Concentrating on his chess game, Wilhelm fails to hear the guard's warning shouts -much less any noise the man himself makes- as a stranger approaches Oleg's. As he finishes his game and concludes his conversation with Bej, Wilhelm glances aside appraisingly at the newcomer. Definitely a fighter, and not one of ours. If he's looking for work, Dante may want a look at him. Making a mental note, Wilhelm's gaze lingers a moment on the weapon the mercenary carried, but he ignored the nagging itch in the back of his mind.
Turning to resume his conversation, Wilhelm snaps his mouth shut as the newcomer asks after the Lord Baron Orlovsky. Sighing in frustration at the numerous duties facing him, Wilhelm excuses himself from his conversation with Bej, "Hopefully this will only take a moment."
Standing from his table and turning to face the man, Wilhelm inclines his head politely and says, "My personal domain, as it were, doesn't extend much beyond these walls. For the moment. That said, you've found it and me. Baron Wilhelm Orlovsky, pleased to make your acquaintance. You are?"
Why does that weapon look so familiar?
"Ah ha yes, slowly I'm afraid. I've sent letters to both the academy in the capitol and my family at Port Ice requesting promising recruits and additional troops, but I've yet to hear back. I see that Oleg's is quite a bit more populated then last I was here. Perhaps I'll see if there are any able bodied interested in being soldiers. We've no enemies launching campaigns against us yet, thankfully. If I've nothing but farmers and settlers to start with, it will take at least a full year of training until they're a right proper force."
"A year is a long time to wait. Let's hope the peace lasts long enough to train an army of settlers and farmers. Mercenaries have loyalty only to gold, and foreign aid always has attached strings."
Anastacia notices the man hurrying toward Oleg's.
"I wonder who that could be..."
Roan blinks, obviously taken aback that he found a lord, even a minor one playing chess in some trade post. Quickly the moment fades and he drops to one knee.
"I am Roan, one of Irori's faithful, at your service My Liege." As he stands, he takes a step back and looks at Wilhelm for a moment.
Really? ...A beard? Subconsciously, Roan strokes his own, thoroughly shaven shin. "I've come to offer you my services, My Lord... I am a mercenary of some small acclaim... I..." The man hesitates, then his eyes sharpen, and he seems to focus and steel himself as he proclaims with no lack of boldness. "I've come to serve you and ride your coat-tails to glory. I will help you build up this land and in doing so, gain glory and wealth, and reclaim the family name that was wrongly denied me." The bold expression seems to harden a bit further into a glare, as the man places the golden bill-guisarme between himself and Wilhelm, haft to the ground and blade up in a clearly non battle-ready stance that nonetheless has a clear feeling of a challenge. Twirling the haft, Roan spins the polearm so that the flat of the blade faces Wilhelm. Though showing all the hallmarks of careful maintenance, free of dust and debris, obviously polished and the blade holding a keenly sharpened edge, the blade also shows the signs of heavy use in the form of a network of nicks and scratches crossing and dashing across the blade. Of note, two small symbols are etched into the bottom of the blade. One appears to be a simple maker's mark, the second, is that of House Orlovsky. "I assume that you recognize this?"
Dareon stands among his compatriots, smiling and amiable and happy to see them all back, and alive. He is a little bit concerned for Sanita and Fharn (they are late, after all, and the river routes are known for piracy) though he supposes if anyone out there would be okay, it would be them. Or, really, any pair of this crowd.
"I'm not sure we'll need much of an army for a long time as long as we've got this group." says Dareon, motioning at Dante and Anastacia. "I have complete confidence in our ability to handle many types of threats, up to and including large groups of hostile combatants."
We lose one to kobold-dom, another one pops up. Is there a dwarven forge somewhere in the mountains where they just make Orlowskys? grins Bej as he packs his chessboard after yet another win.
“Pleasure to meet you, Roan. Name’s Bej Vanskian, in service of Lord Wilhelm here. I’m from up north, near the lake.” Bej is not one for pleasantries, and after this short introduction he sits back and enjoys his ale, casually listening to what Wilhelm and the newcomer have to discuss.
Roan offers Bej a small nod in return, courteous, but showing the same mutual disinterest as Bej in anything overly formal.
