[PRP][PLOT] Strategy and Scotch(Kilot-Rais)

[Doof]

What exactly had led Kilot to Mojo's bar that day? He himself had a hard time remembering. Somehow, it had come to the Chieftain himself arranging a meeting to discuss some very important business.

This time, given the seriousness of the topics they were going to meet about, Kilot had not partaken of Mojo's stocks.
Much.
Maybe just a little.
Before him was a small tumbler of some sort of (delicious) scotch, and next to that, some very messy scribblings on ragged sheets of papyrus, with no discernible order to its contents and entire lines crossed out and surrounded by annotations, lightly smudged, all written by a heavy hand unsuited to penwork.

Leaning against the side of the heavy table was a huge shield, rectangular in shape, slightly convex and made entirely out of Laisidhiel-wood. Upon its face was shaped or carved heraldry from a house or clan long lost to the passage of time. The shield in its original condition would have been quite polished and ornate, but when Kilot found it in the dusty, unused armory it was gouged, scratched and pitted, although still firm and strong. Alongside it was a classic Faun one-handed warhammer, similar to the weapon of choice used by many of the guards, although this, like the shield, had been dug up from the bowels of the old armory. It was also crafted of Laisidhiel-wood and had clearly seen extensive use.

Kilot had spent many seasons hunting game in the lands around the great tree, and had the fortunes been kinder the next hunt would have been the only serious thing occupying his mind. It was only when terror came to Laisidhiel herself, and talk of an enemy gathering its strength began circulating that the normally lackadasical faun turned his attention to matters of arms. Thus far, small, isolated encounters between individuals had turned violent. There hadn't been battles or even skirmishes, but tensions were higher than any of them had experienced in their lifetimes. Or this lifetime, in the case of a select few. If anything ever came to blows- real ones- then it was plain to see that the defenses of the Tree, indeed all Faun lands and settlements, were woefully underprepared.

The big, burly hunter shifted uncomfortably in his seat, despite it being a rather comfortable chair. Hidden away back in a private room in the back corner of the establishment, he had arrived mid-morning even though he was to meet the Chieftain for lunch. It wouldn't do at all to be late for that kind of company. Thus, he'd been waiting for quite some time.

And he was starting to get hungry.  

[Teigra]

Having finished his morning round of appointments, the Chieftain was making his way towards Mojo's for the next in line. If it wasn't one meeting it was another. At least this one would have food available. And wouldn't be exactly on the same level of the last long discussion he'd just officiated on whether they needed to cycle the crops from carrots to tomatoes or cabbage in the northern plots this year. Though the intended topic would be anything but light, Rais hoped that the meeting would be fairly productive.

The murmurs of conversation in the bar at this time of day were fairly muted, missing the raucous undertones that would return later in the evening. It would be hard to miss the Chief's entrance and it was only a moment before a young fauness hurried over to inform him that they had set aside one of the back rooms for him and the hunter to use. She led the way with a light step, then paused at the door to ask if they needed anything else for now as the Chief acknowledged Kilot with a nod. Rais turned to her with a smile. "Yes, we could use a couple of bowls of that Hunter's Stew special. A pitcher of water. And..." He paused, that had been the original plan, but after a moment's consideration, he added, "If there's any left, two mugs of that spring season brew? The one with the wheat and citrus flavor?" This meeting would deal with some pretty heavy subject matter. He wasn't looking to get either of them plastered, but a drink might help ease the tension to come from the conversation.

The hostess nodded enthusiastically and bound off to turn in the order and Rais moved to take the seat opposite Kilot. He only belatedly noticed the tumbler in front of the hunter. Ah well. Maybe he should have asked what he was drinking instead. "Hope you don't mind," he stated in a congenial manner. "I figured since we're meeting here, we may as well have lunch at the same time." He'd taken in the scattered bits of papyrus and the tension in the hunter's posture. Attempting to lighten the moment with some humor and put the hunter more at ease, he added in what he hoped was an obvious joking tone, "Unless you prefer to order on the first date. If so, I apologize."

Doof

 

[Doof]

Teigra

Kilot visibly relaxed, a half-laugh, half-exhale escaping him at the Chieftain's quip. "No, Lord Chieftain, I don't mind at all. Orders and giving them is your sort of thing."

With a chuckle, the red-brown faun hunter sat back down and deftly moved some of the papyrus to the edge of the table to make room for the stew the chieftain had ordered. He privately wondered whether or not it would have been game he'd hunted himself; once upon a time there would have been a decent chance it would have been the case, but with more hunters ranging wider and farther to support a growing Faun population, this meat was likely brought in by one of the many other hunting parties that now journeyed across the Faun-controlled Green Lands.

Something he would be bringing up before too long.

"I suppose we should start talking about all this," He gestured at his notes and the armaments- "But I've been wondering-" Kilot tossed the last of that tumbler of scotch down his throat and licked his lips. "Did you ever get around to honoring that date with those lovely winged ladies?"

