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Keymonus

Waiting in the wasteland

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Spoiler

 

Previously:

Out of the Ashes -Roadmonkeytj

To hell (and back?) -Keymonus

Meanwhile in Acropolis -Keymonus

Devastation of Charlatan Bay -Roadmonkeytj

 

 

Infero Pordejon, somewhere near to Northern Coast, 618

After a long, extenuating waiting, the day they had been waiting for had arrived.
During the previous days, all the patrols sent in exploration had found nothing but ashes, destroyed buildings and skeletal remains of the once luxuriant jungle… that damned mountain had hit very hard the northern part of the island, while the southern area and the settlement seemed, from advanced reconnaissance, almost untouched by the disaster. If that was a divine punishment for the sins of the Dark Bishop and of his damned followers, the next time gods should aim better, couldn't help but think Tristan.
What concerned him most, however, were the many signs of violence and pillaging his men had reported, such as smoke plumes in the distance, burnt houses and farmers fortifying their homes: sitting there waiting, while innocent civilians were being killed everyday, was destroying his nerves.
That morning, however, something was going to change: Master Sergeant Marcel Dubois, using his words, had "taken contact" with Gustaf Von Bricktin, and the old pirate was arriving to the camp; considering how pale Marcel looked, the contact probably implied being surrounded by an angry mob of pirates.

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In a very short time, the pirate gang entered the palisade: Gustaf was followed by a few men, shabbily dressed and covered with ashes.
Tristan immediately recognized his old friend, with his head up and the back straight. Despite the age, the long time spent as an outlaw and the peaceful retirement in Charlatan Bay, the old officer was still there, leading once again his men against the enemy.

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The army Gustaf had gathered, however, was quite different from the grenadiers he once had led into battle against the barbarians on Pontilla borders: his soldiers seemed tired and visibly starving, their clothes were dirty and tattered, while their weapons were a heterogeneous assortment of old rifles and melee weapons. However, thought Tristan, those men didn't surrendered in spite of all the troubles, of the hunger, of the hopeless situation: the old officer was definitely still there, and still knew his job very well.

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When the pirates entered the camp, tension rose a little: even if in a different uniform, all the volunteers were Oleander soldiers, and caressing the trigger of the rifle when seeing a pirate was almost a natural reflex. Discipline, however, prevailed, and the soldiers kept calm.

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"Tristan, old friend of mine! I will never thank you enough for your help! You have really been mad enough to come here, and you have also found found someone mad enough to follow you on this damned island… welcome on Infero Pordejon, by the way, even if you can't see my island in its best shape."

"You almost seem surprised, old buccaneer! How could I have missed a chance of seeing your ugly face?" Tristan continued, more seriously "I'm glad you are fine, Gustaf! When I heard of the Marderian coupe against the Bishop, and few weeks later of the disaster that hit Charlatan Bay, I feared for your life. How bad is the situation?"

"You know I'm a tough nut to crack… and the ones who tried plundering my housed learned it too. But I'll be frank: the situation is very bad. When the surviving Marderians left Charlatan Bay, the gangs of Lowtown, the pirate crews blocked on the island, and basically anyone who had a weapon or who could steal it started fighting: some for power, wealth and areas of control, but most of them for food and survival. The port still closed, since the bastards controlling the forts prefer speculating on the little available supplies, and the crops are failing. If we don't act soon, Charlatan Bay will starve to death, with the only exception of the responsible ones, who are becoming fatter and richer. Oh, I almost forgot, they also want my head on a plate for what I'm doing."

"Well, I've seen better situations…

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"...but I also brought from home a couple of toys that could be quite useful."

"I see you even brought a cannon… quite a strong argument during a discussion! But to be honest food is what concerns me most… we are scraping the bottom of the barrel, but the famine is imminent."

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"First of all, excuse me for my poor hospitality… you and your men have arrived just in time for the lunch, and I'm still holding you here talking. I think that things will look better after a proper meal, and it seems your men really need it. Unfortunately, I couldn't bring much without a proper landing point; a cargo ship will be here in days, filled with whatever we need to feed your people and begin the reconstruction, but we still have a little problem…"

"Yes, those damned forts! They will fire at sight."

"Unless we take care of them before. Come with me, after ten years we have again a battle plan to discuss together… and I think that the old officer I once met in Pontilla will enjoy my idea." 

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A carriage of supplies

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An overall view

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