Power fields are keeping the horde out. Everyone who tries to breach is evaporated. Some have left and marched somewhere else, the rest are milling around with no direction.
Baylen is sorting out shit to do with the civil war. He picked up a map of the city. He probably paid a peasant for it. Baylen has reached the city. Horlamin is hanging around. He is aware that there is a civil war brewing but it hasn’t escalated yet. It’s getting there. He doesn’t know that the separatists declare opposition to the monarchy. The royalists want to put the nephew of the late king on the throne (who is 9). The separatists want to vote.
The guards stop Baylen.
Baylen: “I’m here on business from King Horhand Iskillien. Take me to your leader.”
The guards hesitate for a moment but let you in under armed escort. They lead you to a waiting room. His escort informs the bailiff who allows him to see the King immediately. Baylen is led into a grand hall.
The child king looks uncomfortable in the throne. He doesn’t pay much attention to Baylen as he approaches. Baylen kneels at the throne.
“Your majesty and his- Ah, advisor… I bring grave news.”
The king straightens up and says, “What’s your name?” He is sweet and childlike so far. Definitely not what you would expect from a King.
Baylen pauses a moment. “Ah…Baylen Cartwright, your majesty.” He frowns. “As I was saying…”
The King mentions a dog called Baylen who he didn’t like. Baylen knows this is going to be difficult.
Baylen frowns a moment, and pauses for dramatic emphasis. “A horde of a couple of thousand orcs are marching on your city.”
A man who looks like a knight from one of the Houses scoffs. “How do we know this is true? Who are you? Is this some ploy from the separatists?”
Horlamin, the racist pig, shifts uncomfortably, trying to control his tourettes. He fights with this evil demon within, claming his lips shut as he twitches and grasps at the wall, tics overcoming him. He whispers quietly to himself. “How many Dornari does it take to read a book?” After a few moments of no response, he gasps “Just kidding, Dornari can’t read!” Luckily, everyone is only paying attention to Baylen and no one hears his joke.
“If you’re that suspicious, send a scouting party to the East, to the crossroads Keep. Or better yet, look out your window and see the black smoke in the East.”
There is a murmur through the hall. One of the guards pipes up, saying he has seen the smoke himself.
The knight is still suspicious.
The King looks worried. “The orcs are coming? We have to kill them!”
“The wall has fallen.” Baylen states, about as bluntly as possible without a mace. “It needs warriors to reinforce its defenses.”
The man in armour scoffs again. “The wall is too thick! It’s been standing for generations, it’ll stand for generations more!”
The King cuts him off and starts tugging on the advisors arm. “We need to send the boats!”
“My lord, we can’t send boats over land. And if we send the armies out of the city, the separatists will take your throne.”
“Oh.” The boy King whispers, troubled.
To Baylen, the advisor says, “We simply cannot send armies elsewhere while we have the problem of the separists.”
“So if they agreed to a temporary truce, you would be able to send troops to reinforce the wall? Ah- In case you’ve never faced an orc in battle, I should perhaps inform you that death is rather more permanent than democracy.”
The advisor says sternly. “There will be no truce. You were sent by King Horhand? Is he sending support? Where is he?”
“Last I’d heard, he was heading north to offer some sort of assistance, yes. Whether he’s bringing an army, I don’t know.”
The advisor sighs. “We simply cannot risk losing our foothold on the city. Our walls will hold.”
“Will they? Will they really? The orcs that attacked Crossroads Keep had cannons – Again, I invite you to send a scout to verify, if you’ve any doubt.”
The King insists that this is terrible. “We need to stop them!”
The advisor tries to argue about separists, but the King snaps back that they are just people. The orcs are a more serious threat.
“Your majesty has the right of it. The orcs are a more pressing threat at the moment – Even your separatists will see that, surely.” Says Baylen.
“I agree.” Says the King.
“We cannot trust the separatists.” The advisor insists.
“No, Baylen, please speak to the separatists and arrange this truce.”
The rest of us are kind of cleaning up the rivers of blood. Avin wants to know how long the defenses will last. He has concluded that the power sources will last for a month. Unless the energy consumption speeds up for some reason. As it is, it will last.
Ianthe helps people and tries to get some gossip out of people.
Baylen goes to chill with separatists. They all seem to be wearing the same emblem which is different from that of the royalists. Baylen looks for the man with the most ornate uniform. There is one just leaving the tower who looks to be the best dressed. He is followed by a bunch of people and seems important.
