IC Scene - The Harbor

Kharad, having finished his dealings with the other Eventiders, begins barking orders to his crew to make ready for cast off. As he made his way over to check the rigging, he calls Tamir to his side.

"Tamir, quickly run down to the cargo hold and check how much oil we have left on board. If we dont have a sufficient amount, well..."

He drifted off as his eyes left the ropes and scanned the docks.

"Im sure you can find plenty out there that the locals wont mind too much about us borrowing. The rest of you, man your stations! And take down the flags! I want to cause as much confusion as possible!"

As he left his men to make preperation, Kharad retreated to his private quarters and hastily wrote out a letter to the other Eventide within the city, informing them that he would make a hasty exit when the battle was done, and that he would sail for <that cove where the Veccavi landed> await them, before they headed back to Singal. Once done he made his way down to the dockside where his ship was moored and pinned the note to post, marking it with a poorly drawn Eventide emblem.

"Better hope the other Orders dont find this first"

A small traders cog sails into the port at half sail, fifteen armored figures stand along the rails watching the city as it closes into view. Another stands at the prow with its hands clasped behind its back, watching the plumes of smoke in the city and listening for the faint sounds of screams and crashes.

"Captain, you will do best to leave this city after you dock, I'm pessimistic you will find much here. Remember my instructions." De'Veer calmly stated. He took prince Valdemar out of his cage and put him into his pocket, closing it enough that the rat could peer out, but be unable to climb out. "Oh curiosity will be the death of me." De'Veer mumbled with a sigh. "Load your crossbows, and keep them trained on anyone we meet" He ordered, turning back to the city he paused in thought. "Venite" he uttered.

Four figures lurched away from the side of the ship and marched ponderously to the figure on the prow, lining up behind it in perfect file, waiting intently for his orders. One word makes it through the constant wind of Windholm, "Parati."

De'Veer watched his great knights of the radiant cross tie down their wax boards, and muffle their bells, which they usually left to blow in the wind. Next they hoisted their polehammers, and stood around him protectively as the ship came up to the wharf. De'Veer carefully walked off the ship, and grabbed onto a nearby barrel to wait out his sea legs. His knights stood unnaffected around him in a daimond, gazing silently as ever out into the city. His retainers faired less well, one crashed to the ground and fired a bolt careening into the ocean. The unnaffected Captain and his small crew quickly unloaded the ship of the small parties belongings. Then, thanking De'Veer once more, sailed away.

After nearly ten minutes of adjusting, the harbour was still quiet. So the party walked away from the peer and up to the street, meager belongings in hand. A flash in one of the windows did not go unnoticed by De'Veer: "You there!" he said. "Far be it from me to intrude, but why is the city on fire?"

The man stopped by De'Veer stopped, looking slightly annoyed. He answered anyway. "The rebellion's in a big battle now. Some outside knights joined Cap'n Barbarossa and took the fight to the Duchess. I dunno what's goin' on, but I bet those fancy knights are showing the Duchess and her Lions what for!"

De'Veer listens concernedly. Order involvement prompted caution, but the man gave little other helpful information. "Excellent" he mumbled in response and turned back to the harbor to see the shadow legionnaires ship sail into port. Perhaps some better information would be available there. "Lower your crossbows, but be ready for anything, stay close with me." De'Veer cautiously marched back to the wharf, and hailed the ship from a respectful distance.

"You have me at a disadvantage legionnaires, I am Doctor Edion De'Veer, of the radiant cross if the armor did not make it more obvious. These are my fellow knights." He said, waving his hand at his four impassive guardians. "And my loyal retainers. Perhaps your dashing leader would be so kind as to introduce themselves, and shed light on the predicament, of this glorified fishing village?"

Seleucia walked forward, off the plank connecting the galley to the dock. Her helmet was still on, but she no longer carried her shield.

"I am Trierarch Seleucia, of the Shadow Legion. The battle is decided at the Duke's Wharf. Are you gold or grey?"

De'Veer was momentarily shocked by the question and stood for a few moments with his mouth open. "Excuse me?" he finally managed. "I have some gold? And I'm sure my medical talents could more than make up for any shortcomings."

Seleucia cocked her head to the side slightly. She knew her accent seemed thick to Pendorians, but surely not -that- thick.

"I mean are you with the Duchess or Conrad Valdor, the Merchants' Prince?"

"Erm no I'm with some knights and retainers of the radiant cross, we don't have any duchesses that I know of."

"Valdor isn't here, sir," said one man at the entrance. "He's on the bridge here, trying to take the slums and rally support for a final push against the Duchess."

The man grimaced, suddenly realizing what his words implied given Morek's presence.

Seleucia's eyes narrowed at the man. Was this Radiant intentionally wasting her time, or making fun of her? On Amala, she might simply have been able to kill him without any worry of the consequences.

"This ships is not for you. Go, off the dock!"

