- Influence
- 19,002.00
The cold of this forsaken island, even at this time of year, was biting as Talinn, his second-in-command Gyles, and their small squad of marines trudged their way through the snow to the interior mountains, more like hills, of Urk, following a loosely designated path of frozen mud and snow that led from the now-ruined totem pole of the village to their apparent place of worship. There were other paths, too, likely to the other villages of shrews, but none of those led into the interior. It seemed that the burgeoning theory being proposed by some of his Ministry underlings that the weather closer to the shore, regardless of where one was, always tended to be more moderate and hospitable than inland locations, had some kind of truth to it. That should be good for their forsaken little band, as it meant that there should not be too many, or any, shrews at the location of worship where the idol was rumored to be unless they had sacrifices, and hopefully they were all being organized to repel the intrusion by the foreigners rather than venerating their “god”, whatever it may be. That was one of the reasons he had ordered such a noisy bombardment of the village to begin with-Machiavellian, perhaps, but if it all worked out, the most efficient plan. They would be able to hold off the shrew counterattack for a time, while he and his small party grabbed the main objective with little or no resistance.
Talinn glanced down, for a moment, at himself, adorned with the finest leather armor that he could afford, his preferred attire when he was going into situations such as these. Good enough protection, far better suited to the cold than freezing plate armor, and it allowed him to be more mobile for longer distances. He then looked around at the rest of his party. Gyles, he knew, preferred or perhaps could only afford the steel curaiss instead, which must be very uncomfortable in these temperatures, and the marines going with him had largely eschewed armor in favor of mobility, with the heavier weapons they carried. At any rate, they should be fine, at worst they might run into some kind of small priestly caste and their escort, who they should be able to easily overpower.
Swiftness is more important for us anyway...for the most part.
Talinn glanced over at the two slowest members of the party, chained together by cold irons, and, perhaps, the most unfortunate of the two, then shook his head. Billy Clubs and Shorris, the two who had tried to rob him long ago in Alton Bay, who had faced the choice between going on this expedition or death for daring to assault a Minister, although, given the nature of the idol, the difference between the two did not seem that great. They were clearly not having a great time in their relatively lighter attire, but he, judged, should be able to make it to the cave and then back, although afterwards, given the nature of the curse, they were most assuredly damned.
Leading the party forward into the unknown that only one beast of the Imperium had ever travelled, Talinn looked over to his second, who dutifully strode a little bit behind him. The younger Stowett, son of the now seemingly mad elder Stowett, who seemed like a competent enough lad. Knowing they were in for a bit of a journey, he decided to make some conversation with him.
“Tell me, Mate Stowett, did your father have any tales such as these under his command? Any far away lands and mysteries he told you about?” He asked conversationally. It was going to be quite a journey there, and it was good to get to know the future commander of the Hide better.
Talinn glanced down, for a moment, at himself, adorned with the finest leather armor that he could afford, his preferred attire when he was going into situations such as these. Good enough protection, far better suited to the cold than freezing plate armor, and it allowed him to be more mobile for longer distances. He then looked around at the rest of his party. Gyles, he knew, preferred or perhaps could only afford the steel curaiss instead, which must be very uncomfortable in these temperatures, and the marines going with him had largely eschewed armor in favor of mobility, with the heavier weapons they carried. At any rate, they should be fine, at worst they might run into some kind of small priestly caste and their escort, who they should be able to easily overpower.
Swiftness is more important for us anyway...for the most part.
Talinn glanced over at the two slowest members of the party, chained together by cold irons, and, perhaps, the most unfortunate of the two, then shook his head. Billy Clubs and Shorris, the two who had tried to rob him long ago in Alton Bay, who had faced the choice between going on this expedition or death for daring to assault a Minister, although, given the nature of the idol, the difference between the two did not seem that great. They were clearly not having a great time in their relatively lighter attire, but he, judged, should be able to make it to the cave and then back, although afterwards, given the nature of the curse, they were most assuredly damned.
Leading the party forward into the unknown that only one beast of the Imperium had ever travelled, Talinn looked over to his second, who dutifully strode a little bit behind him. The younger Stowett, son of the now seemingly mad elder Stowett, who seemed like a competent enough lad. Knowing they were in for a bit of a journey, he decided to make some conversation with him.
“Tell me, Mate Stowett, did your father have any tales such as these under his command? Any far away lands and mysteries he told you about?” He asked conversationally. It was going to be quite a journey there, and it was good to get to know the future commander of the Hide better.
