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<Orlann> ::as has become a regular event, Orlann spent the afternoon at the orphanage, assisting Meghan with various repairs and in general helping out. As always, he wraps up his visits by visiting with the children and telling a few stories. The sun is just starting to sink into the horizon when he wraps up his last story of the day:: * Tarri spent the afternoon working with some of the older girls, teaching sewing and other domestic basics until Orlann was ready for storytime. * Meghan is sitting in her office while the children are occupied, trying to get some much needed paperwork done. <Orlann> ::in a low, confidential voice:: And so, you see, the two children fooled the witch, and when she was distracted, they pushed her into the oven. She screamed and screamed, but the two children ran all the way back to their home. When they got there, they discovered that their father's new wife had taken her things and left. And they lived happily ever after. <Meghan> ::Abby is sitting among the children, listening intently to Orlann:: * Tarri looks a little taken aback at the gruesome ending to the fairy-tale, but eyes the fascinated and delighted children and shrugs. * Orlann yawns with exaggeration. "Well, y'all've been right attentive today..." He looks over at Tarri. "And if you ask right nicely, I think Miss Tarri brought a nice bag of sugar-snaps." * Tarri digs in her sewing basket and comes up with a bag. She looks at the hopeful faces, then peers cautiously into the bag, as if she's not *entirely* sure Orlann has told them the truth. * Meghan pushed back from her desk and settled the neat pile of papers to one side. She stood and stretched before walking across the hall to the room where all of the children were. Leaning against the door frame she smiled at the group. <Orlann> ::looking up:: Ah, caught in the act of bribing your children, I confess it, Miss Meghan... <Tarri> Well, what do you know? Cookies! ::she lifts one out and examines it carefully:: Probably not the sort that little boys and girls like, though... <Meghan> ::smirks:: Just so long as they were attentive and quiet. <Orlann> Ain't they always just the best? ::he stands up:: * Meghan chuckles softly and smiles as one of the younger and shy girls comes to stand beside her. "Oh yes always." <Orlann> ::the children are not fooled by deception and cluster around her bag eagerly, attempting to persuade her that sugar snaps are *exactly* the sorts of cookies that they like:: * Tarri laughs as she distributes the cookies to the children, who have by now learned that "magic words" must be used. As the last of them wanders away, crumb-faced, she picks up her basket and joins Orlann and Meghan. She offers Meghan one of the few remaining cookies, one side broken off. "Breaks and crumbs are all I have left..." <Orlann> ::grins and fishes out a bit of broken cookie:: That's the best kind, darling. <Meghan> ::chuckles and takes the cookie:: Thank you Tarri, and you Orlann. <Tarri> By the way, Meghan, that darling child with the dark brown hair - Jayne? She's got a lovely hand with embroidery, and it won't be too long until she's too old to stay here. I think I can help you place her with a good seamstress, to do decorative work. <Meghan> Oh wonderful. I was just going to start looking for a placement for her. <Tarri> ::smiles:: I'll ask around and see what I can find. ::she pulls a half-cookie from the bottom of her bag and pops it into her mouth:: <Meghan> ::nods:: Good. <Tarri> ::packs the emptied bag back into her sewing basket:: Well. Have you any plans for the rest of the day? * Meghan shakes her head and picks up Abby, who has wandered over. "Nothing really. Spending the afternoon with my daughter." Smiles * Orlann makes a silly face at Abby. "And a sweet and darling child she is... " <Tarri> ::grins:: I thought I might drop by and visit Loria. I *still* haven't been by to see her girls, yet. Do you want to come? <Meghan> ::Abby giggles at Orlann and snuggles against Meg:: <Meghan> ::nods:: That would be lovely. I have not seen them yet either. <Tarri> Wonderful! ::she tucks her arm through Orlann's:: Shall we? <Orlann> I ain't met her at all, yet. But her brother seemed mostly nice enough, even if his wife's a bit of an odd duck... * Meghan nods and settles Abby on her hip. * Meghan chuckles softly. <Tarri> ::laughs:: Loria's very nice. Except to Vallel, of course, but sisters are *supposed* to pick on their brothers. And you've met Kevil, too. <Orlann> ::considers:: The dark-haired fellow with the