[North-south road] Guard duty

[Eyvind Redbeard]

4th Brightening of the First Cycle of the Month of Immanis in the season of Winter; Era I of the Celestine Mandate, Era XV Post Fractum.

A cold breeze made the dark cloaks of the Legionnaires standing on the hill near the road swing in the winter's air. Their hands held their spears with strength and their heads were covered with Corynthian helmets that hide their faces for all those not standing in front of them. Their armors were covered in furs and their boots were reinforced to withstand the harshness of the Sherian winter. Unlike most of the province the region near the mountains and around Draelmar Hold hadn't been affected by the Scorch of Sheria and therefore here the trees and the hills still remained as green as winter allowed them to be.

At the hill's feet there was a road, a once amazing Imperial Road with made with the best marble stone from the far island of Ieffreon. Now it rested in almost ruin, forgotten and never repaired. Era after Era the road kept a steady flux of merchants and travelers from northern Sheria and Vers to the central and southern reaches of the province, this was the north-south road.

In the distance a lonely figure appeared walking side by side with an equine one. As it got closer to the position where the Legionnaires stood it was visible that it was some sort of merchant with his cargo donkey. Pots and fryer pans and carpets lay on the animal's back and the man looked tired. And why not? He seemed to come from Auster, a place where the Black Shields had yet to secure, and he had walked right through the Sherian Wasteland.

It seemed like a normal Brightening, no dangers in sight and therefore only the group instead of being a Domanus lead by a Daekin, was just a simple Manus of ten Legionnaires, their Shield Daekin and, for the change, a Cencoris. The Cencoris was no other than Eyvind Redbeard himself, the leader of the elite Black Shields. Knocking the frozen ground with his spear he wordlessly ordered the group to head down the hill, leaving only two men atop to watch for any eventualities. At first the traveller seemed scared with the appearance of group of men but once he recognized their armors as being member of the Imperial Army he kept walking with his donkey at his side.

It was a normal winter Brightening in which they guarded the road and received a little tax for all safe passages.

[Trinity]

oocSince this thread is separate from Eyvind's rebellion against the Second Kingdom and Firebird gave me permission to pick up a few threads for him, here I am! Sorry I took a bit, Eyvind. I didn't realize this wasn't tied to the ones I was trying to get permission to do :P

To say that he was tired was an understatement. As the merchant approached the legionnaires, the way he carried his body showed utter exhaustion and reflected the broken hearted spirit the man now possessed. The travel from Auster had proved a bit uneventful, though in the wake of the destruction provided by the last large conflict in the Province, who could fathom it would be? The road upon which this particular merchant was walking neared the destruction of the once sentinel of the sea, the beauty, Narim. He could almost see the remnants smoldering in the distance, though the fires had long since been put out and the occasional mist that appeared over the wake of where the tortured souls of the Duchy of Phondra and the Kingdom of Daittern's children once resided was from the crash of the seas against the docks, which still stood in a tattered reminder of the glory it once bore.

His companion, a slightly underweight but healthy horse, hung it's head low as the burden on his back as the two traveled up the North-South road, nearing the hills that Eyvind and his Black Shields had come down from. The merchant's eyes, up until that point, had been downcast - but the beating of hooves caused him to be sent into a heightened alert. Pausing in the road and looking upon the Legionnaires before him, the man's face mingled an emotion that was commonplace in the Sheria these cycles - fear, anger, and hostility. His horse paused at his side in disinterest and confusion, only following the lead of his master. He was nearing Orkcon, as those dark skinned rejects had called it. Ire, as it was known by the province. The chief problem with North-South road was that it passed entirely too close to the Orckon Forest, and consequently, Ire itself. The war was over, but the man had been a traveling merchant, whose home was Narim. He was out of the province when the war broke out, and hadn't returned when he heard of the attacks that had begun with the disappearance of Michum du'Galle.

Gripping the leather that tethered the horse to his hand a little tighter, the man raised his free fist in the air at Eyvind. The frustration the man felt was reflected in his voice. "Come then, you heathens! Come and finish what you started! You burned the Sea-side Sentinel, you demolished their navy, their forces, their hearts! You missed one, you blidge rats! Cowards! Dogs!" As Eyvind neared, he realized that none of the horse-back men were actually Orcs, and felt a little foolish hollering at them like they were. Hanging his head, the man let out a low sigh and avoided eye contact with the Cencoris. "My apologies, sirs. You must understand; with Ire being up ahead, I figured the Orcs were once more mobile again. It is difficult to feel safe in a province where your home was abandoned by it's government and remains in a simmer of destruction, a glaring reminder by which you must pass for each trade of your friends, your family, your history. Burned and stomped out by the disgusting mangled feet of Ire's tattered boots."

It took him a lot of courage to look up, very very far up, past Eyvind's steed and to the man's helmet-covered face, but finally, the man did. His eyes were sunken in his skull and he was tired, extremely tired. The horse shifted on his hooves behind them and snorted loudly, flicking it's tail around at the occasional fly that had accompanied them through the wastes. He could tell Eyvind was not a Pirate nor Bandit, and that he would inflict no harm upon the man and his feeble horse... nor take their wares. But he didn't know what to say. Shifting aimlessly from one foot to the other to redistribute his malnourished weight, the merchant gazed at the Legionnaires and their chief in the long silence, awaiting some sort of greeting or explanation as to why Eyvind and his men were currently in the middle of his way.