Dareon approaches Roan to join in on the introductions. "Ah, another colonist, yes? Or a warrior, come to pledge his service to the new Baron? Good to meet you either way. My name's Dareon. I am...I suppose you could say I am a court wizard, if we had a court to do any wizardry in. Perhaps a trading post wizard, then, or a countryside wizard." at his attempted jest, Dareon giggles a little bit.
Roan offers a smile to the wizard and a nod, before returning his gaze back to the Baron. "Likewise, Dareon, the pleasure's mine."
"Um..yeah. So hi, welcome." says Dareon, a bit flustered and disappointed. He lingers for just a few moments before he awkwardly turns and leaves the group welcoming the newcomer. Humour was supposed to work!
Wanting to meet the newcomer, Anastacia heads down to the common room. Seeing the stranger facing Wilhelm, Anastacia walks over to stand beside the paladin. Her hand goes down to rest on the haft of her brand new cold iron mace.
Anastacia just stands and watches, her face impassive. Wilhelm is having a conversation with the fellow, she will not interrupt, but the fellow is a little too intent with his scrutinizing.
Lanya has maintained some sense of decorum as she and Wilhelm met up again with Rowan and Dante, keeping things again to a (mildly) teasing tone.
Seeing the new amount of people having popped up around Oleg's she excuses herself from the group and goes out to talk to many of them, wandering what kind of news they might have brought from Brevoy or rumours they'd have picked up from the hunters and trappers.
When she's done talking to the masses she walks back in, to just see Wilhelm playing chess with Bej and losing. Looks like Bej would also be a good general, he's got a sound mind for tactics that one.
Draekh is wandering off on his own again, inside Oleg's he knows he can do such a thing, most have seen the snake with Lanya and know he is hers. Draekh slithers over to Wilhelm's feet and tries to get up his leg to take a close look at the chessboard.
Lanya in the meantime was busy keeping a journal, sitting alone against the trading post's wall basking in the sun, her fiery red hair almost blazing. She notices some men stop and stare at her, but she gives them no notice. The attention is nice, but I'm not looking for anyone at the moment. I've already got someone to toy with.
She smiles to herself and her eyes wander the crowd inside Oleg's, the last man to stop and stare quickly running off as she looked at him.
Looking around she notices the new face talking to Wilhelm. I wonder who that could be. Seeing how he is dressed he could be another lordling. I wonder... more Orlovskys?
Then Anastacia joins the group around Wilhelm and Lanya makes up her mind to barge in as well. She'd want to talk to Anastacia again after all and hadn't found the time yet. She walks up to the group from behind and lays a hand on Wilhelm's and one on Anastacia's shoulder.
"Welcome back Anastacia!" she says as she moves to the other side of her, giving Wilhelm a glance and a wink as he looks up.
She embraces Anastacia as though she would hug her own sister then asks her.
"How was your exploration? Did you already hear something from our journey? If yours was as eventful as ours I want to hear all about it."
She then looks at Roan appraisingly. Obviously she is waiting to be introduced, but just as Anastacia she doesn't want to butt in directly.
Wilhelm is unsure if he's happy or sad with Lanya's restraint, as the duo meet with Rowan and Dante for the return to Oleg's.
[ooc]Before standing up greet Roan
Noticing Draekh slithering about his feet, Wilhelm gently extends a hand to the little viper and allows him to move about his person at will. Turning to face the newcomer, Wilhelm pauses a moment to catch Lanya's eye. Smiling a little and arching an eyebrow, he glances pointedly at the little snake.
Standing awkwardly as the newcomer drops to one knee in front of him, Wilhelm looks on, bemused, as Roan offers his services. Looking Roan over appraisingly, Wilhelm notes how well worn, and maintained, the man's gear is. Certainly an experienced fighter. Dante will likely be thrilled to take an experienced man like this for our military, but he offers his services to me personally. Why?
Preparing to ask that very question, he finds himself nearly biting his tongue as Roan makes his proclamation. Clearly shocked, Wilhelm recovers quickly as a slow smile grows on the young man's face. Wilhelm makes a token effort to hide it behind his hand as he strokes his beard but he eventually gives in to impulse and barks a quick laugh, "I suppose it's good that you're being upfront about that. Certainly a refreshing change from the skulduggery so many nobles seem to partake in."
Returning Roan's gaze levelly, Wilhelm feels the same nagging itch that had been bothering him since he'd first laid on eyes on the man return. His expression growing more puzzled, Wilhelm breaks away from the gaze and glances to the weapon, studying it. Eyes narrowing as recognition finally breaks through, Wilhelm glances back to Roan for a moment. My great-grandfather's weapon? How did he come by it? I'd thought it lost all those years ago. Frowning, Wilhelm remains silent, declining to answer the man's question aloud, though it's obvious that he does recognize it.