De'Veers face went thunderous at his sudden dismissal. "Now bloody well listen here Amalan, I have just been sent back to this decadent nation after fighting to free your superstitious homeland. Now I have arrived not fifteen minutes ago to find Windholm on fire and a damn civil war in order." He bellows, glancing back towards Windholm to see more plumes of smoke billowing into the air. "Now would you kindly tell me what in the gods name is happening." He finished, moving a hand to his brow and closing his eyes, he felt a bad headache approaching.

Seleucia slowly drew her sword, as did the Legionnaires behind her. A 4-Marinus long column formed on the plank, halbards lowered.

"Insulting Amala is not the wise choice, Crusader."

"Bearing steel even less so." De'Veer retorted, his eleven plaguewardons quickly pointing their crossbows at Seleucia. A low rumbling emanated from the four Radiant knights, and they raised their pole hammers threateningly. De'Veer was suddenly very glad he had kept his distance when hailing the ship. "Stay still please and tell your men to put away their pig stickers." De'Veer then pushed Prince Valdemar down into his pocket and closed a button to keep him safe, stage whispering loud enough for the  legionaries to hear: "Shoot the centurion if they move."

He looked back up resting his maul on the ground by the handle, crossing his arms and leaning across the head. "Honestly Seleucia you don't even have a shield" he said with a smile.

Nothing was ever simple in Windholm it seemed. Morek nodded his thanks to the mercenary for his answer before getting the details of where exactly Valdor was supposed to be. While he did so his men gathered up their gear and arms, and formed up into a marching column.

The sound of hobnailed boots sounded as Morek led his men towards the bridge, morningstar in hand and flanked by a trio of wardens, the rest of his party close behind in fighting order.

Selecuia let out a long sigh, with a slight nod of her head following. Immediately, the Legionnaires drew their javelins. The crewmen of the galley, at least those not chained to their oars, seemed likewise agitated.

"I see why you Crusaders never complete a conquest..."

The moment the legionaries moved, a jumpy plaguewarden fired at Seleucia. Acting on crowd impulse the rest followed his example and fired at the Trierarch an instant later. De'Veer immediately sprinted backwards, his knights ponderously attempting to keep up. "Back, out of javelin range!" he shouted to his retainers. Dumbfounded for a moment the wardens sprint after him.

De'Veer's volley was more devastating to the exposed legionnaires than Selucia had likely anticipated. In seconds, half of her men were lying on the ground, bleeding from any number of wounds. The remaining centurions and Selucia herself, a quarrel in her leg, were caught briefly disorganized and unable to react to the Radiant's withdrawal.
______

Not far away, Morek assembled what men were able to fight. Fortunately, though most limped or grunted as they moved, it was a good portion of his force. The proceeded across the bridge in good order, regardless. Coming upon the slums, the Radiants found dozens of wounded loyalists amid even more rebels. It appeared that Valdor had forced his way through the defensive line. However, those men were now embroiled in a fight not far up the road to the castle, losing badly to guard reinforcements. Some could be seen trying to rouse the slum dwellers to fight to no avail.

At the foot of the bridge, Conrad Valdor attempted to coordinate his dwindling men, his rebellion falling apart before his very eyes.

[OOC: So...the Shadow Legion, while ready for battle...wasn't ready for the shooting quite yet. All four Marinus are on the ground, as are two Legionnaires.

Morek: 6 Plaguewardens, 4 Wyverns (though three were battle ready when you retreated, there were six total that had joined you...right?) and the remaining Radiant knights are with you.]

What had begun as a march soon picked up pace into a ground eating trot towards the melee on the bridge, those that could not move at normal speed drifting to the back of the formation naturally. The Dawn Wyverns drew their swords, forming a line of advance even with Morek. The wardens had their crossbows unlimbered behind the wall of swords, shields and a morningstar that neared the embattled Valdor and his men. The two Radiant Knights stood close behind Morek, ready to use the length of their polearms to support the line in front of them if needed.

As they neared, the wardens with their crossbows paused to loose a volley towards the guardsmen on the fringes of the conflict, careful to fire only when the chance to hit a guardsman was far greater than a rebel before jogging to catch up.

Morek had eyes only for the natives cowering in their slums. He bared his teeth in a snarl under his helmet before lifting his morningstar into the air and barking out in his best parade ground voice:

"Fight men of Windholm! Fight! I can guarantee you that no greater chance will come to right any wrongs you have with these dogs of the Guard than now! Show the men who keep their boots on your throat that they are right to move in packs out of fear of you in your streets! This is your territory and they are the invaders! Fight for it! The Gods themselves wish it of you!"

Morek took a chance that there were pious believers in the surrounding poor slums, that there were those who had suffered under the hands of the guardsmen in some way or another, that there were some who did not fit into the mold that the guardsmen demanded of Windholm citizens and were trod upon for it. He gave them a chance to fight back and give vent to their grievances in the most base and direct way possible.

Morek directed his next words towards Valdor as he approached, slowing from a trot as the group neared.

"Guildmaster! Hail and Well Met! If you want your men and you to survive do as I say! Pull them back and tighten the ranks! Shields in front! We have the numbers, but fight with your fellows not alone!"


