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Part II of the first chapter of my series. I hope that you all enjoy. If you'd like to see the entire story, visit my "Complete Series" Journal entry. I update this story every other day, for those who wish to read it.
Victor sauntered his way pastas the crowd of frightened soldiers. He smirked as he broke through to the opening that the saber-wielding man had made. The other soldiers backed away from Victor's hulking figure. His armor glinted in the light that shown through the upper loft of the warehouse.
The soldiers all took in the sight before them. Victor was a large, black man, built to the core with muscle. His dirty blonde hair was hidden beneath his helm, but his yellow eyes shown through the eye slot. An eager rage burned within his pupils, begging to be set free.
His armor was an entire set of full-plate with customized parts. The helm was a simple design with one large eye slot that formed a T in the center. At the top of the helm, a white, silk tassel extended upwards and then proceeded to fall down the back of the helm. The pauldrons and vambraces both were rounded so as to deflect most oncoming attacks. The chestplate was as solid as they come, with three layers of steel along the chest, stomach, and abdomen. Beneath that chestplate was a layered cuirass of chainmail. Flowing from under the pauldrons was a snow-white, silk cloak that stretched down to the greaves.
This sight often struck terror in his enemies, but the enemy before him did not falter. The man gripped his sabers and took a stance. His left foot was forward, and his body was lowered, so that he could lunge at any given moment. His sabers were both pointed towards Victor.
Victor didn't take any time to gawk at the man before him. His eyes stayed on the man as he yelled, "Everyone watch this! Treat it as a lesson for defeating an enemy faster than you."
The crowd of soldiers backed even farther away, clearing a large area for the two to duel. Victor lifted his broadsword from his shoulder and held it in his right hand, letting it drop to his side. He raised his left hand and clenched his fist in front of his face.
Raising the tip of the sword slightly, he began to charge towards the man. The sabers would keep any normal soldier at a distance because of their speed and agility, but Victor knew of the curved blades' weakness.
As he gained momentum and closed the gap between them, the sabers began to flail about. He did not slow down, but instead took the attacks full on. With a wave of his sword, he deflected a blow that would have struck in between the crevices of his armor on his right side, possibly breaking a rib. However, the saber on his left side kept coming.
Seeing the oncoming threat, he began to spin on his feet, holding his fist out in front of him. He was only inches away from the man, and the saber was closing in fast, carving a path through the air towards Victor's throat. Despite the speed of the saber, Victor was able to close the distance even faster. With his fist leading the way, he completed his 360-degree turn, allowing the fist to make contact with the man's face, disrupting the momentum of the sword and launching the man backwards into a nearby wall.
With that single punch, the man was knocked unconscious. Victor ordered some of the soldiers to tie the man up and to proceed with the operation, to which the soldiers eagerly agreed, finding a new sense of vigor within themselves.
As he stepped away from the scene, he realized that the enemies were breaking. There were only a few thugs left in the warehouse, so Victor gave the order to capture them alive if at all possible. He leaned against one of the large poles on the outskirts of the main area and continued to watch the scene unfold before him. He lifted his helmet from his head and wiped sweat from his brow.
His soldiers were already far superior to normal warriors, mainly because they had seen the terrors of battle several times already. The Council of Virtuous Parley's Defense Division played a large role in the Yellowdale Kingdom, acting as it's reserve forces or mercenaries. The guild's military was, arguably, the second-most profitable Division because of this.
While some argue that acting as sell-swords is low or unsavory, all the officers had agreed that it would be a logical financial move, and even the former Guildmaster himself had argued that it would help urge the guild into a more profitable age. After his death, Claude met with all of the officers and questioned their thoughts on the matter.
After a long debate, the four officers, Henrik, Lorelis, Sylvestor, and Victor, all agreed on a compromise that they held true to even today. The guild could participate in any mercenary activity on three conditions: one, the employer must take responsibility for all results; two, the guild will not accept any contracts that make offers below two platinum per soldier hired; and three, the guild keeps all loot that is awarded from battle.
With these conditions, the guild had been able to make profits of up to at least 50 platinum per month. Since the guild often collected armors and weapons from their battles, their trading industry also grew exponentially.