Running a hand a hand through his hair, Wilhelm listens idly to exchange of pleasantries between Roan and the rest of the council as he thinks. Lost in thought as he runs through all he can remember of the arguing and anger surrounding the disappearance of the weapon, Wilhelm finally snaps out of his reveries when Lanya greets Anastacia and makes a clear intimation that she'd like to be introduced.
Clearing his throat, Wilhelm curtly replies to Roan's question, "Yes, I recognize it, though I'm curious how you came by it." Taking a deep breath, Wilhelm exhales and replies in a more genial tone, "My apologies, it wasn't my intent to be rude, though you have stoked my curiosity, Roan. I'd thought the weapon long since lost or sold. That, however, may need to wait for a time."
Gesturing to Lanya and Anastacia, Wilhelm provides an introduction, "Roan of Irori, allow me to introduce Anastacia Stormwing, priestess of Pharasma and the Lady Lanya of Medvyed. Both are formidable in their own right and have been invaluable in the success of our little expedition to date. I consider myself lucky to have them in my service. Lanya, Anastacia, may I introduce Roan of Irori, mercenary and fighter of no small repute. As you may have heard, he's expressed interest in service to our realm."
As Roan continues his own introduction, Wilhelm gently lays a hand on Lanya's shoulder, a smile tugging at his lips as he tries to shoo Draekh back to his master. In a quiet tone, Wilhelm teases, "You know, m'lady, that I seem to be catching this little fellow creeping all about my person. I'm hardly an expert on these matters but I seem to recall familiars pick up on their master's thoughts and desires. I could be wrong of course." Grinning in earnest now, Wilhelm allows his hand to linger as he returns his attention to Roan.
Having laid the first bits of groundwork, Roan relaxes a little. Patience, you'll get what you wanted, just give into the flow of social graces. Roan listens to the introductions and allows himself a small chuckle, "Of small repute, My Lord. Hard to truly be famous as a sell-sword, but it's praise I can accept all the same." Turning towards Anastacia, Roan smiles, "Ms. Stormwing, always a pleasure to meet one of the Lady of Graves' followers. I hope you've not been over-busy in the tasks of your faith here?" Giving time for a reply, he then turns to Lanya.
For Lanya, he makes a small bow, comprised mostly of nodded head and a slight incline of the back. "M'Lady, a pleasure to meet one of such an enduring house. I must thank you for the service you've provided my- ...lord." Once again he makes room for a reply before turning back towards Wilhelm.
Roan frowns slightly at the little exchange of teasing between Wilhelm and Lanya, and interjects into the conversation. "You asked, M'Lord, how I came across this weapon. The weapon your great-grandfather Richard Orlovksy used this weapon to defend Brevoy in the Battle of Three Rivers." Roan paces a short distance away from Wilhelm. "Well, when I was eighteen years old, my father took a short trip to the Temple of Irori that I was at to deliver this to me."
Turning about, it's clear that Roan's muscles are coiled. Stressed at the least, preparing to defend himself a distinct possibility. "The last name denied me was Orlovsky, brother. I was thrust into the care of Irori when dear mother sought to ensure you a better life by seeing me cast out upon your birth. Though considering I wasn't her son, I suppose I can understand."
Roan reaches into his pack and retrieves a letter, sealed with wax with the symbol of House Orlovsky. "This letter should explain and validate my claims. If my possession of great-grandfather's arms isn't enough."
Gozran 4
The next few days are spent with everyone striving to form order out the chaos that is unfolding around you. Meetings are held and much of the organizational details are ironed out.
Near sunset on the 4th of Gozren a young boy comes running into town yelling at the top of his lungs. "We're being Invaded! We're being Invaded!"
Dareon leans low when the little troublemaker runs around, stopping him with a single finger on the boy's shoulder. "Invasion? What to you mean? Can you describe the invaders?"
After he's described the attackers (or not) he'll say, "Tig, go find your parents. Stay in, let us take care of it."
The kid breathlessly replies to Dareon. "There's hundreds of them. On horses and wearing armor. Coming down the road there." He gestures down the South Rostland Road to the east. Dareon can barely make out what appears to be a cloud of dust from where Tig is pointing.
