VII TAKING OF THE GUARD
15 CYLUS 718 | VENORA (BELLESOIR)
Three little sausags sizzling in a pan, one went pop, and the others went BANG!
The break was early, or late, depending on when one awoke during a trial. The darkness, ever consuming and ever perpetual in Cylus blanketed the baronies of Rynmere like some ominous being, ready to steal the unwary to their demise. It was bitterly cold, wet and snowy, an unwelcome condition for anyone to be working in.
And yet, there were those working, frozen to their cores as they patrolled the city streets and byways, dressed in their armourment over thick winter woollens. The Guards, military men and women of each barony in Rynmere, sworn to their Kingdom and their Barony to protect the civilians that dwelt within. Common and noble alike. Sworn to protect with their lives.
“Make then suffer.” Valkyr growled, her eyes a wild untamed blue as she kicked the guardsman off the end of her lance. Her team had spread out, like a pack of wolves on the hunt, seeking out guards and ending them in bloody violence. The blonde woman grinned, spatterings of gore splashed across her cheek as she aimed her lance under another armed guards helmet, slicing skin and sinew with a sickening crunch.
Across the township, her wolves worked, mowing down the knights like knives through butter. Some they killed, others they merely maimed, but methodically they went along, taking no prisoners until they reached the center square.
“Valkyr. What are you doing?” A commanding voice oozed from the shadows, dark eyes glaring at the wild woman. The Butcher of Warrick laughed, raising her hands in a shrug.
“Sending a message, like promised.” Vardell frowned.
“Where are your hostages? Vishal was clear we must kill some, injure some, take some back with us.” The woman lifted her lance, pointing behind her in the direction that led away from the township to the manor on the hill with an unhinged grin.
“There. All ready for the taking.” The dark haired girl shook her head firmly and narrowed her eyes.
”No. You’ve already done enough damage there. You’re lucky mother even gave you leave to come. Take them here.” She waved at the team, catching their eyes and indicating she wanted them to take prisoners. Valkyr scowled deeply, blue eyes now black.
“But they’re—“ Vardell snapped back, her anger flaring.
“Take. Them. Here. Is that clear, soldier?” The blonde glared back, before suddenly laughing and pointing at the woman with the tip of her lance.
“Clear, Ser.” With a grin, she too dispersed into the perpetual night to capture prisoners for the taking.
“Your turn.” Ser Haywood said, grinning at his companions as they sat in plain clothes at the barrack courtyard, playing a hand of cards. He waggled his eyebrows at the other two players in amusement. Ser Davris pouted at his hand, notoriously bad at the game.
“I know it’s my turn, just...thinking.” The other man burst out laughing, one slapping him on the back much to the knights frustration. They continued, laughing and playing as they enjoyed a brief break before the changing of the guards.
It was Ser La’Rahn that saw it first, one of their colleagues running in full armour towards them, almost comical in a way. Clattering and puffing and...shrieking?
“What the bloody...” He began to mutter, before the man’s words met all their ears.
“Attack! Attack on the gu—“ He tripped, skidding and bouncing along the ground, rolling to a stop just beyond their card game. Ser Haywood jumped to his feet, running to their brother in arms before swearing and turning to the other men.
“Archers! Quick! To arms!” Ser La’Rahn let out a pained cry, too late to move as another arrow flew from the darkness to lodge in his exposed throat. From the rooftops of the barracks, two bandits dropped, daggers drawn with cruel grins. Ser Davris moved to defend himself, gasping in pain as a blade slipped into his torso, dropping to the ground a stammering bleeding mess.
“Damn you!” Ser Haywood cried, reaching for a sword and swinging with rage. They parried, toying with the man. From behind him, a man’s almost feminine voice called out, causing the man to spin in surprise.
“Take him.” It was the last thing he heard, before the world went dark.
Like ghosts in the night, the VII packs orchestrated their attacks; taking, killing or rendering unconscious at random guards from the streets or at their posts. Even the Baronies weren’t spared from their touch, men and women alike taken or attacked.
As the breaks progressed, so did the VII, disappearing into the Cylus night without a trace. At the changing of the guard there was pandemonium as colleagues would find their brothers or sisters nursing their wounds, followed by the shriek of a commoner stumbling across a body bleeding out it’s last grasp of life. Screams and bells of alarm began to ring through the city.
Too little too late.
For those left alive, or scrawled in the blood of the dead, there had been a message left as clear as day.
We are the power in Rynmere. Never forget.
The break was early, or late, depending on when one awoke during a trial. The darkness, ever consuming and ever perpetual in Cylus blanketed the baronies of Rynmere like some ominous being, ready to steal the unwary to their demise. It was bitterly cold, wet and snowy, an unwelcome condition for anyone to be working in.
