Active Mercenaries Harassing This Village?!

[saxon]

Hello, everyone, this RP is set in the world of Isekai Hell; you can find information about the world here.

This RP follows several characters as Aurae has settled into her role as Mayor of Lanstrich a small village in Ryke with a set of unfortnate events. Previously the former mayor was paying off mercenaries to keep the village safe and they quickly overstayed their welcome. The former mayor lost the election and the village has returned to some normalcy however travelers have mentioned armed men harassing people.
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Setting:
Locations: Lanstrich, Ryke
Time of Day: 12:00 PM
Weather: The Sun sits in the sky. There is barely a cloud in the sky as the autumn breeze blows through the village of Lanstrich

Notes: Please link your character Sheet in your first post and any point boosters. 3-4 Day rounds, I can always start a new round earlier if everyone posts sooner than expected.

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Aurae Faren

E Grade Character

Titles: Elf, Nomad, Native, Mundane

mentions: irlVector

Abilities/cooldown/Actions

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The village of Lanstrich is nestled into the north part of Ryke, which was home to a small forest and where the rest stop village was situated. Many merchants and various travelers going north to the Beastmen Republic often stopped here for a few days before continuing on with their journey. However, the village recently received some disturbing news, armed men have been seen on the outskirts of the village, though to what end has yet to be seen. The merchants have been getting uneasy as many of them who travel for a living are concerned with their wares potentially at risk. The word around the town was the mercenaries that had been hired had been fired from their former employer and could be looking for revenge if it is indeed the same individuals.

Aurae was in the village hall in her office as she looked over reports she had recieved from the local guard as well as the information from the traders and local villagers. If this keeps going the way it is this might cause some issues with the trade flowing in the region. Not to mention potential arrivals might not come, I would like to see the town grow but, if I can help it. Though if I don't handle the matter the Countess might not be pleased with me if she were to show up. She thought to herself as she pushed the papers off to the side. She let out a sigh before as she pushed the papers away from her desk then stood up. She restacked the papers before walking toward the door opening it from her office she stepped out to the main hall of the building. Her retainers milled about the room, looking at the door as she stepped out.

She gave a small signal as they fell inline with her as she exited the hall. Stepping outside the sun shined down on the village, it was warm though there was cool air on the wind. Signaling that the change of the season was coming soon. This meant that winter was well on the way to coming, and it would be here more than likely sooner than later. There was a guard by the door outside who gave her a nod at passing. "Let the villagers know that I will address them all and the concerns on recent events shortly and tell them to assemble here if they wish to hear it." Aurae spoke as the guard nodded and rushed off to pass the word along. After some time many of the villagers arrived and gathered around the stage.

Aurae took her spot on the stage with two of her retainers behind her and the rest scattered about close enough to react if they needed to. She cleared her throat, [red] "Hello everyone, I have seen the requests and the reports about the armed men that have been seen outside of town. While I cannot say for sure if they are bandits or our previous protection. But what I can tell you is that I will be handling this matter without delay. The village was founded on trade, and I would like to see that it remains. So I along with any adventurers or intrigued parties will go and speak with them and see what can be done. Now with that being said is there anyone among you who would like come along?" She inquired waiting to see who would step forward.

 

[irlVector]

Aethelred — C-grade Character
Titles: Human
Mentions: saxon
Abilities/Cooldowns/Actions
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It was around noon, with the midday sun's rays shining through the window of a relatively quiet inn—as quiet as inns can get anyway. A woman manned the bar, cleaning drinking glasses absentmindedly while whistling a small tune known only to herself. A small boy, he couldn't have been older than twelve, whizzed amidst tables and chairs with a cleaning rag at hand, wiping any existing but mostly imaginary stains. Most patrons found it endearing and let him do his job, amused at the sight.