Dareon takes a single step past the little kid and pats him on the shoulder, pushing him away. "Get someplace safe, kid. Behind a wall, indoors, with your parents." He cranes his neck up and along the road, and sees the cloud of dust, and the large group of mounted knights moving towards the fort. Dareon knows he has little more than a few minutes to prepare, so he rushes immediately to the domicile of Lord Wilhelm. Opening the door (assuming Lanya isn't in there "entertaining" him) Dareon is breathless and wide-eyed. "Sir, um...there is a sizable column of mounted knights headed towards Oleg's presently. If you would perhaps put on your armor and help me gather the others?"
He'll go to gather the others, starting with Dante and moving on to Vors, then Bej, and finally Anastacia, before returning to the front of the fort to witness the approach of the mounted soldiers. As soon as it appears that they're within a minute of arriving, Dareon casts fly on himself, but doesn't yet fly into the air.
If they continue charging past 500 feet away, Dareon will rise into the air 30 feet and call out "Halt and declare your purpose for coming!" and if they fail to do so and continue charging, he'll cast web, trying to catch as many of them as he can inside the web.
Anastacia smiles at Lanya, glad to see her. "I'd like to hear about your travels, Later..."
Turning towards Anastacia, Roan smiles, "Ms. Stormwing, always a pleasure to meet one of the Lady of Graves' followers. I hope you've not been over-busy in the tasks of your faith here?"
"A pleasure to meet you as well, Roan." Anastacia hopes this is the truth, but the man's purpose in coming is not yet clear.
Fairly busy actually. Bandits"
The cleric then falls silent, she is there to support Wilhelm, but it is for him to do the talking.
Roan nods at Anastacia, "Well, I suppose that's still a step up from fighting the undead. At least you can attempt to reason with the living."
After getting some semblance of settled in, Roan seeks out Dareon. "Uh, excuse me... Dareon? Post wizard? I wanted to apologize for my rather... brusk introduction earlier. I figure I'd like a second chance at it." Roan opens his pack to show a bottle of Old Law Whiskey that he had purchased from Oleg earlier that day. "Now I know proper sleep is important for you wizarding folks, but my time studying the path of Irori has given me the ability to shirk the need for sleep, and I can extend that to others, like yourself. You can spend the whole night awake, and still be fresh and ready for the morrow." Roan smiles a somewhat awkward smile, "So, what do you say? How about we retry this introduction business, and you tell me about yourself and about how things have been going out here on the frontier?"
Roan intones a short spell before pressing his right hand against his forehead, and then against Dareon's. "There we are, so long as we don't do anything strenuous like go running around like mad-men we should have no trouble in the morning regarding sleep."
Roan stood atop the battlements, pacing back and forth, keeping watch and taking mental notes of all the problems with defenses, trying to think of ways to amend them with their current resources. At the shouting of the young boy, Roan looks down and frowns. He didn't recognize him, but he didn't really recognize anyone around here yet.
While Dareon speaks to the boy, Roan looks out to the horizon and stares at the dust cloud in the distance. A low, thick, rolling dust indicates infantry, while a high, thin dust indicates cavalry... Any force that could approach undetected and get this close this quickly must be small, a skirmishing band more than an invasion force. But that cloud is high, too high for a small force. Guess they're well armored then... As Dareon moves off to warn the others, Roan shouts to him, "Dareon! Make sure Dante knows, we'll need him to organize the defenses! And make sure Wilhelm sees me before the fighting begins!"
"Perhaps you're right in that assumption of Draekh, perhaps he likes you as well. If he acted on my desires than we would have an awkward situation now."
As the sun sets, Lanya is busy helping Svetlana in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables. When the sound comes of approaching riders she looks up and puts down the knife.
"Sorry Svetlana, I'll be back later. I think we have something to attend to."
She leaves the kitchen and Oleg's main building jogging up the palissade wall.
"What's wrong Dareon." she asks as she looks out over the plains as well.
When Roan calls out for defenses and fighting she looks hesitant.
"I'll go get Wilhelm and look for Dante, but remember that those riders may not be hostile. We should see what they want before provoking them. It's what I am here for." She calls back to Roan.
She then sprints back down and goes to look for Dante and Wilhelm to inform them of the approaching riders if they haven't already heard.
