Author Topic: A Call to Arms  (Read 170 times)

Mat

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A Call to Arms
« on: January 22, 2019, 02:49:35 PM »
Mat glared at the four wheeled horseless conveyance that screamed by him down the cobblestone street. Car. Automobile. He'd heard many different names for the metal boxes that spewed disgusting fumes into the air. They clogged up the streets and moved far faster than he felt was safe in a city where so many walked. There had been a time not so long ago that he had been presented with such a vehicle for use in his long-haul trading and he had dismissed it after only a cursory look.

Humans weren't entirely to blame. He had seen all manner of beings operating them. But it was just like the human race to invent something that was so toxic to nature in so many ways from the noxious emissions to the fluids that they dripped and even the roads built for them. Not to mention the grating thrum of their engines, squeal of the wheels, and all of the other noises those without sensitive ears were obviously deaf to.

"Awful, aren't they?"

The voice in the alley behind him was a low, gravely rasp. The half-orc didn't turn away form his absent perusal of the street. It was cold enough out that there were few on the streets. With his thick skin all he needed was a decent jacket over his usual tunic.

"I would be very pleased if this plan of yours works," the voice went on. "It is long past time someone stepped up."

Mat's fingers tapped against his thigh in a steady, rhythmic beat. "We'll see," he replied quietly, knowing the keen ears of his shadow-cling companion would hear. "You saw how little they responded to the fires in the marketplace. Perhaps they simply do not care."

The being behind him laughed. "Perhaps not. You do. Others will rise with you."

Mat rose from the bench where he was sitting.

"We shall see..." He said as he walked off. There was a great deal to be done.

Mat

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Re: A Call to Arms
« Reply #1 on: January 27, 2019, 03:15:16 PM »
"How many?" Mat asked the man standing at his shoulder as he crouched down to examine the blood soaked snow. The body that had caused it had been removed to one of the medical centers, the lone survivor of the raid. It had been a futile attempt as the man died in transit. There was another half dozen bodies scattered around the dockside warehouse grounds. A whole crew of a trading ship that was getting set to leave the harbor.

"Eleven total," his first in command replied. "And we have located three witnesses. They described the attackers as dressed like barbarians in rough leathers and furs. Carrying clubs, axes."

"No fire this time," Mat murmured, his lone eye narrowing.

"They were interrupted by another crew showing up, with guns."

The half-orc's lip curled back from his sharp teeth. He'd seen firearms before, black powder rifles that the dwarves had made. The weapons paled in comparison with what was available in the city.

"None of the raiders were taken?" He glanced to the other male who shook his head. "And I see this so-called Watch the city employs has yet to show their faces."

He rose with a grim face. The time to act was now.

Mat

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Re: A Call to Arms
« Reply #2 on: July 24, 2019, 05:01:42 PM »
Mat hadn't expected to be pulled from the city for so long. Business demanded his presence and it was one mistress he had to obey. Money had to keep flowing or everything he'd been working for would go to rot.

He could feel the difference in the city the moment he crossed the limits. It was quiet. Not an easy quiet if some rumors that reached his ears were true. The life and liveliness had dropped to a mere whisper. Those supposedly responsible for the city uncaring. Clearly having abandoned their duties. Why bother even running for office?

A stroll through the marketplace proved there were still pockets of life still hanging on. Shops that were back into full swing after the winter fire. Peddlers and food stalls hawking wares and delicacies from near and far.

Some might see it as a dying city. Mat saw possibilities. He saw opportunity for regrowth and change.

A colorful poster caught his eye. RhyDin Revival Project? He'd never heard of the group before. His lone eye narrowed as it scanned the advertisement.

There was a benefit to such things. Frivolous events that made the people fat and happy.

He tore the page from the bulletin board where it was posted. There were others papering the surface between advertisements for local shops. The half-orc continued on his stroll.

It was time to get back on track.