"This is a bad plan." We were a couple miles out of town, both wearing backpacks full of whatever supplies we had (for me it was the rest of my stolen goods and some jerky, where as Tripp apparently had an entire kitchen on his back from all the jingling).
"You keep saying that." Tripp was in good spirits even though I told him we (and by we I meant me, but he accepted my interpretation it meant him as well) were just kicked out of our homes in the shanties outside of the city we were staying in (notice how I don't name the city? Because its no longer standing, such is the issue with wars).
"It keeps being true." We were on our way to the Lunar Empire, a fringe republic in the north part of what is Red Hand Territory. Technically they were not in the Red Hand, but they had always existed as a defacto part of it, with the start of the war they had fully cloistered themself off and attempted to enforce a "border". The Lunar Empire as their name would imply, were nut jobs, they were worshipped the moon in some ridiculous throwback to a tribal belief system (I say that coming from a tribal people who amongst all the gods they worshipped at one time, were freaking wolves!)
"Look Nidget the flyer says right here they are looking for able bodied shorties to work as servants and kitchen staff!" He had the flyer out again, it was written very eloquently and had been nailed up all over the shorty sections of the city, but at the same time I almost wondered if this was some kind of Red Hand trap, since no one else at all had taken them up on the offer.
"And so we work as servants and rob them blind? That's the plan?"
"Do you have a better one?"
"Not yet, but you do realize that they still burn people alive for crimes in the Lunar Empire right? That's their justice code."
"They hang you in the Red Hand, is that better?"
"You've got a point Tripp, I'll be damned that you do, but there it is." And so I shut my mouth and we trudged north. We avoided any city/group of people for fear of getting roped into the war (it was going bad for both sides to an extent, so they had been just collecting people to fight for them). Eventually arriving at the Lunar Empire and that as all things in life, is where trouble really came to town. Not us mind you, but the problems followed shortly thereafter.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Best to Beat a Tactical Retreat
It was a few days later I found myself still playing the poor beggar for cash. Unfortunately for me, people in the Red Hand are total dicks especially in war time. Like every attempt to bat my eyes and claim war veteran status was met with contempt and comments of "Get a real job," and "You people disgust me." I tell you it was enough to have me believe that people genuinely didn't like me (which is nonesense I know). I was sitting outside a bar hoping to help up some aristocratic drunk (and help myself to his pockets) when a Red Hand Judge acosted to me.
"Pavarossi," He sneered, he and I had been playing a game of dumb fool chasing after his better for a couple weeks and I was tiring of his accusation (however true, he had no proof).
"Judge Dolan, how nice of you to swing by and check up on me." He had me by the front of my shirt, I had slipped my left hand down the small of my back where I kept a dagger, I didn't want to have to kill him, but if worst came to worst, I was not going to die on my knees.
"You're filth Pavarossi, you and those like you, what are you even doing out here?" Dolan was a bald man by trade, and had more paunch on him then other judges, it wasn't a surprise to me he wasn't out fighting like the rest, he was probably as useless at that as he was at keeping the peace.
"Watching the night sky, this is the best place in the city to do so." He threw me to the ground at this point, thats the problem with being short its not very difficult to be tossed around. I lost hold of my dagger, but thankfully it didn't come skittering out or I'd have been summarily executed I'm sure for "attacking" a judge.
"I want you out of my city Pavarossi, you are done here and you will not come back or I will see you suffer a fate worse than death, am I clear?" His words were harsh and his tone flared up more than other times.
I stood up and dusted myself off (even though I hadn't gotten any dust on me), "Fine Judge Dolan the service here stinks anyway." I didn't hear his response as I made sure to walk away at an elevated pace, and I was getting tired of the city not being a land of opportunity, if anything it had been the opposite and I had lost more money and time there than I preferred. So it was under these circumstances I met up with Tripp and heard out his horrible plan and so our journey north began.
"Pavarossi," He sneered, he and I had been playing a game of dumb fool chasing after his better for a couple weeks and I was tiring of his accusation (however true, he had no proof).
"Judge Dolan, how nice of you to swing by and check up on me." He had me by the front of my shirt, I had slipped my left hand down the small of my back where I kept a dagger, I didn't want to have to kill him, but if worst came to worst, I was not going to die on my knees.
