It occurs to me as I count the steps from one corner to the next, putting the information away in the back of my mind just in case it comes in handy, that even when I am fully employed, tasked with a monumental job like controlling the city under a lock down, I am without purpose. Odd, isn't it?
My patrol is going quietly, my third one of the day, taking a tour of the trouble spots, making sure I pass repeatedly through the slavers market. This is another attempt to get a message across to those who think they hold domain over other's lives, that I am watching the whips, and the shoddy paperwork attached to these unfortunate souls that stare hollow eyed from behind the bars. I have been a stickler about every T crossed, every I dotted, so that no one who does not have legal cause to be in chains, lingers long within them. I am forcing these Slavers to play by the book, and so far, it has not earned me many friends among their numbers.
I pass through without incident and move on towards the poorer end of the city, my pace unhurried and my attention to my surroundings, absolute. However, my mind does trip back and forth to the different problems that have been set to me to resolve. First, what do I do with the goblin that lingers in the stockade? The raid on the city cost the lives of thirteen civilians and one militia recruit. I piled twenty six goblin carcasses just outside the grassland gates and ordered the bodies burned. I am convinced my theory on the raids is sound, and that they are sending these minimalistic attacks at the city during broad day light simply to panic the people, to ensure the gates remain closed. The caravans are down and so is what they bring in, armed escorts are getting harder and harder to provide. It leaves the goblin forces nearly unchecked when their small groups punch through the borders, and in this way, they slowly whittle us down to nothing. Soon, if we do not reinforce the Badland borders, they will come en mass, and overrun us once and for all.
I take a corner and glance northwards, looking up a large log building in the depths of the slums, and pause before its door, simply listening. A few bellowed laughs, the murmur of idle conversation, the clinks and thuds associated with glasses and bartops. All seems well, and so my feet begin once more to move, passing the darkened door of the pawn shop. Nothing open this late at night, and I had noticed, for some reason, this area is rarely included in the mapped out patrols. I am going to have to change that, if there is anywhere in the city that could use a little extra security, its here.
My mind wanders back to the stack of files on my desk, odd reports of people with strange, non-life threatening injuries, petty assaults, in many cases, memory loss. It smacks of something I recall, from my homeland, something that was going on when I was young. I can not quite put my finger on it, it just seems...familiar. I shake off the thought and focus once more on my surroundings, striding past the temple, casting a look through the massive double doors to see the ever present flickering candlelight that welcomes the lost souls of the city.
My path carries me over a long stretch of blood stained street, the eastern market, the walls too, bearing record of the raid that hit us a few days ago. Its clear the efforts to clean up the mess have only gone so far. I am sure the whitewash will be reapplied promptly as to try to erase the evidence and return a sense of oblivious calm to the masses. It's a waste of time if you ask me, but in a way, they have a point. Sheep require little to keep them happy, and a wise Shepard will provide for those small needs without fail if he wishes to keep his flock intact. Patrols have been stepped up, now all we need is a decently supplied caravan to arrive without incident to help ease the pressure further.
Something reminds me of the goblin captive we have sitting in one of the cells in the stockade and leads me in turn back to the problem of how to make him useful. The cells are once again empty, besides our newest guest compliments of the raid, and due to a brilliant suggestion I was given. 'If they are well bodied and causing problems in a time of crisis for our people, then put them where they are best suited. On the front lines'. And so, I did. I made their departure a public one as well, having called in a favor from a field commander I knew, who I knew would put them to the best use possible for their kingdom. Seems I am sending messages all over the place these days, to all sorts of people. I can only hope that they take me at my word, and do not test the limits I set for this city. I will do what I must to maintain order.
Perhaps, that IS my purpose, perhaps that is why I am here, why I am driven to persist even when I fail to remember why I started in the first place. Still it leaves me to wonder, when the task at hand drives you, but leaves you without satisfaction or fulfillment, no matter what the of your efforts, successful or otherwise, where do you turn for guidance?
