Overview - Enlisting - Crime - History

Overview

Based in the city of Arinock, Vermillion is a self-sufficient organization of soldiers that exists by the will of the people to maintain order throughout the land by enforcing the laws of Rhia. Its functions include accepting reports of criminal activity, investigation of such reports, judgment and sentencing of the guilty, and execution of sentences on behalf of the citizens. Vermillion is currently headed by High Marshal Casalo Muristang and Liaison Percivale Kolmin.

Enlisting in Vermillion

Because criminals will never cease to disrupt the lives of the citizens who Vermillion serves, new officers and investigators are always in need.

Candidates must meet the following requirements: - Be of sufficient training, both in skill and tactics, to defend oneself - Show respect for oneself, the citizens, and the law - Be of sound character and possess solid judgment Those who wish to enter the enforcement arm of Vermillion will also have to be able to show sufficient ability to carry out sentences on criminals and punish the enemies of the people.

To officially enlist, one must send a statement of purpose to Vermillion which includes a brief account of one's personal history (lest one is already posted for all to read) and the position to which the applicant is applying, whether it be officer or justice. Once processed, a member of Vermillion will proceed with the appropriate testing.

See also: help Laws, Vermillion Code, Criminal Policy, Vermillion Ranks, help guildrp

Reporting Crime

For more information, please read Vermillion Law.

The History of Vermillion

Kimball

A small draconian was often seen hunting in the woods. Hunting for his father, ready to pounce and attack. The father, knowing that he taught his son well, was keeping well hidden and far enough ahead of the boy to assure he would not be caught. The father, thinking all was well, came upon a path. A path containing a very young draconian, who leaped at him, taking him at the knees and driving him to the ground. A small silvery knife came to the fathers throat and the boy above him grinned. "I win again dad!"

Such was the ways of Kimball's childhood. To be a warrior like his father. To be strong and proud of who he was. That's what Kimball strived for. Years and years of training, practicing, sparring, and self discipline brought him that much closer to succeeding. His father, a sword wielding ex-mercenary raised the young Kimball alone. His mother dying at birth, did not leave the young boy without enough love, for his father loved him enough for an army of men, and his son returned it tenfold.

Kimball was a little more openminded than his father, and soon learned the ways of many different weapons. In fact, it seemed the more weapons he learned, the faster he picked up on a new one. His father was very impressed, and a little jealous of the young chap, whom he soon called the little Edge Master.

The boy, Kimball, was now reaching the age of adulthood by human standards, and coming back from one of his hunting trips. He and his father were chatting quietly as they returned to their home, giving each other pointers, when there was a sharp cry from behind them. As they both turned in unison, they were rushed from the sides by a group of men in dark, bedraggled armor. Common rogues. With their weapons ready they fell on the boy and his father, whom quickly drew weapons and engaged.

Kimball and his father were soon seperated by the dozen or so ruffians, and they fought their own battles. Both were fairing quite well considering the odds. A tough looking man with a club came at Kimball when the young man heard the cry. He heard his father scream out in anguish. The boy knew a death cry when he heard it, and fearfully glanced toward the sound. That's when the club caught him in the head, and he pitched forward into sudden blackness.

When he awoke, he was stripped of armor and weapons, and the little gold he had with him. His father, likewise stripped of armor, was lying a few feet away in a pool of his own blood. He quickly ran to his dad, and looked down at the face that stared at him sightlessly. The young man, stared back at the man he loved more than anything else in the world, and silently wept. His tears falling around him, dampening the earth and mixing with his fathers blood.

The boy returned to his home, and sat in his fathers favorite chair. Emotionally empty and with a reeling headache he thought of plans of revenge. The foulest of all crimes had been committed, his father had been murdered, and Kimball vowed to see Justice done.

As the boy gathered what few weapons he had, he headed from his house toward the nearest town. Along his way he was stopped by a strange man whom neither asked, nor gave introductions. But he knew whom the young boy was nonetheless.

