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Part One Part Two Part Three It was a getting to the hottest part of the day, past noon but still ways until the sun set and offered relief to weary men. LT. Sully Tanner had made great time to the far off fort by following the Native woman and her escort and cutting through paths he hadn't even known existed. Eventually the Native woman lead him to a point in the path where he knew to be near Prospectors Bluff. LT. Tanner quickly Took over and decided to pull double time to get to the fort dreading what he was going to meet. prosbluff by Paul Vogel, on Flickr Meanwhile at the fort the 27th had affectionately named "Fort Nichols" K.G. was clearing brush from the ever growing vegetation that seemed to never stop growing on what he called "This gods forsaken island", K.G. rarely called anything by a proper name most of his men followed his orders only when there were "Cleanies" as they called the more respectable troops of Corrington, and even then after they were alone they would relentlessly mock him if he abused the power. Overall K.G. couldn't complain he'd served nine of the ten required years in the Penal Regiment, The 27th known as the "Rough Necks" for their crude manner their constant state of uniform undress and lack of respect for superiors to the point of insubordination, They were hated by the whole army and the nobles back home that committed them to this fate in the Juniper Wars. As he Cleared more brush due to losing a bet the night before his mind drifted to how he came to his current condition. He was once a successful arms smuggler, his weapons were in the hands of eight out of every ten pirates and the Juniper war just helped business, the first four and a half years were golden he made money hand over fist enough to swim in some might say. But it all went awry when one of his contacts turned on him a pirate who traded him for a pardon from the crown and a note of mark to allow him to work in service as a privateer. "The dirty bastard...", K.G. thought. He found himself in a prison owned by some wealthy noble he later learned to be Steward Pennington, cousin to the Exchequer, and all around stuff shirt. He had a stint of 30 years ahead of him in a pit of squalor. Not six months later though the last of "The Queens Own" the 27th Regiment was wiped out. They were one of the most decorated regiments in Corrington history, beloved by all, they struck fear into the hearts of their enemy. That was until they got themselves killed in a fools mission guarding one of the major ports of corrington from an O'lean invasion, sure they saved the city but they all died. "Fools", K.G. thought. That was just the beginning of the story though. That stuffed shirt Pennington back in Belson had the brilliant idea to recreate the 27th as a Penal Regiment, it past with 3/4ths consent in the house and thus the Rough Necks were born. The hatred was immediate but the need even more so with Corrington losing the war, many men even blamed the Rough Neck as their sins were "Infecting the army" that was seven years ago and this was now, K.G. was almost a free man. K.G.'s thoughts were disrupted when he heard a snap of a twig from the uncleared forest, he turned his head and there was a native and a sleeveless Cleanie approaching. As LT. Tanner approached he saw two disheveled men pull out their flintlockes and point them at him, but he was quick to draw both his in time to lock them in a stalemate. DSC_2932 by Paul Vogel, on Flickr "Looks like we've got ourselves, an ol' Eslandolian standoff here" Said the man that Sully took to be in charge. "I'm here on business from the governor, he's sent me to gather Lieutenant Nichols and the rest of his platoon.", Tanner said coursely." "Yer talkin to em' what'd ya need Cleanie.", K.G. Spat "Surely this can't be all that's left, you forts in shambles. You're all out of uniform, he doesn't even have a shirt! And worse yet where are you're colors!", Tanner rattled off. DSC_2933 by Paul Vogel, on Flickr "Don't care. Don't care. And I'm using it as a blanket.", K.G. replied equally as fast. Tanner looked on in shock at the band of disheveled criminals that called themselves the 27th. "Well the governor has a mission and you're going to help, it's his orders, we have word that O'leanders are conspiring with Ténotclaxcans in dark rituals.", Tanner said with a note of worry in his voice. "Hear that boys the Tino's er playin' with the blues. And it's the Governors 'Orders'.", K.G. yelled back to the fort and a raucous laughter erupted from all the men. DSC_2940 by Paul Vogel, on Flickr "Are you denying a direct command from the official on this island?", Tanner said pulling the only card he knew would get them to fall in line. "Alright, guess we have to if the governor is going to have a fit and load his pants over it." K.G. Mocked. And more laughter erupted from the Fort DSC_2938 by Paul Vogel, on Flickr This is a continuation of Ska's story for Challenge II, Help Me, Erie Flynn, You're My Only Hope.
