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Š The Siege of Falador Ž

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Sand Traven

Sand Traven

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Melkarth said :
A response was delivered swiftly to Sir Galleth. Partly because Delrith was efficient, but also partly because he wasn't very literate. He had to get Galleth's fancy words read to him - he couldn't make heads or tails of it himself, far too many commas. Naturally, his reply was as simple as he was (in terms of literacy). He grew up in the slums of Varrock, after all. It read as follows.

Sir Galleth,

I have spoken to Malleus. We agreed Lord Daquarius would not like this. But he is in Taverley. We will sort that out later.

Your transfer is approved. You have our authority on the matter. Do what you must to bring the White City to its knees, Bombardier.

D. One man's trash is another's treasure, and one man's cash buys another's pleasure.
So I'll rob from the cradle, and I'll rob from the grave; it's just human traffic, and I'm just a slave.

27-Oct-2015 19:38:05

Sand Traven

Sand Traven

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The next stage:

Over the next day or two, the tunnels beneath the city are used to transport the weapons. The crates containing them have no special markings, looking much like any delivery of minerals or tools. The Chaos Dwarven escort of these is disguised as regular dwarves, with a few paid-off dissident dwarves, Red Axe loyalists and anti-monarchists, among them to do the talking should they be challenged. One man's trash is another's treasure, and one man's cash buys another's pleasure.
So I'll rob from the cradle, and I'll rob from the grave; it's just human traffic, and I'm just a slave.

27-Oct-2015 19:45:37

Melkarth
Sep Member 2022

Melkarth

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The Aftermath of the Battle for Port Sarim

Ruins. The town lay in ruins. Burnt out houses, a ravaged dock and a business district which was not going to do business for a while lay barren where Sarim once stood. There was the odd house still standing, those of the Zamorakians who stayed behind. Many probably did not, however, opting to leave the town for a while in fear of retribution or bandits. At the centre of the town towered the demonic figure of the triumphant Commander.

Delrith bellowed orders at the hastily moving Knights. All were exhausted after the battle, having faced a much stronger opposition than expected. They were invigorated by victory, however, and after all: they were doing the Lord's work.

The town was looted before it was burned, that which had not been saved by the fleeing residents and the Godless and that was of value or could be used for food was taken to the siege lines south of Falador. The remaining populace, that had not fled or been evacuated, was corralled in the square.

They were interrogated, to assess their religion. Most were found to be loyal Zamorakians, they did not fear death nor the Knights. But those who cried or trembled? They were assumed heathens.

The loyal of Zamorak were returned to their homes, except the male children to the age of 16. They were to join the Order, a blessing their families accepted with grace.

The heathens were dealt with differently. The women were taken to the Fortress, the men were summarily executed and the children were loaded on a boat to be taken to Karamja - a gift to the Kinshra's slaver friends, along with 1/5th of the loot.

As the black column moved off as darkness fell before them, the night was lit in their wake as they scorched the earth and took what they could find in the hinterlands. Sarim's darkest days were ahead, when the embers turned to ash, and the fires died out.

(Draz will follow up tomorrow with a summary of the actual battle.)

28-Oct-2015 00:07:18 - Last edited on 28-Oct-2015 00:09:56 by Melkarth

Melkarth
Sep Member 2022

Melkarth

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The next day, the Mayor of Sarim would be returned to the town, having been taken captive during the attack. He would be left, hands bound, face covered with a sack, ankles tied, in the middle of the ruins. Chances are, someone would've found and helped him. The man seemed healthy, some damage to his head but nothing more, except... He no longer had index fingers, or thumbs.

28-Oct-2015 00:17:55

Sand Traven

Sand Traven

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Thud, thud, thud.

At precisely eleven o'clock on the morning of this day of the siege, a booming cycle of fire echoed from the northern Kinshra encampment as the first of a series of revolutions is completed. Even civilians recognised it for what it was; siege weaponry. Some fled inside their homes. Some fled into the streets. Some turned eyes heavenward and prayed for Saradomin to deliver them, finally, from the wrath of the Kinshra.

But the anticipation of impact drew on and on, the unbearable wait worse than the execution. None came. Had these shots gone astray? Was this some new devilry? A trick, or an illusion? As frightened souls across the city willed their eyes open and looked out at a city that lay in ruins no worse than when they had closed them, they saw what must have been fired into the city.

Small clay balls, cracked open upon the first hard surface to disturb their descent, spewing a rude pink smoke high into the morning's clear sky. Nothing more.

Devilry indeed. One man's trash is another's treasure, and one man's cash buys another's pleasure.
So I'll rob from the cradle, and I'll rob from the grave; it's just human traffic, and I'm just a slave.

29-Oct-2015 20:02:10 - Last edited on 29-Oct-2015 20:03:45 by Sand Traven

RiDaku
Oct Member 2012

RiDaku

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The sky above the city took on a noticeably darker hue today, as if something had moved overhead, darkening the clouds and blotting out the sun, casting the city in a shade. Something was watching, observing the ongoing events. The razing of the villages surrounding Falador, the encampments of Kinshra soldiers, and the constant bloodshed..

This must end, soon. And soon, it shall descend, and do away with the unwanted, as had been done to it years prior. The Sicarius |
They think they are "the many", and I "the few". They think this gives them the right to walk over me.

Want to Role-Play? Click Here!

29-Oct-2015 20:03:59

Melkarth
Sep Member 2022

Melkarth

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Will post some details tomorrow. It'll be a skirmish in the north woods rather than Burthorpe, since Burthorpe's army moved out to attack the Kinshra. Need to work out my own schedule, but it'll probably be Sunday or very short notice tomorrow evening. Won't be Saturday - we might otherwise do it early next week as the Kinshra retreat from Falador.

30-Oct-2015 00:52:31

Nasty Smell

Nasty Smell

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" Effin'-... what ?! "
A yell cut through the otherwise silent Draynor market. It was early; very early, not even the cockerel had awoken, at least, until this bellow of rage. Lamplight illuminated two figures by the wine stall; the bigger, broader, more boisterous of the two took a swig from an uncorked bottle afore hurling it at the ground in rage. This was the first that he had heard about the Kinshra's raid on port Sarim. The news hadn't really struck him to the full extent, but plans were already being made. A newfound energy overwhelmed the bald, kilted gentleman, a lust for vengeance.

"' Course they strike when ah'm oot ain business! Cheeky beggars; i'll crush 'em all! waiting f'me tae leave. The bloomin' nerve-.. nay, Cowardice of it! Ah'm gannae get it back. Mark m'words. " The other man left him to his ranting, heading back to the refugee camp from which he came, but not Norbert. The kinshra had burned his brewery/bar/trading post™. They had slaughtered his customers, and worst of all, they had stolen his armour- the one thing that meant the world to him. They will pay. The distraught man hitched up his boots, grabbed a bottle for the road, and marched westbound to Falador.

He will find the stolen equipment and enact vengeance. This he vowed to himself.
Or he will die trying.

Incoming mini-plot starting soon! Join Norbert in finding and raiding the Kinshra camp, or discover and foil his plot. Talk to me or Dan for more details! Buying Plant Feed
;
15gp
/
gram
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Mudbrain

30-Oct-2015 11:05:47 - Last edited on 30-Oct-2015 11:17:59 by Nasty Smell

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