Roan grimaces from his position on the battlements. If they were friendly, an armed force like this should've asked their presence via messenger before entering another's territory, or would at least not be coming upon us with such speed... Nonetheless, Roan signals his acknowledgment and waits for the arrival of the force, preparing to be fully able to understand and exploit their communication, or at least be abreast of any political happenings.
Gesturing around the trading post at the few members of his gorup that are visible, and implying an inclusion for those that are missing, he continues. "These are some of the finest and most elite folk I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Together, we invaded the domicile of and toppled a local bandit overlord, and their leader has seen fit to bestow upon me the honor of being included in a new colony that they found here. Overall, one of the best outcomes that could have come from running away from home."
"But enough about me...what of you?"
"Sounds like things are even more harrowing out here than I'd have expected. You haven't been out here that long, have you?" When it comes, Roan thinks long on the question leveled at him. "About me, huh? Well, really there's not much to say and too much to say." He sighs and stares up at the ceiling, "Well, not that much to say about my early childhood, it was fairly normal, at least if I remember correctly. But once I got kicked out of the Orlovsky household, I lived at a remote little Temple of Irori. It was a quiet place, as I'd guess you'd probably imagine. Followers of Irori are dedicated to perfecting their minds and their bodies, to ascend ourselves and become deified like Irori himself. But as you'd probably imagine, such a life is fairly boring to a six year old. A life of practicing the martial arts to hone the body, a life of meditation to hone the mind. Neither was really all that interesting to me when I was that young. It was my mentor, Renault who eventually found some other way for me to try and better myself." Roan takes a sip of the whiskey, then sets it aside again.
"He gave me something to do, really that was all it took. A game, that still had the same focus. He recommended that I poke about the other monks, taunt them, spy on them, try to just figure out their weaknesses so that I could teach them from it." Picking up the whiskey bottle, Roan gives it a bit of a shake at Dareon with a small smile, "Guess old habits die hard. Hm? But eventually I just got too impatient I suppose. When my father gave me this old weapon, I really started to question just how much I could hone myself locked away from the world. Sometimes you've got to test yourself to better yourself, you know? So I left, became a mercenary to keep testing myself, keep pushing myself, and hopefully gain a little bit of fame and glory along the way. I guess that's it really, my life story as it were." The man takes another sip of the whiskey.
"I don't suppose you could give me your opinions on the rest of this merry band? You made it look like they're not all here."
He listens, of course, to Roan's explanation of the mans childhood in an Iroran temple, and suspects that he's leaving out a few things..which was only fair, since Dareon had done so as well. "No, I haven't been out here long - a few weeks, really. There are some of this troupe that's been out here for months, so I've been led to believe."
"Oh, you were certainly right to get out of that monastery - letting your feet learn the ground of a thousand miles of different land and your eyes learn the sky and the sea and their peoples is a worthwhile ai, even if you end up doing other things along the way."
Dareon cocks his head at Roan's last question. The others? Well, he certainly had been around for long enough to develop opinions on them, but why was the warrior asking? "I mean...as long as you're not rival royalty sent here to spy on us and report back our weaknesses and our fears...I wouldn't put it past many Brevoyans..."
"Well, I suppose that seems a bit unlikely in this case. And you seem a trustworthy fellow. Let's see..."
"Well, I arrived with a few other people, right when the trading post was going from two customers a year to fifteen customers at a time. One, an Issian mage-archer named Bej. Serious, dour, but trustworthy, I suppose. Another, an arcane knight called Fharn and his raven, Munin. They're funny. They aren't here right now - they traveled back to Brevoy to do some shopping. The third is also in Brevoy, with Fharn. Her name is Sanita. A bit unpredictable and very argumentative, but nice enough, I suppose. She's a doctor-in-training."
"As for the folks that were already here when we got here...well, Felix isn't here either, and that's because he died and got turned into a kobold, so he's with the Sootscale tribe being a diety right now. Then there's Dante, Rowan, Lanya, Vors, and Anastacia. Dante's a strong fighter, aging but skilled. Rowan's a faithful of Erastil, and a quite powerful natural mage. Lanya is...a diplomat, that uses her appearance to her advantage. Vors is a young wildling that fights with the strength of five men. Not a bad guy, either. Anastacia's a faithful of Pharasma. A bit fiery, and one of the few around here that isn't afraid to question authority."
"Finally, our noble leader, Wilhelm. A holy warrior on behalf of Iomedae, he's still quite young and naive. Not quite the grizzled vetaran quite yet, but still, none of us are."
