Lordling (Harwood)

[bobgod]

Edwin looks at the two knights, his demeanor slowly shifting into subtle, soft one. He would speak out, addressing both of them with an equal, calm tone, his voice fluctuating to a slightly higher tone at the end of his sentences, enunciating a sincere tone.

"I am a young man, and while in my youth I am not the most knowledgeable I am blessed to have friends who are, men such as good Sir Borren, and even you two knights, who I remember fighting together against Guy Edban. My good friends, we are not enemies. We have our differences, and our concerns, but we all fear for our homes, and our people, and I see in both of you a yearning desire to protect what you love, one way or the other." The lordling shifts his tone slightly, into a deeper, more foreboding one, "But listen here, unless all of Stromwood are together, no amount of magic can save us. Sir Moulton, Sir Mellard, we are loyal to the baron, not his lackey Crowley. If we work together, we can rally the Barons lords to help him in his most dire time of need. What knights would we be, iron or stone, if we turned our backs to our people now? What knights would we be if we placed our trust in anything beside the Paragon? Sir Moulton, Sir Mellard, ride with me, so we may rally the barons men, and force this Crowley to listen to our demands, not his. What say you? Will you serve your lord and people? Or will you both forsake your vows?"

Edwin finishes his speech, looking both of the men dead in the eye, first Sir Moulton, then Sir Mellard.

 

[Lorsh]

Sir Mellard [20%] and Sir Moulton [60%] listen to your speech, and after considering the ideas you put forward, they respond to your attempt to sway them to your cause.

Sir Mellard sighs. "I'm not here to get sentimental with anyone, my lord. I am a knight, yes. In my heart, I think I am true more often than not. But I am a servant, and I follow instructions. Paragon will not resent me, or any of the men, for trusting their liege." He draws in a breath, and exhales very slowly. "Magic, it may be. But it is something vivid, not just a distant idea... and I would ask the same thing of you, Lord Edwin. To be a man who will not turn his back on his rightful liege, the man who represents our people. However good you may be at giving speeches, you must know that Lord Stromwood will not allow you to sweep this man aside." [Failure]

Your companions exchange awkward glances with the Stromwood knights.

Less is asked of Sir Moulton, who does not take as much time to reach a decision. "Yes, I would join you, Lord Edwin. Paragon is just, and He knows forgiveness... if our liege was merely tricked, then perhaps there is room for understanding. The particulars on whether Lord Stromwood is a heretic or not... well, they don't ultimately matter if Crowley is behind the curtain. We are still doing our duty to House Stromwood if we are acting to protect their people and lands. I hope our lord will not oppose us if we all stand together against the dark masters that are manipulating him... but we'll have to see. I made a pledge to Isania, Lord Edwin, but as she seeks the same goals, I would gladly ride with you." [Success]

 

[bobgod]

"You don't like how I speak, Sir Mellard? Then let me speak plainly. The Paragon will resent you for trusting necromancy, you know in your heart these powers are wholly evil. Do I need to show you the bailiffs girl? I've never seen anything like it, you could see the death in her eyes." Edwin puts emphasis on his language, speaking at the knight.

"And I do not plan to just sweep this Crowley beside. Who do we serve, Sir? The baron? Or Crowley? What fault are we doing by rallying the gentleman and nobles of the realm in defense of our baron? I am not asking you to choose one side or the other, what I am saying is lest we leverage the barony against this Crowley, therefor balancing out our lords power, we risk losing our sovereignty to these would be overlords. Tell me, is this what you want? Am I so mad for thinking this way Sir Mellard?"