Perhaps...it is time to pray again.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
The Peace Keeper
My arrival to the thorn covered gazebo that inhabits the busy intersection, goes largely unnoticed by those who linger nearby or hurry past. It's nearly midday now and the foot traffic has been steadily thickening since dawn. The little faceless pick pockets that skitter like vermin along the edges of the market, like to work this corner for the way it tends to jam up, making up close contact sometimes necessary if you wish to get from here to there without a lengthy detour.
It is my first patrol with my polished captain's pauldron on display, and as expected, I got a few lingering, slack jawed looks. I paid them no heed, those who knew me, knew I had nothing to prove....not anymore. I stuck to my usual route through the city, starting at the stockade and moving towards Merchant's Bazaar at a steady, practiced pace. As I halt by the old wooden gable, the wooden platform nearly engulfed with an ancient rose bush, I habitually scan the crowd for signs of mischief and find myself relieved to have encountered little so far today. With the gates closed and tensions rising, there have been a rash of petty assaults and thefts and the nobles have wisely retreated behind their walls. Until word comes down from the palace, this city is under lock down, and no one gets in or out. It has taken me nearly four years to manuerver myself into this position, and by the gods, I plan to do the job right.
I am about to move off, when I spy someone in the distance I have not seen in some time, moving purposefully through the square with a brooding expression upon his face. Anyone around him could easily tell he was nobility, clothing, stance and demeanor all demanded recognition. As I follow him with my eyes, he glides effortlessly through the crowd as the peasantry seems to part for him without prompting. Something about seeing him, simply walk through the square, sends me back to the voyage here, and the reason behind it. Curiously, I am overwhelmed with a sense of nostalgia, and a longing for people I thought I had put behind me.
I recall the charming man with the smooth voice, as we talked for hours below deck in a small cabin he was informed was his quarters, larger than most, but still clearly less accomidating than what he was used to. Oddly, I know very little of him considering how much time we spent idly passing the time in conversation, but I am at the same time, grateful to him for it. It was quickly established when we met, that neither of us wished to discuss ourselves or our pasts, and we both abided by those unspoken rules during our voyage and so, we passed the trip in each others company and yet learned very little of each other doing so. Another thing I recall, which I was pleasantly surprised, is the man was a perfect gentlemen, never once pressing advance, or making suggestions that would perhaps offend my 'delicate sensibilities'. Which, is just as well for me, for I would have had to resort to less than lady like behavior to rebuff him, and I was at the time trying to keep a low profile. It made the journey easier to have him to talk to and easier still not to have to dump his presumptious backside overboard.
I am jolted from my thoughts as the object of my memory begins to move off and I wonder if I will cross his path again. I grumble a moment as I sharpen my attention back to the crowd and begin to head towards the temple, continuing my patrol. I nod to a wide mouthed women who stares at me as I pass, my captain's pauldron apparently some sort of visual distraction for her. So far, only one direct confrontation from a couple of men thinking the decision to make a woman the captain of the Delmarii Militia was a bad idea. But with a lack of able bodied males, who had the skills for the job, it fell to someone who could actually do the work.
The war had dwindled the numbers of healthy young men in the city, and its male population was either too young, or too old and infirm to perform much of the work still required in the city. Thus, it fell to the women to take up the slack. When I arrived in the city, many women were now doing normally male oriented work, and doing it well enough for the city to struggle on. I knew I was going to have to face a few egos when I put on the pauldron and that I would have to put them in their place quickly if I was going to last a week in this job. When the first pair of them pressed their displeasure of my appointment, I made sure their arrest was public and that I dropped them both quickly and that they were hauled away in chains. I will release them in a few days when they have cooled their heels a while, but in the mean time, the general population gets the message that I mean business.
As I walk the streets, I see a sense of desperation in the people, that look a wolf will get in its eyes once its been caged. So far, the calm is holding, and that is all I can hope for until the Queen lifts the lockdown and casts open the gates so supplies can flow once more, and this tension can ease. If I want to avoid this city exploding into chaos and violence on my watch, I will need to keep a sharp eye on things for a while to come yet. I approach the temple and then move on past it, continuing through the market place. There will be plenty of time for prayer later, for now, I have work to do.
