The PargAddi Annals - VI

"What the Hell is Going On?"

6ta - (Fullmoon/Truth Week/Storm Season)

With the first hint of Yelm's return we were up and wandering about. When Voranis eventually roused himself he walked us about his encampment.

It was rough.

Very rough.

First he showed us the surviving Imperials; a dozen ragged, dispirited souls. Most looked like kostoki - or cossaks in New Pelorian - settlers. They were the ones who went into the Redlands and built the fortified settlements that deny the land to the nomads.

Then he took us through the native encampment. He hadn't been exaggerating last night when he said the natives worshipped him - they do. I wish I knew why.

Burik was their headman. I am not a short man, in fact I am one of the tallest in the regiment but Burik had another head on me. I stared squarely at his collarbone. Burik carried the largest bronze-spiked club I've ever seen. And he didn't look none to friendly to us.

Voranis pointed out a tent here and a ruin there. He showed us the smithy where he was having weapons and armour made for the natives. He showed us the excavated walls and the huts the natives had built for him. There were shards of pottery everywhere and piles of fresh dug dirt. The whole lot was surrounded in piddly-assed palisade that my mother could have climbed.

Well, if we have to wait for the regiment to arrive my beaters could keep busy digging.

Voranis kept talking while we broke our fast. He told us about the Kingdom of Estven, to the south, and a civil war that they were having. There was fire in his eyes as he told of the atrocities committed by the usurper and his supporters.

"Now," he said around a spoonful of gruel, "there is a faction that would be friendly to us and support our dig if we were to help them in this war." He must have seen the doubt in my eyes. "The current despot hates the Empire and us. He is the one raiding my dig and killing the tribesmen. The friendly faction is camped a scant twenty miles from here."

"That sounds interesting. You should probably discuss it with the PargAdarch," I said. He didn't look pleased but he nodded and went about his business.

"Verakus!" I shouted. "Check on his wounded, do what you can for them until the medics get here." My irdexmot nodded and stalked off.

Abby turned to me and said, "There are a great many spirits here. Spirits in pain. Spirits OF pain." I scowled. He sat down and tried to speak with the spirits but could not.

When I checked in on Verakus he wasn't having much luck. The woman there, cossak by speech, listless and abrupt, bordering on rude to him. I saw his fingers wave as he muttered a spell and reached out to share the Goddess' Joy with her. She smiled wanly and began to cry.

"We'll never get out of here," she wailed. "Voranis won't let us leave."

"What is he digging for? What does he seek?" Verakus asked her.

"Power."

Verakus met my gaze, my scowl deepened. I shrugged and went to see what we could do with the defences.

Later he and Abby came to report.

"There are two seriously wounded," Verakus said. "One with a cracked head. I'd say a large club scrambled his brains. He's in a coma and I don't think he'll make it." I immediately thought of Voranis' pet headman, Burik. "The other is a priest, Yelm the Bijif I'd say. I thought he had some wasting disease and called Abby to look at him, talk to his spirit you know." I nodded. "You tell it," he said to Abby.

"I spoke to his spirit. He is tortured and in pain. His soul is being attacked and drained by the local spirits. He angered them by trying to heal their hatred." He paused and took a slug from his waterskin. "He won't make it either."

"Did you find anything about the spirits?" I asked him.

"Yep. This was the city of Herdant. Not your 'Yellow City'. Herdant was around before Vingkot's time. What you would call the Age of Shargash. When the Jord's were dropped there the city was cut off from your Empire and started to wither on the vine. Well, Herdant was smeared by some guys called the Starlight Ancestors. These spirits are what's left and they have a real hate on for those guys."

"The Starlight Ancestors are supposed to have come from Estven," I said.

"Oh," he replied. "Well the spirits are getting stronger. Something recently awakened them. I think the city's Lare, or the Lare's physical embodiment, may be the focus."

Maloven's hound growled and I turned to see a slave woman cowering behind me. "Master, Voranis begs to speak with you in his palace."

"His palace? Well lead on then."

Voranis told me that he was riding to see the exiles, "Did you wish to accompany me."

"Sure, what the hell."

7ta (Full-Half)

Come morning we left the dig and marched into the forest. Voranis had gathered 100 of the tribesmen to accompany us and we made good time.

Dyfwwd, one of my beaters and a balazari tracker, wandered over and nodded at me. "This forest is not natural. The trees are mature and well established but there isn't enough undergrowth. Not enough deadfall for a forest that is as old as this one looks." He didn't look finished so I grunted agreement. He looked around carefully and before saying, "I saw elf-sign."

We marched hard through the day and reached the exile camp before nightfall. For the last few miles we were shadowed by ragged warriors - Rimushibi, my daimone stalked them as they stalked us.

When we reached the camp we were stopped by an foul looking warrior. He wore mismatched pieces of armour and carried a battered shield that should have been turned into kindling. There was a faded deice on the shield, it looked like two eagles facing each other.