"You're filth Pavarossi, you and those like you, what are you even doing out here?" Dolan was a bald man by trade, and had more paunch on him then other judges, it wasn't a surprise to me he wasn't out fighting like the rest, he was probably as useless at that as he was at keeping the peace.
"Watching the night sky, this is the best place in the city to do so." He threw me to the ground at this point, thats the problem with being short its not very difficult to be tossed around. I lost hold of my dagger, but thankfully it didn't come skittering out or I'd have been summarily executed I'm sure for "attacking" a judge.
"I want you out of my city Pavarossi, you are done here and you will not come back or I will see you suffer a fate worse than death, am I clear?" His words were harsh and his tone flared up more than other times.
I stood up and dusted myself off (even though I hadn't gotten any dust on me), "Fine Judge Dolan the service here stinks anyway." I didn't hear his response as I made sure to walk away at an elevated pace, and I was getting tired of the city not being a land of opportunity, if anything it had been the opposite and I had lost more money and time there than I preferred. So it was under these circumstances I met up with Tripp and heard out his horrible plan and so our journey north began.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Most Problems Start Small
"The answer is no." It was mid morning, I had been awake seeking to make a little coin before the day got going for a couple hours now (you have to start early to work a con, especially in war time). I was dressed in my normal black slacks and short vest with red shirt underneath it. I also wore a long coat (well long for a shorty, about regular size for normals), that was mainly to conceal weaponry/lockpicks/spoils. This was around the time judging from how Trezlan recalls it of when he was exiled from Ronerawth the first time (before the final time, which he gets to later on, trust me its not as exciting as he makes it out to be). The war was cutting into my business of stealing things, and I was really regretting running away from my family circus and coming up north to the Red Hand lands (there were arguments about stifling creativity and how they always under used me, blah blah blah, childish things but thats what normally happens with family). I'm rambling I'm sorry.
"Come on Nidget, this is a guarenteed money maker." The shorty following me was a chubby guy named Tripp (I think he was named after people falling over him as he was quite short, even for one of my kind). He was a few years my younger and many leagues of experience away from myself, though he got in more trouble than people double his age. We were walking through the big sections of the city we currently lived in (coastal one, still controlled by the Red Hand at this point, which meant more guards and even less chances of money).
"Tripp the only guarenteed thing about your plans is that they are guarenteed to get me in trouble with someone now leave me be no one will believe I'm a war veteran if you are following behind me like a lost puppy."
"You're a war veteran Nidget?"
"No you moron, but they don't know that." No shorty was willingly serving in the Red Hand's military. I say willingly because they had been known to enslave/take thralls from shorties for dangerous/suicide missions, because honestly no one cared when one of us died.
"At least hear me out."
"No! Now leave Tripp before I make you leave." He looked like a scolded child when he turned to me and walked away. I'll admit I felt bad about yelling at him, but in retrospect since I did eventually listen to him, this whole thing is his fault and I feel better about yelling and wish I'd yelled more! Thats the problem with remembering thing, it just highlights where you made mistakes. Frankly I'm surprised Trezlan keeps this journal at all, its like a record of his failures to be a decent person throughout his whole miserable life. Seems like the kind of thing you'd do right before you kill yourself. All that aside, this was how things started, Tripp had a plan, and I was running out of money, and wouldn't you know it, those two things came together in one awful package.
"Come on Nidget, this is a guarenteed money maker." The shorty following me was a chubby guy named Tripp (I think he was named after people falling over him as he was quite short, even for one of my kind). He was a few years my younger and many leagues of experience away from myself, though he got in more trouble than people double his age. We were walking through the big sections of the city we currently lived in (coastal one, still controlled by the Red Hand at this point, which meant more guards and even less chances of money).
"Tripp the only guarenteed thing about your plans is that they are guarenteed to get me in trouble with someone now leave me be no one will believe I'm a war veteran if you are following behind me like a lost puppy."
"You're a war veteran Nidget?"
"No you moron, but they don't know that." No shorty was willingly serving in the Red Hand's military. I say willingly because they had been known to enslave/take thralls from shorties for dangerous/suicide missions, because honestly no one cared when one of us died.
"At least hear me out."
