Sheperd Of The Hills

[Margrave]

Springfield, Regional Capital Of The Tennessee Federation's Missouri Territory

Regional Governor Michael Henke was not a happy man.

It had started late last year, of course. The communications with the capital had come less and less since he'd come out here to relieve the last governor who felt "The need to retire to a more civilized area". Henke had been proud then, as he'd told his wife and relatives on their way out here. The governor's palace, built with the lucrative tax money of the local yocals, was certainly impressive, and the security he'd purchased from outside the region made sure his own valuables were kept safe. The Regional Security Act allowed him to compose a large military force...which soon became a club for drunks and partiers who wanted to have fun on the Federation's dime. All sorts of practical Federal Agencies found themselves either bankrupt or simply cut off. But no one noticed; after all, the local police were certainly enough to handle the odd drunk or thief, and no one doubted the ability of the towns to handle their trouble-makers...

At least, until the Storm came.

The last transmission the regional Storm Tracker Search vehicle had made before the winds hit Kansas city was "Class Five's Inbound, multiple vortexes....dear God.."

All across the northern and central part of the state, these killer storms took out major cities and towns. Wind picked up debris, bodies, cars, and deposited them across the region, destroying precious infrastructure and sparking floods, fires, and chaotic events through out the state. Whole towns were cut off from any traffic whatsoever as trees and boulders took out the roads. The regional Power Grid, once the selling point for Missouri's entry into the Federation, was picked up and thrown clear to Saint Louis. The train stations, the offices of local companies, schools...gone, in a flash.

It didn't take long for the troubles to start.

It began, of course, with the local food riots, as towns sent their menfolk abroad, either hunting or scavenging. Those towns and villages deeper in the hills had done quite well, considering they'd lost most technology that had to be operated electrically. The people grew abit leaner than normal, but food wasn't scarce for those who'd been raised in those poor hills and had occasionally been forced to get their food the hard way. The city folk hadn't been so lucky, and some people still cringed at the line of skeletons that still marked the road around places like Saint Louis and Kansas City.

The banditry was almost expected. As the local government continued to break down or hide, the forces they had employed from afar had dwindled as their pay either shut down or they decided to take a piece of the place for themselves. Although the loyalists still held the lands around the Capital at Springfield for sixty miles around, much of the rest of the state had been completely plunged into Chaos.

Now Mike was sitting in this dingy office, drinking stale coffee as he looked over the latest reports. They didn't cheer him...but little did, these days. The messages from the government had stopped long before now, and the promises of help faded like a bad memory.

"It's a good thing I've got something to keep me stable", he thought as he poured more Whiskey into his coffee.

A Bar Somewhere In the Ozarks

Will Sheperd was having a great night. The volunteer Fire Brigade he had joined up with after the storm last year had finally joined up with the local construction company to put up a new church. The old one had been burnt down rather mysteriously, but he and the others had managed to put together enough cash to afford most of the costs...and the Construction company didn't mind that the church owed them a little. The government soldiers who'd arrived from Fort Lenard Wood yesterday had only added to the group, and now they were celebrating the only way good country boys knew how: Drinking.

And so it was that Will found himself, his head gently resting against the bar-top, enjoying the calm drunken evening in a Bar on a Friday night. He and his buddy Randy had entertained everyone with some impromptu singing before they got too deep in their cups, and the atmosphere around the bar was still pretty upbeat. He smiled at his best friend and stood up, heading outside to see the stars.

That's when he heard the yelling. It was coming from the town square (Not that far in a town like Arlene, Missouri), and it sounded bad. Sheperd loaded his old M-9 (The weapon the Milita had given him when he first joined up) and snuck over to see what was going on.

From where he sat behind a barrel, he could already tell the conversation was heated; Old Man Wikell from the Town Council was getting shouted at by some angry looking man in what looked like body armor.

"...And if you think you can march in here and demand whatever you like, you have another thing coming!"

"I'd advise you to think about that, Chairman. I'd hate to see the potential of this town wasted, especially with such pretty little children you raise here."

"Sir, I advise you to leave the boundaries of our town before I have you arrested."

"I beg your pardon? Do you know who I AM, OLD MAN?!"

