Andrei follows her down. "Thank you Aunt." Should I mention the locket, she seems a little disturbed, might be better to wait. Then dropping his voice for her ears "Anything else you have that could help prove what is rightly mine would help."
"Alas, there is little left." Says Anastasia sadly. "Most of the true treasures were lost long before I was born. I had a few, along with your father, but aside from the picture you hold, all I had was stolen."
The stairs end on a small landing that opens into a good sized cellar. The room smells of damp earth and the musk of the tatzlewyrm along with a mixture of sage, cedar, thyme, and numerous other herbs which hang in bunches tied to roots running across the ceiling.
The old witch makes a quick gesture with her hand causing her orb of light to brighten and float to the ceiling near the center of the room. With the additional light it is easier to see the hidden home. A bed of thick furs and hides in the far corner offers a comfortable place to sleep. The floor is covered with three very worn and tattered rugs of Taldoran design. Makeshift shelves have been roughly carved out of the dirt walls and contain a variety of dried fruits, nuts, and vegetables as well as a handful of other vials and jars. Anastasia sits down in an old rocking chair near a small brazier that vents through a small hole in the roof.
She turns to look at the others in the party, her thoughtful gaze taking in Gorax's broad shoulders, Warren and Stellan with their own animal companions, Imon's disconcerted look at being underground with an alleged murderous witch. Her eyes linger for a moment on Udo and the assorted vials and bottles that hang from his belt. Her concentration is even more intense as she looks at Anwel, whose dark robes make him nearly invisible in the shadowy, underground lair.
"So, what brings such a group of young men, including it seems, my nephew to my door on this day?" She says casually as if the previous few moments where she had threatened to destroy you all never happened.
Warren nods to the elder lady.
"Although young, we can all learn from our elders."
Warren produces his locket. "I too am looking for family. Perhaps you know of this lady?"
The woman takes Warren's locket, bringing it closer to her eyes. Squinting at the small image, she eventually shakes her head. "I've not seen anyone who would match that face." She says, handing the locket back to Warren. "But then I've not been far from this place for many years."
She turns a bit wistful. "There was a time when I might have known most of the people and faces within three days ride of this place. No more." She grimaces. "Not since those filthy, vile creatures and that traitor destroyed everything." She adds with a barely concealed snarl to in her voice.
"To whom do you refer?" says Anwel. He has a sneaking suspicion that she means the trolls and goblinoids who pushed Taldor out of the country on the one hand, and the Erastilite-turned-bear on the other.
Anastasia focuses her gaze on Anwel and says, "I refer to those creatures in the mountains led by that ugly bit of scum, Tartuk."
She sighs heavily and then continues.
"We fled south from New Stetven a few years before the Vanishing. Even then Noleski and that harridan he calls a sister were out to remove any possible threats to their power. Somehow, they had learned of our family secret and we found ourselves running from their thugs. Barely escaping with a few possessions and our lives."
"Viktor, young Andrei's uncle, arranged for us to join a group heading south to settle the untamed lands along the Thorn River. All went well for the first couple of years, but then we started to see more raids and trouble from the goblin and other tribes of the mountains. For a while all was fine. We were able to hold our own. The fortified village had strong walls and plenty of men. We could have held them off for years if it wasn't for that bastard Sorik." She spits at the end of her statement, pure loathing dripping from her demeanor.
"A handsome, charming man with a gift for speech and the power. He was the one who convinced the council, including my Viktor, to mount an attack into the mountains. Drive off the rabble, he said. Instead he led them into a trap. Tartuk and his lot were waiting and nearly all were killed. The fletcher's boy, Gregory managed to escape the ambush, but not before he saw Sorik paying off the old bugbear chief while the goblins feasted and scavenged the bodies."
"With most of our menfolk gone, the rest of the settlers didn't have much chance. Some fled quick enough, but most didn't as the beasts attacked only a day after Gregory brought back the news. Not being in the village, I was able to cast my wards and drive off any of the creatures who threatened my home. I saved a few, but I was one against many and already overcome by grief for my Victor and son, Drey, who had joined his father."