"No! Now leave Tripp before I make you leave." He looked like a scolded child when he turned to me and walked away. I'll admit I felt bad about yelling at him, but in retrospect since I did eventually listen to him, this whole thing is his fault and I feel better about yelling and wish I'd yelled more! Thats the problem with remembering thing, it just highlights where you made mistakes. Frankly I'm surprised Trezlan keeps this journal at all, its like a record of his failures to be a decent person throughout his whole miserable life. Seems like the kind of thing you'd do right before you kill yourself. All that aside, this was how things started, Tripp had a plan, and I was running out of money, and wouldn't you know it, those two things came together in one awful package.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
The Shorty Lifestyle
This may shock you, but Trezlan knows nothing of how shorties live or exist in these modern times. I know its surprising such an amazing observer of common peoples is such an aloof dick he can't pay attention to simple ways things work. Basically no matter the country (both Ronerawth and The Red Hand/The Guard have this issue, I have not crossed the ocean to see if my peoples are the same over there, but I'd assume yes) shorties are slighted in life. We are not allowed to own property in the nicer parts of cities, and as cities expand into places we were living, they kick us out! Its one reason no shorty settlement is made of brick and mortar, because whatever we created would either be destroyed or stolen, better to make wood and just move the structure when the inevitable happens.
What this means is that shorties are always living on the outside of every city they inhabit. Truely we are on the outside looking in. Though we do occaisionally get work inside the cities themselves, tough cleaning jobs most of the time (because of our short stature we are frequently used in dangerous places taller people can't reach/don't want to go). The most common jobs for shorties are sewer cleaners and chimney sweeps, leading most people to think we all smell like shit or ash (how nice of them since without us their houses would burn down and their pipes would overflow!).
Now my family as Trezlan has pointed out has never lived in the main. We run long job cons and steal from people (look I can admit to this especially since Trezlan already let the cat out of the bag). So its fair to say I've never worked an honest day in my life (well I hadn't until I ended up Trezlans servant). My skills are also not really situated for doing honest labor, I know how to pick locks, slice tendons, and steal things without someone even noticing its gone. Not exactly skills you look for in a laborer. Which is what lead me to my incident in the Lunar Empire... That I'll finally start telling you about tomorrow. See I can pick up trezlans bad habits too!
What this means is that shorties are always living on the outside of every city they inhabit. Truely we are on the outside looking in. Though we do occaisionally get work inside the cities themselves, tough cleaning jobs most of the time (because of our short stature we are frequently used in dangerous places taller people can't reach/don't want to go). The most common jobs for shorties are sewer cleaners and chimney sweeps, leading most people to think we all smell like shit or ash (how nice of them since without us their houses would burn down and their pipes would overflow!).
Now my family as Trezlan has pointed out has never lived in the main. We run long job cons and steal from people (look I can admit to this especially since Trezlan already let the cat out of the bag). So its fair to say I've never worked an honest day in my life (well I hadn't until I ended up Trezlans servant). My skills are also not really situated for doing honest labor, I know how to pick locks, slice tendons, and steal things without someone even noticing its gone. Not exactly skills you look for in a laborer. Which is what lead me to my incident in the Lunar Empire... That I'll finally start telling you about tomorrow. See I can pick up trezlans bad habits too!
Monday, June 25, 2012
How I Became an Emperor
Nidget here, here to tell you the story of how I became "Emperor Nidget" (pronounced ne jay by the way in course you are some uncultured swine or Trezlan who's a total dick). This will be a multiple part entry and I'm sure you'll love each and every entry whoever you are thats probably Trezlan after I'm dead. But in case you aren't Trezlan I've decided to write my entry in red as opposed to Trezlan's normal black entry.
So prepare yourself for tommorrow's exciting start to my amazing legacy. I'd write more, but Trezlan is do back soon and I don't want him catching me doing this. Also the incidents where he was stuck on an island and blaming me and Andre for it happening are completely ridiculous and were totally his fault. In case you thought different or something. Anyway tomorrow be here!
So prepare yourself for tommorrow's exciting start to my amazing legacy. I'd write more, but Trezlan is do back soon and I don't want him catching me doing this. Also the incidents where he was stuck on an island and blaming me and Andre for it happening are completely ridiculous and were totally his fault. In case you thought different or something. Anyway tomorrow be here!
