking her to be a Dreadlord or the Lady of House Pirian herself. "It's a Grotrik!"

The Farmboy said as he slung the strange lizard from over his shoulder and held it up by the tail. It's six limbs flopping comically from side to side as he held it.

"They're pretty bitey." He admitted, having learned that lesson first hand when one of the damned things had latched onto his leg. It had hurt, but not too badly, though the damned thing hadnt wanted to let go for the life of it.

Rho had needed to cut off it's head in the end, and the whole thing ended with Felix stitching up his wounds while they all cooked the thing over a spit.

As it turned out, with a bit of salt it wasn't all that bad. Kind of tasted like Chicken. "But tasty! You're welcome to try some when we cook it up, ou-"

Before he could finish his invitation, Reeve stepped up behind him. "Sergeant. Whose this?"

The Lieutenant said, looking Kristen up and down as he searched for any sort of Insignia or rank.

 

[Felix Nevarre]

A cry of frustration came from the medical tent as Felix looked over the supplies now finally opening the boxes. One of the other medics jumped in surprise looking over at the suddenly annoyed young guard.

"What the hell is this? How are we supposed to make medical tents with this...It's just bandages."

That wasn't entirely true, there were some larger surgery tools with some chemicals that would be kept back in the tent, but the majority of the supply was bandages and a small amount of salves that at best would be split among maybe a dozen people at best.

"Ma'am, we need more than this...Can we send someone outside the camp...try to find whatever herbs we can find."

The idea, while good, was unlikely to bear fruit as it was likely that others had already had similar ideas.

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

Walking towards the tent that served as the Commander's Tent meant she was to walk past the medic area. Scrolls of parchment were rolled into their canisters, hanging from leather that rested on her shoulder as she tried to evade being seen. Rhory never had much luck on her side, and rounded a corner to find Felix Nevarre in the middle of demanding better quality supplies.

"Sorry." She grimaced, looking around as if she shouldn't even be here. "But while you're at it, you should be demanding the medic tents be a little more accessible than this deep into the camp." Rhory shrugged.

Her hair had been braided down her back, showing the still healing cuts on her cheeks, jawline, and neck. Beneath the bandages around her torso were deeper scratches, annoying enough that the still healing wounds were at an itching point in their recovery. She also could not retain full mobility in her arms and chest. The bruising had faded but still, it lingered like a phantom wound.

"Don't mind me..." Rhory muttered, trying to slip past quickly before Felix remembered her bandages hadn't been changed in some days.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Merry as could be, the Guardsman gave the name of the beast. Yet the name whisked right past Kristen's understanding, for she'd never heard of such a thing!

She smiled hesitantly, "'Bitey', you say..."

He went on to give another descriptor to the beast. Tasty. Tasty, of all things. Gosh, she...wasn't too sure of the adventurousness of her stomach. Might she hazard a try? Plenty of times had Kristen availed herself of an exotic dish or two at parties and galas in years bygone. How bad could it be? Why, it might even be good.

Yet another man would enter into the conversation, curtly inquiring of her.

Kristen answered him, and though she was a touch loath to say her surname, not wishing to make a point of her nobility, here she would have to. She said, "Lieutenant Kristen Pirian, Dreadlord of the Fourth Rank."

Though she wore no livery of House Pirian, indeed pinned to her cloak (though not prominently so) rested the insignia of the Dreadlords.

Arn Felix Nevarre Rhory Grimmere

 

[Arn]

"Oh shi-" Arn swore, cutting himself off and cursing the familiarity he'd taken with the gir-woman-Dreadlord standing in front of him. The Farmboy seemed to scramble somewhat, lowering the lizard in an instant and snapping his hand to a salute.

"Ma'am." A snicker echoed from Lieutenant Reeve behind him. "Sorry, about...err...Apologies, Ma'am."

The Guardsmen said, knowing that he'd just about broken every rule of rank and etiquette that existed. In the military. He was a Sergeant still after all, and rank discipline was just about the most important thing in the Guard. Not to mention he hadn't even realized what the name Pirian meant. Never thinking this could be one of The Pirians.

"Calm down, Arn." Reeve said gruffly.