"I killed to defend at first, but then I hunted. Hunted for vengence, hunted for Sorik. I became a very good hunter, but I never found him."
Leaning back, she sighs again and finishes her tale. "Now it is just me and Nix. We still hunt occasionally, but I have grown old and tired, so mostly we just stay hidden and watch the days pass."
"I am sorry if these are painful memories, heri," says Anwel, hopefully masking his thankfulness for Vrag's staying behind with his show of respect. "I only ask because a group of settlers is repeating your attempt near the border of Rostland, and we," he says, looking left and right at the others, "have taken on the task of making the hinterlands safe for them. We have heard of Tartuk and his goblins, of the Stag Lord and his bandits, and of Akiros and his Black Hand, the real power behind the Stag Lord. But Sorik is new to us. Do you think you could imagine what he looks like now, and what powers he might have? I would not like to encounter him unprepared."
Warren nods to the lady and asks:
"So you do not feel that this Tartuk is worth reasoning and negotiating with? We were headed to do that very thing. You may have saved us some grief. Any help to defeat Tartuk would be appreciated."
Andrei curses himself silently. His Aunt has revealed more about his family than he was comfortable with. Hopeful he didn't have a Doris in his friends who would sell him out.
"It might be he is the stag lord. If I get the opportunity I swear to avenge my Uncle and cousin for you." He says somberly, fully aware of what that might mean
The old woman raises an eyebrow as Anwel explains the parties current task and goals.
"A...noble...cause indeed." She says with hesitation. "I honestly hope that your efforts bare much better fruit than ours."
She grabs a small kettle, sets in on the brazier and with a flick of her hand flames ignite the tinder and start the water warming.
"As for what Sorik looks like now. I've little idea. He was handsome by most accounts, and had a silver tongue that could charm the hide off a dragon." She picks a few leaves from various bunches of herbs and drops them into the kettle while she continues. "I always sensed a darkness about him. I'm almost positive he dabbled in necromancy, although, I never had any actual proof."
Her fists clench around her cane when Warren mentions negotiating with Tartuk and her voice again grows fierce. "I'd not waste breath, talking to that beast. The only way to negotiate with him and his kind is to strip their filthy hides for wagon covers."
Finally, she nods her head in grim affirmation at Andrei's statement. "You've the blood of your father, that is sure. If you do find that son of a sea hag, don't believe a word he says, just strike him down."
The kettle starts to rattle slightly as the water warms. "Now who wants tea?" She says, the previous hatred in her eyes fading and replaced by a much more grandmotherly look.
"I will and thank you tea sounds lovely." Andrei says also relaxing "You mentioned you might have something of use in proving my descent?"
"Tea, yes thank you."
Anwel tucks back his hair, the better to listen to Anastasia's description of Sorik. It does not sound like anyone they have met so far. Though it is barely possible that Sorik had become Rassada's guardian bear, Anwel is pretty sure Anastasia would have mentioned it if he had been a priest. Nor does he, as a necromancer, sound like one of the illusionists Anwel had been sent here to suborn. Another possibility occurs to him, however. Akiros, would need to know necromancy to create hands of the unwavering faith, Kressle had described him as a charismatic speaker and a manipulative deceiver, and on top of everything else, his name is a near-perfect anagram of Sorik. The more Anwel thinks about it, the more he likes the theory that they are one and the same, but he knows it is far from proved. He resolves, next time he sees them, to ask Tams and Kressle whether they can describe Akiros.
"Alright, heri," he says lightly at the offer of tea, taking the cup in both hands and letting it warm his palms. He waits to drink, however, until Anastasia takes a sip. It is only polite.
Anastasia offers each of you a simple clay cup of tea. The brew is a mix of dried lavender, chamomile, and lemon grass with just a bit of honey to sweeten it and offers a warm, relaxing feel. She sips quietly with her eyes closed for a minute or so before answering Andrei.
