Lore book: Difference between revisions

My Honorable Lord.

Successfully recruited. Had to prove intentions, apologies to Baron Tassi for disturbing his sleep and the stolen chamberpot - crude sense of humour.

Group I joined is chapter of a bigger organization. Intentions unclear, but much talk of self-sufficiency.

Made up of both men and women. Peasantry foremost, some craftsmen: a cobbler, two carpenters, a servant. Just under two dozen souls. None can write or read I think, but I shall keep vigilant.

Will ingratiate myself with them and keep gathering observations.

Await further missives.

My Honorable Lord.

Confirmed suspicions. Heard boasts of loot from the raid on your lordship’s holdings and Viscount Cardoso’s ale stores.

Bandits work together with another group, spoken of as friends not competitors - likely another chapter.

Targets for attacks decided based on current needs - medicinal supplies right now, advise to send word to all at risk.

Recruitment seems to be regular but not codified, though generally proof of worth expected. Obtaining a noble’s belonging or acquiring a small amount of supplies through some swindle seems a common story.

No suspicion of ill intentions after a newcomer is welcomed, confirming your lordship’s assumptions - these are not sophisticated folk. Meeting places determined by a method I am not yet privy to, but aim to learn.

Await further missives.

Have drawn suspicion from Florin, Harrach subject, smithy.

Advise capture or slay when next seen. Balding, black beard sheared, stout of posture but walks hunched.

Next raid Lord Cardoso’s livestock. A rat supposed to open the way, but no violence planned.

My Honorable Lord.

I beg of you to accept my apologies for the tone of my previous missive.

Being under scrutiny, I had to be brief and omit the proper language expected by your lordship.

Allowed to write the current missive in comfort. Resting after thwarted raid.

Florin dead of putrefaction from arrow wound - my compliments to Lord Harrach’s archers.

Group is currently hiding within the Capillaries. Advise restraint in retaliation, reasoning as follows:

Helped escape wounded lad by name of Antek from under Lord Harrach’s outriders, impressing others.

I implore your lordship and allies to grant time until my next missive. Will attempt to garner authority before a larger meeting of the groups, supposed to take place within the month.

With luck, I may be able to deliver your lordships more than just foot soldiers.

My Honorable Lord.

My sincere thanks for your generous and wise decision to abstain from violence against the bandits.

I realize the recent attacks have been a nuisance, but my plan is bearing fruit.

My contribution to the raids was noted (my apologies to the guard at Viscount Cardoso’s estate, I pray his knee heals well), and my reputation among the group is now well established.

I have been informed that the chapter has been noted by a certain Sparrow.

Unsure as of yet if this is a nom-de-guerre or a title, but have heard it often lately.

Tomorrow we are to join a meeting which addresses the current make-up of the group and its priorities.

I will send another missive as soon as I am able to do so in less plentiful company.

My Lord.

Apologies for such a long pause in my missives, but I have hardly had the opportunity to write.

New additions to the group include a scribe and an escaped nun, I would rather not take unnecessary risks, as both are ardently devoted to the cause.

Meeting with Sparrow was akin to a rowdy commoner’s moot, with ale, food, and merriment aplenty - a treat for my chapter at least, as we were struggling with supplies in recent weeks.

Did not manage to get a closer look at Sparrow, but heard her speak - a woman of strong build, perhaps a mason or otherwise a physical worker, with a loud voice and much of a following within the ranks.

Many issues raised, among them supposed attention paid to the Flock - a moniker now also adopted by my compatriots - by the Blackguards, broad goals for the coming months, many harsh comments on life in the tunnels.

Heard many stories, most find many listeners nodding their heads in agreement.

Surprised by the group’s steadfastness, despite coming from many backgrounds and speaking different tongues. Their spirit will be hard to subdue anew.

Shall write again soon, details of new targets are expected to come down from Sparrow within the next few days.

My Lord.

I hope this message reaches you swiftly.

The next planned attack targets your Lordship’s estate with the goal of procuring valuables from their storage at the Stout Holds.

I have offered that due to some of the goods held there being connected to Falx’s project, there is a risk of Blackguard retribution, but to no avail - Sparrow seems to have reassured all involved that the raid will focus on precision so that doesn’t happen.

Myself and Antek have been chosen to spearpoint the raid. My Lordship, I once again humbly request your restraint - the raid needs to achieve at least partial success, as all involved are said to expect an audience with Sparrow.

This is my chance to speak to her alone, and relay all I learn to your Lordship and allies.

Myself and Antek will wear red scarves around our heads - I am fairly certain that no one else shall use such a distinctive piece of garb.

I entreat your Lordship to instruct the guards to let us two roam unchallenged, and I pledge to only take as much as is deemed necessary to impress the group and Sparrow.

I write to you distraught and disconcerted.

Antek is dead, the young lad stabbed through the throat, giving his last breath in the interest of the cause.

My cause.

Have I not made it clear we would be distinctly dressed? Have I not made clear my wish that the boy be unharmed?

The letter I passed has been read, I know this as one of the guards, seeing me approaching, laid down his arms and pointed me to the meager trove set aside for me to slip away with.

Why then, pray, has this same approach not been extended to Antek just moments before?

My Lord, I realize the tone of this letter may be inappropriate, you should however know my disappointment.

The lad had promise and was crucial for building my good standing among the Flock. I am now bereft of not just a compatriot, but a valuable asset.

I have been invited to meet Sparrow. Expect my next missive soon after.

Sparrow knows, has seen through my ploy, I am certain.

Writing in haste, being watched.

Next attack baron Tassi’s weekly convoy. Sparrow leads.

Plan to surrender to guards, red sash across tunic. Capture and deliver to your Lordships for details on Flock and Sparrow.

To whoever reads this.

Should’ve seen your guards’ stupid gobs when Emric or whatever his name really was fell over with a bolt through his head.

Bastard thought he was so smart, but not smart enough to cover his tracks. The one who forwarded his messages to you has been warned. For her sake, let this be the last one she delivers.

You must think of us as simpletons who can’t recognize a double-crossing rat when they see one. If there are more, I will know. And when I do, a quick execution will be the best they can count on.

We are not cruel, but can be if that is the only thing you lords understand.

How many of your people have we killed over the last months? A handful, perhaps, accidents happen.

More of your servants, subjects, even guards, have joined our ranks when they understood the truth.

We do not need you. There are no fields to till in this darkness, no castles to impress from a distance, no authority you hold that cannot be challenged.

Why would we serve those who have naught to offer but endless toil and the expectation to have their boots licked?

The Flock offers every man and woman a way to take their lives in their own hands. If they serve, then only because they wish to, not because they are forced to. In all of us, though we come from disparate places and are not all peasants nor burghers nor soldiers, this universal truth we understand well: our fate is our own to forge. And we do not need approval, from God Almighty perhaps, but not from the likes of you.

When we establish ourselves and make ourselves known to all, we shall perhaps approach you to deal as equals.

Until then, do not cross us, or it might be you lying on the ground with a bolt in your skull.