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Lordling (Vizierdrake)

"We'll have to go check for ourselves how many volunteers and drifters we can scrape up. As for the levies... we could probably raise... fifty militia at most, but this would take a day or two to fully mobilize," Sir Crannic guesses. "Most of our levies will be spearmen. There are scant woodlands in our domains, aside from the small forest south of Charondale. Some of the men from there may equip themselves as archers, but probably not too many." You know that there are archery competitions in Charondale, but they're none too spectacular. Few men take up the bow in your domains; in the past there have been some strict limitations on poaching, so that your family can still enjoy hunting from time to time. Still, a few peasants treat it as a pleasure sport, or use archery to hunt less restricted game such as rabbits or partridges.

Your advisors listen to the proposal on how to induct more soldiers into your household army. "Aye, that could work," Sir Nyren nods. "Every man will be looking to our House for guidance in these dark times."

Sir Crannic hums. "However... there is still a manorial jury in each village. If one family believes they are being cheated by this system, they may raise a fuss." Each village court was populated with the most well-to-do serfs, who were usually family elders, reeves, and other assistants to the local master & his bailiff. There was a bit of autonomy for the commons, in theory...

Your steward continues. "Reducing taxes is a start, but these new policies may be... easier to implement, if the village juries are somehow appeased or suspended." Obviously, a lord could simply ignore them entirely, but the villfolk like to think their juries represent them. "As for the lodging, we can certainly build another quarters." Though there aren't vasts forests around, trees are reasonably plentiful if small buildings need to be made.
 
Meleagan sighs at the mention of the juries "This system is virtuous, hopefully they'll get it. If not well I'll try to convince them. And if they're to thick to understand the situation, I won't mind bypassing their approval."

He starts to get up "Spearmen, archers, anything goes. We will do with what we have." Now standing up he towers both of his household officers. "First of all, the announces. Depending on the people's reaction, the nature and exact number of your detachment will vary."

The castellan was ready to end the meeting session and go.
 
You and your advisors conclude the meeting, and prepare to ride down to Charondale vill. Sir Nyren brings along a handful of household guards as extra protection in these uncertain times. The men mount up, and the ride to the town center of Charondale. The inn is nearby, a stout, two-storey lodge with several horses in its attached stables.

A few people stop their everyday tasks, and turn to watch their lord ride into their village. A few of your men split off, and call for the tenants to gather around to hear your decrees. Soon enough, serfs and freemen from around the village have assembled. Though this crowd surely isn't the entire population of Charondale and its surrounding hamlets, news will surely spread of whatever words you give today.

"Hark! Your lord shall speak," Sir Nyren calls to the gathered peasants. A few assorted travelers step out of the inn; the arrival of your affinity was a curiosity.
 
The black noble cloak over his shoulders, Meleagan is riding one of the personal horses of the family, his favorite one. A young adult sweet-tempered stallion coated in a mainly white to light grey fur, tail and lower halves of legs black, as well as his muzzle and a stripe running from his nostrils to his mane, which was rather long and of the same charcoal shade. The lordling waited for his subjects to assemble in the grassy and sandy plazza of Charondale village. His customary impassible expression was on, here to hide his nervousness. In addition to the particular situation of these last days, Meleagan is and has always been quite uncomfortable to be the center of attention in public, in front of strangers particularly when they were so many. He huffed to grant himself some focus. He was the soon-to-be lord, and they were common folk. They were looking at him from below, both spatially and symbolically speaking. And now they were waiting for him to speak. He frowned and slightly nodded to sir Nyren before clearing his throat.

"People of Charondale, I present myself before you to announce the lordship's response to the current events unfolding currently in the region. As you probably already know, an evil thing is at play, making the deads rise up, beasts and animals as much as humans. These undeads are soulless creatures, nothing more than ambulating corpses driven by stranger foulish designs." The castellan caught some clueless gazes in the assembly during a slight blank of less than a second.
"In other words, they are monsters with no real feelings. You are all aware of what we started enacting yesterday already, and we are going to follow up with further measures for the duration of the crisis, at least until they prove themselves useless."