"Well, as I said, everything I once had was lost with Sorik's betrayal. Your uncle used to have a signet ring. It was the true House signet, magicked so the diamond would glow a icy blue when worn by one with the family blood. Unfortunately, it was lost with your uncle in the ambush. Who knows where it is now, in some goblins cave or with Sorik, or in the belly of some Tatzlewyrm." She shrugs and adds with what seems to be genuine regret. "I'm afraid that's all I can offer you now."
Getting up from her chair she takes down two clay vials, "I can offer you a bit of something to aid you in your endeavors." She hands the vials to Andrei. Each one is marked with a small glyph on the outside. "These will provide healing and physical strength for a short period if you find the need."
"Thank you, I'll do what I can to recover the ring and slay this Sorik or Akiros." Taking the viles he looks at them carefully. "Thank you so much, are you sure you won't need them? I have this in return" he says holding out the locket they found earlier in the stream. "We found in the stream, I assume it is your's"
"Would you like to return with us? Settler's have just started to build a town."
She reaches out a weathered hand and takes the locket from Andrei. After gazing at it for a few seconds, she smiles and hands the locket back. "You keep it she." She says. "I've no need of it at this point in my life. It only brings up...painful memories."
She settles back into her chair and the big tatzlewyrm slides up to rest at her side. Absently she reaches out and scratches the creature at the base of its head. "As for your offer to return, I think I would rather not. I'm actually quite comfortable here and this serves my purposes well." She gives her familiar another gentle rub and adds with a sly grin. "Besides I don't think my friend here would be too welcome among most of your new settlers."
Andrei nods, "Would you like me to pass a message onto my father? I think he believes you died, probably with the other settlers. Oh and can you tell us where the town you started was? There may be clues of Sorik's where abouts still there."
"Thank you for the tea."
Warren sets his cup down carefully. He waits for Andrei to complete his business with patience. He glances curiously around the abode.
When Andrei mentions his father Anastasia's gaze turns thoughtful and lost for a moment. With a shrug she says, "I'll leave that up to you to decide, Andrei. I wouldn't want him rushing down here to 'rescue' me or some other foolish thing. He always was rash and frankly a bit overbearing at times." A small, light laugh escapes her lips as she continues. "But, I'd sure like to see his face. You could almost never surprise the man, but when you did, the expressions and reactions were always priceless."
Still chuckling softly to herself she acknowledges Warren's thanks and begins to make it clear that she is growing tired. She politely escorts the party out.
The vines no longer cover the doorway and the feeling of menace and danger seems to have lifted. The trail, however, is still overgrown and with the sun long since set, some form of light is needed to easily find the way back to camp.
"The old town is about five miles south and a little east of here, along the river." She says as you depart. "I'm not sure what you will find, but beware. The final days...were not pretty. Events like that tend to leave residual dark energies and restless spirits in their wake."
She gives Andrei a slight smile as she gripes his hand in her own rough, callused grasp that still holds strength despite her age. "Be careful nephew. There are many dangers lurking in this land. I wish you well. And if you find yourself in need of the odd medicine or magic, I may be of some help if you ask."
Anwel unrolls his map at Andrei's question, and poises his quill over it in anticipation of Anastasia's answer. But the time it comes, however, she's already shown them the door. Anwel marks the general area she indicates - as well as a skull and crossbones and a speculative river - by leaning the map up against the wall of the house. He bows his head again by way of valediction, leaving a proper goodbye to Andrei.
"Take you for your kindness, I'll visit to give you news when I can. Take care of yourself." Andrei says then gives his Aunt a hug goodbye.
Both Vrag and Tams show signs of relief when everyone returns to camp.
"We was startin' to get a bit worried you weren't comin back." Tams says while tossing another piece of wood on the small campfire. "Goin' to try followin to see if we could help, but couldn't find a trail at all in the dark and among all that brush. Mighty unusual if you ask me." He flicks a wrist toward Warren. "I know he moves through the woods, like a shadow, but usually I've no trouble keepin track o' the rest of you. Vrag's right, this place just ain't natural."
Once you are all back and settled into camp, the rest of the night passes uneventfully.
Once a little away from the hut "Thank you everyone, I'm in your debt and I'm sure you have some questions. I owe you that much and more. So don't be afraid to ask."
