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[Mr. Dwarfinton]

The Doctor took hold of the skin and began to study it quietly as Weylanders looked closely to him, as if he were going to turn it into a source they could read from. Instead he gave them a broken, somewhat correct translation. "Eh... it says something along the lines of 'The Ewunst are weak and McKunkley are smart to not waste troops to help them. Due to inability talk McJunstoon prove worth on battlefielding and earn the position of Honk among us. Dontald will second-in-command and make Dunc not try something.' Well..." The Doctor took a moment as he went over the words in his head. "What I want to know is who is Ewunst, McKunkley, McJunstoon, Dontald and Dunc? And what is the position of Honk?" The Doctor scratched his chin as he went over it in his head. As he opened his mouth one of the guards said something, "Uh, sir, me thinks that th' Ewunst be the Ewans. McKunkley may be's McKinley. An' McJunstoon may be's you, McJohnston. Th' Dontald may be Donald, sir. I may be's correct in sayin' tha' Dunc is you, Doc." The Doctor nodded at the guard and proceeded to talk, "So two tribes have an alliance, correct? One is smart enough to stop giving help to one and we're trying to take down the weaker side? And to earn the reward you offer me I have to take part in the fight with Donald?" He thought the idea over and then continued, "I am slightly insulted you would think that I might turn on you. But I will take up the fight and help you." He turned to Donald and asked him about the best battle strategy and how the Ewans fought.

Action: Ask Donald the best battle strategy and how the Ewans fight.

((Would I already command extra troops if I'm fighting in a battle to absorb a tribe? If so, ignore the action))
((E: Ignore that. I misunderstood what he was saying. Silly me.))

[Taricus]

Taric paced quickly through the halls of the manor, with seven guards following him. When he reached the door to Trubaldsome's room, he gave it two knocks, staying as silent as the guards with him.

[Terenos]

After a conversation with Manning

Terenos was keeping an eye out on the city, just in case. He spotted Drua approaching, but wasn't about to inform his men of this. When they moved to accost her, he waves them off, moving towards her himself.
"Ah, Drua. Another friendly face. We were just about to go and sort things out." Taking note of her armaments, Terenos decided to invite her along.
"You'd be more than welcome to join us in clearing out this peasant rabble."
Proceed with previously stated actions!

[Iituem]

((Nope. I'm sans fancy armor at the moment, I'll get it on my way back. Also, This is not a situation a fire can help. Sigh. But we're still on board for the outright murder.))

Terenos grins and salutes with his longsword, then lets loose with some raucous laughter "Hah! Like I'd carve up a castle full of traitors *wink* and then ditch the rest of the festivities. Well this brightens my bleak odds a fair bit. "

This bit he shouts back to his men: "Ya hear that lads? Peasant rabble. Thats how desperate Preston is. We'll be feasting in Preston's hall before the year is out."
Back to Manning:

"Any chance you can manuever us in such a way as to cut off these peasant regiments? I reckon they'll cut and run at the first opportunity if they run into real soldiers. But they'll want their plunder. Mayhaps I can drive em into an ambush set up by you and yours. You and yours know the city better than me, You pick the spot, we'll cut em down. Try not to be too far away just in case we fall into the deep shit."

Terenos has Manning set up an ambush, then endeavors to drive an enemy regiment into it. If they're a peasant regiment, slaughter them. If they're a real regiment, try to capture.
As usual, Terenos leads from the front. Firm advance through the streets. Stay in formation.

[1+3 vs 6+1]  Manning moves into position to prepare an ambush whilst you and your two regiments try to drive peasants and rebels through the streets into their trap.  Unfortunately, the numerically inferior peasants come at your troops from all sides and the planned ambush turns into a bitter melee.  You and Drua, who has joined you, manage to hold your own but both your new personal guard and the king's regiment are utterly slaughtered in the fight, albeit taking the peasants with them.

Manning's crew is the only remaining regiment at your disposal, but on the bright side they are fully capable of setting ambushes on their own - and will work better at it without the obvious presence of the larger regiments.

[Luck turned on you - but it could have been worse.  Without the added bonus of Manning's troops you wouldn't even have been able to score the hit against the one peasant regiment.]

The Doctor took hold of the skin and began to study it quietly as Weylanders looked closely to him, as if he were going to turn it into a source they could read from. Instead he gave them a broken, somewhat correct translation. "Eh... it says something along the lines of 'The Ewunst are weak and McKunkley are smart to not waste troops to help them. Due to inability talk McJunstoon prove worth on battlefielding and earn the position of Honk among us. Dontald will second-in-command and make Dunc not try something.' Well..." The Doctor took a moment as he went over the words in his head. "What I want to know is who is Ewunst, McKunkley, McJunstoon, Dontald and Dunc? And what is the position of Honk?" The Doctor scratched his chin as he went over it in his head. As he opened his mouth one of the guards said something, "Uh, sir, me thinks that th' Ewunst be the Ewans. McKunkley may be's McKinley. An' McJunstoon may be's you, McJohnston. Th' Dontald may be Donald, sir. I may be's correct in sayin' tha' Dunc is you, Doc." The Doctor nodded at the guard and proceeded to talk, "So two tribes have an alliance, correct? One is smart enough to stop giving help to one and we're trying to take down the weaker side? And to earn the reward you offer me I have to take part in the fight with Donald?" He thought the idea over and then continued, "I am slightly insulted you would think that I might turn on you. But I will take up the fight and help you." He turned to Donald and asked him about the best battle strategy and how the Ewans fought.

