Post by Josephus I on Mar 5, 2019 22:13:31 GMT
Chronicles of the Nova English - Part Four; Passing The Torch
Keltian Hinterland – 02/11/1004AJ 1345 (CMT+7)
Alric Daeg lay deathly still amongst the undergrowth as he tracked the moving vehicle in the distance. The battered but still functional LandFara trundled along a worn and potholed road in the Keltian hinterland. Inside the vehicle a sweat laden passenger shouted furiously at the driver, gesturing wildly with one hand whilst the other kept a firm grip of a small sealed metal case. Dr Henry Berkeley was furious, despite promises of untold riches awaiting him the cartel that had requested the sample of White Plague from Caputia had forced him to travel hundreds of miles through the hinterland of the Keltian Green. Each fuel stop in backwoods trading posts had him beyond agitated as he waited for his driver to argue and barter away scraps of Denarii and Kalgarrand in exchange for home-made fuel. During these pit stops he would nervously stroke the grip of the NEW 9mm pistol as he eyed the often armed locals in these strange and secluded locales. It was in these moments that he wondered whether the promise of a new life in Xang Muang and his weight in Kalgarrand was worth the risk of capture and death.
As his mind wandered through his life choices a loud bang and jolt from the vehicle announced the driver hitting another of the numerous potholes. Dr Berkeley turned to berate the driver with another abusive tirade but went silent as saw the bloody mess that had been the driver’s head. As the vehicle coasted to a halt he griped the case and pistol and nervously scanned the surrounding overgrowth for movement. In the distance his eye caught something glinting amongst the vegetation but before he could process this thought the door of the vehicle was wrenched open and several thousand volts of electricity passed through him until his spasming body slipped into unconsciousness.
Alric disarmed and carefully removed the silver case from the now unconscious man before dragging his target from the vehicle. As he did this other members of his team emerged from their camouflaged hides, quickly securing their new prisoner with cable ties while scanning their surrounds for any possible threats. Alric gave a sigh of relief as he zipped up the case within a protected portion of his rucksack. His back and legs groaned in protest as he stood back up, the long hike to the ambush had taking its toll on his now ageing body. He was now nearing his forty-sixth birthday and this mission was likely to be his last ‘hot’ field expedition as an SOE agent. The Intel gained from a Sea Reaver smuggler had been proven correct and had been worth the estate in Hempton and letter of citizenship gifted in recompense.
He began stretching in preparation for the hike back to their extraction point as one of his men coated the vehicle in the noxious home-made fuel and set it ablaze.
SOE Quarantine Safehouse (Southern Border Region) – 08/11/1004AJ 1800 (CMT+9)
Alric quickly got to his feet as a green light began to flash above the door and a buzzer sounded intermittently. Without hesitating he quickly left the sealed quarantine room that had housed him and the rest of the squad the last five days. He hated the new quarantine procedures but understood that the discomfort of a few days was worth it to prevent any outbreaks of White Plague within the Faedertellus. As he and his squad dragging their prisoner in tow left the room they were each taken away by a doctor for a final inspection. Alric duly followed the man in front of him into a curtained off partition. The doctor whose face and emotion was hidden by a medical mask began to poke and prod Alric as he searched him for any symptoms of the fungal plague. After ten minutes of this the doctor grunted his approval, Alric quickly dressed himself and began to leave but halted as the doctor began to speak.
‘I’m in need of a Hammer.’ Said the doctor as he pulled off his medical mask.
‘Normarkan or Babkhan?’ Replied Alric as he locked eyes with the doctor.
‘Babkhan.’ Said the doctor with a smile ‘Welcome back to the Faedertellus Brother Alric, I’ve been sent to pass you a message from the Grand Smith. He wishes to see you at his family’s old estate in Faederholm.’
‘Thank you Brother.’ Replied Alric ‘Fancy a quick pint?’