"In their debt perhaps," says Anwel, waving his hand at Warren, Stellan, and Gorax. "I, however, still owe you." He crosses his arms, intending not to say anything more.
"It is probably for the best that you did not find us," says Anwel, smiling at Tams's description of Warren. He gives Andrei a sidelong glance to ask whether they can say why, but in the meantime tries to change the subject. "But it was a fruitful excursion. We learned much of the history of the land, and have more questions than ever about some of the famous and infamous personalities. For example, Tams, have you ever seen Akiros's face? Could you describe how he looks? If not, do you think anyone can?"
Warren nods and adds: "Family is important!"
"We also learned not to bother negotiating with many of the evil forces in this land. A fact I had already figured out, but it is good to get some independent confirmation. Well....back to the Trading Post."
He looks at Vrag: "You won't be safe returning. Looks like you are stuck with us. Here is a piece of paper that makes it all legal."
Warren hands Vrag the charter left by the bard or fighter that departed.
Not sure if Vrag reads, Warren summarizes: "This says you are chartered to help me take care of these lands. You have a legal right to be here...you.....belong here."
He laughs as he adds: "Your rights are backed up by a powerful nation very far away that expects you to do all the work. Good deal isn't it?"
"Agreed the ruins of an old town can wait, we need to get back then work out a way to deal with the stag lord and his backers."
Wrinkling his brow in thought, Tams eventually shakes his head at Anwel's question. "Can't say that I've ever seen Akiros myself. I've heard, he tends to keep himself, to himself most of the time." He snaps his fingers, "But I bet if anyone's seen him, it would be Kressle. After all, she was one o' his bosses."
Vrag takes the paper from Warren, a wry grin marking his face. "Nothing like a piece of paper to keep the dragons, fae, and the rest of your kind at bay." He chuckles lightly, "Perhaps this is why your people have failed so often to retake this land. Your leaders all think a piece of paper will give you reign."
He raises his hands to forestall any protest, "But, I welcome the offer and acceptance by you. You're blades and talents have shown me that, perhaps, this time someone has arrived who can actually back up these written words."
"We need to check on the settlers. It has been too long. We also need to tell them about the Power of Erastil that is sweeping this land!"
"I agree. Let's get going." Andrei says packing his stuff onto the donkey.
"'The tribes are not our enemy,'" quotes Anwel, looking into the fire. "That said, it does seem that certain alliances are mutually exclusive." He turns to look at Andrei, to say without words that of course if it comes down to a choice between his aunt and the Bone Ravens, Anastasia would win out. Even laying family ties aside, she is a powerful magician.
"The Swordlords know very well that what rules is power and not law," he says to Vrag, "not only here, but everywhere. But they are also cheap, and think to purchase the land through our actions, and to purchase our loyalty with the aura of legitimacy. Their success has been...marginal.
"We know what we owe to the Swordlords, and the settlers know who cares for their safety. I am sure Tityanna has them well secure," he says, getting up to mount Lairochal. "But I would like to see them again." He nods at Tams. "And to talk to Kressle."
Taking no extra time to explore and map, the ride back to Oleg's only takes three days and the trip ends up being uneventful. Solid evidence that your efforts may be bearing fruit.
Once it comes into view, it is quickly evident that the trading post has undergone a significant transformation. In the few weeks that you've been gone, the tiny outpost has become small settlement.
Fulton Meyerson waves as you pass him and the family working on building a new cabin. Already the walls are up and an adjacent field plowed. Donall has set up his forge and is busy pounding away on what looks to be a good sized plow blade while Tityanna ducks into a small, newly built building marked with an herbalists sign.
It seems another wagon train or two has arrived because there are several strange faces and new tents or wagons set up outside of the old palisade. Another group of men, mostly the former bandits, work on another structure next to the herbalists. The smell of smoke, cooking, and cut timber mixes with the sounds of construction and the cries of children playing to create quite a different atmosphere from the quiet, lonely outpost you first encountered.
Everyone seems to greet you with a wave and broad smile.