Roan snorts at the implication Dareon makes at his alcohol-laced tactics. "Well, when you put it that way, I am a man who has traveled here to join the court of a Baron in part to make sure that he keeps fair company. So I suppose I would be that sort of prick as you put it."
Roan simply listens to the description Dareon gives of the various other members, then offers a smile. "All of us, except that Dante fellow you mention I suppose." He falls silent for a moment, before grinning. "But I suppose you've seen rather quite through me. I'm no member of a rival court, but I am indeed trying to find your weaknesses and fears." His face turns more serious. "After all, as you said it's not something you'd put past most Brevoyans. And since that's the world we live in, we best be one step ahead, the only way in which to do that that I see, would be to learn these myself so that I can help prevent anything... unfortunate from happening."
The mercenary sighs as he stares towards the ceiling. "Take for example, this Lanya you mentioned. You called her one of the Elite, and given everything you've been through, can't say I'll really argue with your judgement. But as you mentioned, she's serving as this land's diplomat, if she uses such... wiles for diplomacy, such a thing will become well known. That alone is little cause for concern, but let's now enter my noble and naive brother, Wilhelm. He seems quite... taken by her. Can't say I blame him, she's quite fetching after all. But as he introduced her as Lady Medvyed, I can already determine they are not married, and she as a tempting woman with a oath-bound Paladin, could cause all sorts of problems. Especially as with the abilities Irori grants me, I can already tell that such... proclivities are something that my brother has some trouble struggling with.
What would we do, if someone began to spread rumors that this lady Lanya was in fact the one ruling, using her wiles to puppet our poor Baron. Worse yet, what if such rumors implied that it was magical in nature? I presume by the snake that follows her about that she has some magical ties, be they druidic or some other form of the arcane. If such rumors were carefully laid to the Church of Iomedae, that one of their faithful was ensorceled by this voluptuous temptress, and be a mere puppet to her whims? Right now, we're frankly too small to be worthy of such notice, but later? Once our boarders expand and our populace grows? Such rumors could lead crusades and armies against us, be the reason a lie or no, or even if those leading the march understand that they are following such lies. And this is to say nothing of whether she leads, intentionally or no, my brother to break his oaths and fall. A barony lead by a fallen paladin would be beset on all sides by any good folk or those who wish to pretend to be such good folk."
Staring grimly at the floor for a moment before speaking again. "Perhaps it's just my background. As a mercenary, I view many things as war. And war is deception. If your enemy believes themselves the stronger, all the better, for then you can use this arrogance against them to lead them into traps, and ambushes, or even just a fool-hardy charge against your fortifications. If your strength is truly known to the enemy, you can never win. For if you're stronger, they'll retreat, train their men, seek better ground, perform strikes and raids against your baggage train to weaken you. Then when the terrain is right, their men better trained, and you weakened, that is when they will strike. If you are weaker, they'll simply march up and destroy you. ...No, you only win when you are the stronger of the two forces, but your enemy thinks themselves the stronger, and therefore meets you willingly on the field of battle. Politics, I believe are much the same. And so we must be constantly aware of the deception of our enemies, and know are weaknesses so that we may strengthen them if we can, or hide them if we cannot."
Roan shrugs, "So yeah, I am looking for the weaknesses in this court of Wilhelm's. But only because I believe it the only way for me to defend him, rest assured of that much at least. If we know where the walls are weak, we'll know where to reinforce them. After all, I now know you don't drink and therefore cannot have such tools used against you to loosen your tongue. If anyone ever attempts such things, I can rest assured that you will not fall to such temptations and keep my eyes focused on other places, safe in the trust that I can now give you."
Bej is tending to Fortune when the kid comes in warning the trading post. Now that’s something that doesn’t sound good at all! thinks Bej.
As quickly as he can, he goes for Vors and Rowan “Say, folks, none of us is too good with diplomacy, and if these folks plan on besieging us I’d like to have someone on the outside. Actually, I’d like to be the one on the outside. Care to join me?”
That said, he jumps on his horse and leaves the trading post, stopping in the nearest patch of trees thick enough to provide cover. There he waits for the cavaliers to show their colors. As soon as they are within longbow distance, he casts a few enhancement spells on himself and observes carefully.
Lanya searches the main buildings for Dante and Wilhelm and calls them out to get outside. That is if she doesn't see them outside.