"First of all, the Ban, as well as most of the taxes will be suspended or reduced regarding the circumstances, for all inhabitants of the domain. This is a harsh period we are all about to go through, and I am fully aware of how tough it'll be for many of you. Our duty is to ensure the domain's security and future prosperity, and are my only goals."

"We are going to operate a centralization-... Uhm. We are going to gather the domain's foodstuff and control its distrubition to try and make sure that everyone, even the most humbles, gets the necessary, and no one is being unreasonable, in short to prevent any harmful waste. Thus, everyone is ordered to hand all reserves they might have to the community, represented by the Vizierdrake's black serpent and those who bear it."
Meleagan then proceeds explaining what was the priority order, and enumerates it. First the ruling class, House Vizierdrake and its vassals. Then the foodkeepers and their families. Then the army. Then the castle staff. Then the rest of commonfolk, with priority to serfs over freemen, and tells his wish to provide priority to the most destitutes.

He then calls for all freemen of the domain. "In these dark times, I have no choice but to enact the levy of all those who aren't concerned by serfdom. We will need every one able to defend our homes and families, to put an end to the evil cursing our land. I want, all of you, ready to take up arms and join the struggle in the shortest terms. Most of you won't be sent anywhere far from your houses, as it is essentially to defend them I want you prepared. Tomorrow morning, I want you with all equipment you may have gathered in this very place." Of course Meleagan would also send some men to mobilize the freemen even those who stayed at home or didn't hear the speech nor the news. "If there are brave men willing to fight for their home who happens to be serves, they also are welcome and their dedication will be remembered."

"Finally, to every person who might hear me, who might hear of my words, be advertized that House Vizierdrake's army is in great search of valorous people, wanting to prove said valor, or merely wishing for some reason to serve our noble cause. We are recruiting retainers, free folks as much as serves, even outsiders of the lordship. In addition to the stable income of soldier, guaranteed food and board, it has been decided that a retainer's family will have the same priority as the army regarding food order. And, the more retainers a family has, the higher they rank in the order. This is the perfect time to start a career in the military, Paragon will bless you for fighting the evil ordeal we are being put through."

After the end of his speech, Meleagan would observe the crowd's reactions and slightly glance at Nyren.
 
The crowd's expressions were somber as you told them the grim reality of the situation- and occasionally confused by your...bookish manner of speaking. Though, even in this horrifying world of undeath, the peasants have reason to be merry about tax suspensions (especially the notorious Ban). The talk of rationing and drafts is met with a few murmurs here and there, but nobody dared raise a voice in dissent; the feodal contract was simple, and you had a few retainers accompanying you. The family crest on their tunics and the swords on their belts served as a reminder of your lordly authority.

Your offer of employment seems to pique the interest of quite a few peasants, mostly serfs. The freemen, of course, are already bound by the levy to provide able bodies, so they may have found the offer less enticing.

The crowd is silent for a few moments, before the local bailiff, Old Alvor, begins to speak on their behalf. "The vill of Charondale thanks Lord Meleagan for his presence," he says. "We all have preparations to make, for the days ahead. Now, I think some of you lads ought to join up with him, what do you say?"


Those willing to immediately volunteer now present themselves, and thirty-one heads can be counted. Six are strangers from the inn, the rest of the volunteers come from servile families have extra sons to spare, others are the village's poor cotters looking for more meaningful employment than gardening next to their hut.

These volunteers are mostly rabble at the moment, having no training or familiarity with arms, and their 'weapons' being repurposed hand tools and agricultural equipment. Still, they seem eager enough to serve, and Sir Nyren estimates that even more men could be mobilized if a day or so was spent visiting the outlying Charondale hamlets.