Anwel smiles approvingly when the trading post appears over the horizon. Only another caravan from Restov can explain growth of such speed and magnitude. From the looks of things, the new settlers, the original settlers, and the ex-bandits seem to be gelling into a community. Anwel pulls Lairochal back into the middle of their own cavalcade - Vrag, Tams, Dorganil's ex-bandits, and the Sowers - to show his solidarity with them. Not that he is being magnanimous; despite all that had happened since and despite his continued possession of the document, he had been stripped of his charter rights and until they are reinstated he will have no greater status than Tams or Dorganil. In fact, he is pretty sure that Vrag outranks him at this point.
No matter. There are still things to be done. Anwel plans to ask Kressle about Akiros, and what she had done with his letter. He will need to share its contents with Fulton or whoever had taken charge of the settlement in the meantime, and throw himself on their mercy. Tityanna will need to see the items he had not been able to identify on the road. If the others want to sell some of them, and if they deign to give him a share, he will be able to settle up with Oleg for the cost of the sextant. Otherwise, he will need to ask for an extension. If there is any money left he would like to finally copy the spells from the spellbook they had found a few weeks ago into his spellbook. It is vital that he transcribe the trail map he had made onto the master copy. And the Prince knew what the others would have him do, or do to him. At the very least he will probably need to be present at whatever announcement Warren plans to make about Erastil and Rassada. At the most...Anwel looks to see if the settlers have put up a pillory, gallows, or jail yet.
Oh, and given that building a home had seemingly been everyone else's first order of business..."Do you think we will be welcome in our old, borrowed, quarters?" he asks, calling up to Andrei and Warren at the front of the caravan, "or will we be expected to put up our own houses before setting out again?"
Soon they are close enough for the settlers to start to greet them. Anwel returns their waves and smiles, and encourages the ex-bandits around him to do so as well. "They are welcoming you," he says. "Do you want to seem ungrateful?"
Warren smiles at the sight of the trading post which is growing and thriving as he arrives. He answers Anwel: "We won't be staying long. We need to start exploring and mapping the area around this settlement as soon as possible. We can camp under the stars if Oleg has no space left."
He realizes that the next few moments can be crucial, so he waves Vrag to accompany him to the Meyerson house under construction. He gives Fulton a pointed glance and asks, "I have found a friend who can greatly help this community, but he is worried that he might not be accepted. He does not hide who he is. Like Zavac the half-orc covered in hideous scars, he cannot be judged by appearances."
Warren casually picks up some construction materials and motions for Vrag to do the same. "What should I tell him?" as Warren indicated Vrag with his hammer. He gives Sari Meyerson a discerning look and holds out his arms as Tuney flies to settle on Vrag's shoulders.
Andrei nods "I'm sure we can make do with our own tents if we need to."
Andrei wave at those that look up from their tasks as they pass and will pause to talk to any close to their path, dropping away from the rest of the group if required. Once in 'town' he'll go around checking on people. He'll make a point to check on the exbandits first and spend quite a while talking to them while helping what ever they are working on. After that he'll move greeting all the new people and gettign to know them a bit.
The former bandits seem a bit overwhelmed by the noise and number of people, but they follow Anwel's advice and put on smiles and friendly faces.
Fulton Meyerson greets Warren with a warm handshake. Once the druid introduces Vrag, he frowns slightly but eventually shrugs. "If these men vouch for you, then I'd say your welcome to stay. Although it is a might crowded now that a third group arrived yesterday."
Sari Meyerson comes running up and at first only has eyes for Stellan and Vinur. She and the young winter wolf enjoy a good bit of wrestling, giggling and alternating barking and squealing. But eventually she does notice the bugbear being introduced by Warren when the eagle lands on his shoulder.
Her eyes wide, she whistles softly. "Wow. A real bugbear." She says amazed. Her eyes squint as she turns to Warren, Anwel, and Andrei, "Are you going to put him to the sword? Hang him? Or use him for archery practice? Are we going to have more trials?" she says in her rapid fire way.
Hearing the girls words, Vrag stumbles as he reaches for the hammer from Warren. Taking a few steps back he looks to the party for some kind of conformation that the girls ideas won't be carried out.
