Mirador stared at the milling troops, marching up and down the streets of the Evermarket. The hand on the windowsill shook gently. A strong aroma of wine emanated from him and he stumbled into the throne.
"Hibracht." He muttered, his muttering got louder, turning into a shout. "Hibracht, Hibracht, Hibracht!" He giggled and wept all at once and dropped once more. In the distance, he could hear Baggro, calling for the evacuation.
"Isn't worth it." He slurred to himself. He patted the empty wine flask. "They find us. There's nowhere to hide."
He staggered upright and went to a small wooden box. From it he drew a pistol. He primed it and picked out a bullet. He examined it closely, rolling it between his fingers and looking it over with bloodshot eyes.
He sat back in Hibracht's throne and waited, staring at the doors. A drop of wine fell from the flask and splashed on the floor, soaked with blood.
______________________________
Baggro and Valark swept through the corridors.
"Captain, you will accompany me to the gates, we will be the last to evacuate. All the people must get out safely."
Valark nodded, loading his pistol and tightening the straps on his gear. A half dozen guards followed them. Valark sheathed and holstered his sword and pistol, before opening the doors to the main chamber.
He stopped when he saw the pools of blood. Four senior merchants and the two generals lay dead on the floor. Mirador lounged in Hibracht's throne, blood soaking his leggings up to his knees and splashed across his arms.
"What did you do, Cyrus?" Whispered Baggro, his hand to his mouth.
Mirador blinked, his expression confused, like a schoolboy accused of a crime he didn't commit. Then he saw the bodies, as if for the first time and a smile of realisation and, alarmingly, relief, spread across his features.
He waved a bottle of wine, casually over the corpses. "Wasn't me." He said, his voice slightly slurred by drink. "They let one out of the study."
Valark had drawn his pistol and was pointing it directly at Mirador.
"What?"
"One of the, the thingies, the whatdyoumacallems, Generals, yes, Generals. He was fiddling with the cage in the study room and it got out. I stabbed it with my stabber, no, dagger and it ran off, but it'll be back."
Mirador giggled like a four year old boy and slid down the chair, so that he was practically lying down in the seat, his feet dipped in the blood on the floor.
Baggro gripped Valark's wrist. "The study room, we were keeping some of the beasts of the darkness in there!"
Valark nodded. He gestured to two of the guards.
"You two take the king out of the palace get him as far away as he'll permit! Now!" The men nodded and ran off.
Valark stepped in to the room, the blood was strange though, it was too runny and had become translucent. Then he noticed that Mirador was dripping.
"What is happening?" He demanded of the drunken wretch in the chair.
Mirador's face suddenly became serious, he stood up, stumbled and waved his pistol about erratically. Everyone else to a step back.
"I wanted to see the Republic back again! I wanted it to survive, d'you hear?" Mirador shouted. "Instead I see it rot from the inside. I should have blown the king's face off earlier. Hibracht had it coming to him. Bloody monster. He was worse than these things."
Just as quickly, his expression cleared. He leant in close to Valark. "As impressive a man as I am, Mr. Valark, I can't drink sixty bottles of wine and a dozen more of rum, can I? Nor can I drink oil lamps, so off you trot!"
Valark looked around, the oil lamps were lying on the floor, empty and there were dozens of bottles lying around. Suddenly it clicked.
Valark looked Mirador in the eye and handed him his own pistol.
"One for you, sir, you don't deserve to suffer, you're a brave bloody man and I pray your next life sees you with better fortune." He shook Mirador's hand firmly and then ordered the other soldiers to follow, at a run. They sprinted from the room.
_____________________________
Mirador watched the men go, smiling to himself. Gods be with you he thought, before he heard a snarling on his right. He looked and saw the behemoth beast pushing through the side doorway, the shattered remains of the door under its feet. It looked like a werewolf form that he'd saved Valark from months ago, but bigger and with the tattered remains of armour on its body. It also bore the fur pelts of dozen different types of animal at a belt hanging loosely at it side. It also had almost no fur, just sickening black skin with a few tufts of mangey hair protruding from parts of its skin.
Mirador raised his pistols. "One for you, one for me, how's that sound, eh?"
The monster blinked, confused, before it prowled forwards once more. It slipped and rolled in the liquid mess on the floor, before rising again and roaring angrily. It fell onto all fours and stepped towards Mirador, who grinned.
"Much obliged." he said and pulled the trigger of the oil, covered pistol. The gun ignited and Mirador hurled the burning weapon at the beast, who had stumbled as the bullet had struck it. Suddenly it was an inferno and the fire spread across the whole room.The central room of the palace, the wooden support beams and fine tapestries all caught ablaze. There was a grinding noise as the ceiling began to cave in.
Mirador's smiled. "For the Republic." He whispered, as he put Valark's gun to the temple of his head and fired.