 

[Lorsh]

Sir Mellard seems to shift uncomfortably, but after a moment of reflection he seems to draw in a breath. "My apologies, Lord Edwin. Perhaps it is a bit rash of me to put so much trust in these... ruinous magicks," he admits, though he has an air of awkwardness now that the other knights seem to be staring. "I am not sure how we will go about confronting Crowley. Would we be doing it now, or would we be gathering other supports first? And what would we tell the Vizierdrakes? They seem... out-of-the way, in terms of the maps. But the messenger shows that they are good-intentioned. Their house is ancient, but their 'lord', or should I say castellan, is new... if he's interested in saving the realm, he may be willing to join us." He chuckles a bit. "The boy has to compensate for his lack of knighthood somehow."

 

[bobgod]

"I apologize as well, Sir Mellard, I have my fathers temper, but also his good intentions too. I am glad we have made peace among ourselves, it is the first step in a long battle, if these rumors are true. I believe that now we've made peace the freeman will follow us for some time more, especially considering there would have been men from the same clans and families fighting one another, had our forces met. But they must also get back to their homes, to plant their crop, lest we begin paying them. Regardless, I am unsure exactly how to deal with this Crowley, but I agree, the Vizierdrake could provide men, and the Strongwoods of Gremotte would be honor bound to protect their cousins, we could find many knights there for our cause. Furthermore, Lord Pelkey of Squiretop could provide ample support."

Edwin allows any responses, before speaking again.

"But the time is late, and I believe that our host is deserving of some rest, and security for the time being. Sir Moulton, may we shelter nearby the village for the night?" Edwin looks over at Sir Hywel, "Perhaps I could arrange to purchase some of that ale your levies brought with us? Give us all a well deserved break, and something to lift the spirits of the men. Then perhaps while they have their merry time we gentleman could begin to talk, and make an actual plan."

 

[Lorsh]

Sir Mellard nods. At some point during the stand-off, he steered his mount slightly away from the group when you insinuated action against the Baron... he makes a point to return to his earlier spot, trotting over next to stand next to the Stromwoods, Harwoods, and now Moulton men as they all look to you.

Sir Carreck makes a quick comment. "My wife is a Strongwood, they may not hasten to follow a Harwood," he points out. They were always the more... imposing of the Stromwood vassals. It was worth noting that Lord Harran Strongwood, a brother-in-law of the Baron, had the title of constable. It was the second-most senior military appointment in the barony.

Sir Hywel nods and chuckles at the prospect of treating the men to some drinks. Thinks for a moment. "Well... we might not have to buy it. The men with the ale, though jolly fellows, are due to pay some amercements. I mean, those things could always be forgiven, if they are willing to share." Stromroad peasants weren't always as productive as the ones in other vills... but they could always be counted on to rack up fines.


The cleric speaks up gently, and offers a short prayer thanking Paragon for the avoidance of battle. Afterwards, your men are ready to wrap up the successful parley.

 

[bobgod]

"Let us make for the village, Sir Moulton, perhaps there is an inn we could stay and meet for the night? I'd be willing to pay coin, the small folk can rest assured, and the host can camp outside the village for the evening." Edwin speaks to the crowd of knights, contemplating for a moment.

"I think we are all due for some rest. Let us take an hour to settle down, then meet. Sir Moulton, you can inform your men that we have brokered peace, and better yet an alliance, and that the Lord of Harwood shall speak to them in the morning, also let them know about the festivity. In the meantime I shall return to my own host, and tell them about the news as well. I imagine spirits will be high, gentleman, we will need some to keep a watch on the festivities, if you would, ask some men from your retinues to keep watch, and not enjoy themselves to much. I'd reckon you could convince your squires, or perhaps some of your old sergeants in this matter. Sir Borren, do the same for our retinue. Not everybody can be drunk all night, sadly. Furthermore, we must ensure the common folk treat the locals of the town well, I will not tolerate any vile business while men are here under my banner."

Edwin turns his horse, then speaking again, "Well, we have our plan then, don't we gentleman? We shall meet in the hour!" The lordling rides off, back towards his host, a full spirited gallop back, hoping to create suspense upon his return, perhaps lulling the soldiers into a sense that the negotiations failed.