Voranis smiled, he grunted and growled in their foul language and the wretches grunted back. "The king will see us," Voranis said.

I ran a professional eye over the encampment as we strode though it, careful of where we stepped. There were perhaps 100 warriors here, little more than bandits Abby muttered. They had 40-50 camp followers and a bunch of retched slaves. In Alkoth the only ones who'd by these slaves would be the priests in the Enclosures - the Devourer is always hungry.

There was a large tent at one end of the camp - and that was were we were bound. The rest was lean-to's, and ragged huts. Mud covered everything and the reek of shit and piss clogged my nostrils. A slavegirl staggered by with a bucket full of muddy water. Upstream of her collection point another slave was washing laundry. Further upstream I saw a native pissing into the water.

There were two guards before the tent. Large but ragged, their beards straggly.

A fat shit rolled out of the tent wearing nothing besides his breaches. His beard bristled in all directions, it kind of reminded me of the brunners in Tarsh. He yawned and scratched his crotch as he stood there staring at us. He grunted at Voranis in that grating language.

"These are friends from the Empire," Voranis replied in New Pelorian. "They have come to help defeat the Usurper. This is Therric Gerthorden," he said to me.

"How you help," the barbarian asked me. "What could your regiment do against 1,000 lancers?"

"Well, that is really a matter for my PargAdarch to say. In similar situations the PargAddi did…" I went on for a while giving a brief history of the Beaters and all of the people we had fucked over for theEmperor and how we had done it. Most of it boiled down to 'chose the battlefield and get the assholes you want to kill to wander into it with his thumbs in.'

"That might work," he said thoughtfully. "Ever since we lost the civil war - because of the elves!" He spat on the ground. "The Usurper swore allegiance to the elves to win. The walking trees took half of my land. How would you make them come to you?"

"Well," said Voranis happily, "with my men and yous," he nodded at me, "we could join Therric and raid the nearest steads. That would get them riled up and chasing us in time to run into your regiment."

"Respectfully, gentlemen, but no. My PargAdarch told me to see you safely to your camp and wait for him there. I'm not going starting a war with out his say-so." Voranis' eyes flashed but he didn't say anything.

Therric nodded, "My folks will break camp and return to yours to meet with this PargAdark of yours." I cringed at his barbarous pronunciation but said nothing.

It took the rest of the day for these … people to pack up their belongings and get moving. We marched ahead with Voranis.

1!b (Crescent-Go/Fateweek/Sacredtime)

When we made it back to the palisade the PargAddi's vanguard was there along with Sengeresh, Hervenyar and the High Irdexmot.

Voranis strode over to speak with the PargAdarch but Sengeresh brushed him off. He gathered Hervenyar and me with a glance and we wandered outside the of the camp. "Report," he ordered. I told him everything we had learned and done since we had parted ways. He showed some interest when I mentioned the Bijif priest and called for the medics.

When I was finished Sengeresh dismissed me and called Voranis over to speak with him.

It turned out that the priest had died yesterday and been burned already.

2!b (Dying Moon)

The rest of the beaters arrived the next day. Shortly afterwards Therric rode up at a gallop, his horse heaving. He leap from his horse and swept his helm off - some barbarian ram-headed thing - and charged over to where Sengeresh and Voranis stood.

What followed was a fanciful tale about being attacked ("He went raiding," said Abby) by the Estvenori. He spoke glowingly about the hordes of warriors they had slain ("He murdered some slave women," Abby translated) but there had been too many of them ("At least three") and his warriors' swords arms had grown tired from the slaughter ("From whipping their horses"). The rest of his host was fighting a rearguard action ("He abandoned his men") and would ride into camp shortly with their foe's ears ("They're dead already"). Close behind them was the enemy's host, thousands ("A few dozen") of lancers.

Voranis cheered his companion and shouted "We must fight!"

Sengeresh growled and scowled. He turned to the assembled kastori and began shouting orders. The regiment grabbed their packs and marched out of the enclosure where they set up a route-fort beyond the palisade.

"Gresh!" he shouted. "As the most expendable kastori I have a mission for you. Take your eleventh and slip out of camp tonight. Find this supposed enemy and find out what the hell is going on."

I gathered my squad and grinned at Koriandes, the templar. "Here," I said and handed him a pail of mud. "We don't want your pretty suit glittering in the starlight."

Once it was full night we slipped from the fort and made our way through the forest. Dinjiaxxar, Maloven's hell-hound snarled a warning. We were being followed.

I set the eleventh into ambush and we waited. Those barbarians must have had ears like a sakkar. Moments before our attack they turned and lunged at us, Burik in the lead.