And yet, there were those working, frozen to their cores as they patrolled the city streets and byways, dressed in their armourment over thick winter woollens. The Guards, military men and women of each barony in Rynmere, sworn to their Kingdom and their Barony to protect the civilians that dwelt within. Common and noble alike. Sworn to protect with their lives.
“Make then suffer.” Valkyr growled, her eyes a wild untamed blue as she kicked the guardsman off the end of her lance. Her team had spread out, like a pack of wolves on the hunt, seeking out guards and ending them in bloody violence. The blonde woman grinned, spatterings of gore splashed across her cheek as she aimed her lance under another armed guards helmet, slicing skin and sinew with a sickening crunch.
Across the township, her wolves worked, mowing down the knights like knives through butter. Some they killed, others they merely maimed, but methodically they went along, taking no prisoners until they reached the center square.
“Valkyr. What are you doing?” A commanding voice oozed from the shadows, dark eyes glaring at the wild woman. The Butcher of Warrick laughed, raising her hands in a shrug.
“Sending a message, like promised.” Vardell frowned.
“Where are your hostages? Vishal was clear we must kill some, injure some, take some back with us.” The woman lifted her lance, pointing behind her in the direction that led away from the township to the manor on the hill with an unhinged grin.
“There. All ready for the taking.” The dark haired girl shook her head firmly and narrowed her eyes.
”No. You’ve already done enough damage there. You’re lucky mother even gave you leave to come. Take them here.” She waved at the team, catching their eyes and indicating she wanted them to take prisoners. Valkyr scowled deeply, blue eyes now black.
“But they’re—“ Vardell snapped back, her anger flaring.
“Take. Them. Here. Is that clear, soldier?” The blonde glared back, before suddenly laughing and pointing at the woman with the tip of her lance.
“Clear, Ser.” With a grin, she too dispersed into the perpetual night to capture prisoners for the taking.
“Your turn.” Ser Haywood said, grinning at his companions as they sat in plain clothes at the barrack courtyard, playing a hand of cards. He waggled his eyebrows at the other two players in amusement. Ser Davris pouted at his hand, notoriously bad at the game.
“I know it’s my turn, just...thinking.” The other man burst out laughing, one slapping him on the back much to the knights frustration. They continued, laughing and playing as they enjoyed a brief break before the changing of the guards.
It was Ser La’Rahn that saw it first, one of their colleagues running in full armour towards them, almost comical in a way. Clattering and puffing and...shrieking?
“What the bloody...” He began to mutter, before the man’s words met all their ears.
“Attack! Attack on the gu—“ He tripped, skidding and bouncing along the ground, rolling to a stop just beyond their card game. Ser Haywood jumped to his feet, running to their brother in arms before swearing and turning to the other men.
“Archers! Quick! To arms!” Ser La’Rahn let out a pained cry, too late to move as another arrow flew from the darkness to lodge in his exposed throat. From the rooftops of the barracks, two bandits dropped, daggers drawn with cruel grins. Ser Davris moved to defend himself, gasping in pain as a blade slipped into his torso, dropping to the ground a stammering bleeding mess.
“Damn you!” Ser Haywood cried, reaching for a sword and swinging with rage. They parried, toying with the man. From behind him, a man’s almost feminine voice called out, causing the man to spin in surprise.
“Take him.” It was the last thing he heard, before the world went dark.
Like ghosts in the night, the VII packs orchestrated their attacks; taking, killing or rendering unconscious at random guards from the streets or at their posts. Even the Baronies weren’t spared from their touch, men and women alike taken or attacked.
As the breaks progressed, so did the VII, disappearing into the Cylus night without a trace. At the changing of the guard there was pandemonium as colleagues would find their brothers or sisters nursing their wounds, followed by the shriek of a commoner stumbling across a body bleeding out it’s last grasp of life. Screams and bells of alarm began to ring through the city.
Too little too late.
For those left alive, or scrawled in the blood of the dead, there had been a message left as clear as day.
We are the power in Rynmere. Never forget.
Mod Note
Hi All, welcome to your next modded event.
Please note, this is happening concurrently across the whole Kingdom of Rynmere, and you have been placed in a group that best allows you to react. There are open options here for you to pursue:
Rules:
Please note, this is happening concurrently across the whole Kingdom of Rynmere, and you have been placed in a group that best allows you to react. There are open options here for you to pursue:
- Find a dead/downed guardsman and take action (help or don’t)
- Run into a VII member (this is high risk)
- Investigate/interrogate a survivor
Rules:
- You must post either 3 posts or 1500 words to be eligible for rewards
- We will post once a week and you can only post once per round