fondness for his mirror? * Meghan laughs. <Tarri> ::laugh:: Yes, that one. * Orlann follows Tarri out of the orphanage, extending one hand to assist Meghan down the stairs. * Meghan takes Orlann's hand with a smile and then moves to walk beside the couple * Tarri fills the walk with chatter about the orphanage's children, observing various talents and asking about their wishes and hopes. <Orlann> ::the streets are strangely quiet as a dark storm brews over the river, swirling clouds and occasionally flickering of distant lightning:: * Meghan is more than happy to contribute to the conversation, being that the children are among her favorite subjects. <Orlann> ::as they move from the less well-to-do sections of town into the more upscale neighborhoods, the crackle of thunder echoes over the river, then fades again:: * Tarri glances up at the sky. "I hope we make it before that breaks..." <Meghan> ::Abby whimpers and hugs tight to Meghan:: * Meghan nods "Yeah" <Orlann> ::looks up at the sky:: I think it's moving out from here... maybe the river'll take it down to the Dragonsmere... <Tarri> ::looks up again thoughtfully:: Let's hope so. <Tarri> I *like* walking in the rain sometimes, but that doesn't look like a gentle spring shower. <Loria> ::the pale walls of Loria's home gleam in the setting sun. Several bunches of roses are growing around the door in thick hedges - pale pink and soft yellow and a deep burnished copper:: * Meghan puts Abby down close to the bushes and leans close to smell the roses with the little girl. * Tarri pauses to admire the flowers, bending to breathe in their rich scent. "I wish I had room to grow flowers..." She touches a copper-colored rose in full bloom. "These are new." <Orlann> ::dubiously:: We could prolly grow a bit of pansies or the like in a window box, darling, but roses need a bit of space... <Meghan> Yes that's one of the things I miss most about living out at Ellesmere. <Tarri> I know, love. Well, maybe one day I'll have a place with enough space for a little garden. ::she looks up at the enormous house:: Nothing *this* big, though. I'd *hate* to have to clean all this. ::she grins and knocks:: * Meghan chuckles and nods, standing again and pulling Abby back up into her arms. <Orlann> ::looks distinctly relieved:: That's for sure... I ain't never lived in a place quite so large. * Ree opens the door, drying her hands on her apron. She is an older woman with a plain, pock-marked face, though she smiles happily. She looks at Orlann curiously, then nods at the trio. "G'day ladies, sir. What can I do for you?" * Orlann looks even more shy at the approach of a servant. <Tarri> We were hoping to visit with Mistress Loria and the babies, if they're home... <Ree> Just a minute, let me see if she's up to visitors. You all can come in and wait in the foyer, here. It looks like it's about to rain. ::She steps back to admit them to the foyer, then disappears into the house:: * Meghan steps in and glances around, switching Abby from one hip to the other. * Orlann timidly crosses into the foyer and looks around at the tasteful decorations. "Don't I just feel like the proverbial bull?" <Tarri> ::grins:: Another half-year or so, and they'll have to pack all this fine stuff up to keep it out of the babies' hands. * Meghan chuckles and nods. * Ree comes back. "Mistress Loria says I'm to bring you to the music room to visit. If you'll follow me...?" She steps toward an open door and glances back to make sure they're following. <Tarri> * Ree leads the trio through a garden atrium with a softly babbling water fountain and down a long, lavishly decorated hallway. Finally, she opens one side of a pair of double doors, and gestures them through before walking back up the hall. * Meghan takes in everything as they walk, having not been in the house before. * Loria looks up from her harp. "Good evening, Tarri dear... and Meghan..." She stands up, eying Orlann curiously. The twin girls are laying on a thick cotton blanket on the floor. Shavyl is absently beating the floor with a stuffed squid while Aylin is attempting with a great deal of energy, to pull a bow off her clothing. <Tarri> Loria, this is Corporal Orlann. I hope you don't mind us dragging him along to meet your girls... <Loria> ::drops a neat curtsey:: Good evening, Corporal. I'm happy to meet you. ::she gestures to the girls:: These are my daughters, Aylin and Shavyl. * Meghan smiles at Loria then looks over to the babies. "Oh Loria, they are just beautiful." SHe carefully holds Abby over the girls. Abby grins and waves her hands at