Brigandage
I knew before ever Illiir sent me to this Sun-forsaken land that enforcement of laws and the protection of the people of Milandir was of secondary, (or tertiary?), importance to their leaders, but I could not have imagined how throughly the people of this land have debased themselves in just a few short generations of separation from the Coryani flock. They needs us more than I ever could have believed.
The events of the last several days are fresh in my mind, and while I try replaying them over and over, looking for reasons to excuse the Milandisians for the crime in their land, I can not come up with any valid excuses. They are negligent, and unwilling to protect their citizenry.
Having discovered the damage and grafitti done to Delahk’s wagon, the two of us went to confront the ruffians who had obviously performed the deed. How the authorities can have allowed this sort of thing to happen in broad daylight is beyond me. Did they think that everyone would flock to listen to the words of His Holiness? Certainly they should have, but the miscreants in every society will take such opportunities to commit their petty crimes, and Milandisian law apparently turns a blind eye to such things. And so, as men have done from the time of first light upon Onara, Delahk was forced to take redress himself against his would be defilers. It seemed only appropriate to join him; the Legions may not be here en masse, yet, but at least one of us is here to try to ensure that things are handled the Coryani way.
I believe Delahk showed a surprising amount of restraint in dealing with the ruffians. Their supposed leader hurled invective and spoke of Delahk’s mother in ways that would cause most men’s blood to boil. However Delahk continued to require of his detractors an apology. After some shoving, I saw the crimson hue of Delahk’s blood reflecting Illiir’s own blessing, and forgive me Illiir, my training took over. With a damaged ally, and a determined foe, I drew forth Your chosen means of retribution, that gladius which has carried me through so many fights, and waded into the fray.In less than half a minute, Delahk and I had slain their leader in honorable combat, and his two less-than-honorable compatriots rushed off into the crowd. After cleansing my blade on the tunic of my fallen opponent, I began administering him Your last rights. A fallen foe, to be sure, and possibly a man of less than Coryani standard morality, but still a talented warrior, and one to be admired for his skill at arms. Upon reviewing the battle in my mind’s eye, it occurs to me that the young patrician lass was present as well, and while her little bow made no effect on the battle, her two servants seemed willing enough to bloody their swords. Why they follow her I cannot imagine? Possibly they are indebted to her family, or their own families are held hostage for good behavior. She does not even deign to call them by names, referring only to them as “He” and “She.” In either event, their forced servitude only enhances my disgust with the Milandisian upper class and how they view everyone as a servant, and every problem as one that can be solved with money. I cannot remember the full joke, nor who told it to me, but the punch line was something like, “to which the Patrician responded, ‘then clearly you didn’t spend enough.’” Yes, the joke makes far more sense now than it did those years ago. More sense, but also it is more pathetic for being filled with truth. How convenient that immediately after the fight was over, that the local militia should arrive to survey the damage. Rather than armor and swords, they should equip their fanciful enforcers with sweepbrooms and wastebaskets, since all they ever arrive to do is clean up after the fight is done. I am personally abashed that I ever felt that Vigo, the wagon owner, was ever a part of the foul scum we had just defeated. A fine Coryani citizen, if ever there was one, he spoke on our behalf, and hired us on the spot as his guards. Certainly he traded up, as we had easily desposed of his previous hirelings, so a situational win for all. I cannot imagine what use he envisions the little girl as being, but at least her servants will be coming along. She seems more concerned with her hair and nails being scuffed during the trip, and where she will sleep, than in the actual dangers the journey might pose. The irony that she is a patrician female, and I am careful not to say “Lady” here, as what Lady would run off on such an errand as this, while her husband is away to fight, without so much as informing her family, or asking their permission. Are all of the upper class women of this land so brazen?
Several good days of march really helped to stretch out my legs, but while we certainly had been warned of orcs along the way, I could not have imagined quite how many there could be. In the Empire, there are small bands of roustabouts and wayfarers in areas, but large groups of organized thuggery such as we encountered is virtually unheard of. Waylaid by nearly twenty well fed, well lead, and organized orcs, it is a wonder that we all survived. Had it not been for the orc’s total focus on taking the wagon, I am sure we would not have been so lucky. Delahk and I fought to the hilt, but would have been overcome had the orcs not withdrawn. Surveying the other side of the battle, once again, it appears that “He” and “She” performed reasonably well, but that uppity lass, once again looks to have been shooting her cute little pointy sticks all over, but to no effect. If she ever gets good with that thing, I’m sure the local domestic animals will be in trouble. Your divine countenance shined upon us Illiir, and as your devoted servant, I can only trust in your protection. I know that when I prayed to You the other night that Your answers seemed vague to me at the time, but I believe I know now what you want. By having Delahk hold the Radiant Disc of Your faith while Your effusive warmth healed him, it helps him to understand from whence true redemption and glory comes.
And so, counting ourselves fortunate for surviving, and discussing what to do next, I was apalled to hear Delahk suggesting anything other than that we had an obligation to Vigo to retrieve his livelihood. Certainly I expected no level or moral responsibility from the female, given that the goods were not hers, but we made a pact with Vigo to see him and his goods through, and so far have failed at that mission. Luckily, a persuasive tongue, which I didn’t know I had (and I thank You for), turned the tide and Delahk will join me in returning Vigo his goods. Maybe at the next town, the priss will hire a carriage and a few hundred porters to carry her caviar and gelato, and she can go back to living her pristine useless life of leisure. There is work for men of faith to accomplish.
I know not, and care not, for the name of this town, but while we should have been done with our charge, the job is just beginning. Over twenty years in the Legions, I have never seen a man on detail crying like a newborn child that has soiled his swaddling cloth. Is this the sort of man the Milandisians entrust with their security? Then it is no wonder at the level of lawlessness I have seen. In garrison, a man my mourn the loss of a shieldbrother, but to whine like a woman over a cracked dish, or overcooked fish is simply unforgivable.
Even worse, is knowing the cause for his womanly display. Apparently there were several murders the night before, or was it only one? Alternately I am hearing that some beautiful lady was slain, and that the wife (or was it mistress) of the city’s governor was slain. I admit that at first it seemed that the storyteller was implying them as two different women, the idea being how could the governor of this squalid sea-side village be married to sucha high beauty, but the more I replay his words, it seems he claimed them to be one and the same.
So, to recount, I am barely over a week in Milandir, and I have witnessed theft, grafitti, attempted abduction and rape, inability and unwillingness to enforce laws, destruction of property, brigandage, and murder. Oh, and the brazen efforts of a highborn patrician female to spend time with men on the trail. At least Delahk has given up his unlicensed practice of body artistry, so maybe I am helping to bring about some change in his attitudes if nothing else.