She then returns with them quickly to the top of the walls.
"So any more details about our incoming friends?" She asks Dareon.
Flushing slightly red at Lanya's retort, Wilhelm clears his throat and removes his hand from her shoulder. Focusing his attention back on the conversation at hand, Wilhelm listens with evident curiosity as Roan explains how he came to own the weapon. He nods a little impatiently as Roan explains the history of the blade, as he's obviously familiar with the tale. His father is it? And how did his father come by the blade? More perplexed than ever, Wilhelm levels his gaze on Roan.
As Roan turns to face him, Wilhelm observes Roan's tensing and reflexively steps in front of Lanya. Eyes narrowing, he keeps his hands at his side as he waits for Roan to act. Roan's sudden revelation catches the young baron completely off guard and his mouth works soundlessly for a moment. Numbly taking the letter he checks the seal, confirming it to be his fathers, before ripping open the letter and reading it. Typical that my father would hide this from me. A half-brother is it? He has the look -odd that I didn't see it- and he has both weapon and letter to prove his claim. I have a hard time believing it of my mother, but I suppose she could have.
Clenching his jaw, Wilhelm crumples the letter and tosses it aside. Pacing back and forth he doesn't respond to Roan as he mutters under his breath to himself, "... I suppose that explains all those awkward glances when I asked ... Salvi always did clam up when... explains much..." Finally seeming to calm down a little and become more aware of where he is, Wilhelm stops his pacing and looks at Roan levelly, face impassive.
The gaze lasts for a long silent moment before Wilhelm smiles and claps his half-brother on his shoulder, "It would seem that my -no, our- father's love for secrecy and half-truths has struck again, brother. My apologies for that little show just now, I'm still in a bit of shock, but this explains a lot about my childhood that hadn't made any sense before. It's a lot to absorb, but for what it's worth I'm glad you're here now. I just regret that our father and my mother saw fit you keep you a secret from me. I'll be glad to have you at my side as settle these new lands. Now, I think, I need a drink."
Fhârn, if you're not back soon, I may well stuff these papers down your throat. Iomedae preserve me against supply reports. Wilhelm rounds on the door as Dareon bursts into the room, papers on his desk easily forgotten for the time being. Surprised to find Dareon in such a state of alarm, Wilhelm wastes no time grabbing his armor and weaponry, replying as he does, "Go alert the others as you can, we gather in the courtyard. Alert Kesten Garess as well, as we'll need his men on the ballista. By the way, did we see what colors they fly? Find out if you can." Wilhelm is still barking orders and buckling on his sword when Lanya bursts in as well. "Ah, Lanya, I see you've heard as well. Accompany me to the gate, if you please, I'll need help with my armor and I'd appreciate your diplomatic prowess as well."
Wasting no further time, Wilhelm makes his way to the wall, all his weaponry slave his axe carried on his back and his armor in hand. Arriving in the ordered chaos of the courtyard, Wilhelm strides towards the gates in long, hurried strides as he carries his armor without significant difficulty. "Status report, Dante? Do we know who they are?" As he asks his barrage of questions, Wilhelm drops his weapons against the side of the gate and begins donning his armor. Finishing fitting his breastplate, he motions to Lanya to assist as he continues, "And what's this about people outside the gate? If they're enough to truly besiege us, then they're enough to crush any group outside. I trust your judgement, of course, just not sure what I'm missing."
As Dante answers, Wilhelm is able to finish getting his armor in place, with Lanya's help, and he buckles back on his weapons. Taking his bow in hand he shouts to the assembled fighters, "I intend this to be done without bloodshed if possible. We don't necessarily know they're hostile at the moment, so don't make a hostile move until you hear orders from either myself or Lord Skyborn." Turning his gaze to the growing dust cloud, Wilhelm mutters, "And who is it that's come to our sleepy little outpost in such a hurry?"
Suddenly the outpost was in chaos, an invading force? So soon? No! Dante thinks as he mounts Mandarb and wheels about in the courtyard.
Catching Bej's comment to Vors and Rowan, Dante notes the man's sound tactical thinking and voices his thoughts. "Good thinking Bej, we'll need a skirmishing force outside the walls. Stay out of sight and watch for a signal, red lights for attack, green for safe!" his large warhorse stamps the ground as Dante keeps a tight rein on him.