Finishing wiping down an empty table, the boy set his sights on one occupied by a guest; from afar the man seemed down in his luck, hunched as he was over his drink, his ginger locks almost licking the surface of the beer he had ordered. As the boy approached, he noticed the man had actually laid out some coins on the table, coppers from what it seemed. With one hand enveloping the beer mug, the other slowly counting the coins, and small murmurs escaping his lips, the picture the man painted at that moment was one of complete hopelessness.

"...ninety-seven...ninety-eight...ninety-ni—excuse me." A voice yanked the man out of his reverie. He turned to see who had addressed him, only to find empty air. "Down here!" The voice exclaimed, and the man turned his sights down towards the kid, regarding it with a face that easily betrayed his current mental state.

"I'm on cleaning duties today, so I must keep the tables spotless!" He watched in silence as the boy climbed up on a stool and started wiping down the table, moving the money and his hands away to help with the process. A satisfied look of another job well done painted the boy's face upon finishing, and he looked once again at the man, one hand pointing at the beer mug in the guest's hand. "Mother said it's on the house, you seemed like you needed it!"

He turned his gaze towards the bar, only to see the woman silently going about her business. After mustering a word of thanks to the boy, he hunched down over his drink once again. He watched himself, the rippling surface of the liquid reflecting back a face as equally familiar as it was foreign. In his mind, the events of the day before replayed over and over again as he struggled to make sense of his predicament.

○ ○ ○​

His eyes fluttered open, greeted by the dim, dusty rafters of an unfamiliar ceiling. The air was thick with the scent of mildew, mingling with a metallic tang that set his nerves on edge. He groaned, his hand instinctively reaching for the back of his throbbing head, where a tender lump had already started forming. What had happened? Where was he? As he struggled to sit up, his fingers brushed against something firm. Potatoes. They were scattered around him, a few split open, their earthy smell mixing with the dampness of the cellar. Flashes of memory teased the edges of his mind—a creaking step, the sensation of falling, then darkness.

The realization crept in slowly, as if from a great distance: Aethelred. That was his name. But as the name surfaced, so did a jumble of disjointed images—laughter, a flash of light, the cold touch of steel. His head throbbed with the effort of grasping at these memories, like trying to catch mist in his hands. And then, as if whispered from the shadows, came the echo of a divine mandate: "Your mission, should you accept it, is to save the world from its perpetual stasis. Otherwise, live as you please..."

The words resonated within him, the only clear thing in the haze of his mind. Clinging to that phrase, he surveyed his surroundings, all the while piecing together what other few fragmented memories he could recall; a job—a simple task really, moving sacks of potatoes from the cart outside the house and into a cellar, albeit backbreaking, was honest work. Red could almost hear the voice of the man—Johan was his name—in his head, reminding him time and again to be careful, but he had failed to mention the rickety, rotten wooden stairs he would have Red head down.

He scanned the dimly lit cellar, its stone walls lined with cobwebs, wisps of gray fluttering in the draft from unseen cracks. Wooden shelves, sagging under the weight of dusty jars and forgotten tools, lined one side, while the opposite corner held a pile of firewood, long forgotten and overtaken by a blanket of mold, but which would find use relatively soon with the onset of winter. The single, narrow window near the ceiling allowed a sliver of light to pierce the gloom, casting elongated shadows that danced across the dirt floor.

Aethelred pushed himself to his feet, unsteady but determined. He stumbled toward the collapsed stairs, their broken remains a jagged silhouette against the faint light filtering in from above. His voice, raspy and weak, echoed in the confined space as he called out, "Old Johan! Can you hear me?" He peered up through the narrow opening, the quickly darkening afternoon sky greeting him, yet no further sounds of movement reached his ears. "Johan, it's Red! I'm stuck down here!"

Once again, silence answered him, pressing in from all sides. "There's no way he would have gone to bed already..." Aethelred's heart sank a bit at the thought of him passing the night in a musty prison. He needed to find a way out, and fast. With renewed determination, he began to search the cellar for anything that could aid his escape...