One of the strangers hails you, and comes closer. It is a gray-haired, portly man in a simple leather jerkin. "I am Carrick, m'lord. Me and my boys- there are only six of us, but we fancy ourselves proper crossbowmen, and are looking for good work," he offers.
 
The castellan holds back a sigh of relief, it eventually went pretty well. After his first apprehensions, the coherent flow of his thoughts allowed him to speak naturally, forgetting the attention he was raising. And there wasn't any noticeable incident.

Meleagan asks the voluteers for being recruited to be driven to the castle's quarters and gathered there, where they shall be interrogated about their experiences and the equipments they have, as well as about their families' situations. Those bearing some useful experience and, or, possessing some decent equipment will be recruited in priority. The levies on the other hand, like stated in the speech, shall be gathered tomorrow morning in the plazza.

He then orders that everything he said has to be relayed in Charondale's hamlets, town criers or retainers should do it just fine. Maybe after he's done with Charondale vill Meleagan will visit Nostron and Pelwic himself to spread the word.

Once the crowd has started scatter, Meleagan comes to Carrick and his men.
"Crossbowmen you say ? Mhm. If it's work your looking for I will certainly find how to give you some. Now what is it you are offering, and for what price ?"
 

A few runners are dispatched to the other vills, to relay the lord's decrees. The group of volunteers are ordered into a simple formation by a few of your horsemen, and begin the march back up to the castle.

Carrick nods, and grins. "Aye, m'lord. Me and my lads have our own horses tethered in the stables- we use 'em to carry our kit. No need to spare a wagon for us, o'course- you just hafta worry about pointing us towards whomsoever you think needs a quarrel in his eye. Now, I think sixpence a day for each of my lads (36sp/day total) is reasonable, m'lord- and mayhap a small token to start off our enlistment. Does sixty silver sound well and good, m'lord?" the mercenary inquires. Though his men are wearing their casual clothing at the moment, Carrick assures you that each man has a quiver of extra bolts, a proper mail shirt, gambeson, and at least a half-decent sword as a sidearm.
 
The lordlings listen to them but isn't thrilled by the price these mercenary sell themselves for. He glances at Carrick's "lads" before resuming to him.
"Let's talk directly. I don't question your ability to stick quarrels in others' heads, nor your fierceness in battle, but the kind of men I want to send over are the kind that I can rely on to follow my house's orders and defend it's interests without condition. I'm fully aware you need to earn yourselves a living, but on my end I would need some sort of assurance of your future faithful behaviors. After a quick estimation, I'd say a salary of about three coins a day in addition to your starting fee would be more than reasonable."

Holding an elbow in his opposite hand, rubbing his chin with the other, Meleagan segues "Otherwise, I might have another job for you than sending you on the field under my name. I could consider hiring you to help train my troops."
 
Carrick is willing to move to the side, out of earshot from the rest, if you so chose. He listens to your concerns, and nods. "Hm. Five silver can be done... but not lower," he informs you. He posits that five silver would be similar to the wages of a mounted archer on retainment. "We brought our berry brown steeds, our own equipment- it saves you a great deal of worry, your lordship. As for helping that other lot shape up, aye, that can take time." He scratches his stubble, and inquires about the nature of the training. "Were your lads needing training with the crossbow? Or do you just need some of the... fresh-faced ones taught a few basics?"
 
"Mhm." Meleagan has started walking with Carrick, gaze slightly lowered towards the ground. "Times are harsh, good Carrick. I must reduce the risks we are taking as much as reasonably doable. Thus I have two offers for you and your men."

The lordling turns to face him "I could hire your services in my army and send you over with my own men, with a more... original contract than the usual. The first week, you will receive two silvers per day. A salary that is doubled, four silvers then, for the second week. On the third week you will be paid six coins each day. Then height coins, double of the second week's salary, on the fourth week. And so on, up to ten, maybe twelve coins a day at some point. Proceeding this way, I can have a clearer idea about both your efficiency and loyalty, and be assured that if you lads prove yourselves worthy, I would pay you double as much as a mercenary would be, and on a longer term."