"Men, I have news for you!" Edwin shouts out, yelling to the entire host. "It seems good Sir Moulton has come to his senses, and joined us. Rest assured, as I promised you, we did not march for battle, rather to make new friends! I imagine many of you had family here in the village. Take tonight, men, see your kin, have a jolly time! Tomorrow I shall speak with you all again. Now, let us meet with our friends, and march into the village!"

 

[Lorsh]

The parley concludes, with your companions old and new setting out to accomplish their respective tasks. The host is informed of the situation, and a hearty cheer rises up among the men. As most of them are levies, they had no wish to spill any blood, much less the blood of other villfolk from the same barony. As the host draws closer to Stoncrest, Moulton's militia have since laid down their weapons, emerging from their homes and singing praises to God as they warmly receive you and your men. These folk had been expecting the worst, but the parley had saved them from needless bloodshed.

"Lord Edwin! Bless you, Lord Edwin!" A peasant girl waves.

"Sir Moulton!" others cry. "He did it! Paragon be praised!"

Sir Moulton invites your affinity into his stout, stonebuilt manor. There are a few taverns where the men gather to drink with the serfs, though most of the men end up staying in the camp.


Baxter, the Vizierdrake rider, approaches your banners as they draw closer to the village. "Aye, I see it all went well!" he laughed, his eyes scanning the mirthful villfolk. "From how you lot had been chatting earlier, I thought I was going to be caught in the middle of something mighty nasty. Congratulations, sirs." He looks to you, now. "And what words would you have me relay to my master, milord?"

 

[bobgod]

Edwin smiles and looks gracefully at the peasantry cheering for him, turning his head towards Sir Moulton and giving the knight a slight nod, bringing his hand up towards his eye, returning it to rest upon the hilt of his fathers old sword. The lordling continues his parade down the streets, a sense of pride filling him, he knew that he saved many lives today, but still the back of his mind was filled with the terrors of the abyss.

While riding, Edwin hails the Vizierdrake rider, speaking, "Aye good Baxter, we had never wished to fight, and have made peace and continued our brotherhood. I would ask you to go to your master and deliver a message, I'll have it penned up and in your hand soon. If it would please you, I'd invite you to enjoy our company, and some good ale from Stromroad, however if you must leave I also understand."

Edwin finishes speaking with the Vizierdrake man, taking some time to change out of his arms, and into more comfortable clothes, within the comfort of a spare room in Sir Moultons manor. He would spend a small bit of time to himself, eating some hard cheese and smoked meat, while sipping on mulled wine, not enough to take away his wit. Soon enough, however, the time for rest would be over, and Edwin would meet with his knights again.

"Gentleman, today we were fortunate enough to make peace with each other, but the fact of the matter remains, our realm is still very much at risk from these unholy forces. First we shall begin with some questions, Sir Mellard, and the knights of Stromwood, you must tell us everything of note within the Barons court. Anything which you perceive as odd, as being used against our lord, anything, primarily regarding Crowley and his dark knights. Then, Sir Mellard, I would like you to speak about the abbey, and the possibility we could receive aid from there. Finally, before we speak, I have told the Vizierdrake man that we would request aid from their castellan, should he be willing. Now then, let us get on with it."

Spoiler: Letter

To the noble house Vizierdrake,

My name is Edwin Harwood, lord of Baron Angas Stromwood. I have received your rider, and have witnessed for myself these undead. I was ordered to assemble a host to capture a traitor knight who in actuality has discovered a plot of necromancers hoping to engulf our realm. I have made peace with this knight, and we are currently in the village of Stoncrest, however will likely be moving from there soon. We are assembling freemen, knights of the realm, and nobles in a quest to save our Lord from the clutches of necromancy, and by the grace of the Paragon purge our land of this plight. I am calling your family, as gentle people whose power is derived from the Paragon to take up arms in our holy mission to rout this evil from the land.