Victor snapped himself out of his thoughts and shook his head. Replacing the helm, he strode back into the fray, beginning to pile up the leftover equipment in an empty cart.
Claude angrily slammed his fist down on the stone podium before him. He was clearly frustrated beyond measure. He took his time looking at each of the officers in the semi-circular room before him.
It was a large room that resembled a courtroom of sorts. This was the Grand Council Hall. Directly across the room in front of Claude was the exit; two large, stone doors that towered at a height of ten feet. From the door extended a large hall that expanded into an even larger circular auditorium, which was just below Claude's High Seat.
The High Seat was the Guildmaster's throne of sorts, which was in the center of the Grand Council Hall. The other four Seats were reserved for the Council's officers, which lined the exterior of the circular room to the left and right of the High Seat. All of the seats were on platforms that were risen up above the circular auditorium floor below, and the High Seat was risen even above them.
The walls were decorated with paintings and behind each Seat, five large statues, embroidered with silver banners stood in rounded recesses along the wall. Each statue depicted the officer's Division.
From left to right on the left side of the room, the Seats belonged to the Archiving Division, whose statue was a depiction of a scholar, flipping through a manuscript. The next Seat belonged to the Intelligence Division, whose statue was a depiction of a robed figure whose face was shrouded and unfinished. From left to right on the right side of the Great Council Hall, the Seat against the wall belonged to the Defense Division, whose statue was a warrior, clad in armor and who wielded a sword and shield. To the left of that was the Financial Division's Seat, who's statue was a figure with scrolls and coins stacked around it.
The High Seat was in the center, and the statue behind it was a figure that held a scroll at its chin. The scroll fell down to the bottom of the torso. Its contents were the Council of Virtuous Parley's Dozen Dicta, which were essentially the rules and guidelines by which the guild took on its members. Each member, even the Guildmaster, was bound by contract to follow these mandates, otherwise, they would face the judgement of the four officers.
These Dozen Dicta were as follows:
1: All members of the Council of Virtuous Parley are to follow the Dozen Dicta without question, unless otherwise amended by the High Council.
2: All members of the Council of Virtuous Parley are subject to judgement if they fail to contend with the Dozen Dicta.
3: No member of the Council of Virtuous Parley retains the ability to act of his or her own accord. All major acts must be agreed upon by the High Council.
4: The High Council can be subject to objection, and will be dealt with accordingly if the matter is found to be understandable.
5: The Guildmaster serves as figurehead and commander of all other Divisions, except in instances in which the High Council debates.
6: Officers serve as figureheads and commanders of their own Divisions, except in instances in which the High Council Debates.
7: Members of the High Council will take full responsibility for the results of any and all operations that might succeed or go awry.
8: All members of the Council of Virtuous Parley are to abstain from defiling, defacing, destroying, or damaging citizens of the Yellowdale Kingdom.
9: All members of the Council of Virtuous Parley are to abstain from defiling, defacing, destroying, or damaging property of the Yellowdale Kingdom.
10: All members of the Council of Virtuous Parley are to abstain from pilfering, purloining, expropriation, misappropriation, embezzlement, or thieving.
11: All members of the Council of Virtuous Parley are required to abstain from marring the guild's name or image.
12: All members of the Council of Virtuous Parley agree to the Dozen Dicta and are subject to the High Council if otherwise associated.
With the Dozen Dicta in place, most of the turmoil that was initially swirling within the guild in its early days had been swept away. For the last century, the Dozen Dicta had kept each guild member in place, and they had created a class system that puts the High Council on top, while leaving them subject to objection.
Claude hadn't looked at the statue behind him in months. Every time he stepped up to the High Seat, he never even paid it a glance. He knew of the Dozen Dicta and he followed them to the point on most occasions. As Guildmaster, he also reserved the right to amend the Dozen Dicta by convening with the High Council.
However, that did not happen in a formal setting the majority of the time. Claude or one of the officers have, in the past, just asked something like, "So, can we just bend the rules a bit this time?" If all of the officers and the Guildmaster agrees, then the matter is technically passed informally. All it would take is four other "Sure"s.