With that, the stranger grabbed a pipe he'd been carrying about and made as if to strike the old man with it. Sheperd quickly rose out of his hiding place and, without thought, put three nine millimeter rounds into the strangers skull, making sure that the Old Man was out of the way first.

As he came stumbling up to Wikell, he tried to get an explanation out of him. "What the hell happened here, old Man? What did this tom fool want with our Chairman?"

Wikell looked away, shaking his head. "It's not looking good, Sheperd. Those Strong-arms are out for blood, and they're looking to take Arlene under their wing. As soon as you sober up tommorow, round up the area Guard and those soldiers from Lenard Wood and meet me at the Town Hall."

They couldn't have known they'd never see that hall again.

OOC: The following people are invited to this RP:

Brian Reimer

Vince_Sixx

Sarah_Tintagyl

KaiserMartens

Yort92

pm me for an invite, anyone else.

Edited February 25, 2009 by Margrave

[Bacharth]

Randall Osbourne had one drink of choice: Moonshine and 7-up. Nothing else. He didn't know why he liked it, or why he started drinking it, but it got him pumped and ready for action. Also, it got him drunk real fast. It wouldn't impair him or anything. He's always said he's a better shooter when he's a bit buzzed.

Randy rushed out of the bar with a slight drunken stumble as soon as he heard the gunshots, removing his Kimber SIS Custom from his low-slung holster. He looked around and saw a man laying on the ground, the pool of blood leaking from his skull reflecting a red night sky. He saw an old man talking with his best friend.

"What happened here?" He asked with a slight southern twang. If those strong-arms are out hasslin' us again, there's going to be some bullets in skulls.

[The Confederation]

Soon after--on the edge of town...

The loudspeakers mounted on the back of the raider's vehicles cackled with deep laughter.

"HAHAHAHA"

Soon, the revving of scavenged engines and the howls of the raiders could be heard by every soul in the once peaceful town.

Then...quiet. It was like every single outlaw, raider and scum in the area had just evaporated into the thin mountain air. The trees swayed and cracked as they rubbed against each other in the light wind.

POW

A sound like a thousand screams rang through the air. Gunfire. Then, men on motorcycles and in crude vehicles raced through the town--throwing anything from rocks to grenades in the quaint shop windows. Dogs ran through the street, indiscriminately attacking town folk. The cries of women and children could be heard for miles away. Gunshots roared as any who opposed the looting parties were dropped on their spot.

What was most peculiar was it seemed that the raiders were not acting on their own accord. No...they were a proxy for something else...something bigger.

The attack upon the small mountain town had begun. Soon...the world would burn.

[Margrave]

Arlene was dying. Everywhere, people were running, fleeing the circle of buildings and streets into the night. Most of those unlucky souls would find themselves hunted down, chained, and dragged back to the fallen city. In the town square, the resistance, finally assembling into decent defense formations, roared back at the invaders with a fury as they used their various fire-arms to pick off anyone coming within their protected zones.

Will Sheperd, Captain Of The Arlene City Militia, wasn't happy. His buzz had died prematurely somewhere after the first bullet, and the crack and whine of the ricochets were bringing his hang-over into full swing. This did little to deter his aim (He'd been hunting slightly drunk ever since he could hold a rifle and a bottle of whiskey) as he put down another of the nameless, faceless men who seemed to swell and move like an inexorable tide. His M14 was in fine form tonight as he ducked and covered behind a trash-can, rolling out of his cover long enough to put another man down. The crackle of his weak hand held radio (one of three in the entire town) warned him of the next incoming attack...before the voices faded out suddenly.

He listened to the echo of a *BOOM!* somewhere across town. "There goes another piece of our past" he thought as loaded his rifle. Grabbing his radio off his chest, he passed orders to his Second in Command, a Sergeant Randall Bourne (Randy to his friends).

"Randy, it's a mad-house out here. We need to evacuate the city, but I can't find a safe path out that ain't covered by those damn bandits. We need some firepower to clear a path into the hills!"

With that, he jumped up and ran again, bringing his small troop with him....into the fires of the night.

[Bacharth]

When the cars and the bullets started flying in front of him, Randall ducked behind a stack of crates and laid there for a bit, taking shots at the passing cars' tires. Finally, he got one of the tires. The car started to swerve and flip over. Randall got up from the crates and shot the guys that still had their hands on guns. Both of his hands on the gun, he took one shot, then the next, point-blank.