Should you send men to my aide, direct them to the village of Stoncrest, where the local cleric there shall send them towards our way so our forces may unite. The stake of the realm, all of Midduch indeed, is on the line here, my lord. I hope to hear from you soon.

Signed, Lord Edwin Harwood

 

[Lorsh]

Baxter nods, and seems happy enough to join you in the manor. He supposes he is not pressed for time; had he not encountered this situation, he would likely still be on the road to Stromwood Castle right now. While you take your time in preparing the letter, he briefly drinks ale with the others in the manor.

Sir Moulton is a bachelor, and it seems that his manor is kept in a state that bailiffs and reeves might tolerate, but likely not a noble lady. There were even chickens strutting along the floor by the hearth, though Sir Moulton once remarked they were a good defense against beetles.

You gather with your men in the hall, and address the gentry. Sir Mellard divulges some information about the goings-on in Stromwood Castle. "The men from Crowley's order keep to themselves. They stayed away from the clerics but didn't interrupt them. Sometimes Crowley talks to the castle staff, and attempts to impress a knowledge of herbalism if they have any ails, though they are slow to trust him," he says.

"Aye," Sir Carreck says. "Someone queer, like Crowley, is at Gremotte. A woman, this time. But she does not wear black, she likes her tricks with plants, and performs for Lord Greydan and his wife," he murmurs. There is some silence.

"Are you saying that Gremotte may be affected by this... conspiracy, as well?" Sir Pembry asks.

"Mayhaps. She doesn't sit right with me."

 

[bobgod]

Edwin chuckles the patrolling chickens, shifting his attention to the knights soon after.

"Sir Mellard, how many men has this Crowley brought with him? How many of them are of good fighting stock, and well armored? Should things come to bloodshed, I'd like to be the better force, regardless of whatever unholy tricks they may possess."

Edwin listens to Sir Carreck, before speaking. "It seems that the Strongwoods may indeed be roped into this plot. I found it interesting that I was summoned to march against Sir Moulton, rather than the Barons constable. It makes me wonder how deep this conspiracy goes. Regardless, the Stongwoods are proud folk, I worry that by including them, their main concern will be building their own power over the Baron, rather than helping the realm. Still, they are a strong house, and their knights would be of much use should things turn violent."

The Harwood lordling shifts the conversation slightly, addressing the room, "Right now we have the support of mine own levied freemen and retinue, Sir Moultons freeman, Sir Mellards riders, and I also assume the levy of Bannon. I have also began correspondence with the castellan of Charondale, the young Vizierdrake man, in hopes he shall provide men to our cause."

Edwin takes a drink from his mulled wine, then continues to discuss with his council, "Sir Moulton, could you perhaps rally the support of Isania the Virgin? Her blessing alone would help to further legitimize our cause, let alone the presence of paladins from Trimount, and perhaps even herself. It is one thing for us to march in defense of our Baron, but the small folk need better reason than just an odd conspiracy, especially with the planting of the harvest drawing near."

The young lord pauses, "Also, there is the Pelkeys of Squiretop, I am sure they would be eager to prove themselves to the Baron, and support our cause. Who else, gentleman, could come to our aid? Would the other barons, even their lordlings, be willing? Who, my lords?"

 

[Lorsh]

"Crowley has less than a dozen followers in his 'entourage'. Maybe half are fighters," Sir Mellard tells you.

Sir Moulton provides some information about the goings-on at Trimount. "Isania works closely with the Abbess Patrocia. We may have to speak with them first, but they have similar goals to us," he says. "With the fall of Aussux, the abbey's lower villages have been nearly overrun with the dead. The paladins and levies have secured the main road leading to the abbey, however."



The knight continues. "When I pledged myself to the abbey, I was promised a dozen paladins to assist my rebellion- however, I was informed they weren't available until they finished fortifying their main village defense. I do not know when the abbey will consider these men available," he admits.

