• Hail Guest!
    We're looking for Community Content Contribuitors to Stratics. If you would like to write articles, fan fiction, do guild or shard event recaps, it's simple. Find out how in this thread: Community Contributions
  • Greetings Guest, Having Login Issues? Check this thread!
  • Hail Guest!,
    Please take a moment to read this post reminding you all of the importance of Account Security.
  • Hail Guest!
    Please read the new announcement concerning the upcoming addition to Stratics. You can find the announcement Here!

Return to Papua

McIan

Journeyman
As they walked along the wide dirt roads of Papua, many of its citizens whom they knew from time past, greeted Scar and Deminatza with a smiling wave or cheerful words of welcome. Scar watched her face looking for signs of pained empathy and saw it flash occasionally, but for the most part she maintained the positive outlook of the ever-helpful, ever-hopeful, consoling spirit. He was happy about that.

They could see defensive works in the making: forest clearing in a semi-circle around the town on three sides, as on one side, the east, was a waterfront; wooden block houses, and pit traps. The archon, his guards, and a few lesser officials, met them upstairs at the pier 39 building which long ago served as his office when he was archon himself.

“It is good to see you again, Lord Scar and Lady Deminatza!” the rotund man exclaimed when he saw them. “You are always welcome in our fair town! Surely you have come to aid us in our hour of need?” He shook their hands heartily and repeatedly.

“We have, Magistrate, though not soon enough,” Scar replied. “I must apologize as my attentions had been drawn to Delucia where the problem began. I wish I had had the foresight to have come here to warn you all. I feel I have failed you.”

Goodsen, the archon, shook his head and released his grip on his hand. “You did not fail us. We knew of the situation in Delucia already, and when the caravan guard was killed, it drew us in. We just did not know how much danger we were in.” He led them to a large table where they all sat down. Before he did, he took out a large rolled up map, unrolled it, and spread it on the table before them all. “This shows our current activities. The circles in black are completed works. The ones in orange are in progress, and the red ones are in the planning stage. As you can see, we have almost half of them done.”

Scar and Demi scanned the map. Scar pointed to an area north of the town. “This is the weakest link,” he commented. “Why is that?”

“Oh, that, well, the attacks came from the south so we wanted to be sure defenses were in placed there first. We will get to those later on,” Goodsen replied, his officers nodding approval.

Scar stroked his goatee slowly. “Normally I would agree with your decision, but these creatures are not mere timber wolves. They have an unnatural, evil, cunning. They do not randomly kill for food but seem to enjoy the thrill of the hunt. They will be probing the defenses and will find this weakness, I guarantee it. I suggest establishing more guard patrols there until adequate static defenses are erected.”

Goodsen nodded. “Agreed. I will see to it immediately! What else do you suggest?”

Scar knew this was going to be a long day. “Give me a moment, and an ale, and I will tell you,” he stated. Then he turned his attention to Deminatza. “What questions do you have for the archon, milady? Or suggestions? I am sure they need your guidance and wisdom to prepare healing and injury stations, supplies, and trained personnel.”
 

Deminatza

Visitor
“What questions do you have for the archon, milady? Or suggestions? I am sure they need your guidance and wisdom to prepare healing and injury stations, supplies, and trained personnel.”

Deminatza spoke without hesitation. “I would like to visit the families who hath lost their loved ones in these attacks,” she requested, then proceeded to petition precisely what Scar had aforementioned.

The lady in blue waited patiently until the archon was available to address her inquiries.
 

McIan

Journeyman
The archon was pleased. "You are too kind, milady, but then, your kindness has always been remembered here. I will take you to see them myself. There are several grieving families. I think first we will go and visit your friend, Korbin, who is at the Inn preparing food for everyone. I am sure he would be very glad to see you," he added.

When Korbin saw her his face lit up with a huge smile. He dropped the cooking utensils he was holding and wiped his hands on his apron, then ran to embrace her with a friendly hug. "Glad to see you my lady Demi!" he greeted, his deep bass voice reverberating throughout the establishment. "You have come in time! I have a big loaf of sweet bread to share with you, some stewed turnips with roasted duck. You will like it," he added. He led her to a table where she sat down compliantly.

They held a pleasant conversation while she ate reasonable portions of it all except the duck, which she declined. He told her all about the events which held the entire town captive in the grip of fear and terror. She listened, nodding when appropriate, and took all of it to heart, realizing just how great the terror was under which they lived.

Afterwards, she bade him goodbye and went with the archon to visit those who were grieving. She sought to comfort them with consoling words and assurances. They were relieved to know others, like her, shared in their loss by truly listening and caring. By late afternoon she was back with Scar at pier 39 ready to make suggestions for healing stations and a list of possible citizens, including the professional healers of the town, who could work shifts to ensure someone was ready at all times.
 

McIan

Journeyman
All the time, energy, and resources used in the defense of Papua paid off. In the early morning hours, a loud howl of pain reverberated throughout the town. The militia were first out to the location of the sound – a deep but narrow pit on the outskirts to the north, filled with spikes. At the bottom of the pit was a single, gigantic, wolf, impaled in multiple places with the spikes which nearly immobilized it. It glared up at the people lined along the rim, snarling and snapping at them with slavering jaws.

In near unison, the militia comprised of men and women, hurled their projectiles at and into the beast: spears, arrows, and large rocks. It gave one great yelp and fell over, dead.

“One down, one to go,” said the militia captain.

The warriors cheered and then threw firebrands into the pit intending to burn the body of the beast thus ensuring its demise.

When Korbin Durr, Scar and Demi’s Papuan friend heard the news, he immediately sent a brief word of cheer to them.

Hidden within the foliage lining the town, the other wolf watched the scene unfold. It held back even though the instinctive urge to defend its mate almost overpowered it. There were too many enemies. His mate had been too restless and went hunting while he slept, thereby falling into the trap. Now the business took a nasty turn, if a beast could actually be motivated by vendetta, that became its consuming purpose. Some of these people would die and die soon.
 
Top