○ ○ ○​

Everything after that had been a blur. The first set of yelling, that of the old man upon finding his stairs broken and him balancing atop a makeshift tower of barrels, trying to reach the cellar opening, had positively blown his eardrums off; the second set of yelling coming from the old man's wife, berating both of them—the husband because he'd failed to properly check the damaged stairs, and Red because he'd put himself in danger with his stunts—had obliterated all that was left of his hearing.

And yet, his face grew a faint smile as he thought back at it; the experience had grounded him at that moment, forcing him to temporarily put away any needless thoughts in favor of immediate reconciliation. They'd ended up offering him to stay the night, which he accepted. Warm food and a roof with a bed to sleep on had helped him immensely at that moment, allowing him to organize his mind. The morning after, Johan—with a forced smile on his face—had handed him a small pouch of coins before summarily kicking Red out of his house.

He'd wandered around town for a while, taking in scenery that, again, was familiar yet entirely new to his eyes. Under the, then, morning sun, the village lay quiet and open, with only a few clouds dotting the sky. A light autumn breeze rustled through the cobblestone streets, bringing a hint of chill and the earthy smell of fallen leaves. Red wandered through the heart of the town, where half-timbered houses lined the streets, their roofs a patchwork of repair from years of weathering. The market, though not bustling yet, had a steady flow of villagers browsing stalls that offered simple wares: fresh produce, homespun fabrics, and basic tools were among some of the things being sold.

Soon enough, however, the low growling of an empty stomach, paired along with the sun's rays steadily getting stronger as the day passed, had forced him to head towards an inn, seeking something to ease his appetite. He'd ordered some food and a beer to wash it down, however after finishing eating, something that could only be explained as an existential crisis had soured his mood once again. "How am I supposed to survive with only my name and a few scant memories... and then there's that memory..."

In an attempt to distract himself, Red had started counting the coins Johan had given to him—probably as compensation for the cellar situation at the behest of his wife—and that was when the boy had brought him back to his senses. After the kid had finished with his work, a man hurriedly entered the inn, called upon all to gather in front of the village hall as per the mayor's word, and then quickly left to spread the word elsewhere. Red, having nothing really better to do, followed suit with the rest of the patrons, soon finding himself amidst the rest of the townsfolk who, at the direction of the guards, had formed a small crowd in front of a stage.

The armor-clad, white haired woman addressing the crowd struck quite the image; her words spoke of armed men harassing people in the vicinity of the town, with the murmurs of the people around him seemingly backing her claim. As the woman talked, Red's mind raced—were one to study his face at that moment, they were bound to notice the rapid shifting of emotions going on inside that head of his. "Where there's danger, there is also opportunity, and for one with nothing to his name, I can only go forward..."

With a determined look on his face, Red raised his arm high up to signal the mayor, then walked towards the stage.

"I'd like to volunteer, if that is possible. I believe I could be of help to your cause."

 

[heartspan]

Rosette Louvier
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Rosette sat up in bed her eye lids still heavy with sleepiness. For a moment she sat motionless, wondering whether or not she should go back to bed. Then very lazily she climbed free of the warm blankets into the chill of her room. She gave a little shiver as the chill of the wood floor gripped her bare feet. She clutched her arms to her chest as she made her way over to the window. She slid the curtains wide taking in the muted predawn light as she Looked down on the street below from her room on the second floor of the inn. she rubbed her upper arms trying to get some of the warmth back as she watched the few people wandering about at such an early hour. Leaving the curtains wide she went into the small bathroom to begin her morning routine. an hour and a half saw her teeth brushed, hair fixed, and maid uniform dawned complete with hairband and apron. Among her many morning chores she carefully inspected her rifle before loading it and setting it to the side. Lastly she slipped on her sturdy black traveler's ankle boots. She grabbed the key to her room, her rifle, and magazine bag. Her backpack she left next to the bed. Then very quietly she slipped from her room, locking the door and slinging the key around her neck with the leather thong attached to it.

