((Unless he wants to sign up for the "crusade", I'm guessing whatever Blitz will be doing is separate from what I'm going on about. So I'll just truck ahead here. Let me know if I'm writing too much. I kinda got the interactive story vibe from this more than a rigid RP vibe, so you get lots of words.))
Haralus was pleased. The turnout to his call to arms had been impressive, much more so than he had expected. It seems my father's diplomatic efforts have not gone to waste. he mused as he paced the walls of the Citadel of the Rock, looking down at the many camps which had sprung up around them in the past weeks.
A shout reached his ears from below, coming from one of the numerous makeshift mustering grounds that had come with the camps. One of his men was chastising a group of non-state volunteers for not heeding his commands. That lot might not be too beneficial in the coming fight. Surprisingly, his general call to the people of the allied kingdoms had been met by a good number of people, many of which who had poor equipment and little or no training. While the King would scarcely empty the Royal Coffers, or, ancestors-forbid, his personal armoury in order to equip them, he had taken measures to appoint a veteran from his forces to lead the individual formations and take responsibility for instilling some degree of military discipline in them. While the harsh training regime had caused a few deserters, most had stayed, undoubtedly swayed by the same lust that burned in him - a lust for glory. Or perhaps a lust for the riches we may find below. The king smiled to himself, and watched as another one of his officers sparred with three of the volunteers at once, throwing each to the ground, only to have them rise immediately and charge him again. What they lack in skill, they certainly seem to make up for in determination.
He continued down the wall, stopping to take note of the Elven camps. In comparison to the mixed assembly, it's tents and fires thrown up relatively haphazardly, the Elves displayed nearly stereotypically rigid protocol in their arrangements. Tents were erected in neat rows, fires were orderly and controlled, and the exercises they engaged consisted mostly of strict manuevers. If not for the city blocking the way in front of them, and the Citadel to their back, I'm sure they would have gone so far as to erect a palisade. In one field, they were engaged in a mock combat with some training dummies arrayed in a battle line. The elven spear wall would thrust forward, and the bows behind them would unleash a deadly stream of arrows into targets just over their heads. Funny to think that we were enemies not long ago, and that my predecessors mostly made their names for breaking those walls. It will be interesting to see how their tactics apply when we're in the tight catacombs.
Finally, he arrived at his destination - the towering gatehouse that reached all the way to the roof of the massive cavern that housed the capital. In front of it were the men of Harrowfeld, their tents arranged in loose circles, their famous warhorses corralled in the centers. There was little training going on in their camps, but the sounds of raucous laughter and merriment filtered up from the tents and campfires below. The humans are too confident in their abilities the King noted, I think that they're in for a surprise when they realize those ponies of theirs won't fit where we're going. He sighed quietly. At least they haven't stolen anything yet.
Noticably absent from the grounds around the Citadel was an Imperial camp. They'd taken up residence in several of the inns around town, mostly keeping to themselves. Perhaps for the best, that. The King had been somewhat perturbed by their decision to participate. Not only was it out of character for them to involve themselves so directly in the affairs of other realms, the number of troops they had decided to commit was discomforting to say the least. A thousand men, with more on the way. With those numbers, armed with those sorcerous weapons of those, it could almost be an invasion force rather than an allied one. King Haralus tried to push those thoughts away. Lyrkan had expressed a similar concern to him on the day of the contingent's arrival, and the King could not help but hear the potential truth in his words. The messenger from the Imperial commander, and the message he had brought, had done little to placate those concerns. That's a meeting I've likely put off long enough. The King turned from the sights below, and left to prepare himself for his meeting with Borrin Longuard.
Moving through the streets of the city had always been a joy for the King, despite the fact that he could not do so without a score of bodyguards since his coming of age. The sights, the sounds, and the smells - all the trappings of a civilization at the ground level, and something he was very fond of. In his youth, Haralus had often spent his days exploring the city, finding new wonders, and partaking in what he had seen as the small adventures of the lives of the commoners. Even now, simply walking around through the avenues and alleyways, he couldn't help but marvel at the openess of space around him, and the vast distance to the roof of the massive cave that housed a good portion of the Kingdom's capital. I wonder if anyone here ever takes the time to look up. The Citadel, while luxurious as is fitting the homes of nobility, was an almost completely closed structure, and there were few places within it's walls that one could admire the luminous glow of the fungus that lit the cavern's roof, let alone bask in the warm light that filtered in through the cave's entrance.
"BACK OFF, PEASANT!" One of his guards shouted from behind him, pushing away a passerby who had strayed too close to the invisible wall that separated the King from his people. The entourage was, to the King, an unfortunate reality that came with the other benefits of his station, and walks such as this made him sorely miss the days of his youth, when he could travel more or less unimpeded through his own lands.
Soon, too soon, his party found themselves outside of the inn where Borrin had roomed himself - it was a large structure, well built of sturdy Dwarven stonework, and reaching high above the surrounding buildings. Borrin has good taste, Haralus mused, of all the fine inns in this city, this one could easily pass most well as a fortification. He approached the Imperial trooper guarding the door, and addressed him directly.
"Greetings, friend of the Highlands. How do you find yourself on this evening?"
The soldier looked mildly surprised at having such a ranking figure address him, and took a moment before bowing slightly and responding. "Well, your Highness. I shall inform my commander of your arrival at once." He looked around at the guards accompanying the King. "As is our custom when making camp, he has requested that your men remain outside."
"Insolence!" barked the leader of the King's troop. He turned to Haralus. "My lord, surely we can not stand for this. Who is this man to ask for our liege to submit to his customs and bar us from entering property on his lands?!"
The King held up a hand, and smiled knowingly at his servant. "It is alright, Sergeant at Arms. Surely whoever he is, he's not foolish enough to try to harm your liege in the center of his own realm. You shall remain here, and insure the security of the street for my return." He turned back to the Imperial soldier. "I will not, however, surrender my personal arms, as is our custom when entering another's camp. Now, inform your commander that I am present for our meeting." Let's see what this is all about.
((Not much for actions here:
- Haralus has gone to meet Borrin, and see what's up.))