A movement from behind the chieftain caught Kilot's eye. It was the hostess, skillfully balancing two rather large, steaming bowls, a jug, two glasses and two large mugs on a thick, circular tray. The hunter was already salivating as she laid the stew on the table; since mid-morning the scent of cooking meat and herbs had been wafting through Mojo's establishment and it had been mighty difficult to ignore.
"There you go, dearie." She said warmly to Kilot, before her ears perked up as though she'd remembered something. She spun on her hoof and bowed fluidly before Rais. "My Lord Chieftain." She addressed the Faun leader with a cheer that almost subverted the formality of her using the honorific to address him. She swept out of the room, out of sight as quickly as she'd come. It wasn't even a few seconds before she could be heard calling out to another table, assuring them she'd be right over.

"Wonderful girl." Kilot mused. He'd tried countless pickup lines on that one. Never more than a sarcastic or funny remark in return.

With that, the very hungry hunter pulled his bowl closer and put a spoon to the stew. He needed to at least get something solid in his stomach before they started. There was something to the meat- there were traces of a minty flavour might have been picked up by the animal, rather than added as an herb during cooking. Outside of what Laisidhiel provided, mint wasn't common until one had travelled almost halfway to Dragnid Forest. The fringes of Faun lands, or even slightly beyond that. Kilot sighed. Here we go

"Well then. Let's get down to business."  

[Teigra]

"As a matter of fact, yes, I did," Rais answered the hunter's inquiry, but the arrival of the food interrupted before the Chieftain's love life could become the new topic of conversation. That wasn't what they were here for, after all. However, the scent of delicious stew wafting through the air made the Chieftain consider that he could be distracted from more serious matters for a bit longer. Heh.

Quietly amused by the contrast between the overly formal title and the waitress' bubbly behavior, Rais settled for a gracious nod of appreciation before she practically bounced away from the table. Picking up on Kilot's musing, Rais chuckled in agreement. "Indeed, she is." She was always so eager to please, so polite, with a smile for everyone. Of course, beyond that, the Chief had no other interactions to draw upon. Ah well. The call of the stew was hard to ignore for long and for the first few spoonfuls, neither of them said a word, focused only on getting some of the delicious food into their bellies. Rais didn't mind a break from business, even a short one, so it was Kilot that finally broke the silence.

Ah well, back to work.

Nodding to the papyrus that had been shoved aside for sake of food, Rais noted, "I see you came prepared. I also see that I'm not the only one who's been digging through the old Armory as of late." Approval clear in his tone, he set down his spoon and took a sip from the mug of ale before continuing. "I want to discuss the current state of our military. Or perhaps the lack thereof, as the case may be. The state of our defenses and our offensive capabilities and some ideas I've had for expanding on that."

With a pause, he continued, "I'm sure you're wondering why I'm discussing this with you and not with the other members of the Circle. While it is true that they are my closest advisers, I want an outside opinion on this one. I want the opinion of someone from the field, someone with experience who knows the lands outside, someone with some fresh ideas. I've heard good things from your superiors; you operate well on your own, your squad is well trained, able to function as a unit. And it seems you've already got some ideas of your own. So...let's hear them."

Doof

 

[Doof]

Well here goes nothing.

"Well Chief, there's a lot to discuss, on all those matters." Kilot thought back to the explosion that had so badly mauled the tree not long ago. "When we found ourselves back on the surface, it would have been hard to imagine that we would ever need a standing army. We just had our old stories of the ancient conflict that were so far removed from the angels and demons we started to encounter that it became easy to consider the details of such stories as myth." The hunter slid forward a papyrus poster featuring a roughly-drawn picture of Raken, the demon identified as being responsible for the attack on Laisidhiel, his likeness being drawn from the descriptions given by a couple of Faun who'd actually seen him. "Clearly though, within the ranks of the angels and demons there's a strong element behind the scenes that's definitely not welcoming towards us. Some of the hunters and rangers have observed the pae of the Isle answering calls to unite behind their mysterious 'Guardians'. Given time, this movement could become strong enough to destroy us."

He paused, allowing himself to appreciate a little more meat from the soup."I wanted to break this discussion down into a few parts." The reddish-brown faun raised a hand and began counting off on his fingers. "First- the state of our current combat capabilities. Our ability to fend off attacks on the tree itself, the areas where we gather food and resources, and our ability to project our power and influence beyond that. Second- what information we have on the abilities of our potential adversaries as well as possible motivations and strategies they might employ. Third- Explore any gaps between our capabilities and theirs, making a direct comparison of our abilities and the outcome of a conflict based on our current strength and what we know of theirs. Fourth and finally- What we need to do to overcome any capability gap that presents itself. This includes equipment, tactics and organisation."

Kilot knew that regarding what the isle pae were capable of, there would be a lot of hearsay and guesswork. He himself had very few observations on their military strength, but could speculate on their abilities based on the physical characteristics. As far as numbers or organisation, that was up to what the Chief had been told by the rangers.