He pauses for a second before continuing. "Or, I could hire you to train my troops here in Charondale. Training with the crossbow, the bow, basics of a warror's life would be good too. You won't be sent on field, and won't be expected to risk your lives for my house. You'll be lodged and fed, and so will receive a salary similar to our retainers at the castle."
 
Carrick raises an eyebrow as you give your rather unorthodox offer. He seems a little intrigued at first, but then seems to grow a tad suspicious about it. "M'lord, what shall be asked of us in the coming days?" he questions. "You see, the omens are bad- I sense great dangers, and so we must humbly ask for what we are worth. Five silvers per day, at the least... Though, we would gladly accept a token for our faithful service later on, m'lord. Next week, seven silvers, and the next, it could stop at... eight," he shrugs. "Even lads like us could use steady work, every once in awhile."
 
Meleagan slightly shakes his head "Unfortunately you don't seem to fully get the point of my proposal. It's true it isn't a very common one."

"Well, let me tell you my last offer. For five coins per day, I hire you and your men. While the five others will accompagny my army on the field, you will stay here to train my recruits." the castellan says to Carrick out of his lads' earshot. "You won't put yourself in danger here. And, if eventually I am completely satisfied of your little company's job, I might as well increase the salary."
 
Carrick shakes his head. "I understood it all, but we could all be sent to our dooms before our wages get any better," he points out. "And well, though I would say aye to that, we are just six men, not a proper company. How does that saying about lordship go? We're peers, first among, ah, equals. I would have to go where my men go, or I wouldn't hear the end of it. Besides, I keep them in line." He smiles, perhaps hoping he has not tried your patience yet. "But aside from that little detail... methinks that it would be a fine contract. Of course, we could all be called back to train them later."
 
Meleagan would take some more minutes to think this over. Before sighing and finally nodding, getting back on his noble steed
"Fine. We have a deal then." The castellan took the reins of his horse in handsn towering the head of the crossbowmen band from his height "You and your men will be directly under the orders of my captain, sir Nyren over here. And let me be very clear : while loyalty might be rewarded, treason shall be punished with the utmost severity. Compared to me, Paragon may be timid when it comes to chastisement."

He left Carrick on these evocative words.
He would then eventually come to sir Nyren and go on with the following of the mobilization in the other villages and surroundings of Charondale.
 
Carrick is quick to reiterate his assurance of loyalty. He and his men give respectful bows to your household captain as he is introduced as the Vizierdrakes detachment commander. "You know, lads..." Sir Nyren decides to invite the men to ride with them while they complete the arraying of the villfolk. Carrick agrees and receives instructions for his men to assist in rounding up villagers to listen to the lordly decrees.

Charondale Mercenaries [+6 Veteran Crossbowmen (Mounted)]

Charondale Volunteers [+48 Peasant Rabble]

Charondale Levies [+20 Footmen] & [+5 Hobelars]

Your affinity ride on to visit the villages of Nostron and Pelwic. Horsemen are dispatched as-needed to help relay word to the surrounding lands, with only the most obscure hamlets being left unchecked. Pelwic, despite being the second-largest village, contributes the most men. Sir Eatton and Bailiff Lonwald had taken some initiative after a few small-scale undead attacks, and raised a number of spearmen and general patrols to keep watch on the village before you arrived. "Take whatever lads you need, your lordship."

Nostron Volunteers [+24 Peasant Rabble]

Pelwic Volunteers [+49 Peasant Rabble] & [+20 Peasant Spearmen]

1591464067297.png

Sir Nyren lightly muses that the peasants in Charondale are more squeamish than others from the smaller and poorer vills. He takes note of the fact that some of the Footmen brought along a few personal short bows, however these are of dubious military value due to their poor quality.

You are able to survey the levy of each village. However, this mobilization takes up the majority of the day, and the evening is creeping in.