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PART THREE: Return of the Torturer and K.G. Strikes Back Part One Part Two What a strange man K.G. Nichols really was, he had a thick draw, but Sully Tanner was unsure of where the accent was from. Nichols had proven himself valuable in the Juniper War years ago, but he was still serving out his sentence in the 27th Regiment, a penal regiment, called by some “The Roughnecks” by others, “The Murderers.” Sully knew a little about Nichols service, he was captured during the Juniper War, and instead of paroled like other officers, he was kept in an Oleon prison. At least he had some combat experience, for that Sully was thankful for. Nichol’s men were a bunch of misfits, most were not wearing proper uniform, and those who did word tattered, dirty, or mismatched uniforms. There was a reason Governor Flynn did not want them at Port Raleigh. They were too rough around the edges for his vision of civilization. Their guide, Qui’to, as Sully had found out when he set out with the man, had led them into the Jungle from Prospector’s bluff towards the Temple of the Snake. Tanner had actually been to the temple once before, that was where the Ténotclaxcans had made their last treaty with Port Raleigh. It was a “squat-looking” step pyramid, nothing like those of Ancient Halos, but still an impressive work of architecture in the middle of what seemed to be a deserted jungle. Of course Sully had been here long enough to know that was definitely NOT the case. When they go within spyglass distance, Sully brought his to his eye. His heart sank. There was a high priest, his fellow priest-warriors at the top of the pyramid, and they were holding up a baby above the alter. The alter sat in a pool of blood and former sacrifices’ body parts. On the golden alter lay a Corrington flag, already with some blood on it. DSC_2951 by skaforhire, on Flickr They could hear the priest shouting. Qui’to in rough Corrish translated. “They do ritual to give favor to your enemies. They wish you to fall from the earth. This ready war for them.” sac by skaforhire, on Flickr If that had not been bad enough, Sully moved his glass down to see who was on the top steps of the pyramid, about 20 feet in the air, watching the show. A Garvian officer and a few Meleckas, another tributary tribe to the Ténotclaxcans, stood on one said, a few other Halosians among them. Only a quarter of the pyramid was in use at this time, and the other top steps were occupied by a Eslandolian merchant and some of Qui’to’s tribe. Finally, in the middle was the big problem. Sully swallowed hard. “There is a platoon of Oleon troops up there, and a captain with them.” He said to Nichols. He gave Nichols the spyglass and immediately the underdressed officer swore. “That is Raphine Aramore – he is the bastard that tortured me during the war. I thought I gutted him good last time I saw him.” Sully was shocked, he had heard of Count Aramore, he was an elite commander during the war, and a known inquisitor for the Brotherhood. K.G. had been his prisoner? “Well, we don’t have much time if we are going to save the baby.” Sully said trying to formulate a plan. “Your man is already on the attack” Nichols pointed to Qui’to who was running full speed at the temple. “Damn it…” Sully now swore, not very gentlemanly he thought. “we are not supposed to…” he left off as all of the 27th started making their way towards the backside of the temple in an eerily quiet manner. Sully followed. -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* As they stormed up the rear steps, K.G. had one thing on his mind – Count Aramore must die. He had spent too many years in an Oleon prison for a crime he did not commit, Aramore torturing him every day knowing that Nichols had no answers for him, for it was the count himself that was guilty of the crime. But right now there was no time to think about the act of betrayal that got him put in that cell. breakingupthesac by skaforhire, on Flickr The Roughnecks charged straight into the ritual, and halted the sacrifice. Still, the priest held the baby tight and his men began to fight. Many of the Andequotans began to flee, they didn’t want to die for their master’s sick games. Nichols saw that pretentious lieutenant Tanner knock down the alter and charge the priests. He was brave, K.G. would give him that. breakingupthe by skaforhire, on Flickr Nichols found Aramore two steps down. “YOU!” he shouted! duelb by skaforhire, on Flickr Aramore recognized his voice and his aged face instantly. “Oh, Nichols, so you are still alive? You look well, devilishly hansom in fact! “ Nichols looked into an all-to-familiar face, and winced as he thrust a sword at it. Aramore ducked and countered. The rest of the battle went still around them. “You know I am the better swordsman!” Aramore said. “Give up now!” “I believe I left you with quite a gaping present the last time we saw one another! “ Nichols said. “You stabbed me in the back!” Aramore cried, “I had no defense!” “Neither did she!” K.G. grunted. “Neither did she!!!” A swing went wide and cut open another Oleon soldier. As fast as it had begun, the battle was wrapping up… and Aramore knew this. The Count pulled a powder from his pouch and threw it into K.G.’s eyes. Nichols swung thw sword violently, temporarily blinded, but no deathblow came. In minutes he could see, and saw that the Corlanders were victorious. The Roundup by skaforhire, on Flickr The native had got his babe back, a Garvian foot soldier had been captured, and a Eslandolian merchant had surrendered. No doubt some MAESTRO scum. Nichols was furious, but there was no sign of Aramore. The only good news was that the single casualty among his men would recover quickly from a bump on the head. Oleanders couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn with a cannon anymore. -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Sully thrust the flag in the Ténotclaxcan’s face and screamed. “What were you doing here? Where is your king?” Qui’to, now holding his baby translated. “He say he came to watch, no king.” Qui’to said. Clearly Sully was not going to get anything out of this man, and he had no one who spoke Garvian or Eslandolan well enough to interrogate the other two men. Tanner knew there was a Olean prisoner, but in the chaos, somebody had slit his throat – Sully suspected Nichols, but did not see him do it. “Round them up, lets get them back to the fort before Aramore regroups. He noticed Nichols scowl harden further at the mention of the Count’s name. Lord Flynn was going to have his hands full here, and if there were more Oleanders on Annetta, war may not be too far behind.