Action: Ask Donald the best battle strategy and how the Ewans fought.

((Would I already command extra troops if I'm fighting in a battle to absorb a tribe? If so, ignore the action))
((E: Ignore that. I misunderstood what he was saying. Silly me.))

[Normally I should handle this, but as this is a request for information rather than a roll, I'm going to let thatkid answer because he has a better handle on the McEwans' strategies.]


Edit:  Sorry about the short responses, just come back from rehearsal and all tired out.

[Yoink]

Trubaldsome had decided to write in his journal, for the first time in weeks. He was rather lax when it came to updating his journal, what with how his fingers always ached from holding a quill, getting ink on his hands, and having to squint for so long at the paper. But he was updating it now, hunched over at his desk, in his hand a fine, decorative quill, looping around in cursive handwriting on the paper.
His bewildering hand-writing, filled with excessive amounts of unnecessary loops and squirly bits, served as an unintentional measure to keep prying eyes from reading it.

...and my time here has been most difficulty-fraught indeed. These weak-headed, bumbling fools I brought with me have done little good, merely causing me trouble at every turn, a dangerous trait indeed in this dangerous place, where the King barely holds his throne with scheming "advisors" like that bastard- no, not poetic enoughvillain Kaguro, the peasant-turned-general who watches the King's back like a vicious hawk, if only to put a dagger in it.
In addition, my troubles are compounded by a certain unfortunate legacy from my time back home. Those many, beautiful honey-red sweet, stickyred-hot nights with the beautiful, graceful courtesans of Miring's grand court have had a somewhat nasty effect; an effect by the name of Bromwich Blight. Apparently that itchy rash around the royal jewels was infact the symptom of a terrible disease, or so the rather comely apothecary Drua tells me.
Terribly embarassing, and not to mention the very-real possibility of death! Apparently there is no readily-available cure, but I am having men scour this stinking pigsty and its surrounds for anyone who knows of one. At least I still have Waery. Despite the man's many faults, not least his filthy peasant heritage, he has proven to be as loyal to me as he was to Father. He is the only one I can trust. All the others, everyone else in this court, this city, are out to get me. Why, there are assassins jumping out of wardrobes all over the castle! If this... Hang on. There is someone at the door, so I shall sign off now.

Trubaldsome looked up from his lavish, leather-bound journal of the finest paper in irritation. He was seated at his desk in his red-leather armchair, with his royal feet soaking in a richly-scented footbath, the calming smells helping to ease the discomfort from his... Condition. Not quite as quickly as his snuff, but he certainly found it rather relaxing.
"Waaaery!! Door!" He shouted, then set down his quill and flexed his sore hand, grimacing with annoyance.
"Who dares, who dares simply walk up and bang on my door unannounced?" He muttered to himself under his breath.
"I should have their filthy hide flayed from their back, red-hot spikes rammed up their..." He took a soothing, calming pinch of the miraculous white powder in the box before him, and composed himself to see whoever was outside.

Meanwhile Waery, in the next room, was victim of yet another instance of coitus-interruptus, and once again he shoved the whore off his bed and hastily put on his clothes, altough this time he buckled on his swordbelt, complete with his broadsword, shortsword and dagger.
With that reassuring weight clinking at his side, he moved into Trubaldsome's room, grunting, "I'll jes' see who et is, M'lord..." and pulled open the door, laying one hand readily on his sword as he swiftly assessed those outside. "Yes? Is there bein' a problem 'ere, Lord Taric?" He narrowed his eyes, ready to slam the heavy door in the face of anyone attempting to rush in. Waery was an experienced soldier, he could read these men, they were quite plainly up to something.
Waery opens the door warily, watching Taric's men outside. If anyone tries to barge in, he slams the door in their faces, draws his broadsword, and shouts for his men.

((Sorry if this is ridiculously long... ))

[Terenos]

((Wow I simply cannot keep a regiment. Oh well.))

Terenos kicked a peasant off his blade and looked around the battlefield. Muttering to himself "Damn my misfortune. Mayhaps I shouldn't lead." He cleaned his blade on a scrap of tunic and sauntered down the street, seeking out Manning's forces.

Rejoin Manning's Crew. Lay trap. Personally attempt to lead another regiment into it.
Oh if you like, leave that last part up in the air for a bit. It could be...Delicious. At the very least I want to find another enemy regiment.