"Just another Bloody Dreadlord." The Lieutenant said. "Not like we ain't got plenty of em around already."

It was clear that the man wouldn't bother hiding his disdain despite Kristen's rank and title. Whether he realized who she was or not. After all, in the Republic, they were all equal. "You're with us."

He said, and motioned for Kristen to fall in line. She might have held equal rank, but his Company was his. First Lieutenant still meant something. At least in Reeve's eyes. He would never let another Dreadlord push him around. "Come on. Before I leave you both behind."

The Lieutenant said, trudging back through the camp. Leaving Kristen and Arn standing together.

 

[Felix Nevarre]

Before Felix returned back to his complaints, he pointed a rueful finger toward Rhory before she vanished. The normally upbeat young man looked tired, ragged, and therefore annoyed.

"Don't you even think about it? Sit down, Rhory. It will literally only take a few minutes to change your bandages. Don't you want to be 100%?"

Rhory's suggestion wasn't actually the first time they had heard that, but from Felix's understanding, the higher ups had explained to them that the medical tent needed to be deep to avoid getting attacked during raids and battles.

But in Felix's opinion, if this fort was getting raided right before this large ass army was preparing to invade then they were probably already in a mess of trouble to begin with.

Completely forgetting about his complaining, Felix had marched over to one of the medical tables, putting all of his focus now on Rhory and her wounds. He pointed to the seat telling her to sit.

"Have you seen Arn? Said he was bringing back some food for dinner."

Rhory Grimmere

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

"I have to go to..." but the words died on her lips. Early, on time, or late, it didn't change the Tactician's view of her getting the maps and atlases to him. It wasn't even a job Rhory had wanted in the first place, that despite all the effort she put into a promotion, none came her way.

Defeated, and more than just listening to Felix, Rhory took a seat and the canisters' straps fell from her slumped shoulders.

"Arn is..." She had seen him, but that had been hours ago, much earlier than dinner time. "Oh, let's be honest. If he said he was bringing back food, he probably is finding something to feed that... reptile of his." The face their friend had given Rhory when she suggested he give it to the cooks to prepare, and the mere memory of hit had her eyes rolling once again. Much like the reaction she had when Arn had defended, "It looked at me with 'help me' eyes!"

Rhory carefully undid her jacket, wincing as a particular stretch hurt more than it had in a while. She cursed it, hoping Felix didn't see her reaction and happily declare her fit for service.

Felix Nevarre

 

[Kristen Pirian]

And the reaction from Arn was what Kristen had wanted to avoid. Perhaps it could not be helped—her name might very well have come out in time in any case. So be it. Let humility reign, whether her family name was known or not.

Lieutenant Reeve, quite different from Arn, was less flabbergasted. Not so fond was he of the name of Pirian, of nobility in general, or mayhap exactly as he said: just another bloody Dreadlord.

With a quick glance to Arn, Kristen made to follow the Lieutenant after he beckoned.

"I am to be attached to your unit for the duration, Lieutenant," Kristen explained as they walked. "Your orders are mine to follow."

Arn Felix Nevarre Rhory Grimmere

 

[Arn]

Arn grimaced slightly, wishing that his Lieutenant had more than a bit of decorum.

He understood, in theory, why the man hated the mages of Vel Anir. Many of the stories he'd heard from his fellow soldiers hadn't exactly been...pleasant, but that didn't mean that every Dreadlord was a wanton murdering massacrist.

At least Arn hoped not, otherwise he would have to ask Rhidian some very hard questions next time he saw him.

Quickly catching up to Kristen and the Lieutenant, Arn managed to hear the tail end of Reeve's last comment. "I know. You'll be billeted with Arn and his Squad while you're with us, they'll at least tolerate you."

Arn flashed Kristen a smile, leaning in towards her to whisper.

"Don't worry, Ma'am." He said, unable to keep the respect from his tone. "We'll get you sorted quick. Rho and Felix should be back at Camp. They're nice."

He didn't mention some of the others who were not so nice. "Arn. Take care of it."

"Yes, Sir." The Guardsmen with a quick salute, still holding the dead grotrick in his other hand as the Lieutenent banked off and headed left towards the Officer's mess. "Come on."