[Eyvind Redbeard]

As the riders slowly descended from the hill where they had been guarding the road they couldn't miss the shouting and fist waving of the merchant. Looking at each other and behind slightly confused to see who he was yelling at only proved useless. There was no Orc in sight so...the merchant was talking to them. Did they look that ugly? Or was it the time spent near Ire that had left a smell on them? Mayhaps, their leader would decide. The massive Redbeard rode ahead of them all, a hand raised and the palm turned to the little man in a sign of greeting. The man's confusion was completely understandable even more now after his sharp words. A Narimnite, a survivor, a lonely man. The Vagaran could share many feelings with him, he too had heard the tales of his once proud people being defeated by the Ancient Aelyrians' guile and cunning plans.

"Calm down, calm down. We mean you no harm. I can understand your concerns but as you can see not everyone shares the government opinions, otherwise we wouldn't be here. I am Eyvind Redbeard Avornmagor Björnsson, Cencoris of the Black Shields and Acting Provost of the Ninth Imperial Legion. We have moved to Draelmar Hold, some miles north of here to provide safe passage to all who wish to travel in this road and to prevent any Orcish incursion through the mountain passes. In the future, when we have accumulated the needed funding, we plan to turn Draelmar in a Border Mark to defend all of Sheria from the incidious and vile Orcish presence, we will also need to repair this road..."

The Officer pondered as he looked down at the tattered remains of the once proud road. So many things to do. Expand the Hold, recruit more men and turn the Black Shields into much more than a Cohort, they would become is private army ready to strike when his word so commanded and ready to defend the Sherian Province where others had failed. Many villages still needed to receive help, defensive pallisades had to be erected, roads had to be repaired in order to allow a faster movement of people and goods, agriculture needed to be developped, Deepwood Forest needed to be prepared to become the center of a lumber industry in order to give the borning feud it's needed income.

"Would you mind of sitting with us and sharing our meal? I would like to hear of your journeys and the tales of Narim so one Brightening we can march and reclaim the city for the Sherian once more. Just let winter come to an end, my friend."

The blue eyed Vagaran blinked as he ordered his men to tie the horses to some trees and prepare a small bonfire.

[Trinity]

A bold plan from a man with few men and fewer supplies. The merchant regarded Eyvind quietly for a long time until he was finally pulled to his present senses once again with the small neigh of his feeble horse. Clearing his throat and feeling a little embarrassed, the man put his free hand behind his neck and rubbed it a little bit, looking up at the Provost of the Ninth Imperial Legion a bit sheepishly. "Ah.. eh... My apologies, Cenoris Björnsson. I'm delighted to see some non-leathered skinned faces. That's definitely not what I was expectin'." Dropping his gaze to his shoes momentarily, the man pondered Eyvind's offer. Join them for a meal? It wasn't often that some crazy sword-bearing man showed up with a small patrol of men, intent on keeping the road safe, and offered to share a meal with an unknown traveler.

As the growl of his stomach grew ever demanding, the man licked his lips and finally, reasoned that he could not refuse the kindness of the Black Shields. Simply nodding to the offer, the man led his horse over to where the men were preparing a fire, found a heavy rock, and put the reigns of his horse underneath them. Since the earth around them was pretty tattered and torn, trees to tie horses to were not plentiful and thus the man was not used to using them, despite their semi-presence around this would-be temporary camp site. Folding his legs underneath him after patting the horse's side, he took a seat on the ground near the fire that was just beginning to burn. Giving Eyvind a side-long glance from an even further distance than when he had first encountered him, it suddenly occurred in the merchant's mind that he had not returned the introductions.
"Forgive me, Cenoris Björnsson. M' name's Jonas. Jonas Farling. Used to own the Sailor's Haven back in dear ol' Narim, ya see. Took it kinda hard when the city fell. Got away - though most of 'em didn't... I appreciate your offer of a meal. Been awhile since I rested my feet."

It was a miracle, really, as Joan was an older man of about sixty-five or sixty-six ordinations. His hair had well receded back on his scalp, covered by a floppy hat that looked like it was meant for fishing. His clothes - tattered and dirty looking overalls on top of a plaid shirt, finished by dusty brown leather boots heralded that he'd been traveling for awhile. He wore reading glasses, having found them a necessity in his older age. Somehow, despite all that he'd been through, Jonas still had that friendly old man look to him, one that someone might expect of a grandfather or the local barkeep. There was a solemn smile on his face, as if the happiness it should have possessed was not something he could afford to inject into it at that moment. Having only paused for a moment's time, Farling continued with his own initiation of the conversation as the Black Shield continued to tend to the fire and prepare the meal.
"What is it ya would like to know, kind sir? My journeys I would say are nigh uneventful. Bandit can tell you that." He chuckled slightly as the sentence finished, point a finger back at the horse he'd been walking along the lonely road with. "Maybe ya wish to hear of Narim, though? I lived there practically all my life up until this point. Never saw it comin', the destruction of that great city. I can tell ya all I remember, though I'm probably not the best history buff - just remember the bit that that ol' Dante Caperio used to tell me and some o' what Michum used to say about it. It was kinda the seedy underbelly of this here Province, sir, but it still had it's gleam and shine. Despite their fightin', the Caperios and Selestines helped Michum make sure of that."

Jonas' ramblings had coincided with the wandering of his eyes back towards the silent town. He was a bit reminiscent in the way he talked of that city, but who wouldn't be, having grown up there? There was a wealth of knowledge to be found within that old shopkeeper, and Eyvind was lucky enough to find him and hear his tales of the city, it just depended on what the Vagaran wanted to hear about what it used to be. Old people always liked to tell stories, right? He would probably talk Eyvind's ear off if given the chance. Narim was a colorful place though, it only made sense that the old man would have much to say about it's previous, now snuffed out, life.