Claude was still unhappy with the days events. He glanced at the statues behind each of the officers and the banners behind the statues. The banners had the Council of Virtuous Parley's emblem sewn into them. It was a circle with four lines headed off in each direction. The circle embodied the Guildmaster, while the other lines were depictions of the four Divisions.
Claude looked away from the banners to the officers. Victor was looking nearly as unhappy as Claude was, despite his earlier comments about not minding if "Old Henrik" and Sylvestor managed to get their intelligence wrong.
Claude looked to Sylvestor, whose short, black hair looked even more frazzled than usual. His blue eyes were flickering from one page of a manuscript to another on his podium. "Perhaps I shouldn't let you convene with Henrik as often as I do," he said to the scholar.
At this, Henrik giggled beside him. Claude quickly shot him a glance, but Henrik didn't mind it. He just continued to try and stifle his laughter by squeezing his nostrils. Henrik's brown eyes were shut tight and his balding head was bouncing too and fro as his body rocked with the contained laughter. The short, white and black speckled hair that was left on his head sat in place.
As the Officer of the Archiving Division, Sylvestor often worked with Henrik, who was the head of the Intelligence Division. In this case, the two had worked together, but Henrik knew who was actually to blame for the folly. Hence why he had failed to stifle his laughter when Sylvestor was blamed for the ordeal.
Sylvestor had already decided he was not going to go down without a fight when he heard Henrik laughing. "That old man is at fault! I am not the one who told you that the shipment from The Seven Swords was going to be split into two shipments!"
Claude didn't bother scolding Henrik for his mistake. He continued to inquire about the situation. "Start from the top. Sylvestor, what exactly went wrong?" He laced his fingers around each other and rested his chin on them, awaiting Sylvestor's response.
"Well, you see... The shipment that was coming from the Lelantos Empire and The Seven Swords -- it was split into two shipments because the load was too heavy for the second ship. So, the shipment that was raided at the docks might have been... the first half of the shipment." Sylvestor had stood up to relay this information, and he eagerly patted his bright blue silk robe before he sat back down.
Victor had his arms crossed and his helm was sitting on the podium before him. He scoffed at Sylvestor's explanation and mumbled, "You're telling me that all that this morning was over a fur shipment? Hah!" His yellow eyes were burning with frustration.
Beside Claude was Lorelis, the officer of the Financial Division. She stood and looked up at Claude, "I've run the numbers and it seems that the cost of today's excursion might be around 80 platinum. If that's the case, then we may only make 20% of the profit that we had initially intended from this shipment. However, if we had known that the second, more profitable half of the shipment had not been raided, we would have made 80% of the profit by not going after the lost shipment."
Claude admired Lorelis' calm demeanor. She was matter-of-fact and did not sugar coat things. Her black hair resembled silk as her bangs fell down the left side of her face, and the rest fell down her back. Her eyes were forest green and they twinkled in the light of the colossal chandelier that lit the Grand Council Hall. Her petite figure found its way back to her Seat and she immediately began scribbling on parchment that was covering her podium.
Claude nodded at her analysis of the situation, and his nod eventually evolved into a frown. "When is the second half of the shipment arriving, Sylvestor?"
"If it arrives on time, roughly two days from now." Sylvestor straightened his spectacles and examined Claude's facial expression. His frown had begun to dissipate, replaced with a smile, and his white hair fell down his back and shoulders in his ponytail. "What is it that you have in mind, Claude?"
Claude firmly planted the smile on his face. "All in favor of taking action to retrieve the shipment ahead of time, say 'I,'" Claude said, raising his hand.
The officers, except for Henrik, seemed confused at first. Henrik just smiled, and leaned back in his Seat. "I," he said, relaxed.
The other officers eventually came to agree with Claude, even though they did not understand his intentions. This was normally how it was. Claude often failed to comfort the officers with explanations.
"Then that settles it. Victor, send a dispatch out to the Lelantos Empire. You and I will arrive at The Seven Swords' guild hall within the night." His smile stretched even farther across his face as he stood up from the High Seat. Looking down at each of them, he left the officers with one final remark. "Our shipment arrives in the morning."
 Ty-Harukii · Wed Jun 28, 2017 @ 10:48pm · 0 Comments |
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