There are others like you, Kimball. Those that would give their lives to right the wrongs done to innocent men. I've taken interest in you, and I can see the driving force behind you. Go, find these men and women and lead them to a new age. Lead them to a glorious beginning of justice in these times of the lawless. The gods will watch over you."

As the boy started to ask a dozen questions, the figure faded, and Kimball was left alone. He left the place, and entered the city. Seeking men and women to clean up the lands. There were other groups that joined his, all seeking the same thing he sought. They called themselves Vermillion. And nothing would stand between them and the justice they strove to preserve.

Vermillion

Keeping well ahead of the main party, the scout was the first to see the bedraggled woman, fleeing in terror from a burning town. The scout moved to the side of the path, melting with the path as the woman tore by him. He whistled the call of a robin thrice, warning the oncoming party of someone coming their way. As he was about to step back on the path, a man in a blue shirt with a skull embroidered on it's front came busting onto the path, blood soaking his wicked sword. He saw the scout out of the corner of his eye, and without missing a step, drove toward the scout, his sword raised. The scout reacted quickly, as was his training, standing on one foot, jumping and driving his foot into the attacking man's face, falling him flat. Adjusting his knuckles, he drove a fist into the man's temple, knocking him unconious. Shaking his head slowly, he raised his head, giving the call of the crow, warning the party to get hidden quickly, as he ran toward them.

Kimball watched as the scout ran toward his party, hissing lowly so as not to be passed by. The scout came to Kimball, asking for his assistance. Kimball and the scout soon left, only to return a few moments later with an unconcious man in their care.

What's going on, Dorden? Kimball asked the scout quietly as they quietly moved off the path, into the foliage. "And gag this man, don't need someone coming up and have him groan or something foolish."

Dorden nodded and went about the gagging, explaining what he saw as he worked. When he was finished, Kimball raised a hand, calling forth all men to listen. "The woman has said her town is being attacked, and this man here. Kimball stated, kicking the unconcious form at his feet, has seen fit to attack one of us. The city is at siege, and we will step in and stop them, "Let Justice Reign."

As he finished those words, a dozen men stood quietly, weapons drawn, and followed their leader into the town. The men were ready for battle, and entered the city. The first thing Kimball noticed was a man, dead at his feet, with a skull shirt on. "Looks like a proffesional kill here, the townspeople must be skilled." So saying, he set further into town. They quickly walked on, encountering more dead skull-guys. Kimball counted at least 20 as they reached the center square. There they saw a party of six men, cornering a skull-guy, asking him questions.

Kimball looked at his followers, and said, "Well, the lady said the skull- guys were attacking, but it seems they had another adversary." So saying, he turned back to the party surrounding skull-thug, and shouted, "Who are you that slay these heathens?" A tall man turned his head toward Kimball, raising his eyebrow and hollered back, "We are merely a band of people righting wrongs. Do you come to try us, fellow?" Kimball shook his head and stated loudly, "Just seems you beat us here good sir." As he smiled a sharp toothed smile. Kimball motioned his men to stand back, and approached the tall figure. The two eyed each other, before Kimball spoke, "We try to bring Justice to the world, turn good to what was once bad." He smiled again as he said this, offering his hand to the tall man. "Call me Kimball, good sir." The tall man encompassed Kimball's reptilian hand in his, replying "A noble cause, and one readily followed by myself. Call me Sulthon. As the two shook hands, Kimball's party approached, and made small talk with Sulthon's band.

Sulthon, Kimball and their followers were walking down a trail toward another town. Kimball was speaking of his meeting with a strange man when Sulthon piped up, informing Kimball he had met the same man. The two nodded in unison, knowing they would make an excellent team. Suddenly, Dorden was coming back, to the group, speaking of a man ahead, whom spoke only of wishing to speak to Kimball and Sulthon. Dorden, not thinking they were known enough to have common folks asking for their leaders, thought it wise to inform the two. Kimball and Sulthon asked the group to wait there as they went to see the man.

Unto Immortality

"Kimball, Sulthon, so glad you could make it," the figure chuckled as they approached.

"You again..." Kimball stated as they got closer. The old man smiled and looked them over.