Baylen Cartwright walks right in as if he owns the place, and looks to the man who exited the tower. “Are you in charge here?”
The man nods. “I am. Who are you?”
“Baylen Cartwright. I assume by how calm you all are, you’re not aware of the impending Orcish army?”
The man takes notice. “Orcish army? Speak.”
“I came up from the South, sent by King Iskillien to check up on the wall. Crossroads Keep has been attacked, nearly sacked, and more approach from the Wall itself.” Baylen states rather bluntly, assuming that the man in charge of a military-bent meritocracy would be no-nonsense.
The man hands his parchment over to a follower. “How many?”
“Too many to count. A couple of thousand, if we’re lucky. If not, many more.”
“This came at the worst time.” He says, referencing the impending civil war.“Maybe, maybe not. However the, ah, King has agreed to a temporary truce, until the orc threat has been dealt with.”
The man doubts this. “How do I know he won’t shut us out as soon as we leave to fight for Dornari?”
“They expected the same thing from you, actually.” Baylen shrugs. “Orcs are bad business for everyone. You can’t collect taxes from a burnt city, after all.”
“And then with your forces weakened, you would plan to hold off the orc army? We have a day or two at most before the Orcs arrive; if you haven’t won by then, you’ll be fighting on two fronts.”
The man argues back against every point that Baylen raises. He insists that the walls will hold.
“How strong are your walls, then, if they’ll hold off orcs with explosives?” He sighs, he mutters something about ‘sense’ and ‘nine-year-old king’, as he looks towards the ocean.
The man orders people to escort Baylen away. Baylen Cartwright shakes his head at that, as he’s escorted away, but holds his tongue for once!
Avin gets the impression that the King and Queen have been kidnapped. He can hear a drow. Avin tells Baylen that the King has been kidnapped and he can hear the seagulls so he must be near the docks.#
Baylen Cartwright responds mentally! “Fantastic. Investigating. Royalty agreed to truce, Separatists did not. Probably war soon.”
He heads to the docks and takes a look about for anything suspicious! Any sign of a scuffle, cast off royal trinkets, and that sort of thing. He comes across a back alley and sees something happening. The Queen is knocked out and the King is arguing with a drow. She has a dark hood pulled over her head. She slaps him down.
There is a flash in the room and a hooded figure appears. He hears that a plan is in motion, crossroads smashed within the day, dispose and plant the King, ensure the war starts.
Baylen uses his gunsmith kit to dismantle the bars on the window. He attempts to sneak in and get the King’s attention without alerting anyone else. As he sneaks in, he steps on gravel that makes a crunching noise. The conversations stops abruptly so Baylen hides between barrels.
He manages to sneak up to the King unnoticed. Baylen Cartwright rouses the King, attempting to keep him quiet. He holds a finger to his lips in the universal gesture of “shut up you fucker.” and points to the window. The King gets out without making noise. Next, Baylen tries to (ar)rouse the Queen. She wakes up and starts speaking. Baylen points to the window and she gets up. She understands what Baylen intends. She leaves the room, climbing out the window quietly.
The conversation dies down and the last thing Baylen hears from them is “Deal with it.” There is a large flash. There are footsteps coming to the door. Baylen Cartwright rushes for the window and dives through it.
The cloak snags on a bar and Baylen dangles from the cloak. The person comes in and says, “What the-” and grabs him.
Meanwhile, Avin is playing with the flying machine that isn’t destroyed. He puts a crystal in the machine and it powers up. It seems ready to rock and roll. He decides to fix the landing thing.
The drow leans over to grab the escaping King but is met by the gun. She is shot twice and screams for someone to kill them. Baylen escapes out of the window.
They begin a comically obstacle fraught chase through the city.
Baylen brings him to the child King, barking orders. He demands that they stop their childish fighting and deal with the real threat.
“But the separatists!”
“THE SEPARATISTS ARE YOUR PEOPLE TOO.” King Horhand yells. Horlamin encourages the younger King to earn his throne. Baylen nods in agreement.
The young King is excited by this. He demands that the armies are called to arms and put under the control of Baylen.
“I’d be honoured to lead your forces.” Baylen says.
He plays it cool. “Muster the armies. I’ll need a roster of what we have available. Siege, cavalry, shock. And…” He grins at his clever scheme! “I’m going to go talk to the Separatists.”