A New Livery(
Several weeks before the events of turn one1. MaterialLady Adalina could not make up her mind - stripes or checks? Which would do? The colours she knew she liked, and both cloths sported the same combination, but the choice of pattern was what perplexed her.
“Well, I do like them both.”
The rotund merchant Master Biaggio, sweat dripping from the end of his nose and a stubborn smile fixed to his face, was trying not to fidget. He felt he was close to a sale, and after all the effort he had put in was desperate not to lose it now. He had been holding both samples of
fine linen before him for nigh upon a quarter of an hour - long enough for the pain in his arms to have transformed into an absence of feeling, while a new pain coursed through his back up to his neck and threatened soon to topple him.
“They are both most excellent ch .. ch ..choices, I have to say, my lady. Both would adorn your c … castle magnificently, whether it be table cloths, hangings, curtains or b … b … bed covers, and just as importantly they are both the height of fashion in Luccinni and Remas.”
The Lady, who still gave no sign that Master Biaggio might rest, squinted once more and stroked her fingers for the umpteenth time upon both cloths. As a member of the merchant class it would be most impolite for Biaggio to make any move without her permission. Mercopio, he prayed to his god, make this woman decide.
“No,” Lady Adalina said suddenly. “It is impossible to decide …”
Biaggio could not help himself - a groan began to issue from between his lips.
“… so,” she continued, “I shall have both. Checks shall adorn one wing, while stripes shall rule in the other.”
The merchant (cunningly, he thought) now transformed his groan into a satisfied sigh. “Aaah, my lady, you have of course settled upon the wisest course of action. Of course I would need to know what quantities you require, and there is the base concern of the price …”
Lady Adalina silenced him with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Speak to my steward, he will make all arrangements with you. Now go, and leave me the samples.”
“As you wish, my lady, “ said Master Biaggio, handing over the cloths with a flourish and a bow, then turning to leave. While Adalina held the cloths aloft in the sunlight streaming through the windows so that she might bask in their pleasant patterns, the merchant was already calculating what price he could get for them, and what profit would be made once all necessaries such as transport and such like was accounted for.
2. MaterielOnce more Capitano Duilio found himself having to push his helmet back on his forehead so that he could rub his eyes. Whatever was loaded onto the wagon immediately in front of him was dusty – perhaps unthreshed grain or some such thing - and every time the wagon bounced over a pothole a cloud of particles descended upon him and his men. This time there was a big, itchy lump of the stuff in his left eye. He raised his hand to halt his men …
… and took a moment to demand a flask of water that he might pour onto his face.
The convoy he commanded was carrying all sorts of cargos, from basic commodities such as grain to military supplies such as black powder; from casks of fine wine to bales of fine cloth. He had been travelling with it all the way from the port of Ebino, and until yesterday had ridden upon his horse. When he overheard his men grumbling about the hard pace he set for their foot-slogging the previous night, however, he decided he would show them that he could do it. He had always thought of himself as a man of action, an officer who led by example.
Yet now, with granules scratching at the inside of his eyelids and his skin red raw where his armour had scraped all day, he wondered whether he really ought to have stayed on his horse.
At least he had not heard his men complaining. His standard bearer, Sergente Ezio, marched proud and tall by his side, while four of his best halberdiers marched immediately behind. More little companies of his men were interspersed along the convoy, so that in all he had
thirty soldiers with him.
They were travelling through the hilly region to the west of his lord’s domain, where the road cut through a small forest and provided a little shade. Perhaps it was this relief from the shining sun that had improved his mens’ mood? Or maybe it was the thought that by
nightfall they would be home?
3. PlunderEntirely unbeknownst to the Tilean soldiers, wagoneers and coachmen, they were being watched - beady, red eyes peered down from a hilltop obscured by the trees. These eyes belonged to creatures with green tinged flesh which improved their concealment - a band of hill goblins.
Having struck deeper inland than ever before, these particular greenskins were part of Guldaar Bestbasha’s army of raiders whose main body was still much closer to the sea from which they had come. Having landed upon a relatively uninhabited stretch of the Tilean coast littered with ancient, ruined settlements from a time even the men who dwelt in Tilea had almost forgotten, the Waagh Guldaar was hungry. So Guldar had sent this band of goblins, watched over by an orcen scout called Burntogg, to raid for supplies and, in the orcen warlord’s own words: “Bring ‘em back real quick or I’ll serve you lot up for supper instead.”