"Trying to crawl away?" He said as he climbed over the other side of the car. He straddled the guy crawling out of the crushed chassis and shot him in the back of the head. He checked the car for any more of the men and then walked into the alleyway. He had spied another trying to run away. The man turned and took a couple shots. Randall dropped behind a dumpster. He peered out from behind it and then took a couple more shots. But, it was too late, the man had already run out and around the corner.

He then went back out to where Will was. Will said they needed some more firepower. He nodded and grinned. He set off for the armory. Best case scenario was that he would find a working tank. Worst case was just a bunch of C4 he could put together and throw.

The armory was cold and dark inside. People had abandoned that place after the town went to hell. From inside, a bunch of banging sounds could be heard. Then, silence. Finally, after taking a running start, Randall burst through the door and fell onto the ground. Moonlight spread into the large warehouse. Randall got up and started feeling around for a lightswitch. He found a circuit box, opened it up and turned the switches on; flourescent light gave the warehouse a new glow.

Well this isn't good. The warehouse was empty aside from the mothball equipment. Looks like they've raided this place too. So, he went to the mothball section: a series of crates and shelves packed with old ammunition and weapons.

Randall was somewhat of a gun nut. It's why he shelled out the fifteen hundred for his beloved pistol. So it went without saying that he was like a kid in a candy store. Unfortunately, most of what he saw was M1s and old pistols.

Then, he saw it. "Oh lord in heaven, A thumper." It was an M79 grenade launcher. He took the gun and the ammunition and joined Will with the militia.

[Margrave]

*Town Square*

The Square had grown quite after the first few hours of intense fighting. Even the raiders, as wild as they were, had temporarily withdrawn to get a better handle on things, capitalize on their superior fire-power...and prepare for the final assault. Will shut his ears to the death-wails of the fatally wounded, and the piteous whimpers of children hiding in their houses. Instead, he'd ordered the Town Square be readied for the final fights, and although the local Gas Station would probably be unhappy (if the owners weren't dead already) it'd been a worthy sacrifice to the cause.

As the night dragged closer to day, Will readied the militia; food had been passed around, jerky, cold ham and baloney sandwiches, even some hooch. This had raised the morale of his severely harried men, and there was even a stray smile on a few faces as they cleaned their weapons and readied for the final assault. As they readied the final defenses, first rifle shot cracked across the Square.

Hooting and howling they came; more beasts than man, armed with archaic weapons and random fire-arms, reveling in the slaughter. Many of them had decorated themselves in the blood and bones of the slaughtered foe, and the heart of every man in the militia burned with hate as they crossed the line of no return.

Will watched with gritted teeth as the main body filled the town square, even as his men expertly rose in ranks to fire, reload, fire, reload, three squads laying down layered fire with the clock-work precision of experts. He looked over at his friend Randy. What would happen if one of them didn't make it through the night? What? He shook off the thoughts as he shouted over the fire. "It's time to send these murdering !@#$%^&* to their father. Give them what they want, boys! Give them hell!"

And then their world exploded.

[Bacharth]

Randall ran into an alley leading into the square, the M79 launcher at his back. His pistol was out for quick shooting, but it was now time for the big firepower. He placed the pistol back into his holster and started to look around. Now, where could I make the biggest explosion? There we go... He grinned and loaded a round into the thumper. He lifted the sights and took careful aim.

The main deposit of the fuel depot sat there, untouched. If it could think, it probably wouldn't think anything of the fight. However, Randall was going to blow it up. "Time to go you raider sons of !@#$%*es," he mumbled to himself as he pulled the trigger. The round made a whoomph sound as it came out of the barrel. It hit the fuel depot dead on.

"Red 5 to Yavin, we have recorded a hit," he said into his radio. The fuel depot exploded with a massive fireball. The air displacement made him fall onto his back. He whooped and hollered in amazement as the thing exploded.

[Margrave]

The conflagration that had once been Arlene, Missouri burned brightly against the fading night. Will stood shocked for half a moment as he surveyed the damage to his home...the destruction of all he loved. Bringing himself back to reality, he yelled into his radio. "Randy! Get everyone you can together and head to the Lake! This fight is done for now, break contact and get your $@! out of here!"