Friday, June 22, 2012
Campfire Insults
"You eat this stuff? No wonder you are so thin." I had been in camp for no more than five minutes before Toneron had arrived to insult my cooking. He looked like he always did a nice suit (grey this time) clean cut features and no visible sign of having arrived from whereever he came from.
"Thanks for selling me out." I didn't even look up, he insult my cooking (some form of rodent, slow moving, dumb as hell, which probably doesn't speak well for eating it, I mean if its slow and dumb what could be wrong with its meat?). Despite having some trail supplies from Ronerawth I've always been a "use those at last resort" type since they taste so awful, like I'd rather kill whatever I did and eat that then deal with them.
"Don't think of me selling you out, think of it as me buying you in. I mean you are my representative right?"
"Exiled representative."
"Details, I mean what do they want you to do?"
"Win the war."
"Well on the positive thats what we were intending on doing anyway! This just means you have a more vested interested."
"You're a wealth of help."
He harumphed and didn't sit on the log I was occupying, I got the impression because it was far too dirty for him, "Some respect for the man who saved your life."
"ONLY TO PUT IT IN WORSE DANGER!"
"Trezlan if you only look at things in the immediate sense you'll miss the more important aspects of things.
"Such as?
"The war needs you!" He was making grand gestures with his hands, but the words were pure bullshit (I should know I make my money in bullshit).
"Right it needs a pissed off necromancer."
"No," He slumped down to grab my shoulder in the universal sign of 'I'm about to lay it on thick' "It needs a brilliant man who can turn the tide of this conflict and secure us an invaluable resource. FRESH CLIENTS!" The way he said clients did not make it sound like the way I think of them.
"Right."
"Trezlan you're killing my energy here buddy, you need to realize the world may not revolve around you, but it does need you from time to time." He was back to his feet, and looking like he would disappear to wherever he goes.
"And where does the world need me now?"
"North," He pitched me a ring that had an H inscribed in some metal I didn't recognize, "Use that they won't shoot you."
"Where North?" But he was gone. So it was just north, not like there wasn't a huge tract of north to explore or anything OH WAIT THERE WAS AND A LOT OF IT WAS FULL OF BAD THINGS!
"Thanks for selling me out." I didn't even look up, he insult my cooking (some form of rodent, slow moving, dumb as hell, which probably doesn't speak well for eating it, I mean if its slow and dumb what could be wrong with its meat?). Despite having some trail supplies from Ronerawth I've always been a "use those at last resort" type since they taste so awful, like I'd rather kill whatever I did and eat that then deal with them.
"Don't think of me selling you out, think of it as me buying you in. I mean you are my representative right?"
"Exiled representative."
"Details, I mean what do they want you to do?"
"Win the war."
"Well on the positive thats what we were intending on doing anyway! This just means you have a more vested interested."
"You're a wealth of help."
He harumphed and didn't sit on the log I was occupying, I got the impression because it was far too dirty for him, "Some respect for the man who saved your life."
"ONLY TO PUT IT IN WORSE DANGER!"
"Trezlan if you only look at things in the immediate sense you'll miss the more important aspects of things.
"Such as?
"The war needs you!" He was making grand gestures with his hands, but the words were pure bullshit (I should know I make my money in bullshit).
"Right it needs a pissed off necromancer."
"No," He slumped down to grab my shoulder in the universal sign of 'I'm about to lay it on thick' "It needs a brilliant man who can turn the tide of this conflict and secure us an invaluable resource. FRESH CLIENTS!" The way he said clients did not make it sound like the way I think of them.
"Right."
"Trezlan you're killing my energy here buddy, you need to realize the world may not revolve around you, but it does need you from time to time." He was back to his feet, and looking like he would disappear to wherever he goes.
"And where does the world need me now?"
"North," He pitched me a ring that had an H inscribed in some metal I didn't recognize, "Use that they won't shoot you."
"Where North?" But he was gone. So it was just north, not like there wasn't a huge tract of north to explore or anything OH WAIT THERE WAS AND A LOT OF IT WAS FULL OF BAD THINGS!