Warren laughs at the questions of the young girl.
"A brave warrior that fights for us that happens to be a bugbear is worth more than ten of the human bandits we put on trial. We only put those to trial that deserve it. Did you want to put Zavac the Scarred on Trial because he was a half orc?"
Warren confides to Fulton: "Thad is staying and some of our other warriors have found other endeavors. Vrag is needed and appreciated."
Warren gives Sari a stern look.
"We need to secure the area a days ride in every direction to make sure the settlement is in no immediate danger."
"In other words, no, no, no, and none with Vrag as the defendant," says Anwel, who by this time has dismounted and gone to stand in front of Fulton with the others. He scratches the back of his hand nervously, trying to remember when Sari had developed such a taste for blood. It is one thing to relish the pain life brings you because you deserve it. It is quite another to want to enjoy watching someone else suffer, especially a stranger.
Anwel pulls his rolled-up charter out of his robe and offers it to Fulton. "But if you wish, Mister Meyerson, you may try me for oathmaking in bad faith." With his free hand he makes the gestures to cast the whispering spell, then covers his mouth with his sleeve.
"I am given to understand that oathbreakers die," he says aloud, much more lightly than his earlier remarks. But he watches Sari to see how she reacts to the prospect.
Warren also smiles and swallows a few times before speaking earnestly: "It appears we all have been under some pressure to seek a new beginning here. Anwel seems to have been under more pressure than any of us. Looking at his reasons, they have some merit given that he would naturally think like those of Nidal. I think I can speak for Thad and say the he would agree with me that the trials are over for now."
When all of the settlement are gathered, Warren speaks in a clear but plain baritone voice. "We saw a new deity raised in front of my very eyes, and I am completely convinced that Erastil has seen fit to have his child grow up to nurture these lands. The religion of Erastil is now of both the old and the new. Old Deadeye has chosen these lands to nurture his young daughter. Gozreh herself has revealed that turning to Erastil and his progeny is acceptable to her. The Seed of Erastil has accepted all in our company, and I see no reason to question her judgement. Rather than question divine providence, I think we have a patron deity to watch over us. I urge you to consider not only my testimony, but that of all who were there. We need to remember that Erastil is the embodiment of community and we should look to him for guidance to establish our moral codes."
Sari look's down at the ground when Warren mentions Zavac, "No sir." She says quietly. "Sorry I thought you were a monster." She says to Vrag after Anwel says the bugbear won't be tried.
Both Fulton and Sari are startled by Anwel's revelation, Fulton waits a few seconds before taking the charter from Anwel's hand. Seeing the look of grim determination on Anwel's face, he decides this isn't a trick or joke being played on him as the still newly selected leader of the community.
"I see..." He says with some hesitation. "I will gather the others. We've formed a small community council since you've been gone. It seemed to be the only way to make decisions and keep from driving Oleg crazy, especially once the new folk started to arrive."
"Papa, you won't let them harm Anwel will you?" Sari says earnestly. "I mean, tellin' a fib isn't the same as killin', and stealin' and hurtin' people and using dark magic."
Putting his arm around his daughter, Fulton gives her a smile. "Well, sometimes lies can be as harmful as all those things." He says to her. "But no, I don't think Anwel will come to harm. Now run along a tell your mother I'll be late for supper."
"If you want to rest for a bit a refresh yourselves, I know Oleg still has space for you inside the palisade." He says after Sari dashes off and then leaves himself to gather the others.
*********
Everyone gathers outside the palisade gates. The 'council' seems to be made up of Fulton, Donal, Tityanna, Ursula, Kressle, and two other men you haven't met before. Once everyone is settled, Fulton briefly shares Anwel's statement. After the usual muttering and general reactions are over, Fulton asks for comments from the council or party members.
Warren steps up and voices his tale and strong defense of the elf. By the time he is finished another round of startled muttering and reactions fill the air as the mention of divine beings and recent events capture the attention of the crowd. But many also nod their heads in agreement that Anwel's crime does not deserve harsh punishment.