them. <Orlann> ::bows to Loria:: I've heard much about you, ma'am, from Tarri here. ::looks at Loria seriously:: <Loria> ::Shavyl rolls over onto her stomach to observe the older girl:: <Loria> ::grins at Orlann:: Have you now? Did she bother to tell you all the hundreds of times she used to come over to steal a bit of bread and my mother's strawberry jam? * Tarri flashes Orlann a smile and drops to her knees beside the blanket to admire the babies. "Aren't you just *adorable*?" She can't resist brushing a hand over Aylin's baby-soft curling black hair. <Loria> ::Aylin babbles something incoherent at Tarri, waving her arms:: <Tarri> ::glances back at Loria with a grin:: Your Ma made the best strawberry jam in the whole town, Lori'. ::loyally:: After my Mama, of course. * Meghan settles Abby on the floor beside the blanket and holds her firmly just out of range of grabbing at the girls. * Orlann awkwardly finds a seat on the floor near the blanket. <Loria> ::smiles a bit sadly:: Your mama made the best cookies, though... ::she seats herself near her harp again:: Is this the young man Vallel was telling me about the other day? ::her cheeks pink slightly:: <Tarri> ::smiling:: I suppose so... I guess it depends on what he was telling you. But we did have dinner with him and Gloss about a week ago. * Meghan talks quietly to Abby, pointing out Loria and then back to the girls. Abby looks back and forth between them. <Loria> ::nods:: That'd be the one... ::she smooths her skirts:: I'm afraid you find me all alone tonight, except for the girls. My husbands are out attending a recital this evening. * Orlann blinks, then stares at her for a long moment, mouthing the word 'husbands.' * Meghan smiles. "How are Kevil and Diya?" <Tarri> ::colors a little, having encountered one or two whispers of gossip about Loria's second husband:: Oh, that's too bad. <Loria> They're quite well... I expect a long and detailed critique of Waterdhavian music when Kevil comes home this evening. I think Diya only went along because he's getting stir crazy again. We really need to get him a horse, I think. * Meghan grins and nods. Abby struggles out of Meghan's arms and walks slowly over to Loria, studying her intently. <Loria> ::looks down:: Well, hello Abby dear... ::looks over at Meghan:: She's growing just like a weed, isn't she? <Tarri> ::grins:: These two don't keep him occupied enough? ::she waves at the babies, then allows Shavyl to capture her finger and gum on it:: <Meghan> ::nods:: Yes, she is. ::she glances back to the girls:: Savor the time, it goes by too fast. <Loria> ::a bit sadly:: Diya's... not quite at home here yet. I think he misses the desert. <Meghan> ::Abby smiles at Loria and moves closer. HEr attention is quickly drawn to other things in the room:: <Meghan> Are you planning on going back soon? <Loria> ::shrugs:: In a few more months, probably. I don't really think it's all that good for the girls to move around so much. Of course, Kevil thinks the swamp air is bad for them, and I'm worried about the sun in Alanis. ::she laughs:: Guess we're all used to what we're used to. * Meghan chuckles and nods. * Orlann engages in a little tug-of-war with Shavyl, teasing her with the stuffed toy. <Tarri> ::lifts the still-babbling Aylin into her lap and smiles at Orlann before looking up at Loria:: Anytime you want a babysitter, send for me. They're so darling... <Loria> ::looks relieved:: Oh, *would* you? It's been a while since we've all three been able to go out at once. Of course, I don't think Kevil notices much... he's so wrapped around their little fingers. <Orlann> ::looking up:: Who wouldn't be, ma'am? <Tarri> ::laughs:: I can just see that, too... I'd be delighted, really. * Meghan smiles and watches, keeping half an eye on Abby who is wandering. <Loria> ::grins:: Well, I love having them around - I never thought I'd have any children... but sometimes it's nice to have a bit of adult time. <Meghan> ::nods:: I can understand that. * Orcs burst into the room through the porch doors and the windows into the music room. One of the first ones in the room strikes Orlann a jarring blow to the head with the pommel of the heavy knife he has in his hand, and Orlann drops like a stone to the floor and does not move. Outside, other crashings up and down the street can be heard. <Orcs> ::the orcs are at least six feet in height, thickly muscled, and wear boiled leather breastplates that have metal plating sewn to them, and most are carrying heavy knives that have barbed hooks along their backs. They pour into the room, each of the women grabbed by