It is my first patrol with my polished captain's pauldron on display, and as expected, I got a few lingering, slack jawed looks. I paid them no heed, those who knew me, knew I had nothing to prove....not anymore. I stuck to my usual route through the city, starting at the stockade and moving towards Merchant's Bazaar at a steady, practiced pace. As I halt by the old wooden gable, the wooden platform nearly engulfed with an ancient rose bush, I habitually scan the crowd for signs of mischief and find myself relieved to have encountered little so far today. With the gates closed and tensions rising, there have been a rash of petty assaults and thefts and the nobles have wisely retreated behind their walls. Until word comes down from the palace, this city is under lock down, and no one gets in or out. It has taken me nearly four years to manuerver myself into this position, and by the gods, I plan to do the job right.
I am about to move off, when I spy someone in the distance I have not seen in some time, moving purposefully through the square with a brooding expression upon his face. Anyone around him could easily tell he was nobility, clothing, stance and demeanor all demanded recognition. As I follow him with my eyes, he glides effortlessly through the crowd as the peasantry seems to part for him without prompting. Something about seeing him, simply walk through the square, sends me back to the voyage here, and the reason behind it. Curiously, I am overwhelmed with a sense of nostalgia, and a longing for people I thought I had put behind me.
I recall the charming man with the smooth voice, as we talked for hours below deck in a small cabin he was informed was his quarters, larger than most, but still clearly less accomidating than what he was used to. Oddly, I know very little of him considering how much time we spent idly passing the time in conversation, but I am at the same time, grateful to him for it. It was quickly established when we met, that neither of us wished to discuss ourselves or our pasts, and we both abided by those unspoken rules during our voyage and so, we passed the trip in each others company and yet learned very little of each other doing so. Another thing I recall, which I was pleasantly surprised, is the man was a perfect gentlemen, never once pressing advance, or making suggestions that would perhaps offend my 'delicate sensibilities'. Which, is just as well for me, for I would have had to resort to less than lady like behavior to rebuff him, and I was at the time trying to keep a low profile. It made the journey easier to have him to talk to and easier still not to have to dump his presumptious backside overboard.
I am jolted from my thoughts as the object of my memory begins to move off and I wonder if I will cross his path again. I grumble a moment as I sharpen my attention back to the crowd and begin to head towards the temple, continuing my patrol. I nod to a wide mouthed women who stares at me as I pass, my captain's pauldron apparently some sort of visual distraction for her. So far, only one direct confrontation from a couple of men thinking the decision to make a woman the captain of the Delmarii Militia was a bad idea. But with a lack of able bodied males, who had the skills for the job, it fell to someone who could actually do the work.
The war had dwindled the numbers of healthy young men in the city, and its male population was either too young, or too old and infirm to perform much of the work still required in the city. Thus, it fell to the women to take up the slack. When I arrived in the city, many women were now doing normally male oriented work, and doing it well enough for the city to struggle on. I knew I was going to have to face a few egos when I put on the pauldron and that I would have to put them in their place quickly if I was going to last a week in this job. When the first pair of them pressed their displeasure of my appointment, I made sure their arrest was public and that I dropped them both quickly and that they were hauled away in chains. I will release them in a few days when they have cooled their heels a while, but in the mean time, the general population gets the message that I mean business.
As I walk the streets, I see a sense of desperation in the people, that look a wolf will get in its eyes once its been caged. So far, the calm is holding, and that is all I can hope for until the Queen lifts the lockdown and casts open the gates so supplies can flow once more, and this tension can ease. If I want to avoid this city exploding into chaos and violence on my watch, I will need to keep a sharp eye on things for a while to come yet. I approach the temple and then move on past it, continuing through the market place. There will be plenty of time for prayer later, for now, I have work to do.
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