Arn said to Kristen. "We're over here."

He gestured quickly towards the left, closer to the Medic tent but still set apart. The small section set out for the 107th Company where Arn and his squad fell under. Elise, the pet Grotrik he had captured just a week prior patiently waiting for them in his bedroll.

 

[Felix Nevarre]

Felix seemed to ignore the curse as he continued checking up on her, a small smile gracing his face at her mention of Arn's new pet. "Well, I hope not. I'm tired of eating gruel and that reptile looks tastier and tastier every day."

It had been a shock when Arn returned with the creature, but it was slowly beginning to grow on Felix, so as long as the thing did not cause any trouble for them then he would not complain.

Felix's cursory inspection was nearing its end and it looked like he was just going to put on some new bandages and call it a day, until his very last request.

He moved Rhory right back into the very stretching position she had cursed from and asked her to hold that form to see her reaction. The young medic held no joy in his eyes at having to do this, but he needed to confirm his suspicions about what was recovering slower than others.

"You're a horrible liar."

Rhory Grimmere

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

"Oh, I know. You're just smarter than Arn and Owain put together." She grumbled, grimaced, and slowly peeled off her shirt so that Felix could see the other bandages beneath the binding around her chest. The deep scratches were healing, but still delicate enough that it gave her grief. "Those sweet boys..." But Rhory didn't feel bad for lying to them easily. Owain deserved it more since his own extravagant lies were used to make him look better than all. Arn... the large young man would probably not leave her alone if he knew she was still hurting from her injuries.

It was the healers Rhory couldn't fool.

"This one hurts the most. You don't think it's poison, do you?" She placed a hand over the larger bandage around her stomach. Whatever that Cortosi creaature was that had gotten her good, no one could be sure if there was something poisonous about it... Rhory didn't meet Felix's eyes either, knowing her nonchalance at her wounds would mean nothing to him. "You know, sometimes I wish that Dreadlord Healer was here so that she can fix everything in one go and I can go out onto the field. No offense to you, of course Felix." She added quickly.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

A man as grim and stern as they came, Reeve. Word of Kristen's orders flew more swiftly than did her own travel, so at least she need not endure a slew of questions tinged with latent hostility from the man. But little did Reeve's distaste of her matter, for it was the will of the Guard that she be here, and both she and Reeve had their duty.

Arn was personable, however, and this was the balm to the rash Reeve's demeanor had left.

He gestured off to the left, toward where the aforementioned Rho and Felix, and presumably the whole lot of the 107th Company, dwelled. Kristen would walk beside him. A marvel, really, that Arn had developed any sense of direction at all in this massive encampment, where seemingly all the tents bore a likeness to the others and the paths all had in common the well-trodden dirt of a thousand boots, altogether a singular repeating image made of many blurred together as it might be in a dream.

"Tell me, sergeant: is the good Lieutenant always so charitable to fresh faces?" Kristen asked as they went.

Arn Felix Nevarre Rhory Grimmere

 

[Arn]

Internally, at least he hoped it was internally, Arn cringed. He never did like talking about his Officer’s when they weren't around. Always feeling like their sense of hearing extended half a mile further than his own.

Least thats what it seemed like. ”Err…no.”

He admitted with some trepidation. It wasn't like Reeve was a bad guy or anything. In fact, the man had welcomed Arn and the others with open arms. Despite the few…mess ups they'd had, the Lieutenant had been more than glad to take them under the 107th and teach them the finer points of soldiering.

”He's had some…bad luck with Dreadlords, Ma'am.” Briefly Arn wondered how much the other side felt that divide. The Republic had tried bridging it of course, and some like Rhidian embraced that role. Others, not so much. ”Think it's more that that puts him off if I'm to be honest.”

Arn was never anything but honest. ”But don't worry, we don't all feel that way!”

The young soldier declared with a smile, finally cutting towards the small alcove that belonged to him and the others. A gleeful smile pulling on his lips as the squads four tents presented themselves.

”Here we are, home sweet home.” For another few days at least. ”There's an empty bedroll over there, and a bit of space by the fire if you brought you own.”