Outskirts of Faederholm – 09/11/1004AJ 0800 (CMT+9)
Alric cut the engine of his LandFara as he reached the wrought iron gates of the country manor. Yawning as he wiped the sleep from his eyes and the previous night’s drinking he waited for the armed guard to emerge from his hut. The guard eventually appeared from his shelter, his rifle held in the ready position with the safety disengaged. Alric wound down the window and called out to the approaching guard ‘I’ve come to see the boss!’
The guard grunted in response ‘Papers?’
‘Ah yes, er... one moment.’ Said Alric as he ransack the glove compartment in search of his ID. As he passed the documents to the guard he made a show of the Anvil brand on his arm. The guard caught sight of this then scrutinised the documents.
‘Thank you Brother.’ Replied the guard as he handed the document back to Alric. ‘The Boss should be in the drawing room having breakfast.’
Alric gave the guard a thumbs up in response and drove through the now open gates towards the manor. As he neared the building he took in the elegance of the once grand structure. Patches of new brickwork and pockmarked stonework marked the period where it had stood derelict following the evacuations. At the front of the manor Alric parked his car next to a gathering of sports cars and utility vehicles. At the entrance he was waved through by another two armed guards, one of which split off from his duties to escort him to the Drawing room.
He was led into a well-lit room, its walls clad by bookshelves that contained tomes from across Micras. Sat by one of the windows an elderly man thumbed through a book in between puffs from his pipe. The guard gave a polite cough to get the elderly man’s attention ‘Sir, you have a visitor.’
The elderly man turned to the two younger men stood at the door. ‘Christ Alric! You’ve gotten old!’ He said laughing at his own joke. ‘Brother Mathew you can leave us now, I have some private affairs that I must discuss with Mr Daeg here.’
Brother Mathew nodded and left the room to resume his vigil at the main entrance.
Alric strode across the room and embraced his former lecturer ‘Sir its’ been too long!’
The old man smiled and readjusted his glasses ‘Aye brother Alric, it’s good to see you. It’s rare these days that I get the chance to see my former students but time takes its toll and despite a good run mine is slowly fading.’ Alric looked at his old lecturer in confusion ‘Ah don’t look at me like that, I’m an old bastard and as such its time I took on an apprentice before I kick the bucket.’
Alric was lost for words as he tried to piece together the information ‘So do you need me to collect the candidate sir?’
The old man jabbed Alric in the side with his pipe and said ‘No you arseling! I want to take you on as my apprentice! You’ve been a shining example to the brotherhood, never shying away from the work required to protect the Faedertellus and most importantly you’ve always maintained my trust and good judgment. When I pass on from this world we will need you to continue the work and the grand plan.’ Alric stood unable to speak, his mouth opened and closed but no speech follow, the old man tutted and continued to speak ‘Did I ever tell you the story of this place?’ Alric shook his head.
‘Ah good.’ Said the old man. ‘Over a hundred years ago as the Evacuations took hold my grandfather was called to service at the National Redoubt. He left his home here with my young father and handed the keys to his staff with the promise that they may use the estate as refuge until his return. Sadly as the doors to the Redoubt were finally sealed he volunteered with the Martyrs brigade to hold off the insurgents and refugees that tried to gain entry into the bunker. But through his sacrifice my father was able to grow into a man in that same bunker where I was then born and when the doors once again opened and we retook the Faedertellus, I came back here to find my ancestral home. When I arrived here the manor was ravaged by the passing of time and violence but the descendants of those staff that my grandfather had given shelter to, had stayed and protected it with the belief that one day the Faedertellus would rise again and my family would return to reclaim its home. They had taken one of our core tenets and kept the embers burning.’ The old man took a long drag on his pipe before expelling a plume of acrid smoke. ‘It is our purpose to protect those embers and ensure those that seek to extinguish them are cut down swiftly. You have youth on your side and have travelled across this world, experience that I never had when I took the mantle of Grand Smith.’
The old man placed his wrinkled hand upon Alric’s shoulder ‘It will be you Alric Daeg who I wish to pass the torch of the brotherhood to.’