[KaguroDraven]

((D-Does Trubaldsome actuilly beleive what he's writeing? Seriously. That's just insane.

[Little]

Drua curses angrily as she steps in another puddle of blood, gingerly steeping around the corpses of slain peasants, a few she recognized as faces she'd seen down her the length of her sword not too long ago. Good goddess, that was a bloodbath! She turns to the side for a moment, bends over, and retches. She'd been in fights and the occasional battle before, had killed in self-defense before, but never seen a slaughter like this! Their troops had been annihilated, gone like water boiled out of a bowl! She had fought her best, but that ass Terenos evidently had no idea how to lead, if these were the results! Drua stalks up to Terenos, furious.

"That was a travesty! I'm going to follow you through to the end on this, but I swear by all the grasses and herbs, if you get us killed through your own damn incompetence, I hope you go to your grave knowing it!"

Drua glares at him, and without giving him a chance to respond, storms off.

Keep with Terenos and follow more of his doomed plans.

[Terenos]

((We're alive arent we? From where I'm standing, thats a win. ..Though I see your point. Every damn time I have a regiment in a combat situation, 1's get rolled...Yep. Now to go do something that makes me feel marginally better about leading virtual soldiers to their deaths.. Like..slaughtering more virtual soldiers. And their villagers. Slaughter these villages? Yes..Always yes.))

[Jormundur]

((Yea. You guys can't really complain. To me it seems every time I try and do something to help myself I have just the luck so that it backfires, but then I get just lucky enough to get myself out of it. I've spent most of the year trying to get some piece of land and after that much time I now have 1 parcel with 1 small town, 2 ducats, no army, and apparently a swarm of Ztah raiders and Brighthall bandits that all want to kill me. At this point I almost want my character to get killed, but at the same time at least I can't say I'm bored at all.))

[thatkid]

((Yea. You guys can't really complain. To me it seems every time I try and do something to help myself I have just the luck so that it backfires, but then I get just lucky enough to get myself out of it. I've spent most of the year trying to get some piece of land and after that much time I now have 1 parcel with 1 small town, 2 ducats, no army, and apparently a swarm of Ztah raiders and Brighthall bandits that all want to kill me. At this point I almost want my character to get killed, but at the same time at least I can't say I'm bored at all.))

OOC:
Actually, most of the raiders are waiting for someone else to kill you so they can swoop in and take whatever might be left. I said they were like vultures for a reason. Just because a scout doesn't come back doesn't mean they're dead. The regiment is technically gone so some of the group that remains (and has no mechanical effect due to their small numbers) are deserting. You do have a combined force of between 1 to 2 regiments that you know are planning to attack though (Yevenov's are weak enough that it may well be that their forces combined with the bandits are only enough for one regiment. I'm still debating this, but that's the incredibly likely case.) Just to clarify so that you know your situation isn't hopeless. It's just a lot more difficult to gain land in the Ztah Steppes because, well, it's the Ztah Steppes which are characterized by violent raiders and constantly shifting boundaries of control.

I too wonder if Trubaldsome actually believes some of the things he writes/thinks. The fact that he may or may not be insanely paranoid actually just makes the character a lot more interesting...and all the more tragic should he fail (or even succeed, really). I'm betting that Trubaldsome writes his diary with the idea that someday people will read it though, and so he's writing it for an audience.

Anyways, no substance in this post right now. I'm busy making plans for tonight. I'll maybe make another post (or just edit this if it isn't necessary to make a new post) in a bit.

[Little]

((We're alive arent we? From where I'm standing, thats a win. ..Though I see your point. Every damn time I have a regiment in a combat situation, 1's get rolled...Yep. Now to go do something that makes me feel marginally better about leading virtual soldiers to their deaths.. Like..slaughtering more virtual soldiers. And their villagers. Slaughter these villages? Yes..Always yes.))

((I have no problem with it, but my virtual person does ))

[Taricus]

"I'm here to see Trubaldsome. Now. Resistance will be met with steel."

[filiusenox]

Amaryllis sighed- out loud this time- and walked to the Alchemist's new room and knocked on the door.  Muttering a curse of peasant origin, she checks to see if she still has the shortsword strapped to her leg as she stares at the door, dully waiting for him to answer.

Talk with the alchemist.

[Yoink]

Waery was unimpressed. "I don' like yer tone, Mister high-an'-mighty. If'n want t' talk t' Lord Trubaldsome, yer asks nicely an' make a 'pointment, aye!" He glanced over the soldiers behind Taric, then jerked his head towards the stairs.
"Now get ye gone, I've got m'self more important things t' be doin'." As he spoke, the next door down the hall creaked open as the still-unpaid young woman made her way out of Waery's room.
"'Ey, you lot! Men of Miring!" He calls down the stairs in the general direction of Trubaldsome's men.
"Get ye lazy corpses up 'ere, men!"

Waery simply refuses Taric entry, ready to jump back and slam the door if anyone tries to get in, and calls for his soldiers downstairs.