Nostron Levies [+13 Footmen]

Pelwic Levies [+15 Footmen] & [+3 Hobelars]

1591465035997.png

​
 
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After a long day spent in the mobilization of his domain's forces, Meleagan rides back to Charondale castle, his brainpower focused on the organization of the levy and volunteers they managed to raise on that first day. What they got wasn't too bad in the end, but now who would be sent over and who shall be kept in Vizierdrake territory ?
According to the messenger, the company following Harwood was of about eightscore men in total. Surely, he won't send the same amount. Even if those he will send will follow Nyren in his name, the castellan himself won't be here to survey the unfolding of the operation, and ultimately Harwood might see himself as the leader of that throng he is gathering. However, Meleagan wanted this detachment he was sending for the effort to count in itself as a force to be reckoned with, he wanted his influence to weight in the events that shall occur farther from Charondale, and in the decisions of that Edwin Harwood. Thus, the participation of House Vizierdrake shall make a decisive amount of that improvized alliance. If the men of Charondale were to form, let's say a third of the army, surely Harwood won't be able to bypass Nyren's judgement and the interests he is representing. This could be a comfortable start, to test the waters before trying something of bigger scale. And, after that, Meleagan could still come himself later at the head of more men wearing his colors. For now he had to stay here, changes were being made in his domain and he had to keep an eye on how they were being enacted. Or maybe I could let lord Leogan take care of this ? He shook his head with a slight joyless smirk, Nyren and other men riding by his sides as they were climbing the mound on which was laying the castle. Of course this never was and never will be an option, despite the title He, Meleagan Vizierdrake, was the true lord of the Vizierdrake domain. Though, the thought that ran through his mind for a second did woke another one, linked to the former. After all, there was still his mother, and even his sister. He did talk to them about what he's been working on these past two days, at the dining table mostly. If he was to leave the domain to represent in person the name of the House, they could decently run things in his absence. Maybe he should have a word with them on the matter.

The lordling finally arrived at his home of dark grey stones. The number of potential fighters raised and the composition of the levy has been reviewed, and Meleagan delivered to his household captain the composition of the detachment he'll be at the head of as soon as tomorrow :
The 6 mounted crossbowmen mercenaries, 44 freemen made of 40 footmen and 4 light horsemen, 20 peasant spearman to whom will be given the six padded armors left in the armory. Nyren would be left free as to decide who among them shall wear these, maybe draw lots, maybe each day the armors shall go to a different man, or, ideally, the armors shall be given to the most skilled fighters. To that, will be added 16 retainer footmen from the household, for a total of 86 men.
Which means, 121 "rabble", 8 levy footmen and 4 light horsemen will stay in the domain. The 22 spears left in the armory shall be given to 22 rabble willing to become retainers. Thanks to the 16 freed slots and 8 already free places in the quarters, we will be able to lodge all of them. Still, more quarters shall be built, along with the production of enough padded armors for each retainers and more, and of more spears and possibly other weapons for the future recruits.
"Sir Nyren" would say the castellan after exposing all the numbers "It would be of great aid if you could keep an eye on the levy and volunteers accompanying you, to discern the most capables among them, those who could be full soldiers of worth, maybe even better." The lordling would hold back a yawn, moving his wrist in front of his mouth before blinking "On that note, I will see you tomorrow for your last instructions."
 
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Sir Nyren is pleased that you were able to raise more men than originally anticipated. "My Lord, some of these lads are rather green. There are some good men in the castle staff that I want to bring along, to help me organize the detachment." Your captain goes on to outline several senior retainers that he personally trusts, and ultimately he requests that 5 Heavy Footmen be promoted to Horsemen and be included in the detachment. "And yes, I will of course keep an eye on the best fighters, and ensure that no man's valor in these dark days goes unrewarded."
 
Meleagan is hesitant about sir Nyren's request, if something bad happens here Charondale would better have experienced fighter to defend them. But he trusts his captain's battle knowledge. "Very well. You'll get to pick five of them. Be careful with the horses, they are precious."