With that, Will called the retreat for his own men. On their way out of the city, they came across a stable, and with little trouble, stole enough horses and carts to transport the survivors and soldiers they had managed to gather together. With everything they could carry and every man, woman, and child able to flee, they escaped into the night, as the Death Of Arlene continued in the burning city.

*A Few Days Later, At Lake Wappaello*

the camp of warriors and civilians made up the largest gathering the lake had seen to date. A few kind fishermen had let out some of their boats, and the gathering would be able to sustain itself...for now.

Edited February 21, 2009 by Margrave

[Sarah Tintagyl]

**Somewhere North of Arlene**

The great oak doors of the temple opened with a loud echo as two elderly men in white robes walked cautiously towards the altar at the front of the temple. Approaching the altar they bowed and then ascended the stairs only to find the man they were looking for knelt down near the altar praying softly, his head bobbing up and down from the various prayers he was reciting.

"Your Eminence. I don't mean to disturb you in prayer, but we have news that requires your immediate attention."

Bishop Hugh Lang had taken control of the religious organizations in Missouri since the Great Storm had hit and under his guidance he had tried to bring those citizens who still desired safety and peace through the glory of Andonai under the protection of the one true Holy Mother Church. Lang coughed as he finished reciting his last prayer and bowed at the altar once more. Standing up he was shorter than the two priests around him, but the respect he commanded heightened him beyond ages and strengths. "By the sounds of your voice Brother William I imagine that I would rather not hear what you have to say."

"There has been another attack, this time on Arlene, reports say that the city was entirely destroyed."

"Bandits?" Lang said as he sat down on the marble seat built into the ground and ran his wrinkled hands across his eyes.

"Yes Your Eminence, they have been becoming an increasing problem to the populace. Burning towns and pillaging all over the region."

The second priest looked up. "Your Eminence, we have to act, we have given our word to these people that we will protect them, the bandits are destroying the power of the Church, we are the only organized force left in the region, if we do not come to the aid of these people actively then no one will."

"Are you asking for military retribution Brother Anthony?" Said William.

Lang lifted his head. "Brother William, he is right, there are times when the shepherds must protect their flocks and we have the ability to do so." Stepping out of his chair Lang walked down from the altar into the center isle of the Church with the priests following him. "Brother William, I want you to take a group of priests in the area and scan the region around Arlene, you are to take any refugees to the monasteries so that they may receive the proper aid that the Church can give them. May Andonai be with you."

"And you Your Eminence." William bowed and walked out.

Lang then turned to Anthony and smiled. "I want you do give this to Sister Theresa." Lang took out a set of golden beads. "It is time to destroy this scourge once and for all."

Edited February 21, 2009 by Sarah Tintagyl

[Bacharth]

After the explosion, Randy set out to gather people from hotels, bars, places that had a lot of people. He gave able-bodied men and women all the weapons he found in the armory. They fought their way out of the town and retreated to the lake.

---At the lake---

Randy sat on a fishing boat with a few people. "Goddamn bandits took everything," he said, shaking his head and holding the fishing pole. "They killed the town, killed the people, but they goddamn sure didn't kill our spirits." The boat was pretty close to the shore, as Randy was afraid of being on a small boat in deep water. He yelled to Will, "So what do we do now, man?"

[Margrave]

After the explosion, Randy set out to gather people from hotels, bars, places that had a lot of people. He gave able-bodied men and women all the weapons he found in the armory. They fought their way out of the town and retreated to the lake.

---At the lake---

Randy sat on a fishing boat with a few people. "Goddamn bandits took everything," he said, shaking his head and holding the fishing pole. "They killed the town, killed the people, but they goddamn sure didn't kill our spirits." The boat was pretty close to the shore, as Randy was afraid of being on a small boat in deep water. He yelled to Will, "So what do we do now, man?"

Will sighed and rubbed his scalp. "For one, we keep the damn watch posted at all times. For the other, we see about getting ourselves some food. For now just stay on your boys to keep hunting and scavenging, and maybe tonight we might actually be able to eat more than trail rations. Talk to those local farmers, see if they don't want some of our valuables in exchange for some more food and weapons. For now, that's all we can do."