After Warren finishes, Fulton turns to Anwel, "Is there anything you would like to say or share before we decide what to do?"
Anwel waits for Fulton to gather the council propped against the shady southwest corner of the palisade. He cannot help but wonder how the trial will proceed. He had wanted Stellan to be his advocate, but the witch had withdrawn more and more into communion with Vinur since the battle in the quarry. On the ride back from Anastasia's, Anwel had tried to plan with him, but to no avail.
To distract himself from worry, and so he will not appear to be brooding if his mistress decides to scry him, he starts to examine the book and scroll he had been unable to read back in Rassada's grotto. Auras are still beyond him, but hopefully he has prepared well enough to read the text.
Soon, however, Oleg leads him outside to face the council and the assembled citizens. Anwel does so, but makes no attempt to push the hair fall out of his face. Thankfully, Fulton keeps the proceedings short; the less time this takes, the less opportunity to scry. He looks up in surprise when Warren steps forward to be his advocate, and though Anwel would have liked to have some input on his defense beforehand and cannot help but feel that Warren got up, at least in part, so he could preach to the conveniently-gathered crowd, having someone speak for him is far better than the alternative. Anwel smiles at the druid as he goes to sit down.
He finally tucks his hair behind his ears when Fulton asks him to rise and speak. "Not in my defense," he says in his breathy tenor. "The point was to ask for mercy, and a long speech is not in my interest. I will say how happy I am to see that this community has flourished, and has evolved an equitable government on its own. And Kressle," he says, turning to the newly-minted councilor, "you may remember I left you a letter to be opened on Pharast 16th. I had written it when everyone thought Thad would be staying, so it is in Elven, but Udo should be able to read it to you and the rest of the council while you deliberate. Much of its content has since been invalidated by events, but it can help corroborate Fulton's statement and speaks to my state of mind at the time."
He sits back down and folds his hands in his lap. "I await your decision."
Andrei will step forward to speak "Before I start I would like to point out that discussing this matter brings risk from Anwel's old mistress, who I think it would be wise not to name. This matter needs to be settled now and not raised again or talk about again even among members here with excellent reason."
Andrei pauses to take a breath and look around before continuing. Should I tell them of my lie too, no again the more that know about the more danger everyone is in.
"I have travelled with Anwel for about a month now and consider myself fairly good judge of character. I believe him when he says that he no choice in coming here, if true his old mistress's attention was already turned this way and he did not bring it. If he lies it is not one I would choise to make up as it would only get suspicion and possibly death. I believe he speaks the truth and has warned us of a great evil we need to prepare for. Now accepting he speaks the truth we have some options, killing him, imprisoning him or banishing will draw the attention of this evil. Given time for Old Deadeye's daughter to mature and the rest of us to prepare we can face that evil, but now it would be dangerous. Alternative we can accept Anwel back into the family we are building, not only will his knowledge of the enemy be invaluable I have found him over the last month to be selfless man and trust worthy companion. So I would beseech you all to find that he is innocent of all wrong doing."
Warren also desires to preempt any lengthy discussion of Anwel's past and not risk any danger of magical spying. He immediately casts detect magic to reveal any magic auras while holding his new holy symbol.
If no powerful auras, he will state: "The Seed of Erastil has shown no spying at this moment from afar. Rather than discuss the past, we need to recommit to the future. Swearing an oath by Erastil to serve the best interests of the new settlers of these lands and the best interests of Erastil and his progeny should be sufficient. Divine oaths have a power all their own. I have already done so, but I can do it again."
After Anwel, Andrei and Warren makes their case, several conversations break out among the crowd. Raising his hands and calling for quiet, Fulton manages to regain a semblance of control.
"Kressle do you have the letter Anwel spoke of?" He says to the former bandit leader who seems to have secured a solid foothold in the community since the party departed a few weeks ago.
Rising to her feet with the aid of a cane, Kressle nods her head to Fulton. "I do have the letter." She says drawing a slightly battered envelope from her belt pouch. "I admit I was surprised that you entrusted me with this information." She says to Anwel with a slight smile. "But then you would be right in assuming I could share a certain level of understanding for your situation. The lady Alaina was able to read the letter and we both agreed little would be gained from sharing its contents until you returned to speak on your own behalf."