Arn gestured.

 

[Felix Nevarre]

"I'm glad someone finally noticed." Felix laughed at Rhory's comment while he continued to look over the remainder of her wounds. He quickly moved to inspect the wound Rhory pointed out to him. His face scrunched up in thought as his mind ran through all of his lessons with his father and the Guards' mentors.

The skin was blue and black around the wound, likely bruising. As long as there were no stranger colors then that was ok. Next, there was slight swelling and inflammation as is normal with healing wounds, but the salves they had given Rhory were doing their job. Finally, the smell was of iron and blood and showed no sign of rot.

Designation, was unlikely to be poison, although Felix would be sure to check through the tomes the next time he had the chance.

"I don't see any signs of poison, but I'll sneak you some medicinal teas that might help with the pain and stiffness."

He moved to continue his inspection, and he paused for the slightest of moments when Rhory mentioned her wish.

"Oh, no offense taken. Just ignore all my hard work and let's replace it with a magical wave of our hands. That would make everything better."

Was that bandage a little tighter?

Rhory Grimmere

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

"If you had the magical touch and got me on the front lines, I could kiss you." She answered back, heavily with the sarcasm and snark. "Bu this wound is not healing."

Rhory was impatient. It was the deepest wound she suffered out of the other scrapes and scratches, and had ripped into muscle. Felix didn't deserve her nastiness, nor did he deserve her ungratefulness. With a sigh, she hung her head and chewed at her lip. "Sorry, Felix." It wasn't a pleasant feeling to know that she would have to sit out on this, despite being here at the camp, so close and ready to fight alongside the friends she had made. "Guess the pain is making me moody." She grumbled uselessly.

Once he secured a new, fresh bandage on her, she began to shrug back on her shirt and then her jacket. "I should get these maps to the Commander's Tent. Want to come along and see if we find Arn on the way?"

Felix Nevarre

 

[Kristen Pirian]

He's had some…bad luck with Dreadlords, Ma'am.

Kristen's mouth pressed into a line of understanding; truly, she could not fault Reeve for that. She need only imagine the likes of Bull to know that "bad luck" was most certainly possible. And, gods! To know that she herself still shared the title of Dreadlord with Bull and all others of his ilk! It could not be soon enough when at last the Republic's reforms stamped out the horrors of old for good.

"Home sweet home," Kristen echoed when Arn introduced her to what would be her quarters in this interim time. She went forward and set her pack down by the empty space near the fire.

Now, she knew that Arn was intent on cooking the six-limbed lizard he had found, and she knew also that she had some lingering reservations about trying this war camp cuisine. So she endeavored, lightly enough, to delay it, saying:

"Might we go and find the others of your squad, Arn? I should like to meet them."

They would be shedding the blood of the enemy together, looking out for one another. As it stood there would be the awkwardness of being inserted—via assignment or not—into a group of Guardsmen already familiar with one another; best that this thin wall of ice be cast down as soon as possible.

Arn Felix Nevarre Rhory Grimmere

 

[Arn]

Arn was busy fussing over Elise. Patting the smaller grotrik on the head even as he held her much larger cousin. The Lizard let out what seemed to be something between a purr and a growl, though the farmer seemed only to hear the former.

"Oh, sure." The Guardsmen said as he shifted and gently tucked Elise back into his bedroll.

"I think Rho's been running messages." Least that was what she had said before he'd left for patrol. "Felix will be in the med tent, so maybe better to start there."

As he began to stand up, Elise snapped at the other grotrik, biting it's legs and suddenly rolling as it tore off a chunk of the meat. A little bit of blood splattering on Arn's blanks. "Oh come on! I just washed that."

The Guardsmen said, dismayed. Head tipping to the sky as he turned and called to one of the other nearby guardsmen.

"Hawk! Cook this will, ya? We're gonna find Felix and Rho." The other man had already been laughing at Arn's misfortunes, answering in the affirmative with an unintelligible south Anirian accent.

Shaking his head, the farmboy scrambled up and motioned for Kristen to follow him once more.

"So, Ma'am." He continued with the formalities. "Where are ya from?"

Still not having made the connection.