"Lord Pelkey has close ties to the Stromwoods," Sir Destrin points out. "He is a new lord without many holdings, and has had to rely on him for support." He tries to consider.

"Well, there's the du Artois family, to the south of the Pelkeys. But they belong the Clay Barony," Sir Pembry points out.

"More old imperials," Sir Destrin shrugs. Though you heard a rumor they were powerful in the old days, the du Artois family had quickly lost relevance upon the fall of the Empire, now reduced to lordling status. "But... they're quite separated, if I recall it right, from the rest of the Clay Barony. They might be willing to help, if their own lord can't easily get to them."

 

[bobgod]

"And to our north? Besides the Vizierdrake I know of the Baron of Tuwold, and those Terryn men, but I've heard stories of their feuds with the Strongwoods." Edwin considers, before speaking again. "Aye, we could ask the good Du Artois for help as well, they are far from their liege, I doubt he would notice their absence for some time, and god-willing would forgive it considering the circumstances."

"We are in a delicate position, I fear that should we ask other Barons for help they will abuse this situation to garner more power over us, same with some of the lords within our own realm. It seems to me these small lordlings, as close to true knights like you gentleman, are our best choice. This being said, we have already called upon the Vizierdrake, I will write letters to the Terryns, and Du Artois, finally, Sir Moulton, would you be willing to ride for the abbey and press for those paladins? Isania must realize our situation is dire.

"Finally, I will call upon the Pelkeys, however I am split regarding the Strongwoods, especially considering the woman who infests their court. Perhaps she is worth looking into? Sir Carreck, what is the sentiment of your wifes house? Would they follow us? Have you heard about this women before?"

 

[Lorsh]

The men generally understand your sentiment about not drawing in too many outside forces, lest the balance of power in the barony be disrupted.

Sir Moulton accepts the task of relaying your intents to Trimount Abbey. "Aye, of course, Lord Edwin. Just give me a handful of lads to bring along, in case there is evil on the path."

Sir Carreck sighs. "I don't know much about this woman, other than that she has been there for a few days, and that I don't like the look of her... but I trust myself whenever I get a feeling in my innards," the knight tells you. "And well... my lord, I don't think there is much that could done to convince the Strongwoods to join you. They are in league with the Stromwoods- their name is bloody well basically the same, isn't it?" he chuckles. "I am not overly warm terms with my in-laws, and I doubt I could convince them of anything either. I think, my lord, you can only hope that they choose to stay out of your way."

Sir Hywel speaks up. "Pardon, sir. If something does happen, what will happen to your family at Gremotte, if they know you are fighting for us?"

He shrugs. "I doubt anything will happen to them. Lord Harran won't do any harm to his own daughter, though he'll look for my head."

 

[bobgod]

"Very well, Sir Moulton, I shall give you some of my retinue, good riders among them, nice and light too. You'll ride hard and fast for the abbey, if you leave tomorrow how soon could you rejoin us, Sir?"

Edwin is shocked, hearing Sir Hywel and Sir Carreck theorizing their potential betrayal to the Baron. In someways it calmed Edwin, knowing the Stromwood knights would potentially fight their, or his forces should they fall under the perversion of Crowley. However, the young lordling did not express these emotions outwardly, rather shrugging off their conversation.

"Sir Carreck, how many men does Gremotte field? And which villages are under them, and who are their masters? This goes to all of you, if good Sir Carreck does not know and you might." Edwin looks around, awaiting a response.

Edwin looks at the barons executioner, speaking, "Could you rally the levies of Bannon as well, in our cause? I know they are already raised. If we are to win this struggle against the wicked, it shall be through numbers, sir. So apart of this, I believe our best course of action shall be to call forth those smaller, eager lordlings, so that they may help defend the realm and repel the undead from our domain."

 

[Lorsh]

"I believe I should make it back to you in two to three days' time," Sir Moulton guesses. "There is a pilgrim's path along where the forest hugs Trimount's western rock, but it takes time to reach the Abbey through there."

