[Team T2] Chapter 7 Homebase: The Large Town of Saint-Nsara, Aquittany
As Salome’s thunderbolts surround and befall Eustachio, Jolie takes her greatsword and points it towards the remaining soldiers in the northwest of the town. “Your commander has been slain!” she calls forth. “Surrender now or be destroyed by our hands!” Those soldiers look to one another and lower their weapons; the mages neatly place their tomes into the soft grass. “... in the face of such power,” one of the lance-wielding soldiers begins, “We have no choice but to accept your mercy and, accordingly, surrender to you.” Jolie exhales and lowers her own weapon in response, her eyes widening. “Surprising,” she mutters, “Very well, much of your weapons will go to the militias in the area, and you will be handed over to one of Nicomedian troops or local lords.” The lance-wielder continues, “For someone who is considered a demon by our own lord, to think you would do this for us is also a surprise.” She sniffs. “Everyone, tie them up, and have them fed minimal rations while I try to locate nearby authorities.”
She hauls her sword over her shoulder and begins to tap her chin at the state of affairs. “Seeing things as they are here in Aquittany, however, I may have to be wary about contacting the lords in the area. Why on God’s Earth were there paladins and other heavy cavalry among the adversaries if they are not nobility or tied to them somehow? And with those deserters we had faced back in Pontivy, even turning them into the Empire might not be a guarantee. Regardless, something must be done,” she thinks.
As she rests near one of the palisades, the smoke and smolders of the town begin to recede, quenched by the bucket brigades that crossed here-and-there in the town. Jolie smiles as the conflagrations of war cease. A man wearing quality, somewhat shiny clothes approaches Jolie. “You must be the commander of the troops who came to save us. I’ve never seen mercenaries so generous. My name is Erwann, and I am one of the council members of this town.” The commander smiles weakly. “I’m afraid we are not mercenaries, Sir. We are a militia hailing from the Duchy of Forêt, and you are correct in believing that I am its commander.” Erwann’s eyes open. “So it’s true…” he steps back and holds a hand upward for a moment, his mouth somewhat agape. “There is a militia going about the lands of Aquittany, come to our kingdom to save it from the cruelty of this pretender-king!” Jolie’s eyes widen somewhat in response, “No, you have the wr-” she begins to say quietly, under her breath.
“What was it that Arkis had told me about how my reputation can also bring people to victory? By being a rallying point? I don’t have to lie…” Jolie thinks. She pretends to cough, scratches the back of her head, and throws a leg forward, trying to act casual. “Yeah, that could be us. Our goal is to return to our liege, Princess-Bishop Honorine, and then free our lands from the clutches of the raiders. But we do need a place to rest for a while-” Erwann salutes, “Anything for your quest, to defeat the false king Lothair! Stay as long as you like. I should warn you, I have been hearing that war is brewing between Forêt and the duchy neighboring it, Neustria. Something about reclaiming old lands? The duchess of Neustria has been plotting for some time to do under Princess-Bishop Honorine, if rumors are to be believed. With how madness has gripped our land, who knows what to believe?”
“In me, of all things,” Jolie thinks while closing her eyes. “We accept your hospitality!” she manages warmly. “And thank you for housing us for now.”
Elsewhere in Aquittany, a tall, armored woman paces the room of a large, stone castle on a hill, and for a moment puts her hand on an office desk. Rain splatters against the window, as though it were a waterfall. “Weather is strange of late. It does not rain this much in November, usually.” A cloaked individual walks into the room. “Ma’am,” he greets, “This is for you,” the cloaked man says as he drops a notebook on the desk. The woman, towering above the cloaked man, smirks, and throws aside her bangs. She takes the notebook, and sits down. After a few minutes of reading, she clenches her fist as it shakes, “So… it’s true, then.” the noblwoman deadpans. “Lucilia Claudius is alive, and she has apparently gained popularity with commoners as-” She struggles for a moment for words, stammering some, ” ‘Saint Jolie Martel’. But… her violent ways have not subsided, if your report that she had a brutal confrontation with one of her own soldiers is to be believed. It has to be the meddling of that Emperor Manilius that she still lives as she does. Remain in the castle and make preparations to go to Pontivy. I will now make plans to deal with both ‘King’ Lothair and this disgrace of a human being. I will make good the House d’Burdigala and bring justice to Gratia…”
“By your will, Princess Jeanne,” the spy says as he leaves the room.
She stands up and salutes her subject.
The Large Town of Saint-Nsara, Aquittany
A large farming community in Aquittany, the outskirts of this region are damaged from raids, troop movements, and recent strange weather happenings. The town itself, the parts which have not burned down, is fairly prosperous and clean. Our troops are offered rooms in vacant houses, as some of the townsfolk have fled southward to avoid the ongoing crisis. The most notable feature of this town is the large, towering obelisk in the village green, depicting a small warrior in battle with a fire-breathing, winged dragon.
You have 3 AP this homebase.