[Sarah Tintagyl]

**Near the Lake**

Theresa van Donop stared down from the hill at the gathering of fishing boats along the shore, she sighed and looked back at her contingent of riders coming up from behind. She had a long black cloak with the golden beads depicting Andonai dangling around her neck and she prayed softly as the riders came to join her. "Sister Theresa, the scouts report that this is probably the refugee camps that the Arlene population fled to, most of the locals confirmed it and they're helping them survive for now."

"Until the bandits come and take the local with them." She shook her head. "The whole region is just going to become a big refugee movement, chasing their goddamn tails until they either become bandits themselves or everyone is dead. No, His Eminence wants this to be the end of the chaos."

"Of course Sister. Shall we move into the camp then?"

Theresa looked back at her riders. Bishop Lang had created the Templar movement as a way to defend the Church from attacks from bandits and other ruffians. Their uniforms were easily recognizable, a black cloak, a sword, and normally a shotgun or rifle slung over their backs. The golden beads were a symbol of leadership and Theresa had held the past leader of the Templars in her arms as he died and pasted the duty on to her. The men respected her, but she didn't like the responsibility and would have much rather been back at the Church deep in prayer. "No, if they see all twenty of us riding down the hill towards them they might feel a little threatened. I'll take two of you down with me and we'll see what's going on. Matt, Luke, c'mon lets go."

The three Templars rode softly down the hill only to be eventually approached by the pickets that the refugee leader had posted around the encampment. Theresa and her soldiers placed their hands in the air. "We're Templars from the Church, we have people bringing aid and help and we would like to help with the bandit problem. Do you have someone in charge here?"

[Margrave]

Will waved his hand wearily in the air, his rifle still slung as he approached the strangers. He didn't know much about the Temple or its soldiers (not many did), but he would be respectful. There was no reason to upset twenty well-armed riders, especially with women and children about.

"William Sheperd, as you please. Captain of the Arlene City Militia and leader of this wayward band. I hadn't heard that the Church had expanded this far out, Sister." He took a breath. It was probably not wise to mention that the Church hadn't always had a good grasp on the region. "But I'm glad. Frankly, we're dealing with issues here that go beyond a little raid by some bandits. I don't know much about it, but apparently some local strong-arm type decided to threaten our town council into joining them...they of course refused. What you see here is the result of their refusal. Right now, we are working on getting together enough people to liberate the town, but you can see that the weather and the arrangement of fate hasn't been kind. You're welcome to share our fire for the night, as you please, and we may have some things for trade."

[Bacharth]

"Listen sir, all we need is some food and possibly weapons."

"Listen kid, with this bandit situation we don't got that much."

"That's why we need the stuff, to stop the bandits."

"Well, what if we give you some other stuff, like jewelry, gold, stuff like that?"

"What do you have?"

Randall sighed and grabbed a cardboard box full of jewelry and opened it up. Inside, the light shimmered off all the gold, faux-gold, and silver in the case.

"What do you think?" Randy asked.

"Alright, we'll take all of it for a couple days worth of food."

---Back at the lake---

"All of the farmers want an arm an a leg for food, I didn't even bther to ask about weapons," he said to Will.

[Sarah Tintagyl]

Will waved his hand wearily in the air, his rifle still slung as he approached the strangers. He didn't know much about the Temple or its soldiers (not many did), but he would be respectful. There was no reason to upset twenty well-armed riders, especially with women and children about.

"William Sheperd, as you please. Captain of the Arlene City Militia and leader of this wayward band. I hadn't heard that the Church had expanded this far out, Sister." He took a breath. It was probably not wise to mention that the Church hadn't always had a good grasp on the region. "But I'm glad. Frankly, we're dealing with issues here that go beyond a little raid by some bandits. I don't know much about it, but apparently some local strong-arm type decided to threaten our town council into joining them...they of course refused. What you see here is the result of their refusal. Right now, we are working on getting together enough people to liberate the town, but you can see that the weather and the arrangement of fate hasn't been kind. You're welcome to share our fire for the night, as you please, and we may have some things for trade."

Theresa jumped down off her horse and adjusted the rifle behind her. "We've been hearing about recent bandit attacks a lot as of recent Mr. Sheperd." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Sister Theresa van Donop, this is Brother Luke and Brother Matthew." She said as her comrades jumped from their mounts. "The Church has always been interested in playing a role in protecting those that we consider our flock and in this time of chaos it is ever more observant. My men are a vanguard force for a train of priests coming from the various parishes around the state. We were hoping that we would be able to relocate the refugees from Arlene and other cities that have taken hit and place them under the protection of the Church until militias such as yours Mr. Sheperd can deal the bandits effectively."