Keltian Hinterland – 02/11/1004AJ 1345 (CMT+7)
Alric Daeg lay deathly still amongst the undergrowth as he tracked the moving vehicle in the distance. The battered but still functional LandFara trundled along a worn and potholed road in the Keltian hinterland. Inside the vehicle a sweat laden passenger shouted furiously at the driver, gesturing wildly with one hand whilst the other kept a firm grip of a small sealed metal case. Dr Henry Berkeley was furious, despite promises of untold riches awaiting him the cartel that had requested the sample of White Plague from Caputia had forced him to travel hundreds of miles through the hinterland of the Keltian Green. Each fuel stop in backwoods trading posts had him beyond agitated as he waited for his driver to argue and barter away scraps of Denarii and Kalgarrand in exchange for home-made fuel. During these pit stops he would nervously stroke the grip of the NEW 9mm pistol as he eyed the often armed locals in these strange and secluded locales. It was in these moments that he wondered whether the promise of a new life in Xang Muang and his weight in Kalgarrand was worth the risk of capture and death.
As his mind wandered through his life choices a loud bang and jolt from the vehicle announced the driver hitting another of the numerous potholes. Dr Berkeley turned to berate the driver with another abusive tirade but went silent as saw the bloody mess that had been the driver’s head. As the vehicle coasted to a halt he griped the case and pistol and nervously scanned the surrounding overgrowth for movement. In the distance his eye caught something glinting amongst the vegetation but before he could process this thought the door of the vehicle was wrenched open and several thousand volts of electricity passed through him until his spasming body slipped into unconsciousness.
Alric disarmed and carefully removed the silver case from the now unconscious man before dragging his target from the vehicle. As he did this other members of his team emerged from their camouflaged hides, quickly securing their new prisoner with cable ties while scanning their surrounds for any possible threats. Alric gave a sigh of relief as he zipped up the case within a protected portion of his rucksack. His back and legs groaned in protest as he stood back up, the long hike to the ambush had taking its toll on his now ageing body. He was now nearing his forty-sixth birthday and this mission was likely to be his last ‘hot’ field expedition as an SOE agent. The Intel gained from a Sea Reaver smuggler had been proven correct and had been worth the estate in Hempton and letter of citizenship gifted in recompense.
He began stretching in preparation for the hike back to their extraction point as one of his men coated the vehicle in the noxious home-made fuel and set it ablaze.
SOE Quarantine Safehouse (Southern Border Region) – 08/11/1004AJ 1800 (CMT+9)
Alric quickly got to his feet as a green light began to flash above the door and a buzzer sounded intermittently. Without hesitating he quickly left the sealed quarantine room that had housed him and the rest of the squad the last five days. He hated the new quarantine procedures but understood that the discomfort of a few days was worth it to prevent any outbreaks of White Plague within the Faedertellus. As he and his squad dragging their prisoner in tow left the room they were each taken away by a doctor for a final inspection. Alric duly followed the man in front of him into a curtained off partition. The doctor whose face and emotion was hidden by a medical mask began to poke and prod Alric as he searched him for any symptoms of the fungal plague. After ten minutes of this the doctor grunted his approval, Alric quickly dressed himself and began to leave but halted as the doctor began to speak.
‘I’m in need of a Hammer.’ Said the doctor as he pulled off his medical mask.
‘Normarkan or Babkhan?’ Replied Alric as he locked eyes with the doctor.
‘Babkhan.’ Said the doctor with a smile ‘Welcome back to the Faedertellus Brother Alric, I’ve been sent to pass you a message from the Grand Smith. He wishes to see you at his family’s old estate in Faederholm.’
‘Thank you Brother.’ Replied Alric ‘Fancy a quick pint?’