[Actions: use of priest trait to rally the embattled rebels and inspire the surrounding slum dwellers to attack the guardsmen. Says hi to Valdor with some friendly suggestions on how to not die.]

Seleucia groaned as she landed on her backside on the dock, a bolt stuck in her left shin and shin armor. The sight of the Radiants fleeing the might of the Shadow Legion was at least small consolation.

"Back to the Sea Viper. And kill any Crusaders before they speak this time."

She struggled to stand, and limped her way back onto her own ship.

De'Veer stops when out of javelin range. Turning quickly and holding his hand up for the plaguewardens. "Reload" he manages through his panting. Tentatively watching the legionaries limp back onto their ship he notes down Seleucia as a woman to remember. Better make sure she remembers him. "Give them another volley" he orders.

De'Veer's second volley was nowhere near as successful as the first, most shots missing and the rest blocked by shields. The less wounded legionnaires helped their comrades aboard the vessel while those still able to fight covered them with their shields. They wouldn't be a threat any longer.
______

Morek's words, inspiring though they were, only elicited tacit reaction, some among the slum dwellers running to join the losing fight. It seemed that the people were far more afraid of what the guards, obviously winning the battle, would do to them.

Valdor turned to a messenger as Morek approached. "Well, you heard him!" he said to a nearby runner. "Give the order to the line!"

Shaking his head, the merchant approached Morek. "We have the numbers, but we lack the skill," he lamented. "They're well-armed, armored, disciplined...." He gave Morek and his troops a good lookover. "Your men look like hell. What happened?"

[OOC: These rolls for your silver-tongued speeches...they are just horrific. Every time I've rolled to see the effects, it just plants you squarely in failure territory, even with applied bonuses.]

"What fun." De'Veer murmured, watching the the shields line the ship protectively. He stood transfixed in thought for several seconds as the plaguewardens reloaded. "Hold fire and be ready to shoot anyone else bearing steel. Strip your arms and emblems, I don't care if you have to freeze in the chainmail, I don't want anything on any of you that will show you to be a Radiant crusader." He then turned to his four fellow knights and quickly pulled the radiant colours and devices from their armor, they stood passively as he did so, raising an arm complacently when he gently pushed, but continuing to stand silent and impassive, their faces concealed by their helmets. At the last knight De'Veer noticed the wax slab had been written on, he held it up to the light and read the text carefully.

It was a confusing script, half surreal drawings, half pigeon dialects ripped from a handful of languages, lastly each small selection of text was bordered by different shapes with symbols inside of them. De'Veer was adept at reading the script his knights wrote, but each new occurrence was different and had to be read carefully to be interpreted properly. The picture denoted the city, with several Barclesian and Baccus words for leaving. The confusing part was the symbols ringing the text, they expressed shame from the knight, but De'Veer could not figure out what for. The knight stood impassively and unconcerned, identical to his three brethren. Worried, De'Veer cleared the tab and removed his own Radiant heraldry, and hung his plague mask by his hip. Now his wardons looked more like mercenaries, and his knights, still looked like knights, the damn silvery swirls hammered into the armour of his order gave them away to anyone with a trained eye. He could hang his doctors robes comfortably over his own armour. His knights however, he would need to find some large amounts of fabric to cover that.

He glanced back up to the sky that was rapidly filling with more smoke. There was no time to go searching for capes, he had to get out of the city and go east, and get to Ethos. Going around the wharf to the church of Astraea and then taking Adalhard road out of the city seemed the best idea. He set off, retinue in tow.

Morek had ignored Valdor for a moment, instead barking a few commands at the reforming rebels.

"Present shield wall, then begin advancing back towards the harbor! Keep your formation or you'll be dead!"

After that he turned to Valdor to speak with him.

"We fought and lost. The Eventide were butchered by the Lions and it looked like the Dragons threw themselves against an opponent that had numerical superiority several times over. Barbarossa and the Dawn were also surrounded when my men and I left that debacle. We are leaving this city via one of the ships in the harbor and I suggest that you and your men accompany us from this city. This war is lost. We pull back and Evacuate, there is no other choice."

Morek and his men began moving back to the harbor, hoping that Valdor an his rebels would accompany them.

Valdor nodded and shook his head. "This has been such a disaster," he lamented. "The Duchess abuses her people with impossible taxes...yet we must suffer in every way for it." He waved a new messenger away, his orders implied in his stance.

The merchant took shelter behind a worn shield as a new rain of arrows was loosed into the air. Mercenary leaders began shouting, "Fall back! Back across the bridge!" The formation stayed surprisingly together as the rebels followed the order. Some of the city guard began filtering into the slums, but the bulk reinforced the defensive line, fixing it where able and filling the gaps with their shields. Valdor himself looked crestfallen at the troops crossed the span.

Edion De'Veer was just passing the merchant's guild as Morek returned.

[OOC: Hey, isn't that convenient and not totally contrived in any way?!]