"As for the fire." Theresa smiled. "We'd be more than happy to oblige." She nodded to the two Templars around her who then sent a signal up to the Templars on the hill as seventeen more horseman trotted down the hill. But before Will could move, Theresa grabbed his arm and pulled him close. "I need to talk with you privately later, I think you'll appreciate what I have to say."

[Margrave]

Theresa jumped down off her horse and adjusted the rifle behind her. "We've been hearing about recent bandit attacks a lot as of recent Mr. Sheperd." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Sister Theresa van Donop, this is Brother Luke and Brother Matthew." She said as her comrades jumped from their mounts. "The Church has always been interested in playing a role in protecting those that we consider our flock and in this time of chaos it is ever more observant. My men are a vanguard force for a train of priests coming from the various parishes around the state. We were hoping that we would be able to relocate the refugees from Arlene and other cities that have taken hit and place them under the protection of the Church until militias such as yours Mr. Sheperd can deal the bandits effectively."

"As for the fire." Theresa smiled. "We'd be more than happy to oblige." She nodded to the two Templars around her who then sent a signal up to the Templars on the hill as seventeen more horseman trotted down the hill. But before Will could move, Theresa grabbed his arm and pulled him close. "I need to talk with you privately later, I think you'll appreciate what I have to say."

Will listened intently as she spoke. "We'll speak later, indeed. For the moment, if you'll draw your people to our shelters, we'll see about setting up accommodations and passing around some chow. Let's see what Cook's got for us this evening..."

#Later, On The Shores Of The Lake#

William Sheperd sat with his friend Randy as he waited for the Templar leader to show up. He'd arranged for them to meet..as long as Randy would be kept in the loop as well. If nothing else, Randy was his friend and his right-hand-man, and it wouldn't do to keep him uniformed. As they waited, he spoke. "Randy...I don't know how the hell we're going to do it, by by God, we're going to git those !@#$%^&* and take back our town. We gotta find out more about this strong-arm guy...and then introduce him to his Maker."

[Sarah Tintagyl]

Theresa walked down towards the shore of the lake where Will and his friend were sitting. It was a beautiful clear night and for that she was happy to be outside instead of behind the stone walls in prayer. At least Andonai still gave them clear peaceful nights. The lake was gently lapping against the shore as she sat down beside them and yawned. "You guys have quite the encampment here, the people are lucky to have you two as their protectors." Looking back out on the lake she sighed. "But what I wanted to tell you before Mr. Sheperd is that the Church wants to take an active interest in what is going on in the region. We've tried to be pacifists and hope that the bandits would eventually just disappear, but everyone knows that that is no longer the case. The Templars are now going to play on the offensive to hunt down these bandits and stabilize the country for the civilians, but we need support."

Leaning back she looked into Will's eyes. "I was sent to enlist any available men into our organization, but to be honestly I think consolidation would be a bad idea. The suffering that these bandits are putting on to the innocents is too much for me to bear Mr. Sheperd. I want to join forces with you, maybe together we'll be able to fight back effectively against these ruffians and the people, you can tell they look up to you." She held out her hand. "What do you say? Allies?"

[Margrave]

Will couldn't quite figure what to think. Drawing a ragged breath, he held out his own hand, and took hers. "Allies, Ma'am. To the knife."

*Later, at an Assembly By The Shore*

Captain William Sheperd, Commander of the Arlene City Militia and member of the Volunteer Fire Brigade was somber as he stood in front of the few hundred men, women, and children he'd scraped together. The hastily constructed stage was surrounded by that small sea of people; VFB and Militia members at the front, armed with axes and rifles, pistols and knives. Together, they would try and forge a fighting force out of those eager young faces in the crowd. But that would wait till the morning. For now, they mourned their dead...and swore their vengeance. They would build a base of operations here, fortify it and make themselves ready....but they would take back their home.

Later on, Sheperd and Randy got some of their best people in one of the tents for a planning session. Together, they'd see a way clear of all this madness. As they considered their best options, the Templar joined them, and they quickly began to share information. It finally came to a head. "Ma'am, would you be able to rally any more of your troops in the area to support our retaking of Arlene? As it is we're alittle low on bodies."

