Recruit Trainining with Colonel Mord Cabro
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*Mord watches Wren on his rounds as she works her way through the trees. He shakes his head and mutters. * "One day someone will figure it out" *He shrugs and moves on nodding to the Lieutenant keeping an eye on the tainees as they go through their paces.
The next dawn he paces in front of the trainees and stops and stares at Eza a moment in silence. He moves on and speaks quietly to the Lieutenant. Soon he moves off and the Sargeant in charge of the trainees voice rises in a soft snarl that cuts through the morning sounds. Soon the trainees are headed to the broken lands near the croosraods, packs full and short batons in hand. The day is warmer then normal for a change so the pace is set accordingly….a fast mile eating trot.
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After a lengthy absence, Ezachiel has returned to Narfell, and has rejoined the other trainees.
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Another limb is tossed down to the waiting bucket.
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Dwarves are not the most adept at climbing trees, but with rope and pitons they can manage.
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A rhythm is quickly reached. The saw cuts a guide-groove, and then a single powerful blow from the hatchet severs the branch. This works well on all but the largest of limbs.
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The larger ones, of course, require rather more sawing and less use of the hatchet. Rope is tied to them on two sides, so that when they are cut free they can be lowered slowly to the ground instead of crashing down uncontrolled.
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Wren works steadily, pace unbroken but unhurried, garbed in worn brown leathers and a broad hat to keep off the sun. Her face wears a half-smile that doesn't change with the occasional splinter or torrent of chittering abuse from squirrels.
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Once all the designated trees are cut, she takes the bucket and bundle of limbs, and packs them into the town. The branches go into the woodpile for evening fires. The bucket of sawdust goes to the Boarshead for the floors. The tools are taken to the craft hall, and carefully resharpened before being turned back in._
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*Mord nods absently to the Chancelor then looks at Wren thoughfully. He talks quietly to the Lietenant in charge of the trainees for this day. He gets a blank stare for a moment then a sharp nod and salute. At dawn Wren can be seen heading ut the south gate with a bucket a rope a saw and hatchet. Mord can be seen moving along the ridgeline of the defenses pointing to certain trees. The words "clear field of fire" can be heard as he moves off. The Lieutenant barks the words int he recruits ears "aye recruit, twelve feet up, trim all the limbs back that far, Ye gots yer tools".
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The chancellor can sometimes be seen watching wren's training from a distance, observing Mord's reactions to the dwarf and taking note of how well she takes to the rigors of Norwick Boot Cap. He seems pleased with her progress, often giving a nod of approval to Mord before moving along.
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_Wren can frequently be seen being put through the paces by the militia, the studiously blank look of someone used to the millitary life on her face. The most common phrases out of her at these times seem to be 'Yessir,' 'Nosir,' and 'As you say, sir.'
The training is quite rigorous and her red-and-silver armor is frequently spattered with mud and blood by the time she returns. She seems able to keep up, though… like most dwarves, she's hardy and in disgustingly good health.
The training gives way at times to active duty... arresting a mage, fighting off goblin attacks, rescuing citizens from the woods, and helping to quell eruptions from the portal stones._
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The Dwarven Lass stands head and shoulders below the other recruits but she is at muster and accepts the trainning baton from Mord Mord walks back in forth in front of the recruits silently then flicks his eyes toward the Lieutenenant and barks out: Yers Lieutenant, ye have the orders. I want ta see em in the field in 4 days, as a unit. I want most back alive. He runs a cold eye over the recruits one more time and strides North as orders are shouted behind him.
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Mord breathes in the early morning mist, coughing slightly at the thickness of it. He stands near the hardpacked ground and snds the recruits north on a morning jog, in full kit and armor. He sets the shovel and pick next to the spot picked out by the Commander and jogs off after the recruits smilling crookedly as he gets ready to pass out the duty when they arrive back
The recruit sweats heavily and wipes the back of his brow, leaving a trail of dirt behind. He straightens his sore back and catches a glimpse of Mord heading his way and bends once more to the task at hand, arms leaden and shoulders burning.
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Though not loud Mord's voice cuts through the evening air One more turn around the walls lads and the last one to the barracks will dig the new latreen tomorrow….as well as the normal trainin..NOW MOVE!!
He turns and heads to the barracks smilling thinly as he passes the gasping Eza in his sweaty leathers.
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Intown training has begun again and mixed among the recruits is a familiar but odd face. Eza is handed a batton at sunrise of the day and he is sent in to do warmups as the new recruits get ready for the day. Empty packs are loaded on the recruits and as the sun crests the trees they are sent hustling off to the stone pits to the north. Senior member are sent along to harry the recruits with a special amount of loving care given to the mage in their midst.
Mords words can be heard over the clatter of feet "Rocks by noon as High as I am tall by the south perimeter". Then he strides off.
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Mord starts tagging recruits and trainees and pulling them over to the broken lands west of camp. He hands out blunted arrows to the archers and padded clubs to the rest. Standing in front of the group he outlines the excersise. Ye most like have hard of the push ta get our town back. Well, fightin in a town be a bit different then the open field of battle. Small strike tems supported by short distance fire is the best ye can do. Once insde a city, it be a maze no matter how well ye might know it.
