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Snippet #2374288

located in Isles of Penumbria, a part of Forth Rode the King, one of the many universes on RPG.

Isles of Penumbria

Mainland

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bjorni Silverstone Character Portrait: Alerk Alerkson
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Alerk Alerkson

The ships were coming, one by one, slowly the filling the bays of the Temperance Isles. News that Alerk the Strong was now a gold giver was drawing all the ships of his kindred from across the sea to his side. Even pirates from the Hightowers, fearing their own leaders weakness, had sailed to join the growing horde. No ships could sail west for Alerk had thrown up a screen of long sleek ship killers that hunted the waves for any who might betray his presence to the Penumbrians. A few trusted merchant captains were allowed to pass with tails of the raiders moving into the northern seas and, if the gods willed it, the enemy would not suspect what was to come.

Alerks temporary home was the hall that had once served the Bann of Temperance. It was an impressive building of stone and heavy wooden timbers. At its centre a large fire blazed, illuminating the men who sat in a semi-circle on the floor with Alerk. Each of these men had come to him with more than two ships and so could demand to be part of the council. Erik the Butcher, rumoured to have slaughtered a hundred men alone. Derfel the Boneless whose skin was stretched so tight over his bones he looked like a walking skeleton. Kjartin the Restless, famed for his far reaching journeys and wondrous items captured from far off lands. And Ragnar the Fearless, said to have killed all the giants of the east and strangled the dreaded sea monster Hyrlious with his bare hands. These men made up the small council and they, having sworn their oaths to Alerk, were planning the next stage of the campaign.

A sixth man knelt with them, smaller than the rest and without the heavy furs that would mark him as a Northman. He was slight in build with a sharp face, fine bones and a speed with a dagger that could defeat all the but most seasoned warrior. His name was Finian, a thief by trade and a Penumbrian by birth. Like all men however the lust for gold had proved more than he could resist and he had heard the whisperings of a gathering Northman fleet and so sailed to join Alerk. Now he helped plan the fall of the very nation that had given him birth and he did it with glee.

"The wardens are strong my lords." He said, looking about the assembled men. "An attack on any of their fortresses with the small numbers we have would be a disaster." He touched each of the main cities with the tip of his dagger.

"However, the Banns of Penumbria are not nearly as strong, and most of them less than intelligent. They have been at peace for to long and while Hightower threatens war he is no military mind and will certainly fail but it should be enough to draw Penumbrian troops away from where we wish to land."

Alerk grunted and then bent over the crude map. "We will need to strike hard and fast. The strike must also land somewhere that can provide us much gold. When our kin hear of such a victory they will flood our camps with new and willing men. Without that gold, this army is doomed to nothing more than the petty raids of our ancestors."

"Then, my lord," Said the thief with a sly grin. "I suggest we attack here."

He pointed with his dagger, the silver gleaming in the firelight, the well used tip resting on Silverstone.


Bann of Silverstone

"Stop your worrying." Bjorni snapped at his guard commander. "At present we have nothing to fear from anyone and I won't go down a route that will lead me into war. If I start summoning soldiers, buying mercenaries to protect us, anything like that, our dear Lady Fitzwarren will only assume we seek to start a war and smash us into the dust." He waved a hand to stop any protest. "No, I will not allow a course of action that thrusts us any further towards fighting then we already are."

Sir Tavan, commander of all Silverstone, groaned and nodded his assent. He, unlike his lord, knew how weak the entire region could be against a determined enemy though he had faith that even his untested soldiers could defend against any attempt to cross the bridge and breach the heavy gates long enough to reinforcements to arrive.

"And what of the mines beneath the city?" Tavan asked. "My men had searched far and wide down there and found no trace of the rumoured secret entrances."

"That's because there are none, or none that our cavern dwellers have made obvious and if you cannot find them Sir Tavan, none of the fools who would seek to take my home will either." Bjorni was getting tired of the conversation. He wanted to return to his bed and position himself between his young wife's thighs. The war was far to the north and no threat to them at the moment. The river still ran strong and he had a well trained, though untested guard, to protect him. The security of his city and lands came from the gold given to others, not strength of arms.

"As you say my lord." Sir Tavan responded, bowing and sweeping from the room without another word. He was furious but there was nothing that could be done but to train his men harder and ensure that when the eventual call to arms came, he would be ready. He had already called up additional levies, some 2,000 spears that could swell his current forces to make sure no one could simply march through their lands.

Once outside he took a deep breath of the moisture filled air and smiled as he looked at the narrow bridge in the distance and the thick walls. It looked impressive and perhaps the Bann was right after all, Silverstone would be safe.

He could never have been more wrong.