The castellan then leaves for the stairway leading to the main area of the keep, which is in the way to his room. Maybe lady Syllei or Moonei is there.
 
Sir Nyren bows thankfully and walks out to make the necessary preparations.

Walking back into the keep, you can see your sister sitting at the table, where a pitcher of wine from the cellar is set. She holds a goblet aloft in one hand. "Lord Brother," she greets. Her hair does not look as well-kempt as it typically does, but she wears her usual red and blue cote with silver trim. "You are mending the issue with the Abyss rising across the land?" She looks to be in a dour mood... there is a spill on the floor but no servants around to clean it up- she must have ordered them away.
 
"Lord" Meleagan pauses for a second as he emerges from the stairway and enters the area, seeing his younger sister, alone at the table, seemingly not in her best mood. He walks towards then by the table, spreading a hand on half of his face holding back a sigh. "If it was not yet another show of snide sarcasm from you, little sister, you could almost make me feel like I'm controlling the situation. Hopefully it's true." He shrugs, and his hand swoops a second goblet, before he grabs the pitcher and pours the dark beverage up to half of the cup.

"You seem to be in one of your murky days this evening." He remarks, throwing a glance at her before bringing the goblet's edge to his lips.
 
Moonei chuckles sardonically. "These are all murky days," she murmurs, taking a sip. "...even if the actual weather is not mentioned, this is horrible." She takes in a deep breath, and doesn't make much eye contact. "The dead are coming back to life... and if I die from fright, it would even happen to me." She looked over her shoulder, then glanced at the doors and stairway for a moment. "And our father... he is old- what if it happens to him?" Her mind seems to be racing. "I know mother has mentioned as much..."
 
"It won't happen to him. For the sole and good reason that, if it does, what would be moving would not be him, but a lifeless bag of rotting flesh." He coldly states before taking an alcoholic sip. "There's no use in worrying about that. Our father, while old and nearly as smart as a cow, is still alive ; the day will come where his spirit will join the Paragon, like it does for every one of us, but it hasn't come yet, and that's it." He says looking down at the goblet he's holding in one hand, now filled to only a quarter.
 
Your answers rarely fully satisfy Moonei, but she huffs and doesn't press the subject further. "I suppose..." She takes a moment to look up at the Vizierdrake coat of arms hanging nearby, then back to you. "What of those Harwoods? I hear they are now fancying themselves as heroes." Your sister generally has a way of figuring out your business unless she's explicitly forbidden to pry into something. She smiles, optimistic for a second. "I think it's a good idea to assist him, at least. And say, Lord Edwin is a bachelor."
 
"Fascinating. I hope he'll agree to marry me." her big brother finishes his cup of wine and sets it on the table. He leaves his hand on it, eyes gazing at his fingers then at the young lady "That is what I hear too, and it keeps bugging me. It would be easy for a little noble a little too ambitious to claim for all the glory if there is no one to contest it. That's why I've been thinking about joining them in person if the circumstances show themselves to be favorable enough."
His eyes focus into those of his sister "Thus leaving the domain in your and our mother's hands during my absence."
 
"Well, you know, Lord Brother... If you end up dying alongside Master Harwood, that will be the end of your story." Occasionally your sister referred to members of less 'ancient' houses(1) as... alternative titles, even if they weren't technically such. 'Master' was generally reserved for those who weren't proper lords, be they high-ranking commoners, or even castellans like you- you weren't spared from this treatment either, except in your case it was more accurate.

"I... suppose, I could manage these lands if you went away." You know she's reasonably capable. She talks a great deal, but she also knows how to listen. "What if they just all perish? And then you die too?" she asks. "It might not be the undead. They wouldn't get you. But someone could kill you. The Stromwood Barony is filled with boors, after all... Midduch is aflow with boors. Are you sure you remember how to use your sword?" You see in her eyes that she is ultimately nervous, however...

(1) You know that the Harwoods were promoted from the ranks of the commons some generations ago.
 
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