"Casters and Bowmen to the battlements atop the walls! Lord Orlovsky, join Dareon and I at the gates if you would. Where is this new fighter? Roan! Outside the walls if you would, Anastacia, outside or on the walls whatever suits you best if you please." He starts looking at some of the others, "Jhod, get everyone who isn't fighting inside Oleg's and bar the door until we give the all clear, then close the gate behind us and be prepared to reopen it if needed!"
Dante wheels his horse around and joins Dareon outside the gate to face the riders.
As Wilhelm joins the bustle, Dante dismounts and helps Lanya in assisting their lord with a hand trained with years of experience with donning armor.
"Outside the gate says diplomacy, Jhod will be ready to spring the gates open should they attempt a charge, I've seen no colors as of yet. Should we need to fall back Kesten can destroy them with the ballistae. Bej, Vors, and Rowan are out in the bush waiting for a signal light, to attack then on their right flank. If we get overrun, they'll be able to help the townsfolk escape in the night by coming through or over the wall in the darkness." Dante remounts and trots out.
Standing on the battlefield with the emerging compatriots behind him, Dareon ponders Roan's words the previous night. He's glad the warrior had placed his trust in him (and hopes he can uphold the trust to not be easily swayed or corrupted) but he wonders - does the force ahead think themselves the stronger? Are he and his compatriots the weaker or the stronger force?
Was there even going to be battle ahead?
The anticipation of not knowing whether there would be battle or diplomacy was infuriating, as no man could let his guard down, nor could he just unleash a magical assault on the incoming force unprovoked, as advantageous as that would be.
He sees Dante and Wilhelm emerging from the fort and gives them a nod, and simply tells Dante, "I'll be right back. Unless I'm not. If I'm not, get ready for a fight." before he rises into the air (going up about sixty feet) and begins to fly towards the incoming enemies. When he reaches them, he'll follow above them, trying to determine colors, and will cry out at them about their purpose.
"Besiege?" Vors half asks half contemplates as Bej urges him one. "Splendid idea, I'll meet you by the stables," he replies and quickly goes to gather weapons and armour, before heading to the stable and saddling his horse. As Bej gallops of Vors follows the large man as soon as he is ready. Once they are in the trees he dismounts, ties his horse and slowly approach the edge of the trees to get a better view. Crouching besides Bej he asks: "Do we know any thing about the enemy? Who and how many?"
The force soon comes into view. Twenty men on horseback are in the vanguard, followed by a dozen wagons, 6 horsemen take up the rear. One of the forward horseman flies a banner with some variation of House Surtova.
The horsemen ride with very little care for those they scatter before them in the tent city, except for one. One of the horsemen is actually arguing with the obvious leader of the group, but the leader just waves him off. The group reins up, short of the gate, eying the sudden array of weaponry that has appeared on the walls, several are looking up at the flying man above them. The man with the banner advances up to the gate.
"Hail the Fort! The Lord Baron Drelev and party wish entrance. Open the Gates!" he pauses, obviously expecting this to work.
His robes flapping in the wind as he circles and his quarterstaff in hand, Dareon cries out again at the man with the banner. "Not until you declare your purpose! Armed and armored men, riding to our gates, scattering the colonists, it doesn't look good, and we won't be taken advantage of!"
The leader throws back his helm. He looks up at Dareon. "Come now, Mage. Our purpose is peaceful and we had no idea this was a 'colony'. We thought it was just rabble that couldn't afford to stay at Olegs. We are on a mission from King Surtova and I apologize if we have frightened you. So come down. Let us make peace. You and I have much to discuss, I have need of a mage in my employ."
Recognizing the sign and sigil he motions calmingly to Dareon and calls to the lead rider, "Lord Baron Drelev, I hadn't thought to find you out here. I'm Lord Baron Wilhelm Orlovsky of the newly founded nation of Domierov. Your column, unexpected and without a messenger to announce your intent, bore too much of a resemblance to bandit raiders that have plagued the area until we recently cut them down. You'll have to forgive the caution, as we haven't fully explored the area yet. There was a concern that you might be more of them or someone like them."
Motioning to Kesten Garess, Wilhelm continues, "Open the gates if you would, Kesten. I believe there's no need for such caution when one of the Regent's favored envoys comes for a visit. I'm afraid things will be a little tight with so many men. I think we can work something out though. What news from New Stetvan?" Returning his longbow to his back, Wilhelm walks to meet with the lord, motioning for stablehands to take his horse.