"You have done well Vermillion. Very well indeed. As a matter of fact, you've done well enough to draw the gods attention. You are wanted with them. To guide your members in an immortal state. Do you accept?"

Boggled by the suddeness of it, they both thought for a moment before agreeing. The man told them to tell their followers, and report back. Soon, Kimball and Sulthon descended through the skies, receiving their immortal state. Vermillion would carry strong. For eternity.

Vexius the Just

Vexius, Kimball's Second, Immortal of Vermillion has been called many things in many lands. The true paradox of his existence is that he has forgotten much of what transpired in these other realms, though others have not. But, as we're working on a deadline, let us focus only on what has transpired since Vexius arrived in the realms in and about Arinock.

Vexius was appointed as Kimball's second during a time when chaos seemed to have overtaken the lands. People were being killed and maimed in the streets of Arinock on a daily basis for little or no reason. Vermillion morale was low, as was attendance. Because of this, Vexius implemented a new policy. He drafted as many people as possible into Vermillion... skilled warriors and cannon fodder alike. Those who were skilled were instructed to train the green recruits as quickly as possible. With only rudimentary training, these recruits were put at the forefront of the battle against crime and thrown, wave after wave, at the criminal forces. Many died in the battles that ensued, including most of the recruits. Some of those in Vermillion who could not handle the tremendous mental strain of these battles went insane. They went on rampages, killing innocent citizens before beinhelp vermchap4g cut down but their former brothers in arms.

Eventually though, Vermillion emerged victorious. What had once been a blunt hammer of many raw recruits had been honed to a fine edge. The majority of the criminals raising havoc in Arinock had been slain or driven from the realms. The officers who survived intact and sane took up the job of maintaining the peace, and have done so with extreme effectiveness. To manage the small amount of crime still present on our streets, Vexius appointed Zam as Mortal Leader of Vermillion...a decision he has never regretted.

Order, Honor, and Justice

ON ORDER...

(From the writings of Casalo Muristang)

Innumerable tales of personal misfortune and grave offences fill the bookshelves of the libraries of Rhia; horrible accounts of parents, wives, families, and entire villages being mercilessly destroyed at the hands of bandits, burglars, and rogue armies seem almost prolific as the adventurers of whom stories are often told. Perhaps it is true that such great disturbances are the catalyst which turn ordinary farmers into the great heroes of our time, and these are the people who effect change in the realm by building empires and conquering foreign lands. One must ask himself, though, has not the river of time been repeating? Like a pup chasing its tail, have the actions of these heroes and villains truly changed the future of anything?

Order is what gives true structure and stability to people, cities, and empires, and it is only through the establishment and enforcement of law to maintain this order that true peace can be realized. Take for example the story of the Romany people - when called to arms by the highest general of their lands, the Lord General Threbach, the Romany chose dissent, rebellion, and chaos over obedience structure. The subsequent destruction of the Romany people and the persecution of their kind ever since are a true testament to the products of such cavalier disregard for order and hierarchy. What was gained from such lawlessness? Even after the murder of General Threbach years ago at the hands of vengeful gypsies, are their people any better off? Would as much have been lost if their ancestors had simply followed the order of the high authority of the land?

Unlikely, as the path of order most often leads to the best result. Order is what turns a group of people into a society, and society is what separates us from the feral beasts of Rhia. The laws of the land have been established by those wiser than the populace in an attempt to preserve the peace offered by order, and it is the duty of Vermillion to defend the lawful majority from the chaotic few who would wish to destabilize the land of Rhia and send it into anarchic self-destruction. Vermillion brings peace through order. Vermillion brings order through law.

ON HONOR AND GLORY...

(From the writings of Casalo Muristang)

The concept of honor and the glorious battle is an ideal that many people and groups continually strive for; the hunters, lawmen, knights, and even assassins have all embraced, in some form or another, guidelines by which they conduct themselves both in and out of combat to achieve the greatest honor possible from every action. These self-imposed restrictions have bearing on every action regardless of how inconsequential they may be and have often cost victory at war. Thus, it is very easy to question the purpose of honor; after all, what use is honor if the battle is lost?