[Sarah Tintagyl]

Theresa smiled. "Yes I can do that Mr. Sheperd, the Church will aid the retaking of Arlene, but I will need time to come up with troops. Give me one day to head back to the Bishop and come up with the necessary army. I don't know how many Templars I can get, but anything I believe will be of aid." She shouldered her rifle behind her and turned to the two Templars beside her. "You two will stay with Mr. Sheperd as my personal contacts." Turning back to Will she bowed. "In a day we move on Arlene." Theresa left the conference and rallied up her Templars on the outskirts of the encampment, they rode hard against the wind back to the monasteries in the north. Theresa did not have time on her side, but she had to move quickly the stability of the region was now in their hands.

[hawk11]

OOC: I just noticed that the owner of this territory is not on the "Closed RP" list. Surely you're going to give them a chance to say something.

[Margrave]

OOC: I just noticed that the owner of this territory is not on the "Closed RP" list. Surely you're going to give them a chance to say something.

ooc: All efforts to make contact/request this territory from Yort were met with silence. If I must, I'll amend the list, but I'm laying claim to this portion of his land due to his inactivity.

[Margrave]

*At The Lake Shore, Camp Woe-be-gone*

The Camp had taken shape quickly, once the survivors of the Arlene raid had marshaled themselves together. Although most of the old leadership from the town council had been killed or taken in the invasion, Shepard had moved quickly to get together the most respected people in the Camp, and had set up a new Council. The newly formed council, consisting of a Veterinarian, a local hunting master, a judge, and a School Master, immediately created the role of "Town Marshal, placing Shepard as the leader for all the fighters and hunters who had been assembled to retake the town. It would also be his role to choose Sheriffs, the men who would pick and lead Patrols to protect the territory once they resumed control of the city. The Marshal also had the task of forming up the military structure of their new fighting force.

The AVFB hadn't been his idea; he'd been perfectly willing to use the old Militia to protect the people in his charge. Yet the Arlene Volunteer Fighters Brigade had formed itself out of the ether; the result of the Militia men and the fire-fighters (Two groups that held a traditional rivalry) having bled and lost friends together. The result was a new military group within the Militia; men who practiced on their own time, who began to painfully take up the art of war as a profession. It would be these men who would make up the hard core of the Missouri soldiery, and in days to come, they would all too often be the ones holding the line against defeat and disgrace.

But that would be in the days to come; for now they were 146 odd men who had taken to drill and tactics. The Museum Curator, a lover of early 20th century military conflicts, had provided them a manual or two grabbed off some foreign power back in the days when trade had flowed through these mountains. Training the men to work in "disciplined military formations", the AVFB learned to operate in two man "Buddy Pairs", four man "Fire Teams", 16 man "Squads", and 64 man "Platoons" (although the actual Platoons were considered "Platoons, Reinforced" as they hadn't yet marshaled the forces needed for a third Platoon). This, along with basic rifle training, survival training, and classes on signalling (From hand signals to smoke signals) would enable the newly formed fighting force the edge it would desperately need against the mad fanatics holding Arlene. All in all, Shepard was pleased with the final organization he'd presented before the Council, who had readily listened to him on all military affairs.

The Camp had begun to take up the appearance of a fort; a log palisade, several dug-outs for rifle teams, and a 24 hour Watch kept the few hundred men, women, and children relatively safe. As the Camp took shape, men continued to trickle in; farmers who'd had property in town, hunters who'd left their wives and children there while they went into the deep wild, businessmen and traders who'd been away while the fighting occurred. More than a few females, some who'd lost husbands and children had joined the fighting forces, and Shepard did not have the heart to gain-say them. They'd lost too much...and now they wanted the only thing that mattered to them: Revenge.

All in all, Camp Woe-Be-Gone was forming up nicely, thought Shepard. They'd be ready when the Templar came...and together, they would drive the murderers out of Arlene.

[Sarah Tintagyl]

"The Mass has ended." Said Bishop Lang with his hands raised over the congregation in front of him. "Go in peace Brothers and Sisters to serve Andonai in peace and righteousness."