A blue-painted warrior swung his club at Abby smacking him on the shoulder and driving him against a tree. Abby struck out with his whip and left an evil welt across the blue torso. Another hammer-blow drove my drubber to his knees. Spittle flew and reason fled as the native went berserk. Abby's whip snaked out again and robbed the man of his senses with a brutal lash to the temple.

I charged Burik with my shield high and my mace held low. I turned his two-handed blow and smashed his elbow with Purity, my mace. My backhand smashed his jaw and threw him to the ground.

Koriandes ducked behind his great shield, shouldered his man off balance and drove his spear through his belly.

Verakus ducked behind a tree, rubbed his ring for a glowspot and sucked the soul strength right out of a man.

Maloven and his hounds swarmed over his man. There wasn't much left once those dogs were done.

I looked around and smiled. "12 up, 12 down. Well done. No prisoners." I gave Burik to the Destroyer.

Abby played with his man for a bit. "Voranis sent them to off us," he reported. He quickly carved a bunch of runes in the loam and summoned a small demon. "Take this creature as an offering for our master," he told it. The warriors screamed and and thrashed as the demon dragged his soul off to Deshkorgos.

I wrote a message for Sengeresh and sent Rimushibi winging through the trees to deliver it.

We marched on.

5!b (Empty-Half)

It took us two days to find them. After the first my hawk returned and reported that the regiment was besieged and assailed by spirits. He could not report to Sengeresh. We marched on.

First we found the trees thinning. Then we found traces of herding, sheep mostly, and some farms. At the edge of the forest we came across a large camp and were challenged by the guards.

These gents look much better than Therric's crew. They carried 14' lances and looked like they knew how to use them. They had what looked like wooden-scale armour and wore metal helms. Maloven noticed that they all wore katchari swords, from the Imperial armouries.

I greeted them in New Pelorian and held my hands out empty to show no hostility. They shrugged and waved us into the camp. The riders looped lassoes about us but I didn't resist it.

This camp was very different from the bandit one. The tents were ordered and well maintained. I estimate that there were a thousand horsemen and 2000 foot there. We saw green elves wandering around with those great bows of theirs. I noted that different tents were crowned with different banners and decided that this was a gathering of several nobles and their hosts.

We were taken to a tent in the centre of the camp. A large, muscled, not fat, noble strode out to greet us. "I am King Loris Debarden of the Estvenori," he said in Heartland-accented New Pelorian.

"Kastori Greshvuketh, 4th Eleventh of the PargAddi, Imperial Hunter Corp!" I replied.

A woman stepped from the King's tent. She wore the outfit of one of the Nathic fighting schools and two scimitars hung over her shoulder. "What are the PargAddi doing here? You didn't happen to raid a few Estvenori steads in the past week?"

"No, I said and told her the story - leaving out the bit about Tork. She started when I mentioned Voranis. "We thought he was dead, he's been missing for quite a while."

The swordswoman, I never learned her name, told us that Voranis had found some artefact on his dig that had turned him against the Estvenori. My drubbers echanged glances, they were thinking the same thing that I was, he must have found the city's Lare. "The Estvenori have been allies of the Empire for over 20 years," she said. "They allied with the elves to help fight Sheng during the 5th Wane and managed to expand the elf-forest across Garst and Jarst to block the horsemen."

I told the king about the bandits and the attach on the PargAddi. "Would you help my commander?"

"Oh course I'll help my allies." He summoned his host, commanded horses for my drubbers and we rode into the forest.

7!b (Full-Half)

It took us a day and a half to return to the dig. We decided that the locals must worship him as the city's Lare reborn.

When we arrived at the dig we smiled happily. The route-fort still held. Hundreds of native bodies sprawled before the walls and the regiment's banner still waved. We charged the tribesmen and smashed them. Loris spitted Therric as the rebel tried to flee. Voranis faced Sengeresh and Hervenyar and held them both off. He was filled with magical strength and hate. He didn't finally go down until the entire 7th Eleventh joined the fight. The High Irdexmot found a golden pendant under his armour and took it from his body.

With the battle won, the regiment collected the spoils. We plundered the dig and the native's camp. The lads satisfied themselves with the slavewomen and quarrelled over the wine.

Once the fires had been put out, the wounded treated and the new slave shackled Hervenyar paraded the regiment.

Abby and Maloven had fought very well and I had put them in for commendations. Sengeresh commended them before the regiment. He then commended the entire Eleventh for having saved the regiment and gave us 2 weeks bonus pay [1]. Our shares of the loot worked out to five lunars per trooper. As a Kastori I pocketed 15.

The nathic swordswoman, she turned out to be a priestess, said she would arrange transport for us down the Garsting River to the Acros and then back into the Empire.

Abby caught an abandoned steppe-horse and said it was his. I shrugged and then winced. That night he summoned a demon to inhabit his new horse.

No yelling from Hervenyar though - yet.

[1] A beater earns 1 silver a week, an Irdexmot 2 and a Kastori 3.

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