Perhaps it is of use to challenge the opposite point of view. What permanence do victories in battle have without honor? In the scope of lifetimes, kingdoms rise and fall quickly, and victories in battle are forgotten with almost every new engagement. What is not forgotten, though, is the valor with which an army fought and the honor its men achieved in glorious battle. Such honor echoes through the annals of history and is remembered by tacticians, historians, and ancestors of countless generations, transcending the rise and fall of armies, kingdoms, and civilizations. Rhia's heroes were all born of honor, not of victory.

This is not to say that honor can only be attained by sword and fire. No man is born a soldier, and those who would devote their lives to the instruction which forges men of honor have themselves earned great honor. There is honor to be had in many similar deeds; those who would create the implements of glorious battle, plan formations and tactics, or nurse those who fall in glorious battle all attain some amount of honor from their actions. In fact, there is honor to be gained from any possible action; whether or not the choice which would bring the greatest honor is chosen differentiates men of honor from those who are fated to drown in the river of time.

ON JUSTICE...

(From the writings of Casalo Muristang)

While countless soldiers throughout history have gone to war in the name of justice, this notion of justice is a dangerous rallying cry because of the inherently relative nature of the idea. For example, the idea of justice is often inappropriately attached to the punishment of criminals and doing what is in the best interests of the people in the context of maintaining order within a prefecture or district. This has caused a considerable amount of ambiguity with "law" and "justice," and the truth of the matter is that justice can often work against maintaining peace through law. Consider the following account.

          "The cobbler Bharsten was going through hard times with
          the recent passing of his wife.  With three children to
          care for and a home to maintain, his business suffered 
          from neglect and his income was no longer sufficient to
          buy the necessary food and supplies for his family.  Many
          citizens offered their charity when they could, but the
          town baker, a wealthy man by the name of Baltar,
          refused to offer even leftover scraps at the day's end.
          While Bharsten had never resented Baltar for it, he was
          driven by desperation to sneak into Baltar's bakery and 
          pilfer a loaf of bread to feed his family on one 
          particularly cold night. "

If left to be guided by justice, the crime committed by Bharsten would be very difficult to judge. While taking bread from the wealthy baker was against the law, would there be justice in jailing a man for trying to feed his family? Was there justice in Baltar refusing to help a man struck by great misfortune? Justice is also a very subjective idea, and perspective may put this notion of right and wrong on end. Consider the same story from the perspective of Baltar.

          "Having served as an apprentice to a master baker for
          most of his childhood, Baltar managed to leave his
          humble upbringings of a farmer's son behind and become
          a master of baking himself.  Having established a very
          successful bakery in town, he enjoyed a comfortable
          life serving the finest goods to the adventurers of the
          outlying areas; however, a beggar by the name of
          Bharsten had recently been shambling in during business
          hours, begging for food and chasing customers away.

          While the citizens of the town did their best to help
          the beggar get back on his feet, Baltar had no
          sympathy for those who weren't willing to work their
          way to success as he had and refused to give in to the
          beggar's requests for food.  A few days after asking
          Bharsten to stay out of his shop, he found that the
          beggar had broken in at night and stolen some of his
          baked goods. "

Is Bharsten still so deserving of lenience? With this account of the story, would there be justice in NOT jailing a man who thought little of stealing from a man who earned every bit of his wealth through years of training and persistence? Both accounts of the events speak of facts, and yet finding a punishment that is truly "just" in such a case would be entirely impossible. Such are the dangerous of acting in the name of justice - sould the law ever be guided by such an ambiguous notion of doing what is in the best interests of justice, the lands would surely fall into a state of anarchy.

The law exists by the will of the people to preserve peace and order. It follows that there is little place for justice in law; only when law is governed by the desire for peace and order does it truly serve the interests of the citizens best. While there may be coincidence between what law demands and what justice demands, one should always be mindful of the true nature of the battle and its motivators. War in the name of justice is open to interpretation, but battle in the name of order and the people is fact. Justice is relative. Order and law are absolute.