"And you Your Eminence." The congregation returned as the great organ thundered its notes as citizens and priests alike began to file out of the pews. Within minutes the church was empty with the exception of on young woman sitting in the back of isle, a black shawl of the Templar order covering her face.

"Sister Theresa?" Said Lang as he stepped down from the altar and walked down the isle towards the young nun. "Is there something the matter?"

Theresa lifted up the shawl and smiled at the Bishop her blue eyes briefly sparkling under the candlelight from the ceiling. "You know Your Eminence that I do not like to ask favors and that I do not like to be in debt to the Lord."

"None of us do my dear, but what is troubling you?"

"Your Eminence, war is on the horizon for the state. With the destruction of Arlene, the citizens are finally taking action and we have a duty to support them, but we have only a small amount of Templars that we can spare from the monasteries. It is our duty to protect the citizenry of the state, but we will be spread so thin."

Lang sat down and gently placed his wrinkled hands on the golden beads around Theresa's neck. "You are the Grandmaster of the Templar's Sister Theresa and that alone is a position that is built upon uncertainty in the worldly kingdom but with absolute faith in the heavenly one. What may seem so impossible on Earth will only ring true in the Kingdom, I have faith in your battle and so does Andonai. You are the light that will vanquish the chaos of the land, this has always been our fight. The message we preach can only be understood when the forces of chaos are destroyed." Lang let the beads drop and sat back against the pew. "Now on a logistical standpoint, how many troops do you have under your command at the present?"

"A little over one-hundred, well trained."

Lang smiled. "Theresa we are not fighting against an organized state, one-hundred should be sufficient for the first fight and if we need to we will rally more to our cause. There are always those that desire to fight for the light." The girl smiled as Lang placed a hand on her forehead. "Andonai, bless this child in her duty to serve you and vanquish chaos from the land as your apostles did in ages past. With pray this in your name."

----------------

Hours later Sister Theresa and one hundred Templar horsemen, armed with rifles and bearing the symbols of their order rode off into the distance from the church and would arrive in the Arlene refugee camp before nightfall.

[Margrave]

The outer sentries (Two young men with a greybeard riding herd) were the first to see the soldiery of the Temple; shining in their raiment as they came. The greybeard quickly sent the youths into the Camp, where they stuttered stories of a thousand strong cavalry of the holy warriors of Adonai, shining like the sun. And though when the hundred came into sight of the main camp, the people still applauded and cheered...it was a sign of a new hope. They flowed effortlessly into formation after formation, the very soldiery of G-D Himself come to bring justice to the land at last.

Even Marshal Shepard cheered at the sight of the Riders Of The Temple; his eyes wet with unshed tears as he stood beside his friend Randy.

"Brother...I feel a peace I have not felt since the fall of Arlene. Let us go and greet them!"

With that, he descended from the palisade by way of a simple stair, till he stood at the front of a formation of the AVFB. 200+ strong they were now, having reached Company level strength with the influx of more settlers and survivors. He saluted the leader of the Templar's with an old Cavalry sword he'd discovered long ago, drawing it in the forms of the drill books the Curator had so kindly provided. As they came within hailing distance, he shouted "Hail The Riders!"

And the assembled warriors shouted as one, "Hail the Temple!"

and they and the assembly together said "Hail Adonai, And The Light Of Life!"

(For the missionaries of Adonai (Who is also Yahweh) and his Offspring (Imanual) had been among the camp for many days hence, spreading the word of the Lord G-D.)

And so they came together and embraced each other as brothers. It was in that day that many people became Adonites, and swore laymen vows to the Temple. And thus the Camp celebrated the arrival of the Riders, whilst the leaders of the Templar and the fighting men of Missouri met in a large tent to plan their strategy for the taking of Arlene.

[Sarah Tintagyl]

Sister Theresa and her five of her officers rode up to Marshal Shepard and his officers standing among the people, after dismounting she grabbed his hand tightly and smiled. "Its good to see your men still here and ready to go Mr. Shepard." Around her neck still hung the golden beads that Bishop Lang had given to her and took them off her neck and saluted handing them to Shepard. "General, these are yours until this conflict is over. I and my soldiers will be under your command, however all I ask is to be placed into your war council and that I will be given some amount of autonomy over my soldiers." She looked out towards the crowd and the soldiers celebrating. "Hopefully, General, this will be the beginning of the end of the bandit tyranny over our lands."