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> The Broken Lands
post Dec 11 2019, 04:19 PM
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Tribes returned home. There was little desire to push into stolen lands at the minute, they'd just unleash Dragons on the tribes anyway. Instead things began to return to normal. Orcs raided Goblins, and Ogres raided anyone for food. Trolls smashed people in and got smashed in. Things seemed peaceful.

That was until the Broken Foot tribe were raiding the Striking Claw tribes. Forces form the moot arrived and broke the fight up before it began. A new force was in the Brokenlands, the Moot and the Moot wanted peace. Fighting and a bit of raiding was one thing, but capturing other tribes and forcing them to join your own was too far. Turmek pulled the Orcs of the Brokenfoot back, swearing he'd do what he liked and no one would stop him, but now he'd agree. The Striking Claw tribe were puzzled, but grateful. It had been the third raid of the year and the tribe had lost half its numbers. At least some sort of Justice had been done and order restored.

House D'treal guards patrolled the edge of Silverfort. The Silver sage had been calming conducting talks with the tribes of the area. Explaining that this was a place of peace, and calm. No harm would come to those that arrived here in peace. Several of the chiefs of the area had been speaking to Kurten and Lucius D'treal and while they were unhappy about the Dragon, they accepted that if they stayed back then House D'treal and the Empire would as well. They couldn't promise the same as others, but around here it would be ok.

The evening was setting in and a group of Goblins arrived in rags and ripped cloths arrived. The lead goblin spoke
"'ello, I'm Grank and we got attacked by some Orcs, we need a place to rest"
The guard looked puzzled, "Grank? Don't I recognise you from somewhere"
"Er no sir, I am just a Goblin called Grank from the, er.,.. Scorpian Tribe"
"Scorpian Tribe, I thought they were Orcs?"
"What?! Er no, we are Goblins"
"Hang on, I do know you. You work on the Carters with the Magistrate, Kurth, you're."
"Oh sod it, stab them boys"
Shank quickly drove his knife into the D'treal guard. He'd hoped to get inside, but the gate would have to do. As the goblins began to bundle in they realised a small problem. The guards were falling back and not engaging. Instead calls for the Duke were being made. Shank looked around and suddenly saw Lucius and Kurten emerging from the Tower. He hadn't expect them to be here, a small problem.
"Boys, those guys Lucius and Kurten, they're worth big money from Squimm get 'em"
As the Goblins ran forward Shank calmly took a few paces backwards through the gate and then legged it into the night. The Goblins looked around and realised Shank was gone and they were surrounded. One Goblin cried
"It was Shank he did it" and was quickly stabbed by the others.
What followed was short lived, and perhaps brutal as the goblins tried to fight off the D'treal Guard and failed. The beaten, but still alive bodies were dragged to cells to await Justice for the murder of imperial nobles.

The sun rose and the Oxen were attached to the wagons. Most of the mines had closed when Imperial support had withdrawn, but The Fractured Vein company had kept going. It had been hard, but they didn't want to break their contracts. It was a little before lunch that the wagons set off loaded with the previous months gold. As they began to roll down the path a group of warriors appeared around them. The Wagons slowed at first and the guards readied themselves. Then they saw the banners, they were from the Frontline. Perhaps the Empire had decided to hire mercenary help again, finally. As they kept moving a figure moved forward from the Frontline forces.
"Hello, you here to escort us to Sellaville?"
"No, Tarek had different orders for us"
"OK, but we need to get to Sellaville, the Gold is due to move onto Halgar in a week"
"Well it won't be"
"What do you mean?"
"You are stealing from the tribes of the Brokenlands, taking what belongs to them. The Gold will be returned to them"
"Hang on, no way. We mined it, not them. They just fight each other. If we didn't take it then it would just be left in the ground"
"I don't think you understand, this isn't a request"
What followed was brutal. The Frontline were well trained and disciplined, and while the caravan guards were trained to fight a tribal rabble a proper force was beyond them.
When the skirmish was done, and the survivors from the Fractured Vein company fled the Frontline took control of the Oxen and began driving them into the Brokenlands. The gold, and prosperity it brought would be theirs not the thieves from the Empire.
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