On the crest of the hill was the hill goblin’s big boss, Derkid the Sneakster, with his trusted warriors about him. Unusual amongst goblins for his tuft of black hair, Derkid had always assumed that it was his talent to be different in other ways too, and it was this belief that had led him to acquire the repeating pistol he now had in his hand. He had yet to try it out in anger (for to be honest he was entirely unsure whether he had wound it up right) but it nevertheless
proved a marvellously effective instrument for encouraging disobedient goblins to do as he wished.
“Der’s a lot of wagons, but how many mens is guardin’ ‘em?” he asked out loud, without really expecting an answer. Still, it was worth a try. “Can any of you scummin’ pus bags see?”
“Aww, Sneaks, ya just put me off me countin’!” moaned the axe-wielding Radget. “An’ I nearly ‘ad it - I was up to six.”
Derkid hefted his axe and glanced at the shiny barrels of his pistol, proud of the lack of rust, thought for a moment and then announced, “It don’t matter how many, as long as there’s more of us. Besides, they’z not knowin’ we’re here, an’ I reckon they’ll be spooked good
an’ proper when we hit ‘em. I reckon’ they’ll all be runnin’ before they can count us.”
He knew full well, what with the limited view of the column afforded by the trees that he could not trust any number Radget came up with. So his mind was made up. Just one last thing to do, he thought, and that was get the nod from Burntogg. He turned to look down the rear
side of the hill and catch the orc’s attention. Burntogg was standing beside the pirate goblin Boat-Boss Kaggly Moldwip …
… which meant he already knew about the column (because Kaggly had been up on the crest with Derkid moments before). When Derkid gestured, chopping with his axe in the direction of the Tileans, Burntogg grinned and raised his choppa. He brought it down in a manner obviously meant as a signal, even as he began to lope up the hill himself. Before he had taken two full steps, Derkid’s hill goblins were already streaming silently down the other side
towards the edge of the trees.
Down in the woods today, Capitano Duilio was certainly in for a big surprise!
4. Division“All of ya,” screamed Warlord Guldar Bestbasher, “an’ I do mean all of ya, hold yer wagglin’ tongues.”
Silence descended quickly and satisfactorily, as goblins and orcs gave their leader their undivided attention.
“I gets to decide how we’re sharin’ up da loot. I don’t care wevver it’s da fairest way, but I’ll tell ya’all it’s da safest way - ‘cos if any of yer thinks yer’s not doin’ things da way I wants ‘em, den dat’s gonna be yer lastest thought ever. Gettit?”
The silence continued. Several of the goblins nearest to Guldar wondered if there was a way to be more silent than they were already being, but couldn’t think of any.
“Now listen close an’ listen good. For a start Derkid gets a share, ‘cos him an’ his lads did the findin’.”
Derkid stepped forward, with whispers of “Go on, Sneaks!” from the goblins nearest to him. Guldar grinned at him, bearing his massive, broken, tusk-like teeth in the process. Unnerved by the visage before him, the goblin hid his fear well: “What’s I getting’ den, great lord of us all?” he asked.
“You can have a wagon and as much of the food as you can put in it. An’ choose something shiney fer yerself as well.”
Derkid nodded, then scuttled off to do exactly that, while Guldar glared at the many who remained.
“As for the rest of you, what were you arguin’ about when I got here?”
No-one dared speak at first, then finally Burntogg piped up. “Dey was discussin’ how to share up da fancies in da first wagon?”
“Fancies?” said Guldar. “What fancies?”
“Cloth, lots of it, prettified up with lines and criss-crossings.”
Guldar was surprised. He’d known his lads fighting over all sorts before, but never over pretty cloth. “Let’s see it,” he demanded, a touch of confusion in his voice.
The boys led him to the wagon in question and showed him its cargo: bales of cloth in two different designs, though both blue and grey in colour. Having tested it by trying to tear it, and finding it of good quality (he actually had to expend a little effort to rip it) Guldar made his mind up.
“Dis stuff is too good fer little uns. Dey can have any other cloths found. Dis is for da orcs. Give da stripes to Haggjie’s lads and the criss-crosses to Big Boss CrackJaw’s Big Uns.” The vicious grin reappeared. “We is gonna ‘ave uniforms, fancy ones like Tilean soldiers, so I can see who is gettin’ up to what, and so you can all do me proud, eh lads?”
And so began the chaotic process of tugging and pulling that greenskins call sharing out.
By the next day, the two biggest regiments of orcs were already sporting the make-shift shirts, kilts and breeches they had hastily sewn up using bone needles and twine. Guldag inspected them just after noon, and was pleased with what he saw.
“Very pretty, lads,” he laughed, “Now we ‘av colours to call our own. ‘An I reckon blue is suiting every one of yer!”