Turning her attention to the council and those gathered. She raises her voice so it carries to those in the back. "Many of us are here today because of the ability to forgive shown by these men and women. I stand here representing those who were given a choice to give their oath and been given a second chance rather than hang. I say that no crime has been committed here. The past is what it is, what matters is the actions of today and tomorrow. In that, I have only seen Anwel act with honor and respect to those in this community. Leave it in the past where it belongs." She starts to sit, but then hesitate slightly and adds in a grime voice. "And should this Queen of Shadows show herself let her learn that the Stolen Lands are not so easily tamed."
Kressle sits to numerous nods and even a few hardy cheers from some of those who used to be part of her bandit following.
The blacksmith, Donal nods his agreement and adds in his full, boisterous voice, "Aye, most of us have ended up here because we wanted to leave something in our past behind. I see no reason to exclude one of those who have fought with bravery and honor to see us safe from that same desire."
Laying her hand on Donal's arm, Tityanna offers the big blacksmith a smile and then addresses Andrei, Warren and Anwel. "I think we can all agree that Anwel is forgiven for his forced deception." She glances at the council members who all nod agreement.
"But you have mentioned a daughter of Erastil, potentially a new member of the pantheon. You have spoken of oaths and the future." She turns her green-eyed gaze on Warren. "Are you saying we must all swear oaths and allegiance to this new goddess?"
Warren laughs: "I did not suggest an oath to serve this new progeny of Erastil's or Erastil himself, only an oath to respect the primary tenet of Erastil. And that is: 'My community comes first, and I will contribute to it all that I can. If I don’t give back, who will?'"
He adds: "I would also suggest that those who have seen Erastil's seed will promise to protect her."
"Spoken in the best tradition of Citizen Jubannich," says Anwel heartily, clearly relieved. Though it has been some weeks since he last mentioned his lost friend, Anwel hopes Warren remembers enough to take that for the sincere compliment that that is. Although the memory is enough to remind Anwel that he cannot devote himself to Erastil, that is not what Warren asks. "I would take such an oath, with a whole heart."
Before he does so, however, Anwel turns to face the council. "Thank you for your forgiveness, for your welcome, and for your understanding," he says, his gray eyes meeting those of Tityanna, Donal, and Kressle in turn. He lingers longest on Kressle, silently making sure she knows "understanding" includes her unreserved pledge of support against the Shadowcountess. As he starts to turn back to Warren he catches Dorganil staring at him out of the crowd, which reminds him of something rather important.
"I cannot, however, without first knowing the name the people of this commune have given it," he says, spreading his arms wide in affected chagrin. "The name it had when we left no longer seems to fit!"
Blank stares and silence face Anwel as he asks about the communities name. "Er...well." Stumbles Fulton as he looks around to the other council members, his face turning red.
Shortly Donal bursts out with a loud laugh, "It seems none of us have given a name much thought beyond Oleg's Trading Post." Others in the crows laugh as well. "I say you gentlemen have done the most to make it safe and bring it to life, so you ought to have the privilege of naming this little hamlet."
Everyone nods along in agreement with the smith's suggestion, turning the question back onto the party members.
"Very well," says Anwel, thinking quickly as he turns back to Warren. Taldan convention would name the town after its most prominent feature, the Rostland Road. But beyond that, such a moment, with such people, demands something evocative. And ideally that something should refer to all the Sowers' preoccupations.
"Then in light of the promise it represents, for a better life for its people, for opportunity, for redemption, for a new flowering of the Stag's faith in the land, I would pledge to 'Morrowgate.'" He turns his head to look back at Kressle. "So that those who try to taint night and morrowdim with fear and evil will learn that they should be afraid."
Warren nods but then adds: "With the birth of a new god among us, I was hoping we slip Stag in the name somewhere. But I do like gate in the name as we all passed through here at first. I think of this Trading Post as our gate. Morrowgate sounds good to me."