He glares at the bunch of them Ye have a unit, ye get lost from yer unit and ye no longer have a unit just a bunch of meat waitin ta die. Ye have yer arm bands. Red is the town defenders, blue be the attackers. I will be up on the ridgeline. I best see the units workin tagether or ye will hear from me. Blue team yer job be to push em out and break em up. Red ye are ta keep em out er drive em back.
He hands a map to the red team Ye have 15 minutes ta get inta position. Last word, I care not fer a few bruises but If I hear of broken bones ye will be runnin guard duty on the bridge while we push into tha town.
Mord heads up to a high spot as the red team scrambles to its positions. He smiles thinly and notches a blunt arrow to his bow as the blue team breaks up into smaller units and starts to move.
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Training has really changed with the change in circumstances as trainees are enlisted in various tasks. Many are put on guard duty and help police the camp. they keep the fires tended and help the cooks in their dayly work. Mord can be seen dragging one or a few off now and then but he is often busy and usually gives them daily tasks, stopping now and thn to observe or comment.
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Mord sighs as Corana leaves the barracks, then shrugs and muters Mayhap fer the best. He continues to look through the reports and goes over the tranning sessions. He frowns as he jots downs a few notes then puts the paperwork away and blows out the lamp
The following morning Mord is up early harrying the trainees out the gate. Corana i noticeable in her lack of carrying a trainning staf though she is marched out with the rest of the group. Mord keeps an eye on Kresha more then usual but other than that it is another long day of goblin hunting followed by reports and tactics then cleaning equipement and normal tasks.
The only unusual item was when Mord shot an arrow into the leg of a trainee that charged out in front of the group as they set their front for a strike. Well now lad As he pushes the arrow through and snaps it off and pulls it out Not a good place ta be when we are setting defensive fire is it? He poors a caustic blood coagulant on the wound and efficiently bandages it Now which of yer fellows is goin ta help ya hobble along with the rest? Mord pulls another arrow from his quiver Move out!!
That evening he fills out more reports and reads through some of the others. He jots a quick notes to the other sargeants. Got an elf who fancies himself a scout. Ye want ta see what he can do int he scouts? Writes down the name; Belor Di'ren.
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_Something seems to be amiss with Kresha in the last few days. Her performance has dropped slightly in training and out in the field. She can often be seen in between melees rubbing her temples or shaking her head slightly as if trying to bring herself back to her senses.
Rumors heard around the fire seem to point to her taking an injury in the defense of Jiyyd. Something about a direct hit from a siege weapon…seemingly to the head…_
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In response, Corana looks over the messanger and tells him:
"Let the sargeant know I'll be there in a few minutes, after I wash up a bit."
With that, she unbuckles her plate and washes her bloody hands in the lake before heading toward the barracks.
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Mord watches the initiative of some of the trainees and can be seen in conversation with the other sargeants. His constant flat look gives nothing away as to how he thinks the trainees are doing, though the lack of a sharp rebuke or extra duty could possibly be accepted as approval, but then aain maybe not.
One evening while Corna is out arranging her goblin heads by the lake another trainee comes jogging up to her. He stays a good ways back but manages to get out Best get on into the sargeant, he demanded yer presence now….He starts to say something else then looks once more at her and makes a hasty but somewhat dignified withdrawl.
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In addition to the scheduled trips into the Rawlins with the other recruits, Corana can be seen going on occasional ventures of her own. After each trip, she returns with a sack full of goblin heads, which she spreads around in various formations by the lake south of town, as warning signs to the greenskins that "The Butcher" has made another trip through their territories.
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_When not involved in physical labor training or "mental endurance" excercises with her superiors, Kresha can be found at the South gate tending to her weapons and armor awaiting other militia trainees or members for patrol exercises.
She always seems to be in good spirits even upon returning from patrol bloodied, bruised, and sporting a slight grin._
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The trainees still got tasked with dayly duties and were then sent out on Patrols. Mord observed and did not step in unless it was needed. After every session a short report was made by trainees and Mord would point out where things may have gone better and different uses for the troops in a given situtaion. Most patrols came back soaked and blody but they always came back.
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Mord throws a quick salute to Dwin Aye ser. Tis time ta blood them the right way.
He gets together with Loc and begins laying out the trainning sessions Within a day new orders are posted and the trainees quickly gather to read through them. An air of relief, excitement and eagerness runs through the barracks. Whipers of "Its about time…..enough with dummies and rocks...." can be heard
Rotating groups are listed so that the recruits will get used to working with a variety of others. Small strike forces are formed, broken down into distance and close in fighting. Positions shifted so all could work on different fighting techiniques. Mord and Loc went along and observed and set up the scenarios as to how each encounter would be handled. Scouts reported in and quick plans made and carried out. Shouts could be heard through the wood as the trainees took to the field.
Battlefield healing is drummed into all the recruits on their own cut and bruised bodies when needed. Healers were held back, sometimes to their frustration, but the sargeants were adamant. A dead healer hurts more then emselves!! was heard often.
*And so the recruits moved on, learning the new defenses in and out so that they could navigate them with their eyes closed. They learned to trust and await their scouts. They learned to use cover and attack in unison and retreat that way also. * Bleed em lads!! became the command for the distance fighters and often the enemy never made it within striking distance, the point being made.
((Please try and get together in game in groups and work on this. When I am in I will try and look for others and drag them to the wood. Carry on))