"The Strongwoods have about a hundred merry men. They could raise another hundred from the Howesbury levy," Sir Carreck guesses. "And perhaps... close to another hundred, if they try, from the rest of the territory. I'm not sure how long this would take them, maybe a few days, since there are so many little hamlets. The only other proper village they own is Layne, near that rotted, timber castle of the same name. Sir Corin Strongwood is master there, while Sir Perry Stromwood is master of Howesbury. Then, they have a dozen lesser knights looking after the petty hamlets."

"Yes," Sir Mellard nods, "we can bring the Bannon levies. As I am their rightful master, they will follow me. And, of course, it shouldn't be too difficult to explain our mission to them."

 

[bobgod]

"It is getting late. I will write letters to the lordlings we hope to call to our cause. Sir Moulton, in the morning you and some riders will ride for the abbey, and we shall march back to Bannon and consolidate there for some time. Sir Moulton, could you set your bailiff here to gathering supplies for us? We shall do the same in Bannon, and other villages on our way towards Stromwood keep. Are there any questions?"

Sir Edwin would dismiss the knights for the night, and compose the letters to the various nobles he'd hope to call to his cause. The letter would be similar among all the lords, only the names being different.

Spoiler: Letters

My lord, as a noble of the realm I am calling you to my aid. I am sure you have seen the undeath to plague our sweet land, and I believe I have discovered the conspiracy behind it. At the court of Baron Angas Stromwood there is a necromancer by the name of Crowley. He is apart of a far larger plot to destroy the realm, and we must take action as men of the King to stop this. March for the village of Bannon, and if my host is not there ask the local clergy where we have gone to, for they shall know. We have the blessing of Trimont abbey, and will have paladins riding beside us in this holy endeavor. I know you shall do the right thing,

signed, Edwin Harwood

 

[Lorsh]

You finish giving the last of your orders, then go about composing the letters, before retiring for the night. Tour army makes nightly preparations in the village of Stoncrest after the celebrations wind down, with the local clerics leading a group prayer against the dark Curse. The men eat their rations or barter for some food with the locals. The night picquet for your troops is set, while the rest of the army makes camp and sleeps.



You rise in the morning, and your army makes preparations to move again.

Sir Moulton has secured some extra provisions from the village to ensure that the march can continue for a few more days, and it has been loaded into the wagons. The peasants were willing to surrender some of their produce, as you seem to be heading a very special cause. After that, Sir Moulton takes 4 horsemen and rides for Trimount.


The march continues to Bannon, except things aren't all well upon your hosts arrival. Your army runs into several fleeing refugees, and your outriders later report that they have spotted a horde of undead, perhaps two or three score in number, making their way towards the village square. The Bannon militia does not seem to be anywhere in sight.

"By all that's hallowed, what the hell is going on in my village?" Sir Mellard exclaims.

 

[bobgod]

The morning was simple for Edwin, sending Sir Moulton off to Trimont, and readying the host down towards Bannon. The march however, was different. Absorbing some peasants into the host on the way down was one thing, but rumors of the undead horde seemed to unnerve some men, and finally once the army was on the step of Bannon, Edwin prepared his host.

The young lord would call out, yelling to his men, giving a rallying cry to them.

"Good men, down this road we have been told of nearly 50 undead men, prepared to ravage this village! We will NOT allow that to happen. Archers, form at our center, you alone outnumber these ghastly men, your arrows shall take them down! Should they withstand our fury, then you men shall fall behind our infantry, where you good men shall form a shield wall. You will brace yourselves for impact, and then finally our horses, led by Sir Mellard and myself, shall tear through their rear with our lances. Sir Borren, you will be with the sergeants at the spear wall, guiding our host from there. Join me in prayer, that oh great Emmortal, whose name be blessed, who in his goodness has helped us with his great salvation, deliver us! Deliver us the day! Praise be your name!"

The host marches forward, prepared for battle.

