The North PacificBoard

"as west Ireland and their crown grows fat off our nectar we grow weak and wither away. Let us break free of the 5 kingdoms away from the boot of white hall and make east ireland a true free land" - the red baron 1635 at the start of the great civil war.
Despite the fail rebellion in 2019 the Irish independence movement was still a force especially in the more rural parts of the islands of the east Irish kingdom. with much of their funding cut off the rebels turned to crime to get the funding they need to "free" their home land and ensure their communist take over. One of these towns that fell under their oppressive rule was the town of Kerry of only 400 farmers the few stores they had either where burnt down or forced to give a massive share of their income to the rebels. To make matter worse after the start of the Itallitopia Canineia war the government attention was turned away from the rebels towards the war in those months the rebel movement expanded rapidly soon every farmer in Kerry was force to submit to the protection racket expect the old man who lived upon the hill. At first the rebels did not care he was an old man who last living family was a grandson who went missing in the Yemet mysore war part of engineer company that got wiped out by a yemet artillery the rebels laugh at that, any story about British soldiers dying like the pigs they where pleased their souls.
Yet quiet whispers between farmers in the town pub the Hanged Goose suggested that if the old man could resist the red's boot then why not others in the town? that idea, that flicker of hope had to be stomped out so the local leader of the rebels sent the most junior member to get the tribute from the old man. it would be simple after all yet their something about that old man, a fire that burnt deep inside when the junior asked "will you pay the toll?" the old man who lived upon the hill laughed and replied "i have nothing to give then a cup of tea with 2 sugars." the junior knew that this old man wasn't a newcomer he had been in this town for longer then he remembered and that he had seen the rise of the rebels and new their probably better then him so he returned to the rebel leader with the old man answer.
The leader simply shoved the junior recruit to the floor and sent his best man Red handed to collect the toll, Red handed marched up the hill and knocked on the door, the old man who lived upon the hill open the door leaning on his cane and asked "ah young man what brings you here?" Red handed sneered the scar tissue over his right hand shifted making him wince in pain from the old wound. This help to increase his rage "You haven't payed your toll and if you don't they will be trouble you hear?" The old man simply laughed "all I have is a cup of lukewarm tea" Red handed seem offended by that remark "oh and where's the sugar?" the old man resting on his cane did not remember offering sugar so paused, no he had, he remember offering three yet... "i have no sugar for men like you." and with that he shut the door. Red handed knocked and knocked with such rage and intensity he seem to be trying to bring down the whole house yet the man didn't answer. He tried to peer in few the windows but his sight was blocked by curtains he returned to the rebel leader with the bad news. An example had to be made and as the junior pleaded to just leave him alone that the old man upon the hill had lost so much even his mind the leader responded "he still has one more thing to lose grab the fuel cans and a lighter we will teach him and this town of loyalists a lesson they shall never forget." he was right of course just not in the way he expected.

The Old man stood in his second floor window, he had been their for a while waiting the silence only broken by his coughs as purple spots appeared under his skin across his face, his hands wrinkled and old clutched his cane the carvings upon it where names in a runic writing, each name linked to a soul that had departed expect one. The old man upon the hill was not ready to die but he knew who was to old to run any more and the last of his strength to fight had gone when his grandson fell and to make matters worse he could feel the sickness of his mind spread he had forgotten so much and lost so many but now he would stand and join the others. Yet he do something that they refused he reached for an old knife its blade twisted and warped by flame he carved one last word into his cane as he finished the rebels came marching up the hill. Their leader spoke asking a tone more fitting of friend "why dont you come down and give me a cup of tea old man!" the old man spoke as he felt a dark presence gather over his mind "I have none to give I through it out as it had grown cold." The leader laughed "come on we both know that you will pay up for if you dont..." the leader beckoned his men forward with their black fuel cans "I shall see to it that you join your grandson. Isnt a little coin worth your life?" the old man went to speak yet he felt his mind slip from his grasp once more as the haze of confusion paralyzed him. The leader waited for a response when none was given he directed his men to start pouring the gas. The old man upon on the hill was no longer in this world around him he could see their faces his family his friends all reduced to ash by monsters. It didn't matter who burnt them all away or why he ran back then to protect his orphaned grandson but with out him he had no reason to run he smiled yet as the flames began to whip around him he did not remember why he felt happy maybe it was because he was going to meet someone he hadn't seen in so long? "yes" he said as it became hard to breath as the warmth coiled around him "its time to leave" the voice was a half remembered one he turned to see a angel standing in the flames. The old man let go of his cane the names of his family left to be confused by the flame as he reached out and grabbed the angel hand. "where shall I go?" he asked scared of what came next "to a safe place, with out fire, with out pain of loss and one where you will never be confused again." the old man laughed loud enough with his dying breath for what felt like to him for the whole world to hear "what a land of paradise." and with that the old man was no more.
Once fires died down they where shocked to find not a single bone, their was naught but ash and single piece of wood that had seem to be untouched by the flame on it was runes ones the rebels could not understand they keep it either the leader took a liking to it, it made him seem stronger and its sturdy nature made it a great club to knock sense it that junior recruit he was going on about how it was some form of old curse he learnt about school used by the in the leader words "dead tribe of the southern mountains of that colony of British filth recently stole from the natives. what a load of lies they aint no such thing as spirts or curses or higher powers." he scoffed "the only power comes from the end of a barrel."