OOC:
10 Transport ships created.
1000 crossbowmen trained.
as many civilians and soldiers as possible evacuated from the territory into the navy, to be evacuated to any port that will take them
"Hibracht." He muttered, his muttering got louder, turning into a shout. "Hibracht, Hibracht, Hibracht!" He giggled and wept all at once and dropped once more. In the distance, he could hear Baggro, calling for the evacuation.
"Isn't worth it." He slurred to himself. He patted the empty wine flask. "They find us. There's nowhere to hide."
He staggered upright and went to a small wooden box. From it he drew a pistol. He primed it and picked out a bullet. He examined it closely, rolling it between his fingers and looking it over with bloodshot eyes.
He sat back in Hibracht's throne and waited, staring at the doors. A drop of wine fell from the flask and splashed on the floor, soaked with blood.
______________________________
Baggro and Valark swept through the corridors.
"Captain, you will accompany me to the gates, we will be the last to evacuate. All the people must get out safely."
Valark nodded, loading his pistol and tightening the straps on his gear. A half dozen guards followed them. Valark sheathed and holstered his sword and pistol, before opening the doors to the main chamber.
He stopped when he saw the pools of blood. Four senior merchants and the two generals lay dead on the floor. Mirador lounged in Hibracht's throne, blood soaking his leggings up to his knees and splashed across his arms.
"What did you do, Cyrus?" Whispered Baggro, his hand to his mouth.
Mirador blinked, his expression confused, like a schoolboy accused of a crime he didn't commit. Then he saw the bodies, as if for the first time and a smile of realisation and, alarmingly, relief, spread across his features.
He waved a bottle of wine, casually over the corpses. "Wasn't me." He said, his voice slightly slurred by drink. "They let one out of the study."
Valark had drawn his pistol and was pointing it directly at Mirador.
"What?"
"One of the, the thingies, the whatdyoumacallems, Generals, yes, Generals. He was fiddling with the cage in the study room and it got out. I stabbed it with my stabber, no, dagger and it ran off, but it'll be back."
Mirador giggled like a four year old boy and slid down the chair, so that he was practically lying down in the seat, his feet dipped in the blood on the floor.
Baggro gripped Valark's wrist. "The study room, we were keeping some of the beasts of the darkness in there!"
Valark nodded. He gestured to two of the guards.
"You two take the king out of the palace get him as far away as he'll permit! Now!" The men nodded and ran off.
Valark stepped in to the room, the blood was strange though, it was too runny and had become translucent. Then he noticed that Mirador was dripping.
"What is happening?" He demanded of the drunken wretch in the chair.
Mirador's face suddenly became serious, he stood up, stumbled and waved his pistol about erratically. Everyone else to a step back.
"I wanted to see the Republic back again! I wanted it to survive, d'you hear?" Mirador shouted. "Instead I see it rot from the inside. I should have blown the king's face off earlier. Hibracht had it coming to him. Bloody monster. He was worse than these things."
Just as quickly, his expression cleared. He leant in close to Valark. "As impressive a man as I am, Mr. Valark, I can't drink sixty bottles of wine and a dozen more of rum, can I? Nor can I drink oil lamps, so off you trot!"
Valark looked around, the oil lamps were lying on the floor, empty and there were dozens of bottles lying around. Suddenly it clicked.
Valark looked Mirador in the eye and handed him his own pistol.
"One for you, sir, you don't deserve to suffer, you're a brave bloody man and I pray your next life sees you with better fortune." He shook Mirador's hand firmly and then ordered the other soldiers to follow, at a run. They sprinted from the room.
_____________________________
Mirador watched the men go, smiling to himself. Gods be with you he thought, before he heard a snarling on his right. He looked and saw the behemoth beast pushing through the side doorway, the shattered remains of the door under its feet. It looked like a werewolf form that he'd saved Valark from months ago, but bigger and with the tattered remains of armour on its body. It also bore the fur pelts of dozen different types of animal at a belt hanging loosely at it side. It also had almost no fur, just sickening black skin with a few tufts of mangey hair protruding from parts of its skin.
Mirador raised his pistols. "One for you, one for me, how's that sound, eh?"
The monster blinked, confused, before it prowled forwards once more. It slipped and rolled in the liquid mess on the floor, before rising again and roaring angrily. It fell onto all fours and stepped towards Mirador, who grinned.
"Much obliged." he said and pulled the trigger of the oil, covered pistol. The gun ignited and Mirador hurled the burning weapon at the beast, who had stumbled as the bullet had struck it. Suddenly it was an inferno and the fire spread across the whole room.The central room of the palace, the wooden support beams and fine tapestries all caught ablaze. There was a grinding noise as the ceiling began to cave in.
Mirador's smiled. "For the Republic." He whispered, as he put Valark's gun to the temple of his head and fired.
OOC:
10 Transport ships created.
1000 crossbowmen trained.
as many civilians and soldiers as possible evacuated from the territory into the navy, to be evacuated to any port that will take them