Outskirts of Faederholm – 09/11/1004AJ 0800 (CMT+9)
Alric cut the engine of his LandFara as he reached the wrought iron gates of the country manor. Yawning as he wiped the sleep from his eyes and the previous night’s drinking he waited for the armed guard to emerge from his hut. The guard eventually appeared from his shelter, his rifle held in the ready position with the safety disengaged. Alric wound down the window and called out to the approaching guard ‘I’ve come to see the boss!’
The guard grunted in response ‘Papers?’
‘Ah yes, er... one moment.’ Said Alric as he ransack the glove compartment in search of his ID. As he passed the documents to the guard he made a show of the Anvil brand on his arm. The guard caught sight of this then scrutinised the documents.
‘Thank you Brother.’ Replied the guard as he handed the document back to Alric. ‘The Boss should be in the drawing room having breakfast.’
Alric gave the guard a thumbs up in response and drove through the now open gates towards the manor. As he neared the building he took in the elegance of the once grand structure. Patches of new brickwork and pockmarked stonework marked the period where it had stood derelict following the evacuations. At the front of the manor Alric parked his car next to a gathering of sports cars and utility vehicles. At the entrance he was waved through by another two armed guards, one of which split off from his duties to escort him to the Drawing room.
He was led into a well-lit room, its walls clad by bookshelves that contained tomes from across Micras. Sat by one of the windows an elderly man thumbed through a book in between puffs from his pipe. The guard gave a polite cough to get the elderly man’s attention ‘Sir, you have a visitor.’
The elderly man turned to the two younger men stood at the door. ‘Christ Alric! You’ve gotten old!’ He said laughing at his own joke. ‘Brother Mathew you can leave us now, I have some private affairs that I must discuss with Mr Daeg here.’
Brother Mathew nodded and left the room to resume his vigil at the main entrance.
Alric strode across the room and embraced his former lecturer ‘Sir its’ been too long!’
The old man smiled and readjusted his glasses ‘Aye brother Alric, it’s good to see you. It’s rare these days that I get the chance to see my former students but time takes its toll and despite a good run mine is slowly fading.’ Alric looked at his old lecturer in confusion ‘Ah don’t look at me like that, I’m an old bastard and as such its time I took on an apprentice before I kick the bucket.’
Alric was lost for words as he tried to piece together the information ‘So do you need me to collect the candidate sir?’
The old man jabbed Alric in the side with his pipe and said ‘No you arseling! I want to take you on as my apprentice! You’ve been a shining example to the brotherhood, never shying away from the work required to protect the Faedertellus and most importantly you’ve always maintained my trust and good judgment. When I pass on from this world we will need you to continue the work and the grand plan.’ Alric stood unable to speak, his mouth opened and closed but no speech follow, the old man tutted and continued to speak ‘Did I ever tell you the story of this place?’ Alric shook his head.
‘Ah good.’ Said the old man. ‘Over a hundred years ago as the Evacuations took hold my grandfather was called to service at the National Redoubt. He left his home here with my young father and handed the keys to his staff with the promise that they may use the estate as refuge until his return. Sadly as the doors to the Redoubt were finally sealed he volunteered with the Martyrs brigade to hold off the insurgents and refugees that tried to gain entry into the bunker. But through his sacrifice my father was able to grow into a man in that same bunker where I was then born and when the doors once again opened and we retook the Faedertellus, I came back here to find my ancestral home. When I arrived here the manor was ravaged by the passing of time and violence but the descendants of those staff that my grandfather had given shelter to, had stayed and protected it with the belief that one day the Faedertellus would rise again and my family would return to reclaim its home. They had taken one of our core tenets and kept the embers burning.’ The old man took a long drag on his pipe before expelling a plume of acrid smoke. ‘It is our purpose to protect those embers and ensure those that seek to extinguish them are cut down swiftly. You have youth on your side and have travelled across this world, experience that I never had when I took the mantle of Grand Smith.’
The old man placed his wrinkled hand upon Alric’s shoulder ‘It will be you Alric Daeg who I wish to pass the torch of the brotherhood to.’