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Only Saved To Be Damned
"Are you comfortable?" I was, it was a nice leather padded chair, high back, the kind you can sink right into. The study I was in was lined with books and smelled of aged wood, the Duke sat across from me in a similar chair, he had a glass of some brown liquid he sampled from time to time. At the entrance to the room was a couple guards in royal purple, their ceremonial weapons still looked extremely functional should the need arise.
"I'd be more comfortable back home my lord." Always refer to royalty with reverence, because they can and will have you executed, also never get to comfortable, because most of the biggest betrayals have come from positions of comfort (I'd say look it up, but history in this world is awful I swear this journal is one of the few things thats actually logging the stuff and I'm making stuff up half the tim... err writing down the absolute truth every time).
"You are a long way from being able to return home Mr. Lorentino." See what I was telling you about feeling comfortable?
"I figured, so let me guess this is the 'Do what we tell you to do or we'll dump you in a ditch conversattion'."
"I figured you'd catch on, you see I couldn't have the judge ordering you executed with you being so welcomed by the public, but here where no one can see you? Well I could have you killed and thrown into a hole, another victim of success." The Duke said this very politely, a bit creepily so.
"How pleasant."
"Quite, though I have no problem with what you and Hanlon are doing, indeed winning a war against the Red Hand benefits us greatly, but should you lose, well we'll have angered a hornets nest of magic users who already do not like us."
"But they'd be in a weakened state!" In theory of course, I had no idea if the Red Hand won they wouldn't have invoked some super horrible new magic to have done that and thus be stronger for it.
"Sure sure, but they'd also want vengeance and that tends to make people fight harder. So I'm tasking you with this, you will not be allowed to return to our lands until this conflict is done, we will provide you with troops and supplies when its convenient for us, but you must win this conflict or face execution."
"So go back to the lands of the Red Hand, win a war or die trying either way?'
"Exactly, I was told you were astute and it seems the rumors were true, my men will show you out." The doors opened and I was once again escorted out of the palace (for one of the final times). It wasn't the first time Ronerawth had tasked me with an impossible goal, but it was one of the few times I really felt hopeless about it. For their part they gave me a nice armed escort to the Divide and supplied me with a horse and some supplies. So I wasn't completely alone, just mostly screwed. And somewhere, somehow I knew Toneron was smiling about the development. I mean it was just one war, how hard could that be to win?
"I'd be more comfortable back home my lord." Always refer to royalty with reverence, because they can and will have you executed, also never get to comfortable, because most of the biggest betrayals have come from positions of comfort (I'd say look it up, but history in this world is awful I swear this journal is one of the few things thats actually logging the stuff and I'm making stuff up half the tim... err writing down the absolute truth every time).
"You are a long way from being able to return home Mr. Lorentino." See what I was telling you about feeling comfortable?
"I figured, so let me guess this is the 'Do what we tell you to do or we'll dump you in a ditch conversattion'."
"I figured you'd catch on, you see I couldn't have the judge ordering you executed with you being so welcomed by the public, but here where no one can see you? Well I could have you killed and thrown into a hole, another victim of success." The Duke said this very politely, a bit creepily so.
"How pleasant."
"Quite, though I have no problem with what you and Hanlon are doing, indeed winning a war against the Red Hand benefits us greatly, but should you lose, well we'll have angered a hornets nest of magic users who already do not like us."
"But they'd be in a weakened state!" In theory of course, I had no idea if the Red Hand won they wouldn't have invoked some super horrible new magic to have done that and thus be stronger for it.
"Sure sure, but they'd also want vengeance and that tends to make people fight harder. So I'm tasking you with this, you will not be allowed to return to our lands until this conflict is done, we will provide you with troops and supplies when its convenient for us, but you must win this conflict or face execution."
"So go back to the lands of the Red Hand, win a war or die trying either way?'
"Exactly, I was told you were astute and it seems the rumors were true, my men will show you out." The doors opened and I was once again escorted out of the palace (for one of the final times). It wasn't the first time Ronerawth had tasked me with an impossible goal, but it was one of the few times I really felt hopeless about it. For their part they gave me a nice armed escort to the Divide and supplied me with a horse and some supplies. So I wasn't completely alone, just mostly screwed. And somewhere, somehow I knew Toneron was smiling about the development. I mean it was just one war, how hard could that be to win?
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