With that, the tough hunter slid forth another sheet of papyrus, this time covered in his own scribblings. He pointed to the first figures he'd written at the top of the page as he began to speak. "Just from what we've seen in the seasons since we landed next to the Isle, we already know the most important physical differences between our people and the Isle pae. We're tougher and hardier. We're stronger. We're masters at navigating the forests of these lands. On the other hand, they can almost all of them fly, compared to our few pegasi. And in general, their bodies are better built for flight, being lighter and more agile. I wish I could focus on that since I think the ability to control the sky above any battleground will prove to be important, but I just don't know that much about flying or aerial combat." Kilot hoped he could rope in a pegasus to talk to, or perhaps convince to meet with the Chief on the subject of the disparity the faun suffered in any potential sky battle.

"In terms of ground manpower however, we have several dozen hunting teams ranging from three to ten individuals. This number changes daily so an accurate number is impossible to get, but the important thing is that we have over two hundred faun trained in survival and some basic weapons skills. We could form a militia with this, but really no better than that. Our training's been geared towards stalking and hunting a wild animal. We don't stand ground, we've never been asked to participate in a prolonged or even pitched battle. If it came to blows we could outfight any untrained angel or demon mob, or even an organized posse, but if an actual army came, like in the stories, then we wouldn't be able to do much. Even if we won a small skirmish, the bulk of the enemy force would just fly away before we could snatch a complete victory." The burly faun tapped a finger on the wooden table, while stirring his soup with his other hand. "There's that sky thing again."

Next, he moved on to the guards. "We have a Tree Guard corps good for around sixty to seventy individuals. Their equipment is most suited to a prolonged battle, but their training is not. They're good enough for keeping the peace, chasing down thieves and resolving local disputes but they're neither numerous nor well trained enough to hold a determined enemy formation for long." He took a hold of the huge, heavy shield leaning against the table and faced it towards Rais. "This is the sort of shield that fills the ancient armory. As you well know, they're over twice the size of the shields that the guards are issued. The armour pieces you can find there are similarly heavy and impressive. To my knowledge nobody in the tree has formal training in the use of the heavy weapons and armour down there. Our guards do have some armour, weapons and shields, but with the exception of the hammers, they're all scaled down or lightweight. Simple helmets and breastplates, targes or bucklers, short spears, rather than the full plate, long polearms and tall kite shields we have in storage. Still, what they wear is better for a pitched melee battle than what either us hunters or the rangers have."

That would allow Kilot to segue to the rangers, but truthfully, he didn'thave to say much on them, except the obvious. "The Rangers are the best prepared for a conflict out of our weapons-trained population. Even though their armour is light and they are built around moving unseen and scouting out any enemy, they are organized and well trained at both stealth and traditional combat. They comprise our best archers and can hold their own in hand to hand combat too. Now I don't have their numbers and organisation, but if it's something I'm not entitled to know then I well and truly understand that." He took another mouthful of soup. "They'd be akin to hunters also in the sense that they'd be scattered throughout the lands surrounding the tree at any given time so rallying them in an emergency would take time."

The normally boisterous faun took a moment to pause and order his thoughts. "Now with as many Faun as we have living at the tree it's become necessary to range further and with more hunters to gather the food we need. Farms have begun to appear at the edge of the Isle bordering Laisidhiel. This means we aren't as concentrated at the tree as we used to be, and it's is both a blessing and a curse." He reached for a roll of papyrus at the edge of the table which he unfurled, revealing a map he himself had scribbled together from his hunting expeditions to the edges of the Faun lands and beyond, complete with notes and indicators of where there was good game to be found. "With the land we control beyond the tree, it gives us a buffer that has to be crossed before any prospective attacker would reach the Laisidhiel. At the same time, it vastly increases the area we have to protect because we have farms and hunting grounds, not to mention faun farmers scattered around this area. We have no fortifications or staging areas in these outer lands, aside from a few guard towers around the Bridge, and no established way of communicating or warning of attacks in that whole area. While we could have teams of rangers roaming those lands, without some sort of signal to rally them to meet an attack, our ability to respond to any aggression would be token at best."

That was a whole lot of paraphrasing. The hunter frowned. They were going to have to cover a lot of stuff, and this was barely ever scratching the surface. He assured himself that this was simply a meeting of ideas, to raise topics that could be discussed in more detail later on.

"Let me give you a chance to add some input." Kilot leveled his gaze directly at the Chieftain. "Do you know of any further plans other faun might have settling the lands beyond the Bridge? Are we looking at this undeclared border moving further west at all?" He looked down at the map again, gulping down a bit more soup as he did so. "Do you think we have enough rangers to cover it? After all, like I said, I don't know exactly how many we have. And in the event of the loss of all that fertile land, could we sustain ourselves here with some rationing, or would food run out eventually, given our current population?"