 

[Lorsh]

You see fear in the faces of your men as the moans of the dead carry on the wind, but your rallying cry helps to inspire them. The orders are clear, and they are reminded that they outnumber the enemy, and must persevere if they are to save the vill. And, of course, the quick prayer reminds them of Paragon's presence in their hearts.

"Archers, to the front! Move, go now!" Sir Borren hollers. He then points towards the footmen. "Come on lads, pick up your shields, fall in behind, and get ready!"

The host marches down towards Bannon, with the cavalry splitting off at the intersection. You ride past several hovels where peasants are hiding.


The arrows begin to fly quickly, and you can see them strike the bodies of the fiends. Some of them have fallen from the volley, but fewer than expected. Another volley is loosed, then another; many of the ghouls are beginning to look like putrid pin pillows.

It doesn't take much time for your cavalry to come around on the path. You ride past at least a dozen ghouls which seem to be distracted by their hunger for the flesh of the fallen, and have not lumbered forth with the rest of the horde. A few of your riders slash at the feasting ghouls as they pass by.

The horses then collide with the main group of undead, which had been engaging the shield wall. Many of them are knocked to the ground, badly trampled, or lanced. Many of the infantry have snarling ghouls impaled on the ends of their spears, and frantically hold them in place while waiting for someone else (be they another spearman or a horseman) to finish it off with a well-placed blow to the head.


Soon, the main body of the horde has been dispatched, and though it does not seem like any of your men were wounded, it was a grotesque affair. The ghouls wore the garb of villfolk, vagrants, freemen... but their blood was black, and they stunk of an unholy putrescence. A small number are still feasting. You see various bloody remains belonging to men, women, as well as at least two children, strewn across the path between two thickets. They are still being gnawed upon by the ghastly creatures, which seemed to have paid no mind to the slaughter of their 'comrades'. A number of animals seem to have been brought down as well; you see a fallen cow with its innards being slowly yanked out by a reanimated peasant woman.

Some of your men celebrate victory, others recoil as the thrill of battle dies and they are forced to simply stare at the unnatural and ungodly carnage in front of them. "Damn it!" Sir Mellard exclaims, ordering some of his horsemen to finish off the remaining undead. "Think of what else the bastards could have done, had we not arrived."

 

[bobgod]

The sound of steel on flesh was new to Edwin, he had practiced with Sir Borren for years, mastering the sword, but against unarmored, mindless foes it was nothing he had experienced. After the crash of battle, the lordling reigned back his horse, the beast kicking up his front legs, letting out a loud breath of air, returning the the ground with a loud thud. Edwin looked around for a moment, like many others, witnessing the carnage. Despite their overwhelming numbers, he still counted this a massive victory for his host, they could be killed, and better, his men seemed unharmed, and unbroken.

"Do not think so hard yet, good Sir Mellard, we must secure the village!" Edwin looks over, identifying Sir Borren in the crowd, yelling out to him and the barons executioner. "Organize some parties, solid groups of men, and have them secure the rest of the village. Ensure that the peasants are safe in their homes. Make sure the groups have good sergeants with them, and that they understand the smallfolk, and their belongings are not to be touched. I shall take a contingent of cavalry and do the same. Go now, with speed, and when this is done we shall regroup in the village square!"

Edwin would await potential questions from his knights and officers, then continue on with other horses at his back, patrolling the village for anymore of the undead.

 

[Lorsh]

Your men quickly reorganize, and following your commands to the best of their abilities, they establish control in the village center. A few able-bodied peasants emerge from their hovels to assist and support your men as they deal with the remaining assailants. Some of the men shy away from dealing with the ghouls head on... it seems to make little difference of how soldierly their stature is, some men just seem petrified at the sight of the flesh-eating things. But as the number of the living is much greater than that of the monsters, brave men step forth and plunge their weapons into the vile beasts, putting them down for good. Soon, the rest of the ghouls are slain... you receive reports that some of the souls lost in the attack had also began to return, but they were dispatched as well.