Rosette made her way to the Inn's kitchen where the Inn keeper, A woman in her early thirties was hard at work prepping food for the day. The woman's young son dashed here and there helping her to prepare for the days work. Rosette set her rifle and magazines on an empty table in the far back of the kitchen.

" Madam, what would you like me to do for you today?" Rosette asked politely as she turned to face the woman hard at work prepping a stew for the lunch crowd.

Rosette's sudden words caught the woman off guard and she gave a little start.

" Goodness! Rosette, you're quiet as ghost I swear!" She exclaimed in surprise. " Wasn't today your day off?"

Rosette nodded as she grabbed a small piece of day old bread, a hunk of cheese, and began to snack. She had come into Lanstrich with a traveling merchant she had been hired to protect, but she had been unable to leave due to the mercenaries that had begun to make trouble outside of town. She hadn't much money and had struck a deal with the Inn keeper to work in exchange for a room and meals. So far it had worked out fine as far as Rosette was concerned. The inn keeper was nice and her son was a sweetheart who liked to help his mom.

" I don't mind helping out, I don't have anything else to do." Rosette replied as she finished her little breakfast

" Mmm, just until lunch prep is done, I don't want you over working yourself." The Innkeeper declared in a very motherly tone.

Rosette nodded once in reply and got to work setting up for the lunch time crowd. The morning blew by and soon enough the inn keeper and her son disappeared to the front to clean and prep for the lunch rush. Her tasks completed Rosette washed her hands in the dish sink. Her attention flicked from her hands to the kitchen door as it swung open giving her a glimpse of the dinning hall. Her ruby red eyes caught sight of a rather down trodden fellow. The Innkeeper dished him a plate of food and as she did so she asked Rosette to pour a mug of beer.

Rosette quickly and carefully filled the mug giving it to the Innkeeper who darted efficiently out and into the dinning hall. Rosette watched as she served the plate and mug to the lonely looking man before returning to her duties at the bar in the front. Her son dashed here and there cleaning the tables to spotless perfection or what passed for such in the eyes of a twelve year old. Rosette dished herself a bowl of stew and a mug of ale, eating at the table in the back that passed as a break room, the one that also held her things. Once her lunch was finished Rosette carefully washed her bowl cup and spoon before grabbing her things. She slung her magazine purse across her shoulders to hang on her left side, her rifle she hung on her right shoulder. Just as she was stepping out of the kitchen a man hurriedly entered the inn, called upon all to gather in front of the village hall at the mayor's request, and then quickly left to spread the word elsewhere.

Rosette followed the crowd only a few paces behind the beleaguered man she had watched earlier in the inn. They joined the throng of villagers standing before a stage. After a few moments an elvish woman clad in armor, platinum hair glistening in the sunlight ascended the stage with two of her guards. She cut an imposing figure as she began to speak.

"Hello everyone, I have seen the requests and the reports about the armed men that have been seen outside of town. While I cannot say for sure if they are bandits or our previous protection. But what I can tell you is that I will be handling this matter without delay. The village was founded on trade, and I would like to see that it remains. So I along with any adventurers or intrigued parties will go and speak with them and see what can be done. Now with that being said is there anyone among you who would like come along?" the woman announced

Before she could even think the sad man from earlier stepped forward his arm raised to signal to the woman on the stage.

"I'd like to volunteer, if that is possible. I believe I could be of help to your cause." the man's deep voice boomed.

Rosette was glad something was going to be done about the mercenaries, she was more than ready to continue on her wanderings. The town was pleasant but very small. It reminded her of her home town, but it was not her destiny to remain here and her wanderlust had begun to gnaw at her. She nodded her head to herself one time, a very slight gesture of affirmation. She too would help. Rosette stepped forward quietly, making her way toward the stage very professionally. She noted the positioning of the elf maiden's guards, a habit of hers, and soon she stopped next to the other volunteer. She gave a deep and dignified curtsy.

" Madam, This Rosette will also assist you!" She declared in her light sweet voice. She remained in her curtsy for several heartbeats before rising to her full height.