These days, rain was considered a blessing.
Rain put out the fire that rained on the city from the besieging army. Rain cleaned the blood from the cobblestone streets where cutpurses had taken to cutting throats. Rain provided fresh water, which in itself is always a godsend. It’s been two months, and Varrock shows no signs of waving the white flag. Its feeble king has fled, leaving behind his bastard Lord Alexi Doviodn. Lord Alexi has been given the command of the city garrison with two clear directives. Keep the opposing army out, and keep order within. Every day both tasks prove more and more difficult. Any man diverted from the wall invites the enemy to storm the city. On the other hand, the city left unpatrolled has given unprecedented power to local bands of criminals. The black market thrives, with thieves trading food for its weight in gold. Then again even honest men will turn to robbery in order to feed their family. The slums are a powderkeg about ready to blow, and when it does, Varrock will go with it. Still, there is hope.
There are rumors that the siege will be broken, and in times like these, a rumor is all you need. It is times like these where the true mettle of a man is tested. The honorable among us surely now have a chance to grasp at glory, and for those whom honor is lacking profits are ripe to be made. That is if they can survive.
A creative man is motivated by the desire to achieve, not by the desire to beat others.
-Ayn Rand
14-Sep-2018 04:45:05
- Last edited on
14-Sep-2018 04:49:07
by
Lord Alexi