two orcs, a single orc going to each of the children, laying a knifepoint to their tiny chests.:: <Orcs> ::one of the first orcs to enter the room, who is holding Loria, grasps the hair at the back of her head and pulls her head back so she is forced to look at him.:: Resist and we kill the children. Submit and be chained and we will return them to you. * Loria shudders all over, whimpering. <Loria> Don't... don't hurt them... * Meghan struggles against the orc holding her, eyeing the one holding Abby. Abby is crying and reaching for Meg. * Tarri yanks futilely against her captors' grips. "No!" <Orcs> ::more orcs enter, carrying heavy manacles:: * Orlann lays on the floor, unmoving. Thick blood drips from the wound in his scalp, pooling under him. <Orcs> ::the orcs go from person to person, shackling people at the wrists, a connecting chain linking everyone to someone in front and behind them:: <Loria> ::Shavyl begins to wail in a loud, hopeless voice:: <Tarri> No... Blessed Mother, please... ::tears roll down her cheeks:: * Meghan watches Abby, trying to hush her. <Loria> ::shivering, Loria kneels in her chains to pick up her daughter:: Tarri... help me? I can't... ::she sobs, shaking:: I can't carry them both, not like this. <Orcs> ::once chained, the orcs pull thick black hoods over their prisoner's heads, cinching them under the jaw. Once everyone is bound and hooded, Abby is allowed to run to Meghan, whom she clings to, sobbing in a high pitched cry:: * Meghan holds Abby tightly, whispering reassuring words to her. <Orcs> ::Ree is pulled from the kitchen by three more orcs. She struggles to get free, and earns a cuff behind her ear for her efforts that turns her knees to jelly:: <Orcs> ::an orc pics up one of the twins and carelessly pushes it into Loria's arms. Another does the same with the other, handing it to Tarri:: <Tarri> ::cradles the tiny girl protectively close:: Wh-what are you going to do with us? * Loria cradles Shavyl in her arms, her black hood soaked through with tears. <Orcs> ::the leader orc leans down and puts his face by Tarri's:: You're going to keep your city safe. Now walk! * Loria is jerked roughly around and stumbles, nearly falling except that Ree helps her to stand. <Orcs> ::the prisoners are jerkingly tugged out of the music room, down the porch, and along the road, leading towards the Naval Drydock, which has gouts of flame leaping into the sky from it:: * Tarri tries to step back from the orc's foul breath, and nearly trips over her chains. She recovers her balance with a cry, and shuffles along in her coffle. <Orcs> ::the column can hear other sobbing people falling in line next to them... behind them... and in front of them.:: * Meghan walks at the back of the line of women, clinging tightly to Abby and trying hard to keep her fear from settling deep in her mind. * Tarri subsumes her own fears in a desperate attempt to care for Aylin without being able to see her. * Loria prays quietly under her breath for a while, then gasps in sudden pain and nearly stumbles to her knees. "Oh, no... no. no no no..." <Meghan> Loria? <Tarri> ::stumbling to a sudden halt as she nearly trips over Loria:: What is it? What's wrong? <Orcs> ::after ten or fifteen minutes of walking, the group is can hear echoes of many shuffling feet coming from tall walls in front of them, and soon they pass through a gap, and into a large, enclosed space, the echoes becoming muffled as more and more people are led in:: <Loria> ::in a distant, almost dead voice:: It's burning... the village is burning... <Tarri> Blessed Mother... Papa? Oh, gods... <Loria> ::softly:: She's gone to help them... but She can't help us. <Tarri> ::shivers as she tries to help Loria stand again:: Not again, sweet gods... ::she sobs softly inside her hood:: I can't... Not again... * Loria staggers to her feet as they are dragged within. * Meghan moves forward and reaches to place a hand an Tarri's shoulder and squeezes. <Orcs> ::time stretches out interminably. No one wants to raise their voice over a hushed whisper, and the whole courtyard echoes with the susurrating sound. The breeze brings with it trickles of smoke that almost make the hoods a welcome protection. After a long while, a bellow goes out:: Remove the hoods! <Orcs> ::a few have their hoods roughly unknotted and pulled off by the orcs and are then directed to help remove the hoods of the other prisoners:: * Loria gasps in air as her hood is roughly jerked off. <Orcs> ::the ships at the drydock have been set aflame, and are in the process of burning to the waterline:: <Loria> Dear