After the consolidation of your forces and continued patrols, men begin to shout their reports that no undead have been found in the areas that they check one by one. Slowly, more and more peasants emerge, though the women and children generally remain behind due to the grisly sights littering the local grounds.

It is reported by the bailiff of Bannon, that over 25 peasants had been killed by the horde (including the reeve, beadle, and a local monk), and 13 more are heavily injured. Some folk were bitten, mauled, or clawed numerous times, and at least one man took an arrow to the back on accident. Sir Mellard's face is tight as he surveys the chaos in his fief. A few drops of black blood fall from his sword, and he appears crestfallen for a moment. "It's worse than I thought," he murmurs. "I'll need men to retain order here, my lord. Damn it all!"

 

[bobgod]

Edwin looks around the carnage, cleaning his own blade covered in black bile. "Aye, Sir Mellard, we can not leave this place undefended. What of the levy here, is there any word from the bailiff regarding them?" The lordling pauses, "Worry not good sir, your people will be protected." Edwin leaves Sir Mellard with a pat on the back, walking towards Sir Borren, taking up conversation with him.

"I've seen pointless death before, Guy Edmond proved talented in that regard. But this.. this my good Borren, this is unholy. Evil. It does not bode well with me. If the rumors of Aussux are true, then what? In what ways can be destroy these beasts? A few of them were nothing to our organized formation, but even that small undead host shook many within our ranks. I fear a large army, perhaps one larger than our own, would break our ranks, and lead to chaos. How do we fight this, good friend?"

 

[Lorsh]

Sir Mellard takes a look around the village. "The levy must not have been able to properly muster in time- or they are just gutless knaves who shied away from the... horde," he huffs. "I could point out one or two men from the levy, but they were among the crowd," he then explains. Sir Mellard glances at the bailiff.

Sir Borren looks uneasy himself. "Well, Edwin... I do not know what will become of this Curse. Eh... is there any way of knowing? But at least we are on the right path, right now..." He takes a few moments to think. "Hm... the shield wall held against the beasts. Men will just have to work together, even if there's more ghouls. Many men are joining our ranks, but how many are joining the undead?"

 

[bobgod]

"Good Sir Borren, this day, is a day for the living!" Lord Edwin begins to speak, his voice booming to the host, hoping they would begin to rally to him. "We have faced the onslaught of despair, and by Paragon will, prevailed!" Edwin looks over, into the crowds, removing his helmet, holding it in his off hand, his sword in the other, glistening with bile in the shadowed sun, the emerald hilt piercing into the eyes of those looking upon him. "Let this be a testament to our will, that faced with hell we stood strong!" Edwin looks up to the sky, seemingly to god himself, "It is he who has delivered us, shown us the way to salvation. Only through him, dear friends, shall we prevail." Edwin's tone turns from blissfully thankful, to serious and concentrated. "But remember, the only thing between our families, and these unholy creatures is us. So long as we fight, our homes, those we love, remain safe. By his will, good men, by his will."

After the speech, Sir Edwin would set his men about setting a perimeter around the village, as well as watchmen on the main roads, with riders to deliver information quickly back to the mead house, which would become a temporary command post in the village. Then, he would set men, and villagers to begin burying the dead, and those monks and medical men still alive to treating the injured. Furthermore, he would have one of his officers take over the position of quarter master, beginning to take count of supplies, and stockpiling what the host is low on. Finally, he would assemble a great pyre in the town square, which would serve as a rallying beacon, should the men be caught completely off guard, with the host being informed of this.

Should the undead be spotted though in large droves or other unusual occurrences, the outriders are to inform the various men around the perimeter to rally in the town center at great haste, with one rider directly telling the command post.

Edwin would also petition Sir Mellard to lend any of the levies, or peasants willing, to the host, arguing that the undead horde is real, and oncoming.