merciful heavens... ::she stares around in shock:: What *happened*? How can... how can this have *happened*? * Meghan blinks hard as her hood is removed. SHe looks over Abby critically before looking to the others. * Tarri squeaks in pain as some hair is pulled out along with her hood. She looks around fearfully. "Wh-what..." * Woundwort steps onto the low platform. He is tall, nearly six and a half feet, and broad shouldered without the stooped back so common to orcs and ogres. His skin is eggplant purple with gleaming orange eyes that survey the crowd. Woundwort's features are less lumpy than most of his kind, with a long hook-like nose and a strong chin. A pair of gleaming white tusks protrude from his jaw. * Woundwort is wearing a set of obsidian black plate mail etched with silver. He carries a huge two-handed sword strapped across his back. His helm, decorated with several gleaming feathers of red, orange, and blue, is carved like a death's head and tucked under his arm. <Woundwort> ::following him is a much smaller orc, clad in soiled and torn brown robes and carrying a gnarled staff set with a large chunk of green stone. The robed orc chants, circling the General and gesturing with his staff. When he completes the circle hundreds of images of the General spring up all over Marsember. Some are tiny, only six inches. Others tower above the buildings. There is nowhere in the city where at least one of the images cannot be seen.:: <Woundwort> People of Marsember! ::the General's voice is neither low nor loud, but magically amplified to ring throughout the entire city:: In the name of the Nalavarauthatoryl the Red, known as the Devil Dragon and the Army of the Stormhorns, I claim this city. From this moment, Marsember is under martial law. * Woundwort pauses a long moment, then unsheathes his sword. The edges are cruelly serrated and a dark mist appears to swirl and writhe around the blade. <Woundwort> In accordance with martial law, new laws are now in affect. Broadsheets with the new regulations will be posted throughout the city. They are as follows. <Woundwort> First: Curfew. All citizens will obey the curfew. No one may be out of doors in the city after dusk and before dawn without a permit. Violators will be severely punished. <Woundwort> Second: Food. To provision the army, all foodstores in the city will be controlled by the army. Coupons will be distributed based on household need. Loss of a coupon will result in loss of food privileges. <Woundwort> Third: Quartering. To make room for the army, citizens with large dwellings will be relocated. <Woundwort> Fourth: Districts. To prevent unnecessary travel, citizens will be restricted to the district where they reside. Passes will be issued for any needful Anyone without a permit caught in another district will be punished. <Woundwort> Fifth: Production. To enhance productivity all citizens with non-essential employment will be reassigned as deemed necessary. <Woundwort> Sixth: Gathering. No gathering of more than 10 citizens will be allowed for any reason. Violaters will be punished. <Woundwort> Finally: Hostages. To ensure good behavior, we have already taken over four hundred women, children, and elderly hostage. For each Stormhorns soldier who is killed, one hostage will die. For each officer of the Stormhorns who is killed, five hostages will be executed. Each tax collector who is killed will result in the deaths of ten hostages. These executions will take place publically. <Woundwort> When known, the names of the murderers will be announced before each execution. * Woundwort pauses and looks around the sullen crowd. "That is all. Return to your homes, citizens, and await further instructions." * Woundwort steps off the stage, the robed orc trailing behind him. * Meghan begins to visibly tremble, holding tighter to Abby. <Tarri> ::whispers:: Oh, sweet gods... <Orcs> ::the massive doors to the drydock swing closed, and orcs carrying curved short bows begin to patrol the walls above, watching down into the courtyard:: <Loria> ::nearly swooning:: my goddess... * Meghan sits before her legs have a chance to give out from under her. She holds Abby closer and tries to calm the still crying little girl. <Tarri> ::drops to her knees, cradling Aylin and sobbing into the girl's dress:: * Loria kneels next to Tarri, shivering. <Tarri> What do we do? <Loria> ::in a quiet, dreadful voice:: We wait, Tarri.... we wait... * Meghan nods and moves closer to the two. <Tarri> ::shivers violently:: I was afraid of that. |
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